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hoshifighting · 4 months

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From Accords to Kisses

Synopsis: Seungcheol, feeling overshowed by his accomplished cousin Jisoo, concocted a plan to surprise his family. Desperate to match up, he enlists Y/N, a talented athlete swimmer from his university, to play his girlfriend. Amidst the charade, unexpected sparks fly, leading to a surprising turn in their relationship.

Word count: 7.1k

Reader! Swimmer/University athlete, Seungcheol! University Student - Fake Dating

Warnings: smut, oral (f. receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, dirty talk, kitchen sex, loud moaning, creampie, big dick cheol, wap, and they are almost caught making out inside of the pool.

Seungcheol, a junior in college, found himself caught in a web of expectations spun by his family. Their admiration for his cousin, Jisoo, was boundless. Jisoo was the epitome of success in their eyes—an academic achiever, a charming young man with a promising career, and someone who seemingly excelled in every aspect of life. The family gatherings were always filled with tales of Jisoo's achievements, and they became a benchmark against which Seungcheol often found himself measured.

It was during one family dinner that his mother, after a few glasses of wine, turned to Seungcheol with a probing gaze. "When are you going to introduce us to your girlfriend, Seungcheol? Jisoo always has someone new to bring to family gatherings."

Caught off guard, Seungcheol felt the pressure mounting. He wasn't one to share details about his personal life, and the idea of having to introduce a girlfriend to the family seemed daunting. Trying to deflect the conversation, he blurted out, "Actually, Mom, I already have a girlfriend."

His mother's eyes widened in surprise, and a triumphant smile spread across her face. "Really? That's wonderful! You must bring her to the summer house this weekend. Jisoo and his family are coming too. It'll be a perfect opportunity for everyone to meet."

Seungcheol's mind raced as he tried to come up with a solution to his fabricated predicament. He couldn't admit to lying now; the web he had woven was too intricate. With a deep sigh, he nodded in agreement, accepting the challenge he had unwittingly set for himself.

Seungcheol paced through the college hallways, the weight of his fabricated girlfriend dilemma pressing on his shoulders. As he traversed the familiar corridors, he pondered his limited options. He wasn't exactly the type to have a multitude of close female friends, and the few acquaintances he did have might not be willing to play the role of his imaginary girlfriend.

His mind raced through a mental roster of female classmates, trying to assess who might be willing to assist him in this family charade. Seungcheol was not oblivious to the fact that asking someone to pose as his girlfriend for a family gathering was an unusual request, and the potential for rejection loomed large.

He glanced around the bustling campus, contemplating his next move. Should he approach someone he knew only in passing, risking an awkward refusal? Or perhaps he should resort to desperate measures and post a plea for assistance on social media, hoping that someone, out of pity or curiosity, would agree to help him out.

Seungcheol's mind was abruptly interrupted as he collided with someone in the bustling college hallway. Books scattered in every direction, and his immediate reaction was a chorus of apologies. Looking down to collect the fallen books, he was met with a pair of apologetic eyes belonging to Y/N.

He couldn't help but notice her black and tight gymnastic clothing, a stark contrast to the casual attire of most students. Her hair was damp, and droplets of water adorned her skin. It didn't take long for him to connect the dots – she was a member of the university's swimming team, a detail he had likely overlooked in the past.

As Seungcheol handed her the last of the fallen books, he couldn't help but find her presence intriguing. The hurried apology, the sporty attire, and the damp hair all painted a vivid picture of someone with a disciplined and athletic lifestyle.

Before he could articulate his thoughts or ask about her involvement in the swimming team, Y/N flashed a quick smile and darted towards the exit, leaving Seungcheol with a trail of unanswered questions and a newfound idea forming in his mind.

His eyes followed her as she disappeared into the bustling crowd, and a realization struck him. Y/N could be the perfect solution to his predicament.

One Saturday morning, when the university's athletes were deep in their practice routines, Seungcheol made his way to the swimming training center. He observed the swimmers cutting through the water with precision and grace, searching for Y/N among the lanes. Spotting her at last, he observed her storing her gear and searching for a towel on the bench.

Summoning his courage, Seungcheol left the stands and made his way toward her. As he approached, he noticed the surprise that flickered across her face, quickly replaced by a friendly smile as she recognized him.

"Hi Y/N,” Seungcheol greeted her, returning the smile. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."

Y/N shook her head, tucking the towel she had finally found over her shoulder. "No, not at all. I'm just finishing up practice. What brings you here? I've never seen you at our training sessions before."

Seungcheol took a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking. "I wanted to talk to you, actually.”

“Sure what do you want to talk about”

“My family has this weekend gathering at our summer house, and my mom's been asking me about my girlfriend. Long story short, I might have told her I have one, and now she's expecting to meet her."

"You may have mentioned?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, her expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. "Okay, I'm following. But why do you need me for this?"

Seungcheol chuckled nervously. "Okay, maybe I said it definitively. But the point is, I'm in a bit of a bind, and I was wondering if you'd be willing to play the part of my girlfriend for the weekend. We just need to act like a couple in front of my family, and I'm sure we can come up with a believable backstory.”

Y/N's smile widened, and she crossed her arms, still holding the towel. "So, you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend? Just for a weekend? That's a pretty unconventional request, Seungcheol."

Seungcheol nodded, his sincerity evident. "I know it's a lot to ask, and I wouldn't blame you if you think it's too weird. But it would mean a lot to me, and I promise I'll make it up to you somehow."

"So, how exactly do you plan to make it up to me, Seungcheol?"

Seungcheol scratched his head, pondering the question. "Well, first of all, I promise to owe you a big favor. Anything you need, within reason, of course. I'll be there for you."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Anything? That's quite the open-ended promise. I might have to take advantage of that."

Seungcheol, thinking on his feet, remembered the valuable information he had gathered from Y/N's friends. "Well," he began with a smile, "your friends were kind enough to share some insights about you. I heard you have a favorite restaurant in town. How about I take you to dinner there? My treat."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of surprise in her eyes. "My favorite restaurant, huh? You did your homework, Seungcheol. Alright, you've got yourself a deal. But you owe me the juiciest details about your family after this whole charade is over."

Seungcheol grinned, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. "Deal. You'll get the full scoop, I promise."

[…]

As Seungcheol drove through the city lights on that Friday night, the hum of the car's engine accompanying the anticipation in the air. The suitcases were neatly stowed away in the trunk, and Y/N sat in the passenger seat, looking out at the passing scenery.

"You know," Seungcheol began, glancing at Y/N, "I never got to ask you what you do for work. What keeps you so busy?"

Y/N smiled, looking out at the passing city lights. "I work as a swimming teacher for children. It's a lot of fun, but it can be quite hectic, especially when the kids are super energetic. They keep me on my toes."

Seungcheol listened attentively, and for a brief moment, a wave of unexpected emotion washed over him. The image of Y/N teaching children to swim sparked a dream in his heart—the dream of a future with a big, happy family. He couldn't help but admire her dedication and the impact she must be making on those young lives. "That sounds like a rewarding job. Teaching kids to swim must be both challenging and fulfilling."

Y/N nodded, her expression reflecting a sense of accomplishment “The joy on their faces when they learn a new skill is priceless."

Seungcheol smiled, realizing that the persona he had created for Y/N as his imaginary girlfriend was turning into a tapestry of qualities that were both admirable and endearing. "I can imagine you must be an amazing teacher. It takes a special person to guide and inspire kids like that."

Y/N chuckled, her modesty evident. "I just try my best. But enough about me. What about you? What do you do when you're not orchestrating elaborate plans to appease your family?"

Seungcheol laughed, appreciating the humor in Y/N's question. "Well," Seungcheol began with a playful grin, "when I'm not masterminding intricate family charades, I'm usually trying to keep up with my studies, attempting to conquer the ever-growing pile of textbooks. It's a thrilling life, really."

The gravel crunched beneath the tires as Seungcheol pulled up to the family's summer house. As he parked, a sense of unease settled over him, amplified by the sight of his cousin's ostentatious and expensive car gleaming in the garage. Y/N, seated beside him, couldn't help but notice the expensive vehicle and the subtle tension in Seungcheol's demeanor.

"Who paints a car with that color?" Y/N remarked playfully, breaking the silence and attempting to lighten the mood.

Seungcheol chuckled nervously, appreciating the attempt at humor. "Yeah, it's a bit much, isn't it? My cousin has always had a flair for the extravagant. Apparently, even when it comes to car paint."

Y/N continued with a mischievous smile, "I mean, I've seen more tasteful choices in a preschool art class. Maybe he's trying to blind everyone on the road."

Seungcheol burst into laughter, the tension dissipating momentarily. "You might be onto something there. But hey, let's focus on the task at hand—convincing my family that we're the power couple of the century."

Y/N grinned, her playful spirit adding a spark to the moment. "Power couple, huh? Should we come up with a secret handshake or something?"

As they unloaded their suitcases and approached the front door, the facade of the perfect couple began to take shape. As Seungcheol and Y/N approached the front door of the summer house, they noticed Seungcheol's parents emerging from the backyard, engrossed in conversation. Seungcheol's heart skipped a beat as he realized the moment of introduction was upon them. "Here we go," Seungcheol muttered under his breath, a nervous grin playing on his lips as he straightened his posture, trying to exude confidence.

Y/N shot him an encouraging smile, sensing his apprehension. "We've got this," she whispered softly, her voice carrying a reassuring tone.

Seungcheol nodded, taking a deep breath as they reached his parents. His mother's eyes lit up with excitement upon seeing them.

"Seungcheol, dear, you're finally here!" his mother exclaimed, her warm smile widening as her gaze shifted to Y/N. "And who might this lovely young lady be?"

Seungcheol's heart raced, but he managed to keep a composed demeanor. "Mom, Dad, this is Y/N. She's my girlfriend," he said, his voice surprisingly steady.

Y/N flashed a bright smile, extending her hand in a friendly gesture. "Hello! It's a pleasure to meet you both. Seungcheol has told me so much about you."

Seungcheol's parents exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of surprise and delight. Seungcheol's mother wasted no time in pulling both of them into a warm embrace.

"How wonderful!" she exclaimed, beaming with joy. "Seungcheol, you've kept her hidden from us for so long. It's about time we got to meet your girlfriend!"

Seungcheol managed a nervous chuckle, stealing a glance at Y/N, who played her part impeccably, her smile unwavering. As they entered the house, the facade of the perfect couple continued, and Seungcheol couldn't shake the blend of anxiety and relief swirling within him.

As Seungcheol and Y/N entered Seungcheol's childhood room on the second floor, Y/N couldn't help but be drawn to the memorabilia that adorned the walls. The room was a testament to Seungcheol's achievements, filled with medals hanging from a supporter and framed photos capturing moments of his past.

Y/N's eyes lingered on a particular set of medals, each one a symbol of triumph in various competitions. "Impressive collection," she remarked, her gaze traveling from one medal to another.

Y/N examined a photo of young Seungcheol proudly standing on a podium with a black belt in jiu-jitsu, another of him passionately playing soccer, and yet another capturing the moment of his high school graduation.

"You look like the perfect son," Y/N said, a genuine admiration in her voice. "I don't understand why there's this constant comparison with your cousin. You've achieved so much on your own."

Seungcheol sighed, his gaze lingering on the photos. "It's just the way it's always been. Jisoo, my cousin, is the benchmark for success in my family. No matter what I do, it always feels like I'm in his shadow."

Y/N had been on the verge of sharing something with Seungcheol when the door creaked open, and Seungcheol's mom entered the room. Her face beamed with excitement, and her eyes were filled with pride as she spoke.

"Seungcheol, dear, Jisoo's family is waiting for us downstairs. And let me tell you, their daughter is absolutely adorable. You should see her, such a sweetheart!"

He managed a polite smile, concealing the sigh that threatened to escape. "Sure, Mom. We'll be right down."

As Seungcheol and Y/N made their way to the yard, they found themselves in the company of Jisoo, his face sporting a furrowed brow as he observed the "couple" holding hands. His eyes seemed to express a mix of curiosity and mild inconvenience. Jisoo, always accustomed to being in the spotlight, felt a twinge of irritation at the attention Seungcheol seemed to be receiving.

"Seungcheol, I see you finally found someone to keep you company," Jisoo remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Seungcheol managed a tight smile, the tension palpable. "Yeah, this is Y/N. Y/N, meet my cousin, Jisoo."

Y/N offered a polite nod, but the instant dislike was evident in her eyes as she shook Jisoo's outstretched hand. Jisoo, oblivious to the undercurrents, turned his attention back to Seungcheol with a smirk.

"So, Seungcheol, how long have you two lovebirds been together? Or is this just another fling?" Jisoo's question carried a hint of mockery.

Seungcheol's grip tightened on Y/N's hand, a hint of discomfort flickering across his face. Y/N, however, surprised both Seungcheol and Jisoo by retorting with a calm yet assertive tone, "Oh, we're still in the honeymoon phase, you know. Seungcheol's such a romantic!”

Jisoo's smirk faltered, replaced by a flash of uncertainty at Y/N's assertive response. While Seungcheol noticed how practical she was with her answers. As Seungcheol's dad called for dinner, Jisoo took the opportunity to leave, disappearing into the house without a backward glance. His departure seemed to ease the tension that had loomed around them.

With Jisoo out of earshot, Y/N leaned closer to Seungcheol, her voice low as she mockingly imitated Jisoo's haughty tone, adding a touch of humor to the situation. "Seungcheol, darling, I believe my greatness is far too dazzling for mere mortals to comprehend," she joked, her imitation surprisingly accurate.

Seungcheol chuckled softly at Y/N's impression, finding her ability to lighten the mood in the midst of tension both unexpected and refreshing. "You caught onto that pretty fast, huh? Not a fan of Jisoo, I take it?"

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "He's like a walking checklist of things I can't stand. But hey, we're putting on a show, right? I can play nice for your family."

Seungcheol, grateful for Y/N's resilience and ability to handle the situation with humor, offered a sincere apology. "I'm sorry you have to deal with all of this. I didn't expect it to be so... intense."

Y/N waved off his apology, a reassuring smile on her face. "No worries. I can handle a bit of drama. Let's just get through this dinner, and then we can figure out how to survive the rest of the weekend."

He chuckled again, appreciating Y/N's ability to navigate the complexities of his family dynamics. As they headed inside for dinner, the shared laughter between them became a beacon of comfort amidst the orchestrated performance they were embroiled in.

Seated at the dinner table, Seungcheol exhibited a courteous demeanor, serving Y/N and delicately placing the napkin on her lap. It was a gesture that reflected not just an act for the charade but an ingrained courtesy that came from being well-raised.

Y/N appreciated the gesture, noticing the genuine manners that Seungcheol effortlessly displayed. To her, it wasn't an act of pretending to be a good boyfriend; it was simply a reflection of his upbringing and character.

However, the atmosphere shifted as Jisoo took center stage, eagerly boasting about his company's achievements. He regaled the table with tales of success, his voice brimming with self-importance. Seungcheol's parents appeared captivated, hanging onto every word as if mesmerized by their nephew's accomplishments. As Jisoo's monologue continued, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of disconnect. While she maintained a polite demeanor, the stark contrast between Jisoo's self-centered dialogue and Seungcheol's modesty became more apparent.

Seungcheol, noticing the discomfort, shot Y/N a sympathetic glance, silently acknowledging the awkwardness of the situation. The facade they maintained was starting to crack, revealing the genuine individuals they were beneath the surface.

Seungcheol's dad, intrigued by the prospect of learning more about how Seungcheol and Y/N met, directed his attention towards her with a warm smile.

"So, Y/N, how did you and Seungcheol cross paths? I'm curious to hear the story," he inquired, a genuine interest in his eyes.

Y/N met Seungcheol's gaze, a subtle nod encouraging her to share their fabricated narrative. With a composed smile, she began to weave the tale.

"Well, Mr. Choi," she started, "I was working on a particularly challenging project for my technology class. Knowing that Seungcheol is widely recognized as one of the brightest minds in his class, I decided to seek his expertise."

Seungcheol's dad nodded appreciatively, his eyes reflecting approval. "Ah, seeking out the best in the field. Smart move."

Y/N continued, her expression earnest, "I reached out to Seungcheol, and he graciously agreed to help me. I was impressed by his intelligence and dedication to his studies."

Seungcheol's parents exchanged glances, clearly taken aback by this newfound revelation about their son's academic prowess. The charade wove its way into the fabric of their family dynamic, blurring the lines between fiction and reality.

As dinner conversation continued, Jisoo, seemingly on a quest for attention, diverted the topic to his own life. With an air of self-importance, he proudly announced, "My wife, spends her time making our daughter Instagram famous. She's a digital influencer, you know."

Seated next to Jisoo, his wife appeared absorbed in the task of filling their daughter's mouth with food, seemingly disinterested in the conversation.

As the dinner conversation meandered, Jisoo once again sought attention, showcasing his wife, a woman who fit the stereotype of a socialite, indulgently feeding their daughter. Sat beside her, Jisoo proudly mentioned his wife's profession as a digital influencer, a statement delivered with a touch of self-importance.

"And what about your girl? What does she do?" Jisoo directed the question at Seungcheol, his tone tinged with a hint of curiosity and a smidgen of superiority.

Seungcheol, maintaining the charade, responded calmly, "She's an athlete, a swimmer." Jisoo's eyes widened in genuine surprise at the revelation. He recalled hearing about a swimming competition held months ago at the university, where Seungcheol's "girl" had emerged victorious.

"You're into sports?" Jisoo's tone held a subtle incredulity, his surprise evident.

Seungcheol nodded proudly, "Yes, she's quite accomplished. She even won the university's swimming competition and participated in international contests."

Meanwhile, Jisoo's wife interjected, dismissing the idea of sports due to the impact on her appearance. "Oh, I don't like sports. They ruin my nails and all."

Y/N, maintaining her composure but unwilling to let the comment pass, retorted calmly, "Well, being active and healthy is really beneficial. Nails can grow back, but a healthy lifestyle has far-reaching benefits."

Seungcheol, silently impressed by Y/N's poise and her willingness to stand her ground, couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for her resilience.

As Seungcheol's mom asked Jisoo and Y/N to help bring dessert to the table, Y/N willingly offered her assistance. They found themselves in the kitchen together, navigating the preparations side by side. However, in the midst of their task, Jisoo seized the opportunity to corner Y/N with an uncomfortable question.

"You and Seungcheol don't seem all that close. Did the honeymoon phase wear off already? Bad sign?" Jisoo asked, his tone carrying a hint of mockery.

Unbeknownst to Jisoo, Seungcheol had overheard the conversation. Seungcheol entered the kitchen, casually holding Y/N's waist and grabbing a couple of spoons, playing it cool as if he hadn't heard a word.

Y/N, glancing at Seungcheol with a sly smile, decided to play along. She placed a kiss on Seungcheol's lips, a gesture that surprised Jisoo.

"Well, actually, things are running really well. We just have our own way of being close," Y/N replied, her tone confident, while Seungcheol maintained the act, appearing nonchalant.

Seungcheol's presence seemed to catch Jisoo off guard, and he awkwardly shifted the conversation. "Oh, uh, good to hear. I just thought—"

Seungcheol, still holding Y/N close, interrupted with a grin, "We're just not as showy as some people, I guess."

Jisoo, realizing the conversation had taken an unexpected turn, nodded with a forced smile, and they continued their dessert preparations.

Seungcheol left the kitchen with his heart pounding in his chest, the unexpected kiss lingering on his lips. As he settled back at the table with Y/N, the air around them seemed charged with a newfound energy. His mind raced with curiosity about what questions or comments might follow.

Seungcheol and Y/N found a moment to talk privately, exchanging glances and shared smiles amidst the family conversations. However, their private bubble was burst when Seungcheol's mom decided to casually drop a bombshell into the conversation.

"You know," she began with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, "I happened to see you two in the kitchen earlier. A little kiss, was it?" she said, leaving Seungcheol red-faced like a tomato. Clearly enjoying the flustered reaction she had induced in her son. "You're too beautiful, Y/N. I don't blame Seungcheol for not being able to resist your charms."

Seungcheol, now a deeper shade of red, attempted to diffuse the situation with an awkward laugh. "Mom, please..."

As the teasing banter continued, Y/N responded to Seungcheol's mom with a warm smile. "Mrs. Choi, your son is truly a beautiful man. I often found myself a bit breathless when I saw him in the university hallways."

Seungcheol, caught off guard by Y/N's compliment, felt his face grow warmer. He couldn't help but hold his palms to his face, as if attempting to shield himself from the embarrassment that threatened to consume him.

His mom, still in playful spirits, chuckled. "Well, it's no surprise. He has always been quite the handsome young man. I'm glad you appreciate his charm, dear."

As the conversation continued, Seungcheol couldn't shake the question lingering in his mind. Was Y/N merely playing along with the charade, or was there a genuine undercurrent to her words? Her smile and tone suggested a level of sincerity that left Seungcheol wondering about the authenticity of their connection.

Seungcheol suggested going to his room to get some rest, and Y/N agreed, feeling the fatigue from the day's events and the road trip. They entered his room, and Seungcheol closed the door behind them, creating a moment of privacy.

Seungcheol, leaning against the door, looked at Y/N with a thoughtful expression. The weight of the charade and the events of the family dinner lingered in the air. Breaking the silence, he posed an intense question, "What was that about at the dinner table? The kiss, the compliments... What's really going on here?"

Y/N, meeting Seungcheol's gaze, responded with a mix of sincerity and caution. "Seungcheol, we need to act well to pull this off convincingly. The compliments, the moments we share, they need to feel genuine. Right?”

As the morning sun painted the beach in warm hues, Y/N felt a sense of tranquility wash over her. The sound of waves and the sensation of warm sand beneath her feet created a perfect backdrop for a day with Seungcheol's family.

Observing Seungcheol playing with Jisoo's daughter, Y/N couldn't help but admire his strength and the tender way he interacted with the little girl. However, a concern surfaced in her mind – Seungcheol hadn't applied sunscreen.

"Seungcheol," she called out, scolding him playfully, "come here! You'll burn in this sun without sunscreen."

Seungcheol, momentarily distracted by the waves, jogged over to Y/N. She took the opportunity to apply sunscreen on his skin. As she rubbed it onto his broad shoulders and admired the softness of his skin, a fleeting thought crossed her mind. Lost in the moment, Seungcheol stood like a child being cared for. Y/N couldn't help but smile as she spread sunscreen on his face.

Seungcheol and Y/N, engaged in the playful challenge of building a sandcastle, found themselves in a race to fetch water from the sea. Seungcheol, ever the competitor, declared, "I'm stepping on the water first!"

Y/N, not one to back down, retorted, "You won't dare." With buckets in hand, they both sprinted towards the sea, the excitement of the challenge propelling them forward.

As they reached the water's edge, a larger wave surged, catching them off guard and sweeping them off their feet. The water receded, leaving Seungcheol holding Y/N, their bodies sprawled on the wet sand. Intense glares exchanged, a playful rivalry intensified in the aftermath of the unexpected wave.

"I arrived first," Seungcheol declared, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Y/N, her competitive spirit undeterred, argued, "No, you didn't! I got here first!"

Seungcheol, teasingly retorting, insisted, "You're just saying that because you ran fast."

She laughed, "It's not fair!"

Seungcheol, seizing the moment, interrupted her protest with a sudden kiss. As he got up from the sand, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close, as she sat on his lap. His teeth bitting the soft lips from hers.

"Fair enough now?" he asked, a playful smile on his lips.

Y/N, momentarily flustered by the unexpected kiss, couldn't help but chuckle. "Well played, Seungcheol."

The day at the beach continued with laughter and joy as they built the sandcastle. The little girl reveled in the attention of both Seungcheol and Y/N, enjoying every moment of splashing water and building sand structures.

As the sun began its descent, signaling the end of their beach day, the group headed home. Not yet tired from the day's activities, they decided to spend some time at the pool.

Y/N, with her background in swimming, took it upon herself to teach the little girl how to swim. Seungcheol, always admiring the scene, watched with a warm smile as the two splashed around, creating memories that would last a lifetime. Meanwhile, he joined his dad and cousin in preparing a barbecue, the scent of grilled food filling the air.

The poolside moments were filled with laughter, Seungcheol couldn't help but appreciate the genuine connection that seemed to be forming between Y/N and the little girl, a connection that went beyond the charade they were enacting.

The evening unfolded in a relaxed atmosphere, Seungcheol, taking a break from the grill, approached the pool where Y/N and the little girl were still playing. In his hands, he held two perfectly cooked pieces of steak, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Hey, you two," he called, "time for a little snack." With a grin, he offered the bite-sized steak to each of them, placing the savory morsels into their mouths. Laughter ensued as they savored the delicious flavors.

Seungcheol then returned to the grill, leaving Y/N and the little girl to enjoy the pool. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting warm hues across the backyard.

Jisoo's wife called the little girl to take a bath, signaling the end of their poolside activities. As the backyard emptied, only Y/N remained, relaxing in the pool. Seungcheol, seizing the opportunity, managed to sit on the edge of the pool, the cool water lapping at his feet.

Seungcheol couldn't help but admire Y/N's figure as she swam gracefully through the pool. Her awareness of his gaze prompted her to swim over, and she surfaced near him, her arms draped over the pool's edge as she looked at him.

He met her gaze, the intensity between them palpable, but before any words could be exchanged, Y/N, with a mischievous smile, grabbed his legs and playfully pulled him into the pool. Seungcheol's protests of "no, no, no" were drowned out by the sound of his body splashing into the water.

Y/N grinned at him, satisfied with her little act of mischief, as Seungcheol surfaced, pushing his wet hair from his face. The water droplets glistened on his skin as he swam back to the edge, his arm muscles flexing with each stroke.

Y/N, feeling playful, hugged Seungcheol from behind, teasingly preventing him from leaving the pool. Seungcheol turned around, facing her with a smile.

"I'm not much of a swimmer like you," Seungcheol admitted, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Y/N, still holding onto him, reassured him, "Don't worry, you won't drown with me here."

Seungcheol, feigning concern, quipped, "But if I do drown, you'll have to perform mouth-to-mouth on me."

Y/N burst into laughter, appreciating his sense of humor. "Oh, absolutely. I'm practically a certified lifeguard," she replied, the playful banter adding to the lighthearted atmosphere.

Seungcheol, feigning a dramatic sigh, submerged himself in the water, creating a ripple of playful splashes.

As Y/N dived into the water, the playful atmosphere took a sudden shift. Under the surface, Seungcheol met her eyes, and in that watery world, they shared a kiss. He held her arms, the sensation of their lips meeting under the water creating a moment of intimacy.

Breaking the surface, they both took a deep breath before locking lips again. Y/N, wrapping her legs around Seungcheol's waist, pulled herself closer. Their bodies pressed together, the embrace intensified. Seungcheol's tongue caressed hers, their passion growing with each passing second.

With a subtle movement, Seungcheol guided Y/N to the side of the pool, her back against the wall. As he pressed against her with his strong body, a soft moan escaped her lips.

Seungcheol's kisses trailed down Y/N's neck, evoking a shiver that traveled through her body. In response, she ran her nails gently along his back, eliciting a low groan from him. His hands, firmly gripping her hips, pulled her closer, the heat between them intensifying.

As Seungcheol's desire became more evident, Y/N, feeling a certain bulge inside of his shorts, “Cheolie…” called his name slyly, a playful and teasing tone in her voice. As Seungcheol's hands explored Y/N's body, the sounds of the water mingled with their shared movements. Despite the coolness of the pool, the intensity of their connection generated a heat that enveloped them, making the water around them seem almost irrelevant.

Y/N's eyes, not fully opened, widened as she sensed a figure approaching. Reacting quickly, she pushed herself away from Seungcheol, the realization dawning on her that they were not alone. Jisoo had entered the room, witnessing the unexpected scene. Seungcheol looked at her with concern, sensing the abrupt change in the atmosphere.

In a moment of embarrassment, Y/N instinctively hid behind Seungcheol's back, seeking refuge in the shield of his presence. Seungcheol, ever reassuring, gently caressed her hand, a silent gesture to ease her discomfort.

Jisoo, in a casual manner, announced that the family was heading to a restaurant and invited them to join. Y/N, still behind Seungcheol, hesitated, her mind racing.

Seungcheol, assessing the situation, spoke up, "We won't have time to get ready for that. We'll stay and I'll cook something for us."

Jisoo, understanding the situation, agreed and left the yard, leaving Seungcheol and Y/N alone once again. The air between them, though slightly disrupted by the interruption, held a sense of intimacy that lingered from their poolside encounter.

Seungcheol, grabbing a towel, left the pool and approached Y/N to dry her off. Together, they headed inside the house, making their way to the kitchen. From the window, Y/N watched as the family got inside the car, preparing to leave for the restaurant.

Seungcheol, seizing the moment, came up from behind her, their bodies pressed together. The wet material of his shorts clung to her, and she gasped, mentioning that the family hadn't left yet. Seungcheol responded with a soft "Mhmm," kissing her neck as he gently bent her over the kitchen marble. In a bold move, he moved aside her bikini, fingers starting to get wet from her arousal.

When his digits starts to rub her clit, Y/N couldn't help but cry out Seungcheol's name. Her voice carried a mix of desire and pleasure, and in response, Seungcheol pressed the bulge on her ass, intensifying the sensations that surged through their bodies.

As they both stood by the window, attentively watching the family's car pull away, Seungcheol took advantage of the moment. With a daring move, he slid a finger, eliciting a relieved moan from Y/N. The tension that had built up during the family's presence now found its release in the private confines of the kitchen.

With the family finally gone, Seungcheol and Y/N found themselves in a space free from prying eyes, allowing them to explore the depths of their connection without restraint.

"They're gone. Come here” Seungcheol, sensing the privacy that the departure of the family afforded them, took Y/N into his embrace. He seated her on the countertop, and with a tender touch, he began to undo the ties on the sides of her bikini. Seungcheol moved to remove the bottom part from the bikini, moving way the top from her tits.

Looking at her, his mouth sucks her nipple, fingers starting to work inside of her “Oh god” she moaned, head falling back as her thighs started to tremble. “Cheolie, feels so good!”

“I haven't even started yet babe…” He coos “Your pussy fells so good, clenching around my fingers, can’t wait to burry my cock inside of you.” He laughs when he feels her cunt clench with his dirty talking.

Stopping everything, his fingers dug into her thighs, holding her legs open, dragging his tongue over her clit. Moans getting louder, as he sucked her clit between his lips. Legs squeezed around his head, and her hips bucking into his mouth.

The kitchen countertop, an unexpected stage for their newfound intimacy, became a tether for Seungcheol and Y/N. In the privacy of the secluded kitchen, Seungcheol worked with a heightened sense of urgency, each movement reflecting a shared desire that went beyond the initial charade of the weekend. Y/N's moans echoed through the house, blending with the intimate sounds of their connection.

Y/N, whispered breathlessly, "I'm getting closer, Cheolie." She held onto Seungcheol's soft hair with her fingers.

He moans feeling that her pussy was already dripping on his chin, making his heart to beat faster. In Seungcheol's mind, it felt like another competition, a different kind of contest that fueled the hunger in his eyes. As he worked to bring Y/N to climax, his gaze remained intense and focused. The shared pleasure became a battleground where every move, every touch, was a strategic maneuver aimed at winning the unspoken competition between them. The intimate encounter reached its peak as Y/N lay spread on the kitchen counter, screams of pleasure escaping her lips while she cum. The walls of the kitchen held the echoes of their shared moans, creating a symphony of passion that filled the secluded space.

In the aftermath of their intense connection, Seungcheol and Y/N found themselves in a moment of quiet, the kitchen countertop now bearing witness to the depths of their shared desires. Seungcheol, still in the aftermath of their passionate encounter, managed to pull off the strings that held his shorts on his body. The remaining clothes cascaded to the floor, leaving him exposed in the intimacy of the kitchen.

His erection stands proud, waiting for the warm hug from her wet cunt. He gently pulled Y/N to the edge of the countertop, his heavy cock laying on her belly. “I’m going to fill you up.” He whispers in her ear, slowly pushing his thick cock inside of her, getting him gasping, since his big dick us squeezed by her slippery walls.

Holding his body close, she lets out a long whine, stumbling her elbow In the midst of the intimate aftermath, a sudden interruption startled Y/N. As she moved, her elbow accidentally hit a spoon holder, causing the utensils to clatter loudly into the sink. The unexpected noise echoed through the quiet kitchen, disrupting the moment.

“S-sorr-y! Ngh” Y/N, in an attempt to apologize, managed to murmur. However, her eyes rolled back into her skull, overwhelmed by the fast pace of Seungcheol hips, making his thick tip, knock her g’spot.

“Shh… That’s okay sweetheart, I got you, It’s okay.” His head already spinning.

Nothing was more beautiful than her face contorted in pleasure, and the the ways it was consuming her. He was nearing his own release too, but was determined on making her cum.

“You’re fucking me so good Seungcheol” Overwhelmed by the sensations building up within her, Y/N managed to express herself amidst the aftermath. "I could do this every day," she admitted, the intensity of the release approaching once again.

“Yeah?” Seungcheol looked into her eyes and replied, "If you want it, I'll give it to you every day, any moment." His words carried a promise, a commitment to the connection they had forged.

Like a switch, the waves of pleasure, courses through her like a sudden surge. She looks at Seungcheol’s face, not loosing the pleasure expression on his face, then throwing her head back, one elbow placed firmly on the marble, exposing her body. Drops of water, remnants from the pool, glistened on her skin. The subtle light in the room, though weak, was enough to reveal the beautiful contours of her trembling body. Her reaction caused Seungcheol to growl, speeding his hips.

He pulled right out to the tip before slamming all the way back in, making a silent moan to leave from her opened mouth, while her pussy gushed around him.

The subdued lighting in the room allowed Y/N to see the details of the intimate scene that unfolded. Seungcheol's thick arms held her hips in place, and his defined torso moved with each rhythm of pleasure. His abdomen knotted with the sensations coursing through him, visible evidence of their shared desires.

Seungcheol's lips were red and swollen, a testament to the intensity of their connection. His wet hair clung to his forehead, and veins appeared on his strong arms and lower abdomen, showcasing the physical exertion of the passionate encounter.

“I want you to fucking cum inside of me! Are you listening to me?!” Y/N, through gritted teeth, ordered Seungcheol to release.

Seungcheol, understanding her plea, nodded aggressively, his consent evident in the fervor of his response. Opening his mouth, Seungcheol let out a loud and unrestrained moan as he surrendered to the culmination of his desire. Long spurts of cum filling her up. He closed his eyes as he thrusts already weak. As he gradually stilled, he sought solace on Y/N's shoulder, his body softening in the embrace.

As Seungcheol and Y/N gazed at the mess of their passionate encounter, with the remnants of their shared orgasms dripping from the countertop to the floor, Y/N confessed, "I might have liked this a bit too much."

Seungcheol, catching his breath, responded to Y/N's admission with a soft smile. "Maybe I did too," he admitted, his voice carrying a hint of playful realization amidst the heavy breathing.

After the shower, Seungcheol took charge of making dinner for them. They settled down in front of the TV, enjoying their meal together. As they ate, Seungcheol noticed Y/N's knees trembling. "Are you okay?" he asked, genuinely curious about the cause of her trembling.

In response, Y/N shot him a serious glare and playfully threw a pillow at him. "It's your fault," she accused, making him raise an eyebrow in playful innocence.

Seungcheol couldn't resist teasing her, "My fault? I thought I was just following orders." They both shared a laugh, the comfortable atmosphere a stark contrast to the earlier intensity in the kitchen.

Despite the events of the day – the beach trip, swimming in the pool, and their intimate encounter in the kitchen – Seungcheol and Y/N managed to find respite in sleep before the family's arrival. The exhaustion from the various activities and the intensity of their shared moments contributed to a restful night.

The next day, the family eagerly headed to the amusement park, embracing the childlike joy that such places can inspire, regardless of age. Seungcheol, Y/N, and the others ran from one ride to another, laughing and creating memories together.

Amidst the excitement, as they waited for Jisoo's daughter to finish enjoying a particular attraction, Seungcheol turned to Y/N, he, looking around to ensure their privacy, spoke softly, "You know, I didn't want this to be just an accord anymore. It feels too real now."

Y/N met his gaze, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Maybe it's time to break this accord, Seungcheol. Let's get to know each other beyond the confines of the family charade."

He nodded, realizing the truth in her words. "Yeah, you're right. It's time." Seungcheol, feeling the genuine connection that had blossomed between them, couldn't resist injecting a bit of playfulness into the moment. He looked at Y/N with a teasing glint in his eye and asked, "So, do you think we can handle the reality outside of our little accord?"

Y/N, catching on to his playful tone, chuckled. "Only one way to find out," she replied.

Seungcheol, not one to shy away from taking a leap, closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss, filled with a blend of playfulness and a burgeoning sense of something more, marked the beginning of a journey beyond the confines of the family charade. As their lips lingered together, the promise of a genuine connection unfolded, transcending the boundaries of the carefully constructed story they had started with.

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randomdragonfires · 16 days

Text

I'm A Fire And I'll Keep Your Brittle Heart Warm [One Shot]

Text Divider by @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY | Flowers come to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage.

WARNINGS | 18+; Mild Smut.

WORD COUNT | 9.6k

A/N | Yet another repost, yay! This one was written based off an ask sent to me by @wonderbias and beta read by the loml @humanpurposes

Their union began as a fragile, delicate one.

By all accounts, Aemond Targaryen was a fine man that any maiden in the Seven Kingdoms would be proud to be with, should he– a skilled dragonrider, a scholar, a respectful man of honor, a prince worthy of his name and blood– choose to take her to wife.

If only he was not so stoic and dull, they said. The very jovial little lady of Highgarden will be bored of him in moments!

‘Twas the first of many whispers he heard of his apparent inadequacy with regards to his impending nuptials and marriage, and even though it killed him, he could not bring himself to disagree. The woman that he was to marry – the beautiful, kind, ladylike wisp of a girl that was to be entrusted to him– was a fair maiden who lit up any chamber she graced with her presence, a stark contrast to how he seemed to darken those that he stalked into.

Charming girl like that, she will hate him, they said. The poor thing is probably scared.

Every lady dreamed of chivalrous knights and charming princes, and Aemond knew very well that he was far from being either. They dreamed of charming men who would immortalize them in song, whose looks could thaw the hearts of the coldest women in an instant. Aemond knew very well that the Gods had refused him the chance to even try with her– what with their allowance of his mutilation at a tender, young age.

Even with just one eye, he saw many possibilities but to his dismay, he did not imagine any outcome would be favorable to him. With the scar he carried on his face and the weight of the world on his shoulders, Aemond was never meant to be the man that his intended deserved.

And so, he decided that he would keep her at arm's length and in consequence, save his pride. He'd reject her before she rejected him. He may not know it now, but matters of the heart are fickle– and to the utter disappointment of his pride, his little lady rose was very easy to love.

He would not be caught dead pathetically pining after a woman who would soon be his. He would not.

And so, their courtship remained devoid of romance and scandal. His family was made privy to each of their highly appropriate conversations, with them taking turns in chaperoning their walks through the gardens.

There was nothing that he wished to share, for he did not want to lose too much. He did what was expected of him, and she did the very same. Soon, there was respect, admiration, and a whole host of burgeoning feelings that Aemond tried hard to suppress - feelings that he clearly did not see in her eyes as she dared to look into his.

How could she feel anything for a stoic, dull, one-eyed man like him?

As he draped the red and black cloak over her shoulder and pledged to be her man of liege and limb, he told himself that he would not try. He would not give into fantasies, only to be met with rejection from a woman who was too good for him; one that may realize it soon enough as well.

After all, Aemond Targaryen had his pride. He would feed himself to the dragons before admitting to someone else being better than him, let alone be rejected by that same person. He was certainly not going to woo her, not when he knew that he would only be met with contempt and disgust.

It did not matter how badly he wanted to. He would not allow himself to succumb to such idyllic daydreams. He would not.

When night fell and the wedding feast was in full swing, his new good-father was the only one who could give his brother a run for his money with how deep he was in his cups. It was obvious how the wine-induced stupor affected the fat lord Tyrell as he bellowed for his daughter and his new good son to take the lead and join in the dancing and merriment.

Aemond was ready to retch at the thought, but what stopped him from making his irritation clear was the possibility that she may want to dance. His wife. He had seen her dance before– as graceful as an otherworldly swan. She had a better grasp at frivolous courtly affairs than he did.

His wife may want to dance. His wife, his wife, his wife. A little rose, his.

He shuffled his feet under the cloth-covered long table and allowed his one eye to train over his clothed boots. In spite of all the dancing lessons he had taken with Helaena, Aemond had never indulged before– and now, he was expected to entertain his bride each time a song played. The thought made him want to press his feet into the ground further than he already has, in hopes that perhaps the ground would swallow him whole.

His view of the dancing crowd had been taken from him by half along with his eye. Without the luxury of complete vision, he could not dance without bumping into everyone that was on his blind side. Now, he would have to– if she wanted to.

He thought he could say no, but he feared that if he were to look her in the eyes, he'd never be able to. Perhaps that was why he had refused to even look at her throughout the ceremony, despite her many admirable– yet failed– attempts to catch his line of sight and share a smile.

It was her meek, mouse-like voice that brought him out of his nervous trance. “We do not have to," she said, the words falling out of her lips like a song.

“You like to dance, my lady,” he said.

“But you do not, my prince. It takes two.” Her surprisingly understanding words were followed by a timid smile, one that threatened to rip through his defenses and get to him.

In the crowded throne room, as his new bride sets aside her happiness to accommodate his preferences, Aemond worried that his self-imposed distance from her may not last too long if she kept offering him kind glances and sweet smiles– no matter how forced and dutiful he knew them to be.

He had much to lose; his pride, his heart. He would not risk it, even if she was seemingly easy to love. He would not. He would not. He would not.

After all, Aemond Targaryen had his pride.

Soon after, her drunk nuisance of a father had called for the bedding. Aemond did nothing as his trembling bride was ushered away by the handmaidens and ladies, each of them wriggling her jewelry off as she stumbled in her steps before they carried her off.

Should he have asked for a private bedding? In hindsight, he believed he wronged her by throwing her to the mercies of the court in her vulnerability. Equally, he did not want to attempt a show of compassion– not when she may not even welcome it from the one-eyed fiend of a husband that she was stuck with.

When he walked into the chambers in his loose linen shirt and breeches, his breath hitched in his throat. Helaena had once told him that the Septas refer to women’s maidenheads as flowers. “Beautiful, ripe and ready for the plucking,” she had said, keeping her nose pointed upward in her imitations. He'd never given the words much thought.

Until now.

There she was. His wife, his flower, his rose, ready for plucking, in her translucent white shift and now untamed hair, like a fae in a dream. How could she possibly be his? How could she possibly be happy with a man as monstrous as him for a husband?

Her eyes, wide and fearful, flittered about his face, in his mind an expression of her repulsion. It pained him to think she did not even give him a chance.

But she was accommodating about my not wanting to dance…

Perhaps she did like to dance; just not with him.

These unsaid words and subsequent misunderstandings plagued their wedding night. Both believed the other did not desire them.

That night, she offered her flower to him– as is her duty– and he took great care in taking it from her. He made sure she was pliant, so that when he took it, she would be as glad and thrilled as he was, regardless of how well-hidden his happiness was.

He may have grimaced in disgust at Aegon's vulgar demonstrations and lessons about the pleasures of the marital bed, but he was thankful as he heard her moan out his name in a silent scream while she convulsed around his fingers. The silent sounds of her choked out moans and the heat engulfing his fingers may have very well been enough for Aemond to find release, and he reminded himself quickly that she will not want him when they're done. How could she, deformed as he was?

And so, he stopped wanting to be good for her, and simply endeavored to get it done with.

She was only more than willing to allow him to take her flower. If he was not so preoccupied with his own insecurities, he may have seen that it had gone past duty for her. Her loud moans proved the fact, and left little room for dispute (or doubt, in the minds of the prying ears that stayed close to the doors of their chambers, and the sharp eyes of the council who were now shuffling out of their seats).

He inched into her, and her tears and turned face only seemed to make it harder for him. Was he so beyond hope that she could not even look? What was it? Had he hurt her? He did not ask, lest he risk finding out that he was a disappointment. So he lost himself, drowned in his own head as he mechanically moved in and out, in and out, in and out.

Duty. Duty. Duty.

If he had not been so preoccupied with tearing his own being to shreds in his mind, he may have heard her moans as the bright pink tip of his cock hit a rough spot in her, allowing her pleasures and experiences she did not believe she would ever know. He may have known that she desired him, just as he did her.

His self-deprecating thoughts couldn't have been farther from the truth– he may not have realized it that night, but he would soon enough.

Flowers came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the first ever flower she gave him– whether she chose to see it that way or not– came to him on their wedding night, in the form of her maidenhead.

Tourneys were a time of celebration for her.

There was something to be said about the romance of watching men ask women for favors and fight with all the might and grace that they possess. She had often dreamed that a dashing knight or a courteous prince would perhaps approach her for her favor, and then perhaps crown her Queen of Love and Beauty. If she was lucky, the man would court her too.

The man she married was the antithesis of all that she hoped a tourney would bring.

Her husband was not a bad man by any means– no. He was a good and respectful husband, slightly removed and isolated for her outward nature, but she did not mind. There were worse men to be married to, and even if he never went out of his way to be there for her, he certainly treated her well when they were in each other’s presence.

She tried with him, Gods bless her.

She would try to catch his eye at the supper table, or watch him train in hopes that he would meet her watchful gaze once or twice. She would watch in a sleepy haze as he woke early in the morn, long before she had the strength or consciousness to wish him a good day, hoping he would turn to do the same. He never did.

More often than not, a curt nod and a wavering glance was all she’d get. Still there were brief, hopeful moments that kept her active in her pursuit to build a friendship with her husband.

She would have done something absolutely obnoxious— acts that would have him sneering if it was someone else– and she’d see it. That little hint of a smile, waiting to bubble through the surface, just by the corner of his pink lips, that she would have missed if she blinked. Each time there was a tenuous beginning of a hesitant smile, she felt a tiny sliver of hope.

He was not so intimidating to her now as he was in the initial days of their union– no. In a little corner of her mind, she acknowledged that fact– that is what helped her find his hand and hold it tight in nervousness, before she could even comprehend the intimacy of the act.

The knight who had just taken a harsh tumble from his horse was carried away by servants, with his head beaten bloody and hands hanging limp by his side. If she did not know better, she would have thought him dead.

The champion then raised his hands up in victory. Thunderous clapping sounds overshadowed all else around her, but she could not bring herself to join. She was still stunned by how the other knight had fallen, and was yet to let go of Aemond’s hand.

She felt the bile rise in her throat, so she brought her other hand to her chest and bowed her head down, a feeble attempt at keeping the vomit at bay. It was awhile until she managed to catch her breath again, and by then the celebrations had moved on from celebrating the champion to the crowning of his Queen of Love and Beauty.

The eldest Lady Baratheon smiled coyly as she received the wreath of winter roses, followed by a chaste kiss to her cheek. The crowd gasped at how brazen the act was, with neither of them being married, but the high of winning makes men do the most peculiar things, she supposed. In the back of her mind, regardless of how uneasy she felt, she wished– desperately.

How she wished it was her.

A childish fantasy really. What was a publicly gifted crown of flowers worth in the face of what she had? She was a Princess of the realm now, married to a skilled dragonrider from a family of illustrious history and blood. Any children they may have will be immortalized in the annals. Nothing. A crown of flowers was worth nothing when compared to what she had– or at least, that is what she would tell herself.

And yet, she craved the romance. She had always enjoyed the idea of being loved and cherished. Her husband respected her, and if she was feeling bold, she’d say he liked her– but he certainly did not love her. That much she was certain of. When she naively wished that he’d crown her, she asked if he was going to enter the lists. He had sharply turned so quickly that she feared she had angered him.

“I don’t give a sh…” He had sighed before speaking again, as though he felt tested. “I do not care for tourneys.” The sharpness in his voice had hurt her, and she did not speak of it again.

Their marriage was a decent one– but it held none of the love she hoped to have, despite all her attempts.

Did he find her so disagreeable?

All of a sudden, his hand felt cold to the touch and she let go of him like he burned her. The heat came back to her hand just as it showed on her cheeks, and his had turned cold from having lost her touch so abruptly.

“I’d like to get some fresh air, husband,” she said, and rose before he could even ask if she needed him to accompany her.

Her quick walk took her to the tent where the court ladies had been sitting, and she had stepped in right in time to hear them gossip– about her husband.

“Well he must keep it on while they… you know! It can be jarring to look at, I’m sure it is!”

“It must be terrible to see it up close all the time. I can hardly look at him from across the chamber!”

He is certainly unnerving. It does make you wonder though, do you think they actually…” the woman lowered her voice to match the vulgarity that was to follow. “Do you think they actually fuck? She cannot possibly want to, and she is not with child either…”

“Well, does it really matter if she wants to? He’s a Prince, and her husband. He’ll take his pleasure regardless.”

Regardless of where she and her husband stood, she would not stand for their marriage to become fodder for court gossip. If she stayed quiet for any longer while these empty-headed women berated her husband, she would be insulting him herself.

“Might I ask what is so amusing?” she said with sharp eyes and a tilted head. The sweat on their faces upon her arrival was apparent, and so was their nervousness.

“My Lady, we were just–”

“Princess,” she corrected.

“Yes of course, Princess. We were just–”

“Making presumptions about my marriage?”

“No… we just…”

“Don’t deny it,” she seethed, anger looking completely foreign on a soft, comely face like hers. Her nostrils flared and her nose went red in her current state, but there was no way she could stop now.

“The next time you feel the need to comment on such matters , perhaps you will all learn to remind yourself that he is a Prince of the realm and I am his wife! There will be suitable punishment, and you will all be dismissed from court at my pleasure, disgraced and husbandless. Now, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Her words were cutting and sharp, and they had the younger ladies bowing their heads in fear almost immediately.

“I’ll have you all know that unlike the other men of the court, Prince Aemond’s scar came to him along with the largest dragon in the world. His bravery only makes him more handsome to me.”

She then fixed her attention onto the married lady of the bunch and delivered a questionable blow that she would certainly feel bad about later. “If you’ve been led to believe that the man takes his pleasure from his wife even if she does not want to, then perhaps your marriage is a lot worse than I thought. Your husband must have no regard for your wants, unlike mine. And for that, I am truly sorry.”

She did not wait for them to respond as she gathered her skirts and walked out of the tent, feeling largely annoyed and satisfied to an extent. But as she began her walk back, the fear of news of her anger reaching her husband hit her like a harsh and heavy wave.

Would he call her insolent and disgraceful? Has she damaged her marriage more than it already has been?

She did not have to wait long for her answer, for Aemond had been just a few steps behind her, watching the entire scene unfold. The angry flush on her face left her as quickly as it had come, replaced by a skittish nervousness that led to her shuffling her feet as she stood before him, at a complete loss for words.

She swallowed the spit gathering in her mouth, throat bobbing as her head remained facing down to the floor, awaiting a scolding from him for her absolutely inexcusable behavior; her husband was a man who knew his courtesies, after all. He could not possibly be happy with how she carried herself and disappointed him.

“You do not look well. Let me walk you to our chambers,” was all he said before he led her away with a hand on the small of her back.

She remained worried that he was perhaps leading them to privacy and silence so he could punish her while being undisturbed. She could not have been farther from the truth.

She expected him to scream at her, forget all the courtesy that he had shown her and throw his words at her without care. What she was not prepared for, was for him to hold her chin between his thumb and index fingers, pulling her face up to meet his.

He curiously inspected her, almost as though her little show of anger thoroughly amused him. She would not be surprised if it did– she had never been so outward in her anger in the two months that they had been married; this was a completely new side to her that he was now privy to.

“What was that, wife?” His words were measured and cut.

“They…” She was stunned to find that, despite her tongue becoming loose in moments of anger, it was hard for her to speak right now. So, she chose to gulp once more and tried to look someplace else. The uncertainty in his sharp, one-eyed violet gaze was becoming too much for her to bear– but Aemond did not give up easily. He kept her head held in place as she desperately waited for the words to come to her.

“They were being crude, and insulting you.”

He looked at her for a moment, his sharp gaze refusing to waver as the sunlight pierced through the glass windows of their chamber. He then let go of her, and handed her a goblet of wine to calm her clearly unsteady senses. He watched as she took little sips from the chalice, the restless turning of the wheels in his mind apparent on his face.

Soon after, he made up a sham of a reason about having to leave when the cheering crowds became louder and louder. She nodded and continued to sip, completely oblivious to the change of heart that her husband was having as she wondered why he brought her back to their bed.

She did not know the thoughts that now ran fast and surely in his mind. She did not know that he thought his eye had cost him a chance at a happy marriage with her. She had no idea of knowing how conflicted he felt at the new realization, for his sculpted face gave nothing away.

He turned to face her with a hand on the door. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

She nodded and smiled meekly while he stalked back to the festivities.

He held his hands tightly behind him as he tried to make sense of how light his heart felt in comparison to the rest of him.

Back in the chamber, she blushed. For all her worry that he may have been disappointed, she had been completely floored by how he had responded– he was thankful. She berated herself for not considering the possibility– and smiled at the realization that for all her husband’s prowess as a warrior, in times like these, he needed a champion too.

That night, Aemond burned the midnight oil while reading in the library, trying to still his racing heart and make sense of how it leapt at newfound thoughts of his little wife.

Across the Holdfast, in the soft candlelight of their shared chambers, she sat on her husband’s dear chair, looking at her handiwork– an embroidered silk tourney favor, with a little rose.

Her husband may not care for tourneys, but making the favor allowed her the luxury of thinking that should the possibility of him willingly entering the lists come around, he would do so with her gift on his lance. Mayhaps he would crown her Queen of Love and Beauty too– the thought makes her blush.

She would give it to him should he ever choose to partake someday. Until then, it would be safely hidden away in her shelves, amidst her gowns and other possessions.

Flowers have came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the second flower that was intended for him– despite the fact that she was yet to give it to him– came to him on the day of the the twins’ name day tourney, in the form of a rose, embroidered onto a tourney favor.

They have come to enjoy each other's company.

Her coming to his defense while expecting nothing in return had lit a fire in Aemond that he could not seem to quell. What he believed she had rejected him over, she had actually taken to being proud of. What he had believed was his one big, obvious and visible fatal flaw, was something that she had taken to holding in high regard.

I’ll have you lot know that unlike the other men of the court, his scar came to him along with the largest dragon in the world. And his bravery only makes him more handsome to me.

Her words rang in his mind like the definite tolling of the Great Bell at the Royal Sept. With each chime, her assertiveness on the matter came back to linger in his thoughts, he had fallen for her – bit by bit.

Feelings had always been a conundrum to Aemond, one that he did not entirely understand or even want to. But now, with a wife who warmed him and his heart slowly but surely, with her lovely smiles and nervous face, he found that he would like some certainty in the face of all that was uncertain in his heart.

He did not know if he loved her just yet. But what he did know was that, at the pace that she had set for them, it may be a very short while before he does. His wife. His wife, his wife, his wife.

His, his, his.

Coming to terms with having a wife that actually desired his company– and him, surprisingly enough– had spurned his attempts to bring some sort of intimacy to their marriage. Gods knew that she had tried, only to be rebuffed rudely by him in the initial days of their marriage. It was a time that he now felt deep regret and shame for, one that he would not rest until he had made right.

He needed her to see that he wanted to try.

He did not know how to be the charming prince from a bard’s songs. He did not know how to make women laugh like Aegon; be as sweet and kind as Helaena; or as chivalrous and perfect as Daeron.

But what he did know was respect. Aemond understood respect as something that was earned by everyone around him, but to his wife, it should have been unconditional. It should have come to her the day he had cloaked her and made her his– but it did not. Now, he intended to make it right.

He needed her to see that he wanted to try– which is how he found himself with her on his arm, as they walked hand in hand through the corridors of Maegor’s Holdfast towards their chambers. Ah yes, hand in hand. Another one of the little joys that he savored like it was his last day alive.

Their initially cold marriage had also been fueled by his blatant refusal to simply be near her, much less touch her. Why would she have wanted to be touched by a one-eyed monster, such as the likes of him?

But the moment he realized that she did not consider him so– not in the least– led to a warmth seeping through his blood, making him crave her so much that his heart hurt. If she did not mind it, why must he not exercise his liberties? And if there was some joy to be derived from it, why would they not want to indulge?

And so he had begun. A stolen touch here, a featherlight graze there.

His huge, calloused hand, seemed to be always holding her dainty one as he accompanied her throughout their time in the castle; on the small of her back as they maneuvered through feasts and dances; around her waist as they closed the distance between each other in their sleep, with her back to his chest; clutching onto her thigh to keep her in place for when she turned around and draped her tiny leg upon his waist.

His hands, all over her.

It was not just these fleeting, quick touches that Aemond had grown to enjoy. With their bond growing stronger with each passing moment, he had realized that their marital duties were simply not duties anymore. They had gone from believing that the other had tolerated their presence, to trying their level best so that the other would know how much they desired them. The growth of their marriage was evident in how their carnal indulgences had evolved.

Where he had held himself to hover over her so as to not facilitate any unnecessary touches, he had now taken to covering her entire being with his own. His hands around her hip as he pounded into her; her hands on his chest as the tip of her fingers grazed and pinched at his nipples. His hands in her hair as he mouthed at her heaving breast; her hands around him as she held onto him as tightly as she could, never wanting to let him go. His hands on her cunt as he drew peak after peak from her before thrusting himself into her; her hands around his cock as she pumped him before impaling herself by straddling him, just the way he liked.

Their sounds of pleasure had been held back and muffled in the beginning, but now they were uninhibited sounds taken by the wind, made with the intent of being heard and making desires known.

Oh yes, their marriage had grown.

This is what Aemond had been pondering as he led her through, with servants making their way for the young prince and princess as she held onto her husband with one hand, and a piece of rolled parchment and some charcoal on the other. He enjoyed their touches now, and it made his heart soar that he did not have to doubt her want for him either.

Yes, they could make something out of this.

“How was your time in the gardens, wife?” It made him happy that with the growth of their marriage, she had taken to exercising her liberties. So, when she had come to him requesting charcoal and bound parchment so she could begin drawing again, he was only happy to oblige.

“Good. I managed to sit and watch the flowers flit about in the wind for a time, and I drew a bit as well. Then the court ladies came to join me as they…”

Aemond listened to his wife as he sat himself on his chair by the hearth, most intently, and with the utmost concentration that he could muster. He could not bring himself to make selfless romantic declarations of love, or speak to her more than he was able. But he could listen, and that is what he would do.

Not a word unheard, not a moment missed. He needed her to see that he wanted to try.

She prattled on and on about her day, and how the court ladies had gossiped about each other when they thought the other wasn’t listening. He listened to the way her voice heightened when her recollections were happy, and he noted the way she frowned when she was in disapproval. He observed how her eyes widened at shocking narrations, and how her hands seemed to move like they had a life of their own.

He kept observing, losing himself in his newfound knowledge of her, her, her… and it was not until she stood close to him, her body slotted between his legs as she held her hands behind her back that he realized she had stopped speaking.

“Go on.”

He did not expect to be given something, not when his name day had just passed. But that is exactly what happened.

“For you,” she said. With her raised eyebrows and coy smile, she managed to place a parchment roll into his hand. Aemond made note of how her head faced down and her feet shuffled as she stood in wait for his approval.

He unrolled the parchment, careful to not cause even a stray tear at the edges. His eyes raked over the drawing, one of clear skill and years of training of the highest level– one befitting a lady.

“I shall treasure it, thank you.”

She smiled at his acceptance, and he nodded. He was not a smiling man, but he hoped that she knew how much he appreciated these gestures. He hoped that their marriage had grown enough for her to notice his quirks, just as he had made note of hers.

Flowers came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the third flower that she had given him was a charcoal sketch of a rose, into which she had poured her heart and soul.

As the days passed, their mornings became brighter.

While she had hoped that the initial days of their marriage would have some semblance of love, and if not, at least affection to some extent, her hopes had been quickly dashed with the closed off and curt behavior that her husband seemed to have made his own. Neither did he ever wish her a good morrow upon sunrise, nor did he kiss her goodnight like in the songs.

But now, there was more.

Where there was coldness, there was now warmth. It was not heat, not like wildfire, no– it was warmth, like from the calm blaze of their hearth. She might not have awoken to a smile, no– her husband was not a smiling man– but she always woke to an arm snaked over her breasts, pressing into her. Where there was distance, oceans between them, there was now a shared intimacy, one that they had both been quietly happy about. She was not put to sleep with a kiss, but whenever she slept on the chaise waiting for him to arrive, he now ensured that she was put into comfortable clothes and carried to their bed with care.

He may not have cared for her in the beginning, but she knew he did now. Her husband was not a romantic man, but his small gestures were enough to make her feel happy and content.

The shift in their dynamic was not just visible in their daytime activities, but in the passions of their marriage bed as well. On the first night that they had coupled, he had been careful, experimental, doubtful. But as the days went by, he had become surer, rougher… insatiable.

She enjoyed this new side to him. She enjoyed being the woman that belonged to a fierce prince, the one that he so clearly desired. She enjoyed being held by him as he moved her up and down his cock, his head buried in her breasts as he breathed in the heady smell of sweat and sex. She enjoyed being impaled by him, her small body being split into two, all while having him whisper words of appreciation in her ears.

My little wife, my little flower. Made for me… only for me, he would say. Tell me who this cunt belongs to, he would growl, hands slapping her little nub over and over until she caught her breath, found her voice again and appeased him.

You! Gods… to you, my prince, she would whine, holding his hand in place, hoping he would fuck her with his fingers once more, just the way she liked.

It came as no surprise to her that ever since they had become welcome to each other’s affections, they had been a lot more active in their marriage bed– so much so that the lewd moans and loud curses had become court gossip.

When she had addressed the matter with him once soon after they had fucked, Aemond had smiled, albeit darkly– the only kind of smile that suited him. Dragons do not concern themselves with the opinions of sheep, he had said. His insinuation that she was now a dragon too, all while his warm breath fanned her neck and his large hands squeezed her backside, was all she needed to quell her worries.

And of course, as was the natural order of these things, she was now with child.

She had been overjoyed when she had found out, and a tad relieved too. The court ladies whispering about her womb was not something she appreciated– their assumptions about her being barren, even less. So when she found out, she insisted that she be the one to break the news to her husband– her time as an expectant mother would never completely be her own, given the station she had now married into.

But this, this moment could be hers and his. It would be theirs alone.

And so, she sat in wait at the training grounds, watching him as he expertly maneuvered his sword and slashed at his mentor, Ser Cole. Dodge, lunge, slash. Dodge, lunge, slash. Dodge, lunge–

Ser Cole had bested him, having noticed the predictability in his movements. Aemond of course, being the headstrong man that he was, refused to give up. The anger in his face at being won over in a fight did not escape her, and she would be lying if she said it did not awaken desire in her once more. Before she could think further however, one of the lords in the audience had piped up.

“Perhaps the Prince would benefit from a token of luck from his dear lady wife!” He said, and the watching crowd around them seemed to agree as they cheered and whistled. Aemond was flummoxed, not knowing how to cope with being faced with the topic of his wife while in the middle of a fight. It was only then that he noticed her, red-faced and smiling as she was– before he could say anything, she had taken the lead.

“I’m afraid I’ve come empty handed, my lord. I’ve nothing to offer him right now!” She quipped with a smile. It had warmed him to know that she was jovial enough for the two of them, allowing him the luxury of staying quiet as she became his champion during situations like these.

“Ah well, he knows you’re here now, Princess! If that does not add to his fire, I do not know what will!”

Perhaps it was her presence, or it was his own prowess as a swordsman. But Aemond was quick to come through this time around. The crowds cheered for their Prince, and so did the man who had taught him to be all that he was.

“Well met, my prince,” Ser Cole said. He patted her dragon prince on his shoulder and walked over to where the swords were arranged. Aemond quickly followed in reverence to his teacher, one that he did not freely give to most. Soon after, the crowds had dispersed, and she watched as his slender, tall form stalk towards her.

“Since when do you frequent the training grounds, wife?”

“Can a wife not seek her husband out when she wants to?”

She could not have imagined rhetorics like these tumbling out of her mouth in the initial days of their union. But they were now closer than they had ever been, and she had discovered that it would not hurt to take initiative, especially given how quiet of a man her husband could be.

He was not the charming prince from the books or the songs, but she certainly loved who he was– inquisitive, considerate and respectful.

“Hm. Perhaps.”

Their walk back to their apartments was a slow and quiet one, with her knowing that he preferred his moments of quiet soon after his training. They soon settled into the solar, with the food spread out for them to break their fast.

As was his habit, Aemond stripped himself of his clothes as she checked the water in the tub with the tips of her fingers, water rippling as her hands moved. He was quick to step in and let his hands rest on either side of the tub, his legs ramrod straight but slowly loosening up as she ran a washcloth over him with a gentle softness that is most unlike him.

Her hands glided over his chest, arms and he caught hold of her when her hands moved to clean his neck, beckoning her to come closer. “My dutiful little flower, hm? Come to assist her husband and answer his every beck and call.”

“I am nothing, if not dutiful.” She said, playful smile teasing him as her breasts threatened to spill out of the neckline of her dress– causing his cock to half-harden at the sight. She kissed his cheek and set the washcloth down, hands traveling to his alabaster hair as she ran her fingers through it, allowing her wet hands to trudge through. When she was done, he was quick to pull at her hand from his side, causing her to bend to meet him, eyes to eye.

“You have a council meeting to get to, husband. Now is not the time.”

She knew very well what he wanted. It was what she wanted too– which is precisely why her own protests meant absolutely nothing to her as she gave in, dress riding up to her thighs and billowing wet in the water as she straddled him. Her cunt was already soaked for him, and he was hot and ready from all the energies that training seemed to have put into him. She rocked her hips forward and backward, adjusting to his girth, while sighing and breathing at the feeling of having him in her. It did not matter how many times he’d taken her, she would never get used to feeling so full.

Soon enough, he had her held harshly by her waist in a bruising grip, his teeth nibbling at her sensitive nipples as he moved her up and down, up and down, up and down. The water crashed out of the tub like waves crashing onto shore and she was quick to fall apart in a mix of pain and pleasure, moaning his name in her broken voice, followed by a silent scream. His release followed soon after, cock twitching in her as he drew her closer, closer and closer still. When she felt his cock soften after a time, she got up and he let her, following close behind.

“You fought well today, husband.” She said, in a feeble attempt to coerce a conversation from him as they sat at the table. He was a man of silence, and she was not. He did not prefer it, but she would try anyway - because there were times when he indulged her.

“Hm. Thank you.”

The smell of cut fruit was intoxicating to her, more so than usual. She had heard of women craving peculiar kinds of food during their time as expectant mothers, so she supposed that this may have to do with the little dragon that she now grew in her belly. The rest of their time eating moved in a swift silence– a comfortable one. The only sounds they heard were of the servants in the corridors and the birds chirping from out the window.

When they finished, the trays were taken away and he got up, ready to leave to sit in on the council meeting that his grandfather had called him for. He was halfway out the door after nodding to her when she took his hand, and he stopped.

Her hands held onto his as tightly as they could, and she was skittish as she continued to look down at the floor. By now, he knew her quirks well enough to know that she did that only when she wanted to say something.

“Go on.” He urged her as his other hand reached for her too.

She drew in a sharp breath as she bit her lip. “I… I am with child, husband.”

She did not know what to expect from him of her news– but his silent sigh and slight smile as his hands reached down to cover her belly in his hold is enough of a reaction. “Thank you,” he said, his gratitude and happiness made obvious– to her, even if not to anyone else. She did nothing but smile as his forehead met hers in a soft touch– their touches were always passionate and rough while in the privacy of their chambers, so it was peculiar for her to be treated this way. She found that she enjoyed it, just as much as she enjoyed being roughly handled by him.

She then stretched the fingers of one hand, revealing a little silk patch, a little tourney favor with a rose stitched on it. A flower, from his little flower.

“I know you do not prefer tourneys, but… it is my hope that you would at least keep it with you while you train.”

His hands ran over the soft silk, fingers tracing the intricate patterns that she had clearly taken her time with. He was quick to smoothen it out and pocket it, following it with a kiss to her lips.

“Thank you, for everything.”

The favor was only meant for the training grounds. But a week later, when she found it peeking out of his pocket while they walked around the gardens, she smiled. Soon, she found out that he kept it with him all day.

Flowers came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the fourth flower that she gave to him, came to him in the form of a favor with an embroidered rose, one that he kept on his person at all times.

There was something to be said about the comforts of silence.

Her husband was not a smiling man, nor was he an ardent conversationalist. Being a woman who leaned towards being both, she had begun their marriage with the intent of treading lightly, lest she annoy him or risk having him dismiss her halfway through. And she did try; Gods knew that she did.

Royal marriages were a sacred duty– those held in its sanctity would have to hold themselves to a higher standard, no matter how much it hurt them. With that being said, she was eternally thankful for Aemond understanding her preferences and trying to meet her halfway. She had been prepared for a man who would coldly dismiss her and her wants, but she had not been prepared for one that would actually want her.

One of the greatest pains of being born a noblewoman, she supposed, was that happiness in itself, was a privilege– one that she wished was not as such. She wished for it to be an easy thing to have, and as such, understood that she had been blessed with a quiet and peaceful marriage - one that did not take from her more than she was willing to give. It did not matter how many times she thought it over– she never failed to be as grateful as she was at the first realization, many moons ago.

These were her thoughts as she accompanied her husband in the library. Aemond sat opposite her, on the other side of the table with his finger running over the texts of the Summer and Winter Annals, deeply engaged in the knowledge that the book had to offer on the now lost Kingdom of Sarnor, once a famed trade partner of Valyria.

The fresh assortment of flowers lay haphazardly on her side of the bench, while she worked towards entwining them all onto the coir to make a crown. She often stole a glance at her husband as she repeatedly adjusted herself on her seat, one that was bigger than her usual one - to accommodate her, and the babe that she now carries.

An heir, a royal heir. There is dragon blood in you now, he had said.

She felt it, what with her babe’s constant reminders - boy or girl, the kicks were hard and swift, and it never failed to take her by surprise.

Aemond was a very fast reader, she gathered. His pages turned a lot faster than hers did, and his eyes never stuck to one part of the parchment for long - they flitted about and were restless, aiding him in his desire to learn as much as he can in the least amount of time. They have been married for half a year by now, and yet she manages to learn something new about him every day.

Her deft fingers worked through the stems of the flowers, piercing the sharp ends of the coir through them. In and out, in and out, in and out, she went - establishing a pattern that she ended up memorizing, whether she was cognizant of it or not.

Aemond stood up as he noticed a guard waiting near the doors, summoning him on behalf of the King. Her crown was now completely done, and she admired her handiwork as she twirled it in her finger and smiled. Aemond was now speaking to the guard as she ran the tip of her fingers over the petals. She brought it closer to her nose to smell them - the flowers were not as fragrant as they were once before, but there was a faint scent that she adored.

He nodded, and she could not help but smile again as he approached her. It struck her harder with each moment, how the Gods had blessed her with him - him with his infinite knowledge, calm disposition and otherworldly beauty. She wondered if the babe she carried would look like him - she hopes, hopes and hopes that they would.

He took the crown of flowers in his hands and handled it with the same care that she put into making it. It looked thoroughly out of place, yet so at home in his hands - much like herself.

A mildly happy lift at the edge of his lips caused a sharp dimple - one that made him look harsh, content and menacing at the same time. She may have wished for a Prince from the songs all the moons ago - but right now, she could not help but think that she had been blessed with someone greater, even if she knew that he did not believe it himself.

He placed the crown atop her head, crowning her. She remembered wishing he would crown her Queen of Love and Beauty at the twins’ name day tourney - but at this moment, as his fingers glided over her smooth hair to set the crown of white roses into place, she was happier than she could have ever been at any tourney.

“Escort the Princess safely to our chambers,” he ordered, after rubbing her growing stomach and giving her a kiss on her temple before going to meet the King. She stood slowly, and noticed that one unused and withering flower had been left behind. The air from outside the castle gushed through the windows, and it was purely by instinct that she grabbed it by the stem and placed it inside the pages of Aemond’s book before the pages flew - so it would be marked and he could begin where he left off if he so wished.

Long after her exit, Aemond came back to his bench after finishing his meeting with the King. He noticed the protruding stem, and he could not help but feel the warmth coarse through his chest as he opened the tome and found the withering flower pressed inside.

Flowers came to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the fifth flower that she gave to him came to him in the form of a dried rose, one that he kept tucked safely inside his favorite book.

It was moments like these that made Aemond believe in anyone but himself.

Being able to love someone blindly was not a gift that Aemond ever found himself capable of giving. Ever since the loss of his eye, he had grown to be full of spite and resentment, believing that having his dragon was enough to make the loss of company around him worthwhile. Nobody knew how to speak to him anymore– how does one comfort a boy who could only see half the world around him?

And then, she came to him. His wife.

With her free smiles and open heart, she had made her way through into the center of his. He found that he preferred her there, where she belonged. She had made her home in his heart, and he marveled at how despite not matching up to her in any way that mattered, she had found it in herself to allow him to take shelter in hers.

It brought him shame to think of how they could have fallen in love much sooner if he had been open to her affections and not been so wrapped up in his own presumed fallacies. But with time, he learned that in a world where marriages remained cold until the bitter end, a late bloom of happiness was a gift that he should learn to treasure.

It is a girl. Do not ask me why I believe so, husband. I simply do, she had said.

The tomes say a bigger belly is indicative of a boy. I read it, he had countered then.

He stood corrected. Aemond would tell the entire realm that his worldly knowledge did not stand a chance against his wife’s intuition– the little girl he held in his arms was enough support for his claim.

She slept soundly in his arms as he sat in his chair by the hearth. His wife, tired from her taxing labors, had taken to sleeping through most of the last three days, and he had not left his daughter’s side, not once.

He held her head as his mother carried her for the very first time, eyes shining in joy as she thanked them both for making her a grandmother once more. There were very few things that gave Alicent Hightower joy, and watching her children have babes of their own was one of them.

He rested the tip of his fingers over her smooth and frail silver hair as his grandfather took a good look at her, allowing himself a moment with his guard down. Aemond had not seen his grandfather look at anyone with such reverence, not unless it was Helaena, Jaehaera or his own mother. And now, Aemond suspected that his grandfather, for all his cold demeanor, did have a soft corner in his heart for the women of his life.

He had towered over the crib as the twins took turns gawking at her, after spending hours begging to see their new cousin. Aemond brought them after they promised to not make too much noise– both mother and daughter were fast asleep. Jaehaera had asked him if she could braid her hair when she grew some, and Jaehaerys poked at the new babe's nose (her mother's nose) with his thumb in curiosity. Aemond laughed, for he was intrigued by her too– only, it was better contained.

He held her tightly to his chest with his hand over her head as Aegon came to meet his newborn niece– completely sober and bathed, upon Aemond’s threats of murder if he came anywhere near his babe with his foulness. He smiled as he dropped the little dragon toy in her crib, looking over at the exhausted mother who could barely keep her eyes open. Aemond’s one eye followed his brother’s then, and visibly softened at the sight of his wife. Aegon laughed and quipped, “I never thought I’d say this brother, but I suppose you do wear the lovestruck look well.”

He had rocked her in silence as Helaena cooed at her, elated at the thought of becoming an aunt to a niece. This family is in dire need of more women, she had mumbled absentmindedly once. “She’s beautiful,” she whispered and Aemond enthusiastically agreed.

She is beautiful, and she is his. His own daughter, given to him by his own wife.

In the nights, when he was left alone with the women around whom his entire world now revolved, Aemond let tranquility take him. And it was in moments like these, that he learned to love them both with all that he had– blindly, and unconditionally.

It was in moments like these, that he learned to believe.

Flowers have come to Aemond in multiple shapes and forms throughout his marriage, and the sixth flower that she gave to him, came to him in the form of his little daughter. A little flower, from his flower.

The flowers kept coming to him throughout the many years that followed, and he valued every one of them– for they had all come from her, and they were all a part of her.

His flower. His wife. His very own.

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gucciwins · 5 months

Text

Y/N just wants Harry to like her.

Word count: 5964

A/N: Friends!!!!! I am sorry to have disappeared but I am back. Yes, I am aware this is a Halloween/October story but you're getting it now mid November (that has been going by fast). I won't work on any holiday stories because I have no idea what to write. So if you have an idea and want me to write it feel free to shoot me an ask.

Now happy reading! I love you

Many people go to work ready to return home, but not Y/N. No, she walks in every day with a smile and a pep in her step. She greets her coworkers by name and occasionally brings baked goods she knows everyone will enjoy. Y/N loves her job, and she’s happy to go every day.

Y/N went from working in a job she hated because it was filled with men constantly belittling her and gaslighting her that she was doing her job wrong when she was actually excelling. It all got to be too much, and Y/N decided to quit. Thank goodness she did because soon into her job search, she received an email from Carla Crain asking her if she’d be interested in joining her company. Y/N went to the interview, and after basically being pitched her dream job, she accepted and entered as head engineer.

She’d be lying if she wasn’t nervous starting, but the people Carla had hired all shared the same values on work and life. Y/N knew she’d be in safe hands. The company is small but slowly growing. It allows for every employee to get to know each other and everyone to remember that together, they can be successful. Y/N had been at the job for two years and, with time, brought new coworkers.

There is Estrella, who loves to talk to you about astrology, ironically enough. She states that the invisible string theory is real and that if everyone tracked it, they would notice just how small the world is.

Carmy has a tough exterior, but once anyone gets him talking, he never stops. He loves chatting about his family and his pet Pitbull named Daisy.

Maeve is petite, and every other month comes in with a new color in their hair. Y/N enjoys it when everyone in the office places bets on what it will be.

Tatum is from Scotland and loves to remind everyone when they all go out for drinks on the weekend.

Chessy is the only one who works remotely, but when she comes in, she is always laughing in the office. They also all get a basket of fresh fruit and vegetables from her garden.

Overall, Y/N knows she had the best coworkers and wouldn’t change her job for the world, but as their company grows, so does the need in their team. The newest hire is Harry Styles, who has come in as a computer technician to help develop their website and also help with any internal security. Honestly, all she knew was that it was a complex job.

Harry was on the quiet side. She tried to start conversations with him, but he always seemed to brush her off. At first, Y/N wondered if she should take it personally but soon learned he did that to everyone. Even though he didn’t open up to them, they still invited Harry to join them.

The thing was, he rejected all their dinners. Y/N loved going to a Korean BBQ Maeve introduced them to, and Harry claimed not to eat meat (not that she didn’t think it wasn’t true. Chessy was vegetarian, after all.) They would go to a bar and share a few drinks when they knew they would all be having a long weekend off. Harry always claimed he had an early morning. It didn't matter if they offered to meet earlier. Y/N’s favorite nights were trivia nights that happened at a local brewery. Y/N was a beat, especially in history. Harry declined, and this one hurt her the most.

Everyone would ask Harry to join.

Karaoke. Can’t hold a tune.

Bowling. Too loud.

It seems there was an excuse for everything.

Everyone began to stop inviting him out, and while Y/N didn’t enjoy being told no, she would send notes to the office with the time and place of what they would be doing. She’d always keep an eye on the door, but Y/N went home disappointed each time.

The thing was, Y/N was determined to make a friend out of Harry. She soon learned large public settings must be overwhelming for him and decided to find a new way to approach him. Everyone took lunch at the same time in the office except for Harry. Sometimes, they all ate at the sub shop across the street. Most times, Y/N brought food from home, and she cooked. While she liked eating out, Y/N preferred a home-cooked meal. She caught Harry taking his lunch half an hour later than her and used that to her advantage.

They had a conference that always remained empty as everyone preferred the main lounge. Harry went in there every day for his lunch hour. One day, Y/N walks in, smiles at him, and sits as far away as she can. She made sure to only be there for ten minutes. The next day, she stayed for twenty and wished him a nice lunch when she left.

Slowly, Harry begins to spare her glances, but Y/N keeps to herself until the day she sits across from him.

“Hi, Harry. Is it okay for me to sit here?”

No answer.

“I’m going to take that as a yes.”

He fidgets with his fork.

“I saw a lime bike out front. Did you ride that today?”

Harry looks at her briefly before staring back at his plate.

“I’ve always wanted to try one, but I’m honestly scared of being hit by a car. Chessy lets me ride hers when I go down to visit her. She’s got beautiful trails. You’d probably enjoy it.”

Y/N thinks that’s enough for today and excuses herself. She doesn’t realize Harry noticed she didn’t take a bite of her lunch. When she goes back to her desk after using the restroom, she finds three chocolate chip cookies sitting on her desk. Y/N rushes to try one, doesn’t even think of who delivered them or that a green-eyed man was standing right outside waiting to hear her reaction.

With time, it seems Harry is coming to appreciate Y/N’s presence. He has never expressed it, but she knows because he nods when he agrees to something she says or tightens the hold on his fork when Y/N shares something upsetting. Y/N had not gotten more than two words out of him. At this point, Y/N felt like Harry knew everything about her; all she knew was that he had the most beautiful eyes, and his hair always looked soft.

One day, after many lunches together, she finds Harry reading a book. Y/N knows he might want quiet, but her curiosity gets the best of her.

“Any good?”

Harry looks up and grimaces. “Think it’s really boring.”

Y/N laughs because she wasn’t expecting that response. “Then put it down.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t like not knowing the ending.”

Y/N shrugs, “if you don’t like a book, I wouldn’t put myself through the torture of it all. Skip to the end if you're curious.” She understands she spoke too much and excuses herself.

The next day, Harry is sitting in his usual spot, but this time, a new book is in his hand. Y/N bites back a smile.

“What’s this one about?”

“My sister recommended it,” he defends.

Y/N isn’t halted by his harsh tone. “What’s it about?”

“Well, it’s Pride and Prejudice.” He shows her the book cover.

“Like the movie?” Y/N asks.

Harry laughs, and Y/N feels successful. His laughter rings in her ears. It’s a lovely sound, and she wishes to hear it more. “Yeah…I like the movie.”

“Me too,” she gushes. “Do you think I’d like the book?”

He frowns, “if you like Jane Austen.”

“Might have to pick it up next time I’m in the shops.”

Their interactions are solely during their lunches but sometimes spills out during work. Y/N seemed to have an issue with her computer and radioed IT. She needed to submit her document, but her desktop appeared to freeze whenever she opened a new file. Harry knocked on her door, and she welcomed him in. Y/N explained the issue, and Harry was quick to get to work. It was only a few minutes when she noticed that her document was open and her computer wasn’t having a meltdown.

“Thank you so much, Harry!” Y/N cheers, knowing he saved her.

Harry shrugs because it’s his job. “You have a nice photo.” He’s pointing to her picture frame on her desk. It’s a picture of her and a dog in Iceland at the end of her hike. It was taken back when she was nineteen years old.

“Thank you. I took that on my first solo trip.” She bites her lip, hoping Harry takes the bait.

“Where to?” He asks curiously.

She silently cheers, “Iceland.”

“Is that your dog?”

“I actually found him mid-hike and took him back with me. I hoped to see his owner on the trail, but there was no luck. He didn’t even seem worried. Once I returned to the car park, his owner was there. After that hike, I decided I liked the company of a dog and returned home to adopt Tutter, a Jack Russel Terrier who loves to play fetch.”

“Why isn’t Tutter on your desk?”

Y/N feels her face flush, “now, don’t be mean. I love my son, but that trip taught me I can do anything I set my mind to, whether alone or with company.”

Harry gives her the slightest smile. “I-I learned Italian because I always dreamed of having an Italian home.”

Y/N’s eyes brighten. Harry is opening up to her, and instead of pushing, she offers more of herself. “I’ve dreamed of visiting. The Amalfi coast is my dream to swim in. Silly, I know,” she brushes off, trying to downplay her excitement.

Harry doesn’t let her. “You’ll make it.”

He finally excuses himself. Y/N is happy for the rest of the day because she realizes Harry is allowing her in.

September means the preparations for Halloween have begun. It starts with little things, from coasters and mugs to the occasional treat. One day, a tiny spider sits on his desk for a second. Harry believed it was real until it began to glow purple. Harry kept it on his desk next to his sticky notes. He doesn't do anything about it; there’s no need. By the second week, the office is entirely decorated. Harry admits a few decorations have scared him, especially the skeleton in the corner of the restroom.

It’s a quiet day when he’s walking by the break room on his way to the secluded office to have lunch when he hears people talking. Harry pauses because he hears Y/N’s voice mixed in with everyone else.

“But it seems like he doesn’t like us,” Harry hears quietly.

“It’s hard,” Y/N defends. “You’re all extroverts. It can be overwhelming.”

Harry knows she’s trying for them to understand.

“But Carla is all about unity in the office. This is a concern.”

“It’s not, Carmy.” Y/N shuts him down, clearly upset she had to defend him.

Harry decides he’s heard enough and decides to eat lunch alone in his car. He’s thankful it was a sandwich and nothing he had to heat up. For the entire lunch and the rest of the day, all he thinks about are the words of his coworkers.

Y/N looked for Harry, excited to talk about a book she started, but Harry was nowhere to be found. She wouldn’t have been concerned, but it’s clear no one saw him since before lunch. She wishes Harry could confide in her even if a fraction of what she shares with him/

The next day, everyone walks into the office at their usual time, everyone making their rounds together to the break room to prepare their coffees and store their lunch in the fridge. When Y/N walks in, she sees her coworkers huddled around the table and peeks around them to see what has captured their attention. There on the table is a box of Halloween cookies from a bakery uptown with a note attached.

Enjoy - HS

Y/N lets a smile take over her face. She knew Harry cared about them but understood why he finally did something. She tells her coworkers they owe him an apology, and they all agree. Y/N makes sure to head to Harry’s office and thank him for the cookies. Harry tells her it’s nothing. She bounces away to her office, where Estrella, Carmy, Maeve, and Tatum are standing outside her door.

“Can you come with us? Feel like he likes you.” Tatum tells her.

Y/N sighs and tells them to follow her. Once again, she knocks on his door, and they all file in when he welcomes her in. Harry looks at them confused.

“Uh, is there an issue?” Harry asks, concerned.

Carmy starts, “we want to apologize if you overheard us yesterday.”

“Right,” Harry sighs, knowing it might be a good time to share with them. If he trusted Y/N and she trusted them, he knew he could also start to.

“It was wrong of us,” Maeve continues. “Y/N raves about how smart and nice you are, but we don’t get to see that. We’re sorry.”

Everyone else repeats the sentiment while Harry looks at Y/N, who offers him an encouraging smile. She must know his anxiety is through the roof.

Harry takes a deep breath, “right, uh.” He looks down at his shoes, untied lace on his black Adidas. “I struggle with social anxiety and new environments. It’s better than when I was a kid, but it’s easy to get overwhelmed even more when being the new guy.”

“No worries. We get that,” Tatum expresses. “Estrella gets bad migraines.”

“Don’t air other people’s personal stuff,” Y/N reminds them.

“We’re sorry,” they offered one last time. “Thanks for the cookies.”

After that, they hurried out while Y/N stayed behind.

“I wanted to apologize,” he begins.

“You don’t–” Harry cuts her off. “You’ve made me feel comfortable.”

Y/N sighs, letting her shoulders drop. “Not enough, it seems.”

“It can just be too much sometimes.”

“I-I get panic attacks.” Y/N shares, surprising herself. “When I overwhelm myself, it can happen. It’s uncommon and has not happened at work, but I understand.”

“Thank you for sharing,” Harry tells her honestly. “Lunch?”

“See you in a bit then.”

Through September, Y/N and Harry have lunch together every day. They read together, Harry more into classic literature, and Y/N loving to devour a juicy romance that has her pausing every few minutes, trying her best not to scream because the love interest brushed hands. Some days, Y/N will do a sudoku game while Harry does the daily crossword. Y/N likes to solve the Wordle of the day and most times asks Harry for help if she fears she might not get it. Some days, Y/N brings in her laptop during lunch because she is behind and needs to catch up. Harry reminds her to relax. He knows it’s easier said than done, so he tells her about the book he’s reading or asks about her dog and the snacks he eats.

Before she knows if they’ve made it to October. One of the best months of the year. Y/N loves planning events, and this is one she wishes Harry would say yes to. She knocks on his office door, and Harry freezes, staring at his computer screen. He glances at the calendar; it's the first Monday of the month, and Harry knows they’ve planned a fun event.

Harry is practicing his excuse when Y/N walks in with a bright smile, wearing a “Great Pumpkin” shirt with Snoopy and Charlie Brown. She has told him it’s her favorite movie to watch during the month and “The Conjuring” Harry wasn’t sure how the sweetest girl he knew could handle a horror film like that. He had told her she was fearless.

“Hi, Y/N, pretty shirt.”

Y/N looks down at it as if she had forgotten what she was wearing. She beams at his compliment. “Thank you, Harry!”

Harry asks how her day is going and shares how there was traffic on the way down and how she didn’t have time to stop by her favorite coffee shop because there was a line out the door. “Pumpkin spice isn’t even that good, H. I mean, it’s okay, but I wanted my coffee.”

He laughs at her pouting and promises to make her one during lunch. She perks up at his mention of their shared time together.

“Speaking of our time together. We plan to go to a haunted pumpkin patch in the next town over if you want to join us. It’s two weeks from now, so it's the 21st.” Harry could hear the excitement in her voice and didn’t think he could say no to her.

“Everyone is going?”

“We invited everyone, but only Carmy, Estella, Maeve, Tatum, and myself are going. Carla was not for it. Dan is warming up to us but still says no. Though he did agree for trivia next week.”

Before he can stop himself, he says, “yes.”

“You will?” Y/N answers surprised.

“Mhm…uh, it sounds like fun,” he says unconvincingly.

Y/N’s smile brightens, “I’m not hung on haunts, but they’ve got amazing apple cider you’ve got to try with me.”

“Happy to join,” he tells her honestly. “Let me know the ticket cost or if we need to purchase our own.”

She nods eagerly. It’s clear Harry has just made her day.

The day comes faster than he’s ready, and while a part of him is excited, Harry feels his nerves will get the best of him. Y/N had told them no one was dressing up in costume and even went as far as to send him a photo of her outfit to assure him she wasn’t playing a joke with him. She was wearing bell bottoms with a Mickey Mouse in a pumpkin shirt. She told him it was his favorite to wear each year.

Harry knew it would be cold, so he wore a simple Halloween shirt in his closet and loose-fitting jeans. His jacket in his car he knew would keep him warm throughout the night. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone (only Y/N) but also wanted to look nice outside of the office for once. When Harry parked, Y/N told him she’d wait by the entrance for him, and he couldn’t miss her as she had a cute pumpkin headband on.

It seemed Y/N spotted him, too, because she rushed towards him. “Hi, Harry,” she greeted with a cheery smile.

“Hi, you look lovely,” he offered her a small compliment that made his hands sweat.

“You’re too sweet. Come on, we were waiting on you.” She grabs his hand and pulls him along to where everyone else is.

Everyone offers their greeting, and he receives a few compliments on his tame outfit. It’s an old Halloween shirt he got at a vintage shop in New Orleans five years ago. His sister went on a trip and asked him to join. Harry could never say no to her.

Harry notices everyone begins to drift off into conversations, but Y/N stays by his side. He takes the time to admire her as she looks around at all the decorations. There are a lot of people, but it seems they are heading to the pumpkin patch. There are stalls selling sweet treats, and he keeps in mind to buy Y/N a cider, remembering she mentioned loving it. Harry has always thought being in a relationship to be intimidating. He loves love but struggles to put himself out there, to allow someone else to get to know him, but here is Y/N, who managed to worm her way into his life, knocking down all of his walls.

Harry likes Y/N.

It’s something he took a long time to figure out, but when he realized the excitement of seeing her each morning, he looked forward to it. He let it consume him, but he had no idea if she could feel the same way.

“Did you drive here, Harry?” Y/N asks, breaking their silence.

“I did,” he answers.

“Do you think you could maybe take me home?” She brushes her hair out of her face. “I came with Tatum, but she’s been wanting to take the time to connect with Estella, if you know what I mean,” Y/N gestures to them kissing on hay bales.

Harry had no idea that there were feelings between them. “I can do that, Y/N.”

“Great!” She cheers gratefully. “I owe you an apple cider, then.”

Y/N eagerly walks them to the stand, and before she can pay for both, Harry slips the kind older lady a twenty walking away with their drinks. Y/N stays behind, shocked, but quickly catches up, pouting at Harry. “Harry, I was going to pay.”

He shook his head, “my mum would have my head if I let you pay.”

Y/N bends her head, careful to take a sip of the warm drink. “Well, thank you.”

Maeve bounces over to them. “Hi beauties, we’re ready to start if you all are.”

Harry eyes Y/N, waiting to see her response. Y/N offers her friend a large grin, and Harry agrees he’s ready. He throws away their ups, and once he finds Y/N with the group, he slithers to stand behind her. Y/N offers him a tense smile as the group tries to decide who will lead.

“I can go in front,” Harry offers, sensing no one wanting to make the first move. Everyone thanks him and heads to the first maze. Y/N informs him it’s once based on the catacombs in France.

“There’s a movie based on the catacombs,” Y/N shares as they walk together.

“As Above So Below,” Harry says. “It spooked me.”

“You’ve seen it,” she laughs, holding onto his arm for a second, unable to contain her excitement. “It’s one of my favorites.”

“It’s a good one,” he agrees.

They fall into silence as the chatter of their coworker fills the air. Harry sees Y/N get fidgety, but she’s smiling as she leads the way to the short line. “I’m actually really nervous,” she tells Harry.

“We’ll be fine. I got you,” he assures Y/N.

Harry extends his hand, and she accepts it. He intertwines their fingers and pulls her along as the line moves slowly. Y/N does her best not to think about the feeling of his hand, but it fits perfectly between hers. She feels her hand begin to sweat and wants to pull it away, but Harry has a firm grip on her.

“Is it okay?” Harry nods, gesturing to their hands.

“Safe, uh, I feel safe.”

The worker asks how many, and Y/N peeks behind Harry to tell her six. Harry is grateful Y/N knows when to take charge because while he can lead a scary maze and knows everyone is dressed in costumes, he still feels nervous speaking to strangers. Harry squeezes her hand once in thanks. She gives him two quick squeezes in return.

Harry guides them in. Y/N lets go of his hand to hide behind Harry, her hands on his shoulder as she peeks behind him. There is a group ahead where she can hear the people in front screaming, which allows her to prepare for the scare, if that is even possible.

Her eyes widen in amazement as she takes in the darkness of the building. Everything is covered in black cloth. She can see the spots where actors will jump out. Y/N mumbles an apology to Harry for holding on to him tight. Estella is behind her, screaming at everything that moves. Harry steps through the curtain, and she feels her hold on him loosen. As she is stepping closer to reach him, a man screams in her face, making her rush forward and propel Harry into a wall.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” Y/N apologized repeatedly as Harry rushed them to finish the maze. She felt her heartbeat in her throat and knew she needed to calm down. One look at Harry, and he rushed her to a dark corner, not concerned about their friends.

“Y/N? I’m okay. You’re okay.” Harry tried assuring her.

She repeated it in her head. They were okay. They got out of the dumb maze, and Harry wasn’t hurt. It took her a few minutes to realize she had a panic attack. Y/N had not even felt it coming and didn’t think a haunted house would trip her into one, but with all the overthinking she had been doing, it made sense it led to this.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” Y/N bashfully looks away from him. She can’t believe she embarrassed herself in front of him like this.

“No apologies,” he brushes her off and doesn’t ask her any questions, only to ensure she is okay.

They rejoin the group after ten minutes by the looks of everyone's sympathetic smiles. She knows they saw her freak out, but they’re her friends. She knows she’s in safe hands with everyone, especially Harry.

“What’s the next maze?” Y/N asks cheerfully.

And so they continue on.

The next maze is much smoother than the first. Carmy leads, tucking Harry and Y/N in the middle with Tatum and Estella in the back. That order seems to comfort Y/N for the next few mazes. Each worker makes her scream but then falls into giggles when Harry traces comforting shapes on her hand. It takes her mind off these scarers trying to get her to scream and instead focus on the gentle touches of her crush.

While doing the mazes is fun, Y/N is soaking up talking to Harry in line. They’re in a new environment where they do not need to discuss work. She feels free to ask him anything, but sometimes she is unsure where to start. Y/N doesn’t know if she wants to hear about his weekend plans or ask him about his favorite movie or who his favorite Muppet character is?

Talking to Maeve and everyone else is easy because she’s gone out with them. She knows them personally, but with Harry, he always kept that guard up, and now she’s unsure what to do if he decides to keep it up.

To her surprise, Harry always starts the conversation with her. Harry shares about a new show he started watching and how it makes him anxious for the main character when they do something out of character. When he asks Y/N if there is a show she recommends, her mind goes blank, and the first thing that comes to mind is “Fleabag.”

“It’s the saddest but most comforting show I have ever seen,” Y/N gushes.

“With Phoebe Waller-Bridge?”

“Mhmm…the second season has Andrew Scott. Irish treasure.”

“Paul Mescal,” he adds.

“Hozier.”

“Saoirse Ronan,” they say in unison before falling into fits of giggles.

“You’ve got taste, Styles.”

“As do you.”

The line moves, and they change conversations to talk about the best musicals they’ve seen. Y/N swears “Waitress” is the best thing created, but Harry tells her “Moulin Rouge” is his favorite. Y/N loves how easily the conversation with Harry seems to flow. He feels like a long-lost friend. Someone who once was in her life has now found his way back to her.

Not only is he getting along with her, but everyone is getting to see the Harry she had come to know. The one who makes cheesy jokes and loves to hear every detail of the story being told. It turns out he and Maeve frequent the same record store. There’s a Stevie Nicks vinyl Harry is on the hunt for, and Maeve promised to keep an eye out for him. Tatum learns Harry can play guitar and asks him to show them sometime. Something he agreed to with pink cheeks. Y/N knew tonight was a big step for Harry, and she was glad everyone made him feel comfortable.

As the night was coming to an end, the maze lines got shorter, and the more Y/N screamed. It made her laugh right after, but still not her favorite part of the night. Before the cold can settle in, they all call it a midnight night. Tatum and Estella head out hand in hand. Y/N can’t wait for the details of that on Monday. Carmy is telling Harry a story, so Maeve uses the opportunity to remind Y/N to make a move.

“It’s now or never, girlfriend.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “please don’t pressure me on this.”

“Y/N that man is, head over heels for you. If I was antisocial this is not an event I would ever do. Unless someone I fancied asked.”

Y/N toes her food in the sand and, in a low voice, asks, “do you really think he likes me?”

Maeve smiles, brushing Y/N’s hair out of her eyes. “That man lit up every time your eyes were on him. I don’t know Harry as well as you do, but I can notice a guy with a crush from miles away. Trust me on this.”

Y/N backs down, relaxing, “okay.”

“Good. Now text me when you get home. Carmy’s got me.” Maeve gives her a tight hug and then pulls Carmy away from Harry.

He walks over to her with a shy smile on his face. “Have a good time?”

“The best,” she tells him. “Though I might need another apple cider. Think my heart needs it.”

“By all means, lead the way.”

After getting one last warm apple cider, they reach Harry’s car. It’s an electric car because he’s conscious of his environmental impact and knows one person can go a long way into the future. Harry opens Y/N’s car door and waits until he sees her seated and buckled to close her door. As he gets ready to drive off, he turns on the heater, knowing if he’s cold, Y/N must be too.

The car ride starts off quietly, Y/N guiding him every so often when to make a turn. Y/N sees her favorite coffee shop and knows she is almost home. “That was fun,” Harry starts. “I’m happy I went.”

“Mhmm…it was a good time. Glad you joined us,” she tells him honestly.

Harry notices at a red light that she’s fidgeting with her hands and thinks he might still be cold. “Do you need me to turn up the heater?”

Y/N shakes her head, “no, sorry, I’m fine.”

Harry drives down a few more streets when Y/N tells him to turn left. “It’s the third one on the right.”

He parks right outside her driveway. From here, he can see her decorations hung up. It’s decorated charmingly. It’s clear no scaring would happen here. She’s got two pumpkins outside her door. One has stars carved all around; the other is a cat on a witch’s broom. Bat lights are hanging up the railing of the steps. She even has a few inflatables. His favorite has to be the one of Mickey Mouse as a vampire.

“Thank you for driving me home. I appreciated it.” She smiles at him, and he returns it. Harry gets out of the car and opens her door.

“Let me walk you up.”

Y/N feels her cheeks burn and leads the way.

“We’re planning trivia soon,” Y/N says, testing the waters.

“Hmm…only if you’re on my team.”

“We would all be on the same team,” his flirting going over her head.

Harry’s face turns pink, “uh, right.”

She laughs, placing her hand on his bicep. “Only joking.”

Y/N pulls him in, whispering good night, except when she pulls away, she locks eyes with his emerald eyes, and it’s like she’s in a trance. She feels herself leaning in closer, and before she knows it, Y/N presses her lips to Harry in an airy kiss.

She pulls back, shocked. “Sorry,” she breathed out. “I-I should have asked.”

“Ask me,” he pleads.

“What?” Y/N isn’t sure if she heard him correctly.

Harry doesn’t care anymore. He raises his hand to rest on her cheeks. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?”

She feels how close he is. She can feel his breath mixing with hers. “Yes.”

When their lips meet, Y/N swears she feels time stop. Harry is starting slow as he begins to learn what she likes. Y/N places a hand on his chest, needing to have a secure hold as she feels him take her breath away. Her emotions are all over the place. His lips are smooth as they move against hers in a dance that feels like they’ve done a hundred times before. Harry deepens the kiss, pushing her up against the door, making Y/N grab a fistful of his shirt, not wanting him to pull away. Y/N lets herself get wrapped up in all her feelings because she knows that a kiss this special means it won’t be her only one, and she finally allows all her feelings to pour into the kiss.

Y/N isn’t sure how long they spent kissing outside her door. It seems she’s lost track of time since she got a taste of Harry. “I don’t want you to go,” she mutters against his lips when she feels him begin to pull away.

“I’ll see you Monday,” he promises.

“Too far.

Harry laughs, “you can call me tomorrow when you wake up.” Knowing she likes to sleep in, he would rather not wake her up.

“Okay,” she whispers in defeat.

“Good night,” Harry takes a step back.

Y/N bites her lip and gives him a wave. “Do you want a kiss goodbye?”

Harry can’t say no.

Monday morning, Y/N walks in with a large smile. It makes everyone stop and stare. She makes her rounds, wishing everyone a good morning, and saves Harry for last.

“Hi, Harry.” She chirps.

“Morning,” he answers timidly.

Y/N pouts because he didn’t even look at her. She wanted to see his beautiful eyes. “So I was thinking…” she trails off.

Harry turns, giving her his undivided attention, and Y/N’s smile widens. “How does a date sound to you?”

“A date?” He echoes.

“With me,” she giggles.

“Best thing I've heard all day.”

Y/N claps her hands together, “wonderful.”

“How does this weekend sound?”

“Too far,” she teases. “Saturday?”

“I’ll pick you up,” he promises.

“Good. Good.” Y/N lingers by his door.

“Yes, love?”

Y/N feels her cheeks heat up but doesn’t look away from him. “Are we still on for lunch?”

Harry gives her a dimpled grin, “I’ve got a new book for us to discuss.”

Y/N tells him she can’t wait and walks away. Harry watches her go, and as if she can feel his stare on her, she turns around and gives him a wink. Harry knows he’s way in over his head with someone as amazing as Y/N, but he can’t wait to prove each day to her how much he deserves to be with her.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles story #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry story #harry fic rec #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x y/n #harry styles halloween #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #fic rec #harry styles pleasing

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teenage dirtbag, baby! | luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: there is nothing more exhausting than being known as the picture perfect daughter of aphrodite… luckily, camp half-blood’s resident teenage dirtbag luke castellan can’t relate at all. fake dating him to piss off your siblings and mother could never go wrong, right? (based on 18 by anarbor)

wc: 6.5k

warnings: smoking, mentions of drinking, mentions of drugs, mentions of sex, implied sexual content, drew tanaka being a bitch, and kinda ooc luke bcs hes meant to be well … a teenage dirtbag.

a/n: its still valentine’s day for me sooo happy valentines 💌💗 !! in mexico valentine’s day is also known as the day of friendship so this one is dedicated to my favorite people ever: @emiliehornby @love-that-we-were-in and @kestisvrse <3 !! hope you enjoy it mwah !!

The sounds of campers laughing and gossiping in the dining pavilion are drowned out by your siblings and their annoyingly loud whispers about the allegedly cute (you’d beg to differ) son of Ares who joined camp less than twelve hours ago. Sure, he seemed like a nice guy even though he's a child of the god of war, but you were certain the only reason they kept bringing him up was because they wanted to set you up with him.

“And his arms, oh my gods! Have you seen them?” one of your brothers chimed in, trying to get you to agree with him, but all you could come up with was a hum and a polite smile.

It pissed you off a bit, the knowledge of you never being able to go against your siblings' wishes.. the fear of disappointing them and your mother being all-consuming and blinding you with fear.

There were times you’d think about it if you’re being honest. Times where you would let yourself dream of doing something so stupidly reckless for once. Something that would stop your siblings from walking all over you and treating you like their personal lapdog.

Not only was it tiring but it was also humiliating to a certain point. You were older than most of them and you were pretty sure you were the only one that took being a demigod seriously, even taking your time to strategize for Capture The Flag with Clarisse, and yet… you rejected Chiron when he asked you to be a counselor and told him to ask Silena instead.

And you loved your family—you really did, but it was getting exhausting. Always having to be perfect was draining you and you were afraid of the kind of person you’d become if you allowed this to keep going.

“He totally wants to ask you out,” Silena’s voice snapped you out of the daze you were trapped in. You turned your head to the right, facing your half-sister with a small frown on your face.

“You really think so?” you replied, trying your best to sound excited.

“Oh, I know so,” she answered before going on a whole rant about how cute you’d look with the newly claimed son of Ares. A son of Ares—that you badly wanted to remind her—had only been in camp for less than twelve hours and you knew nothing about.

You stayed in the dining pavilion with your siblings until you found the strength to tell them you were tired and wanted to go to sleep (an incredibly blatant lie but it didn’t look like they cared) and stood up, brushing the dust off your jeans.

“Wait, I’ll go with you!” Silena said with a smile, standing up and moving closer to you.

“You don’t have to. You can stay with them if you want to, really—“ you were cut off by your half-sister with an exasperated sigh.

“I want to go with you. Plus, I can walk back here once I drop you off at the cabin,” she stated with a playful roll of her eyes.

The two of you walked back to the Aphrodite cabin in a comfortable silence. You liked being with Silena, she was a few years younger than you but she carried herself with so much grace and love it was hard to feel uncomfortable or weird whenever you hung out with her.

You kept your gaze on the sky, noticing that the moon was out by now. “Hey,” Silena whispered, trying to get your attention.

“You okay?” you answered. Your mind was practically hardwired to always look after your siblings, so your brain was unwillingly making you think of the worst-case scenario.

“What? Yeah, I am okay,” Silena was quick to reassure you, “I just wanted to talk to you about—“

“I swear to all the gods, Silena. If this is about that camper..” you replied with a small sigh. The two of you stopped walking when you reached your cabin, deciding to continue the conversation outside.

“He’s not that bad! He is a nice guy and the two of you would look really cute together,” she insisted.

“You don’t even know him.”

“Ugh, fine. Good thing is there are other cute campers we can introduce you to. I met one of Charlie’s brothers a few weeks ago and I think he’d—“

“I can’t do this tonight,” you replied in an exhausted tone.

“Wow, okay. No need to be mean about it,” Silena muttered.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’ve been trying to help you find a boyfriend for months now and you always shut me down. It was fine at first but now you’re just being mean,” she explained.

“Mean? Silena, you said it yourself. I’ve always shut you down because I’m not interested in getting one.”

“Whatever,” she replied bitterly before turning around and walking back to the dining pavilion, leaving you alone outside of your cabin.

You stared at her back as she walked away, going through the last few minutes over and over in your head. Were you being mean? All you did was stick up for yourself. You didn’t understand why you were feeling bad for standing up against your siblings just for once.

A snort made you realize you weren’t alone. You turned your head towards the noise just to be met with.. oh.

Luke Castellan was leaning against the side of your cabin, carefully hidden under the darkness of the night and the shadows of the trees, he had a cigarette in his right hand and an obnoxious smirk adorning his even more obnoxious face.

“Hope you enjoyed the show, Castellan.”

Luke raised his hands as if he had been caught and blew the smoke away, “I’m on your side, she was being a fucking bitch.”

“Don’t call her that, she’s just a kid.”

Luke raised a brow before taking another drag of his cigarette, “Do not call your sister a bitch after seeing her.. be a bitch to you?” he shook his head. “Oh, princess, you need to work on getting rid of that altruism.”

“Do you even know what that word means?” you snapped, not being in the mood to indulge in whatever it was he wanted to talk about.

“Why? You want to teach me?” He said with a smirk.

“Don’t even start with your annoying stuff, Castellan,” you muttered, running a hand down your face, clearly overwhelmed with everything that had happened.

“Because you know you won’t want me to stop?” he pressed, but after a moment of silence his smirk fell and a frown took over his features.

“Uh.. you want to...” he trailed off and cleared his throat, “you want to talk about it or something?”

You squinted at him before eventually letting out a sigh and walking over to Luke, standing next to him with your back pressed against the wooden walls of your cabin. Luke extended his arm away from you to keep the smoke far from your face.

“So, um... Silena wants to set me up with that new camper,” you started.

“Fuck. The Ares one?” Luke interrupted.

“Castellan.”

“Right, sorry. Please continue, princess.”

You decided to ignore the insufferable pet name he gave you and continued, “The thing is I do want a boyfriend, just not… him.”

Luke hummed before bringing the cigarette to his lips again and inhaling the smoke in, he kept his mouth closed as he thought of something decent to say before slightly tilting his head away from you and blowing out the smoke upwards.

“Alright, and have you tried telling her to stop?” he cut himself off and shook his head. “Nope that was shitty advice, have you tried maybe describing your type or whatever it is you Aphrodite people say to describe the people you’re attracted to.”

“My type?” you replied, almost offended by the statement.

“Yeah?” Luke answered as if it was the most obvious thing to do, “Just describe the type of guys you’re into and I’m sure that cult of yours you like to call siblings will be happy to help…” he trailed off when he noticed your gaze set on his right hand and your bottom lip in between your teeth as he flicked the cigarette, causing the ashes to fall into the ground.

He looked up from his hand and burst out into laughter, shaking his head before whispering an amused fuck.

“Oh?” Luke said with a bright smile and raised brows, “You find this attractive, angel?”

“That thing is going to kill you,” you explained, “I’m not attracted to people that like to slowly kill themselves.”

“Fucking bummer. I wanted to see you take a drag, that would’ve been really hot,” he said, his smile not wavering. “Next thing you’re going to tell me is that you don’t drink, right?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Look at you, being such a good girl,” Luke teased before throwing the rest of his cigarette to the ground and stepping on it.

“Also, that thing you said about Silena being just a kid was really fucking stupid. She’s almost the same age as Annabeth and she doesn’t act like an asshole, I’m pretty sure your sweet little sister is just a bitch.”

Annabeth. You forgot that even though Luke is an annoyance most of the time and prefers to stick to himself.. he still has a soft spot for the twelve year old daughter of Athena. It was kind of endearing.

“Annabeth is a daughter of Athena, you can’t expect her to act—“

“You didn’t act like Silena when you were fourteen. You need to stop giving her excuses and allow yourself to get mad at her.”

“I’d rather have my siblings get mad at me and just stop perceiving me as this perfect and weak person, maybe once that happens they’ll stop trying to mess with my life,” you explained, your gaze set towards the ground.

Luke was about to open his mouth and try to come up with a funny one-liner to make you feel better, but he didn’t get to because you were quick to look up at him with a gasp and wide eyes.

“The fuck? Are you okay?”

“I need you.”

“Shit, angel. Most girls say that after a few dates but I’m not against the idea,” he said with an amused look in his eyes.

“Ew, no. I mean, I need to date you—fake date you.”

“I’m uh... not for sale?” Luke answered, clearly confused by the plan you were trying to explain.

“No, Castellan. Listen to me. My siblings despise you, I’m sure they’d set my bed on fire as a way of cleansing my soul from you if they find out we’re dating.”

Luke’s eyes got bright and his smile widened (if that was even possible), “Set your bed on fire? And what would we do in your bed for them to feel disgusted by its existence?”

“You’re disgusting. Anyway, if we fake date I’ll get to stop being perceived as their perfect sister and you’ll have bragging rights for dating an Aphrodite kid,” you said, moving your hands as you spoke.

“I’m pretty sure Drew started the rumors about me having lice and smuggling coke into camp, are you sure you want to fake date me of all people?” Luke asked carefully, trying to make you think about what was at stake. He didn’t give a shit about staining his already nonexistent reputation, but he couldn’t have you ruin yours.

“I am so sure, Castellan,” you reassured him.

“You know, for a good girl I’m extremely surprised you never say please.”

“Please, Castellan. Could you please be my fake boyfriend so I can finally stop being seen as my siblings' personal toy?” you said with a fake smile while bringing your hands together as an exaggerated way of begging Luke to say yes.

“You’re so cute when you beg. But you need to prove to me you’re serious about this fake dating thing. Meet me tomorrow at the bonfire, no bullshit.”

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

You had been on edge the entire day. Silena seemed to be past the argument, which made you feel better to an extent, but that didn’t seem to shake the uneasy feeling that settled in your gut because throughout the day you could feel someone staring at you. You could feel Luke staring at you.

You were walking past the sword fighting arena with Katie Gardner from the Demeter Cabin the first time it happened. The feeling of a pair of eyes completely set on you. You turned your head to the right just to be met with Luke’s exhausted figure, he was sweating and panting, but that didn’t stop him from running his eyes up and down your figure and smiling at you.

To say Katie was disgusted would be an understatement. A “Castellan is a dick, you should stay away from him,” was enough to stop you from staring at him and turning your head back to Katie. She went on to explain how Luke was a “real shitty person” and only hooked up with her as a way of getting her to grow weed in the back of the stables.

It happened around eight times in the last two hours (not that you were counting) and it only got worse when the moon came up and everyone was making their way to the bonfire. You were walking next to Michael Yew when you felt a hand on your lower back.

Luke’s hand on your lower back, to be exact. He left it there as he walked past you, only turning his head back to say “It’s adorable to see you together, are you two a couple?”

You had to hold yourself back from strangling him when you heard his irritating laugh after he saw Michael’s reaction to his statement. Michael tried his best to be polite and tell him he was wrong, that there was nothing going on between the two of you.

But his reply only seemed to fuel Luke’s actions even more because all he did was answer with a cocky “Oh, I know. Our princess here is only into... what was it? People that like to slowly kill themselves with cigarettes?” before walking away.

You were going to kill him.

Michael left your side as soon as you arrived, moving to sit with his siblings from the Apollo Cabin… leaving you with two choices: sitting with your siblings or sitting next to Luke (who for some reason always sat alone and spent the entire time listening to the music coming from the MP3 player he somehow managed to get into camp).

So this is what Luke meant, you thought. This was the only way you could prove to him and everyone that you were serious about dating him—fake dating him—but it's not like they would ever know the truth.

You dragged your feet as you walked towards Luke, clearly having second thoughts about your plan, but there was no turning back now. You tried to ignore the confused look Drew was giving you and the gasps you could hear coming from your siblings.

“I’m pretty sure Drew started the rumors about me having lice and smuggling coke into camp, are you sure you want to fake date me of all people?” You weren't so sure anymore but that didn’t stop you from taking a seat next to Luke Castellan, who took one of his earphones off and looked at you with a smile.

“Happy now? I just proved how serious I am about this,” you whispered to him, trying your best to not let anyone hear you.

Luke nodded before saying, “You could’ve done better, but I’ll take it.”

“Done better? I just sat next to you in front of the entire camp, isn’t this good enough for you?” you asked, indignation evident in your tone.

“Promise not to beat me up?” Luke said before pulling your arm and manhandling your body so you were on top of him, sitting on his lap. He placed his hands on your hips and looked up at you with stars in his eyes.

“Wow, Castellan. How scandalous, I’m sitting on your lap,” you deadpanned.

He chuckled, bringing you closer to him and pressing his lips against yours. Luke’s hands felt like fire against your skin, all you could feel was a heat taking all over your body as he continued to kiss you, only pulling away to catch his breath before bringing you in for another one, this time he kissed you deeper and faster.

Luke dragged you closer to him by pressing your hips against his and all you could do was melt into him and the feeling of his lips against yours. In the distance, you could hear gasps and people gagging, and you were pretty sure the campers from the Ares Cabin were cheering and whistling, but all your thoughts were on Luke Castellan and how good of a kisser he is.

You pulled away first this time, trying to steady your breathing as you looked into his eyes. He licked his lips before whispering “We should go.”

Your eyes widened as soon as he said that, the implications of what the sentence meant making you feel nervous. Luke was quick to reassure you, “If we leave, your siblings will be even more outraged. We don’t have to do anything, but they’ll think we are doing…some stuff. Just come to the woods with me for a little while.”

You nodded and grabbed his hand as he guided you through the woods. You could hear Silena calling out your name and warning you about the consequences of your actions, but her voice was drowned out by the loud cheers coming from Clarisse.

Once the two of you were far enough from the rest of the campers, Luke let go of your hand and sat down by the lake, nodding his head as a way of asking you to join him.

You sat in silence for a few minutes until Luke spoke first. “How long do you think we should keep this thing up?”

“Valentina and Drew will want us to be over by tonight,” you said with a smile, a laugh escaping your lips. You didn’t notice how Luke’s eyes got brighter when he heard your laugh or how the melody that came out of your lips went straight through his heart and made him feel more alive.

“But I think a week should be enough. We can say we’ve been secretly dating for like... five months? That way it won’t be weird if we break up in a week,” you explained while your fingers played with your camp necklace.

Luke nodded before going silent again, staring at the lake with a look you couldn’t quite comprehend. Your gaze was set on him, your eyes traveling from his toned arms, all the way to the scar that sat right below his right eye.

“I know it’s awful, I can feel you staring at it,” he murmured. You could physically feel your heart sinking when he said it. You cleared your throat, “No, I… I think it’s beautiful. I think you’re—” Luke turned his head to face you, an inquisitive look in his eyes. “I think you’re really brave, Luke.”

“Beautiful?” Luke asked, confusion written all over his face. “You should hear what your siblings say about it, then. I’m sure your opinion would change in a second.”

“Being an Aphrodite kid means you see beauty everywhere,” you explained, “And I think your scar must be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Luke stared at you with an unreadable expression, making your heart almost beat out of your chest.

“Are you flirting with me, angel?”

“Of course, you’d ruin the moment. Screw you, man.” You rolled your eyes.

Luke threw his head back in a fit of laughter, it made you want to strangle him… again. “Did you just say screw you? Gods, princess, saying fuck won’t kill you.”

“I don’t like to curse, thank you for pointing it out, Castellan,” you said, playfully shoving him, making him fake a gasp.

“You went from trying to seduce me to trying to kill me, you’re so interesting, angel,” he said before letting out a sigh. “It, uh… It was really hard at first, getting used to the scar.”

“Having people call it all sorts of names, and looking at me with nothing but pity in their eyes was not easy to get used to. But after some time you just… stop caring. I mean, I’m not that big of an asshole to hold a grudge over a fucking scar, it even looks sick. But yeah, when it gets hard again all I can do is snort a line and move on.

“The coke smuggling was real?” you gasped, only focusing on the last sentence he said. Luke tried to keep a straight face but his facade fell the moment he noticed your wide eyes. Luke Castellan has the type of laugh that makes everything get fuzzy and makes you feel lightheaded, and all you wanted to do was to come up with bad jokes just for the sole reason of hearing him do it again.

“Fuck, you really believe anything, huh?”

“Shut up, Castellan. I’ll literally stab you and let you slowly bleed to death,” you threatened, standing up from your place next to him. Luke followed you as you walked back to the cabins.

“You do know I’m the best swordsman in the last 300 years, right? Do you even know how to wield a sword?” he asked, matching your pace and walking next to you.

“Low blow, just because I don’t like to indulge in violence it doesn’t mean I don’t know how to wield a sword,” you retorted.

Luke snorted a laugh, “You don’t know, do you?”

“No, I don’t. Will you shut up now?”

“I only will if you accept to let me teach you how to fight tomorrow,” Luke said with a tilt to his head. He didn’t even give you a chance to answer because he walked away from you while saying a loud “Meet me tomorrow morning in the sword fighting arena.”

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

You were sure you were seconds away from passing out. It's been around two hours of sparring with Luke and your arms and legs were about to give out. The sun was starting to come out, which meant this torture was nearly over. At least that’s what Luke promised. “We’ll stop as soon as the other campers wake up, that way you won’t have to be embarrassed if they see your… skills.”

The two of you circled each other, your swords were raised and Luke’s blade was pointing straight at you. Luke took a second to study your stance before lunging forward, his sword meeting yours as you quickly blocked his attack. “Not too bad, huh?” Luke teased before trying to get another hit, his moves becoming more calculated the longer you kept blocking his advances. Proving he wasn’t called the best swordsman at camp for nothing.

With a disarming maneuver you weren’t aware of, Luke was quick to throw your sword to the ground and have you stumbling back, not being able to regain your footing. Luke gave you a smirk when your body hit the ground with a small thud, “That was easy,” he said, “We should do this more often.”

“Nope, this is a one-time thing, Castellan,” Luke rolled his eyes before bringing the blade of his sword closer to you, reaching for your chin with a glint in his eyes. The blade met your chin and Luke lifted it, making you meet his gaze as he slowly made you stand up by raising his sword even higher.

The two of you stood still, staring intently into each other’s eyes until you heard it—the sound of the Ares Cabin making their way to the arena. Luke let out a surprised shit, dropped his sword to the ground, and walked closer to you, cupping your jaw with his right hand and kissing you.

Your lips met in a hurried collision, causing the same fire from yesterday to set in your stomach. Your hands moved to Luke’s hair, softly pulling it as the kiss got heated. You knew this was fake, you knew this kiss meant nothing to him… but you didn’t want him to stop. “Holy fuck, are you two always sucking each other’s faces?” Clarisse’s voice cut through the moment, causing you to pull away from Luke, unable to meet his gaze.

“Yeah, that’s what being in a relationship entails. I don’t think you’d know much about it, La Rue,” Luke breathes out.

“Don’t you have weed to sell or a cheap bottle of vodka to down, Castellan?”

“Aw, you know me so well,” Luke answered before picking up both of your swords and grabbing your hand, walking away from the arena.

The following days were (and you hated to admit it) filled with the most fun you’ve ever had. Luke would come up with some insane idea for a fake date and it would always end with one of you lying about seeing a camper or hearing Silena’s voice as an excuse to make out with each other.

There was this one time the two of you were having a picnic by the strawberry fields and the day ended with the two of you hiding in the empty forge while making out, running your hands over each other’s bodies, and doing the normal stuff fake couples always do… it all happened because Luke swore he heard Valentina’s voice near the fields. (You were sure Valentina had been on the stables that entire day because she had cleaning duty, but why wouldn’t you play along with something you also wanted to do?)

It was Sunday–the last day of your fake relationship–when Silena finally found the guts to talk to you about Luke. You even felt slightly bad for the girl because she was so nervous when she sat next to you in the dining pavilion.

“I..um... I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” she began, “Well, there are lots of things for me to apologize for, but I think it’s pretty obvious what the main problem is.”

“The way I’ve been treating you is not okay and I’m really ashamed of it. You shouldn’t have to feel pressured to be the person we want you to be, I used to see you as someone who couldn’t do things on her own and always needed someone to push her and help her handle everything… and now I see I was wrong,” Silena explained, running a hand through her hair.

“It’s fine, Silena. I don’t mind.”

“Well, I do. You’re strong and more than capable of doing things on your own, and you don’t need me to try and help you or fix you.” She took a deep breath. “I didn't know you were dating Luke, and to be honest I didn’t even know he was your type. He is so… weird and I never would’ve guessed you were dating. I mean, Drew told me he does cocaine and—”

“He doesn’t,” you interrupted.

Silena raised a brow before continuing, “Anyway, I’m sorry if I ever made you feel bad for just... existing. And you always look so happy after hanging out with Luke, I truly hope the two of you stay together for a long time.”

You didn’t even know how to explain the situation so you just blurted out “I broke up with him.”

Silena looked shocked for a few seconds before letting out a deep breath, “Oh, thank the gods. Just because we trust you it doesn’t mean we trust him,” she spat the him with so much disgust it made you feel sick. “You deserve so much better.”

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

This is probably the first time you have ever felt ill at the thought of seeing Luke. Sure, you used to be annoyed by his presence before the whole fake dating situation even started, but at least you were a strange type of friends back then. Not really close but also not complete strangers. There were times you’d catch him hiding his secret stash of weed behind the stables and didn’t tell anyone, and he’d always pay you back by lying to Chiron about you practicing your sword skills with him. (You had only used a sword once and it was years ago when you were still a new camper, you had no idea why Chiron would ever believe him.)

Luke was sitting in his usual spot by the lake, a cigarette in his hand. It had become a tradition for the two of you to always meet up by the lake before curfew to talk about your day and practice your kissing so it wouldn’t look fake.

“Hey,” you said, taking a seat next to him. Luke threw his cigarette to the ground, stepped on it, and almost instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist, kissing your temple. “Blink-182?” you asked, nodding at the MP3 he had on his lap.

“The Smashing Pumpkins,” Luke answered, taking his earphones off. “Mellon Collie And The Infinite Sadness is one of the best albums ever made.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’ll take your word for it,” you said. Luke smiled and poked your side.

“So, there’s something I need to talk to you about,” you began, but Luke held up his hand as a way to get you to stop.

“Can I say something first?” he asked, looking shy for probably the first time since the day you met him.

You nodded and let him take the lead of the conversation. “Alright, so… I’m kind of shit with words so I’m sorry if this doesn’t make any sense but this past week has probably been the best week of my life. And I’m not even fucking around, I don’t have many friends–apart from Annabeth, and getting to be with you is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Being your friend is the greatest gift the gods have ever given me, and sometimes I feel like I don’t even deserve it. I’m a mess of a person, and you’re well… you’re you,” Luke stared deeply into your eyes, “And I just wanted to let you know that—”

Luke didn’t get to finish his sentence because this time it was you who cut him off with a kiss. You could taste the cigarette on his lips as he brought you closer to him, running a hand down your back and deepening the kiss before pulling away and moving to kiss your neck.

Luke began to trail kisses down your throat and only stopped to whisper a low “Look at you, what would Aphrodite say? I’m sure she’d be proud.”

Aphrodite.

You pushed him away the moment you remembered your mother. “Silena apologized. We can stop pretending now.”

Luke was silent and just stared at you, his fingers moving to fidget with the wire of his earphones. “Oh, right,” he cleared his throat. “It’s Sunday, I forgot.”

You knew he didn’t.

“Yup, so we can go back to normal now,” you said, looking away from his eyes because you knew it would only take one look into them for you to kiss him again.

“Good,” Luke stood up, not daring to even shoot you a glance, and walked away. Leaving you alone by the lake with the lingering smell of his cheap stolen cologne mixed with the cigarette he was smoking.

It didn’t help that you were welcomed into your cabin with hugs and your siblings congratulating you for breaking up with the son of Hermes. Sure, you weren’t the perfect sister anymore because you dated Luke Friendless-Freak Castellan, but knowing they liked you just because you were with him and then broke his heart made you want to set the cabin on fire.

The main rule of the Aphrodite Cabin was something your siblings were extremely proud of, but the thought of its existence made you want to storm into Mount Olympus by yourself and yell at your mother for putting all these useless ideas into their heads.

For a child of Aphrodite to prove themselves, they must make someone fall in love with them and then break that someone's heart.

Is it possible for the rule to backfire? For the child of Aphrodite to accidentally fall in love with someone and then break their own heart because of it? You didn’t even know if that was an option, but you were sure that’s exactly what you were going through right now.

It was hard for you to go to sleep that night because your mind kept replaying the past week on a loop. Your conversation with Luke by your cabin. The night of the bonfire. The conversation by the lake about his scar. Sparring with him. Going on a million fake dates. The night on the forge. Your last conversation with him.

“Look at you, what would Aphrodite say? I’m sure she’d be proud.”

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

You could feel Luke staring at you. Again.

You were helping Annabeth strategize for Capture The Flag, because she had the brilliant idea to have the Athena cabin team up with Hermes and Aphrodite. You didn’t know much about fighting and spent most of the time sitting with your sisters during the game, but that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy helping them come up with new plans.

Once the three of you were done, Annabeth excused herself with an awkward “I think Malcolm wanted me to help him go through some maps. You two have fun… chatting!” and left as fast as she could, leaving you alone with Luke.

You watched her leave the amphitheater and turned around to face Luke, “I can see why you like her. She’s so much like you.”

“Yeah, she’s like my little sister.”

The silence was so uncomfortable you almost broke down crying. You nodded and turned around, not being strong enough to face him, and walked away. You could hear him behind you, following you.

“Can we talk?” he pleaded.

You were about to open your mouth when Drew’s voice made you turn your head. “Gods, Castellan. It’s so embarrassing to still be hung up on your ex.”

Luke sighed, “Hello to you too, Tanaka.”

“Can you leave her alone? She doesn’t want to talk to you,” Drew said through a fake smile.

“Oh, really? Did she tell you that?” Luke answered, tilting his head as he spoke and making eye contact with you. Wordlessly begging you to please talk to him.

You stayed silent and looked away from him. Luke let out an incredulous laugh before nodding his head. “Good to know you’re back to being their little pet.”

Drew rolled her eyes and walked away, shoving Luke as she walked past him. “So? You’re just not going to say anything?” Luke said.

“What do you want me to say, Castellan?”

“Tell me that last week didn’t mean anything to you,” Luke answered, his voice trembling.

“Why do you care? I thought I was nothing but Drew’s little pet,” you replied, trying your best to not look weak in front of him.

Luke ran a hand through his hair and stepped closer to you, “I’m sure you’re thinking the exact same thing about yourself.”

You hated that he was right.

The truth made your blood boil. “I don’t want any of your shit,” Luke let out a genuine laugh this time, a mocking look in his eyes. “Oh, so now she can curse?”

You hated him for seeing the real you. You hated him for knowing the truth. You hated yourself for loving him.

“Fuck you, Castellan,” Luke hummed before stepping even closer to you and placing a hand on your waist, leaning to whisper in your ear. “I’m sure you’d love to do that again, right?” Luke’s smell was taking all over your senses and making your knees go weak. He continued, “Because even if we do it in the darkness of the Forge… it is still two friends fake dating because your mother might be watching.”

You found the strength to press your hands against his chest and push him away, “Don’t talk to me ever again.”

You spent the rest of the day with your siblings and friends, too afraid to leave their side because you didn’t trust yourself. Because you knew that if you were left alone for a second—you’d run straight to him.

You sat next to Silena in the dining pavilion. Helped Katie and the Dyonisus cabin grow more strawberries by keeping them company. Walked with Michael to the bonfire, and stayed with Drew throughout the entire singalong.

As always, Luke was sitting by himself, his MP3 player in his hand and his eyes were set on you.

You walked back to your cabin when the singalong was over and helped your siblings get ready for bed. You were about to go to sleep when Valentina whispered your name, saying she had something for you.

“We found it last night under your bed, Drew wanted to give it to the harpies but I managed to take it away from her,” a frown made its way to your face.”What do you mean?”

“We found this,” She pulled out a badly wrapped gift from under her pillows. You were confused until she told you to open it.

It was a bright pink MP3 player.

“Oh,” you whispered, your hands shook as you stared at it. “I’ve got to—”

“It’s okay,” Valentina whispered. “He’s probably by the lake.”

You gave your half-sister a hug before running out of your cabin, and making your way to the lake. You could see Luke’s silhouette in the distance, and the sight only made you run faster.

You took a moment to catch your breath before saying, “The Smashing Pumpkins?”

Luke turned around at the sound of your voice. “Blink-182” he answered with a small smirk.

“Uh, of course,” you said as you walked closer to him. “Alright, listen. You were right.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you continued with a smile. “So, it turns out I may or may not be in love with this certain guy, and he may or may not be my type or whatever it is my siblings say.”

Luke took a step closer to you. “There’s a chance this guy thinks I’m going through a phase and only fake dated him to piss off my siblings and mother but the truth is… I don’t even care about them whenever I’m with him.”

His hand moved to caress your cheek, “That’s cute and all but how does this guy know you truly mean that?”

“I’m not going to make out with him at the bonfire, so I guess all he needs to do is believe me,” you whispered, your eyes moving from Luke’s eyes to his lips.

Luke smiled before answering, “Believe you? That’s alright with me,” and pressing his lips to yours.

Luke was right. Aphrodite would be proud.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan #percy jackson and the olympians #magnolia’s fics!

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milkteahood · 30 days

Text

unmasked

Thomas Hewitt x fem!reader

Warning: smut! minors dni!!!

Summary: more smut. But with a plot. This wasn't supposed to be a smut, but of course it is. Because that's just how I am as a person.

Living with the Hewitt family wasn’t always easy, but it sure had its nice parts, and the nicest part was Thomas. Oh yes, the reason you were still alive today was simply being a decent person to Thomas. Which slowly progressed to more, finding yourself in this limbo of having a huge crush on him, while he was still keeping you at arm’s length.

It was very strange to fall in love with a man whose face you never saw. Yet here you were, catching yourself staring at him again. Even though he warmed up to you, Thomas was still caught off guard whenever he saw you staring, so you tried to do your best to avoid him seeing you. That of course didn’t always work and today was one of those days.

A couple of seconds passed before you realized he was looking back at you.

“O-oh! Sorry” you said, smiling at him.

He’s been around you long enough to know you weren’t being malicious, but he still didn’t know what to make of it, so he just nodded and turned back to what he was doing.

You mentally cursed yourself for making him feel awkward, not that you could’ve helped it. Your heart ached whenever he walked into the room, yet the fear of being rejected was enough to put you back in place.

I can’t just keep living like this you thought to yourself once you resumed to cleaning the potatoes Luda Mae told you to.

Be thankful you’re even alive.

***

At supper you tried your best to keep your eyes off of Thomas, only making small conversation here and there. He would listen, and nod, occasionally tilting his head to the side. Each time, making your heart skip a beat and your cheeks turn red. You blamed it on the weather and the soup.

After supper, you helped Luda Mae with cleaning the table.

“You know sweetheart, my Tommy might be naive, but I am not” she said.

“What do you mean?” you asked, trying to play dumb.

“Oh hush girl. I can see how red you get when you look at my Tommy. And I can tell he feels a certain way about you too”

You were so thankful she was old, because otherwise it would’ve been impossible not to hear your heart beat out of your chest.

“Just don’t break his heart”

“No. Never!” you protested before you realized what you just admitted to.

Luda Mae just smiled at you “you’re a very sweet girl. Go on now. I will finish here”.

And with that, you were rushing out to see what Thomas was up to.

You found him sitting on the staircase in front of the house.

“Hey Thomas!” you said, sitting down next to him.

He nodded to you, eyes softening at your sight.

“Did you have a good day?” you asked, earning yourself another nod. Thomas didn’t talk, but you did not mind. You’ve been around long enough to understand him.

“I can tell he feels a certain way about you too”. Luda Mae’s words echoed in your head, making you blush. Thomas tilted his head and pointed at your now very flushed cheek.

“I’m ok!” you tried to keep your cool “it’s just really hot still outside” you continued smiling. He seemed to take that.

“And since it’s so hot… say Thomas. Would you want to go hang out by the pond? I’m done with my chores”.

He just smiled at you from behind his mask and nodded his head.

***

“Oh come on Tommy! The water is amazing” you said, dress all wet because you didn’t care to take anything off.

Thomas tried to avoid your gaze, simply because his mama raised him better, and your dress became pretty see-through.

“Tommy? Are you alright?” you started to approach him.

Thomas lifted his hand, pointing at your dress. It took you a little to realize what he was trying to say, but once you looked down, a blush crept on your face. “Oh goodness”.

After he sighed, he took off his apron and handed it to you. You were swimming in it, and it was enough to cover yourself.

You knew Thomas wasn’t going to swim, he always preferred to hang out at the shore.

“It’s fine now Thomas” you chucked when he finally turned to face you. Both of you lay down on the grass, with you turning towards him. He was looking up at the sky, not seeming to notice you were looking at him.

“This is nice”

He glanced at you and grunted. This one meant yes.

“Isn’t it hard to always wear that mask Tommy? It’s so hot today”

He didn’t answer. But you could see him clenching his fists.

“I-I mean”

He turned his head to you, frowning.

“Sorry” you said and turned on your back. He turned away from you too.

“I just” just shut up. Don’t say it. Just don’t.

You looked at him. He was looking away.

With a sigh you decided that now was the moment.

“Whatever’s underneath that mask… it won’t change how I feel about you” you almost whispered the last part, but it was enough for him to hear.

Thomas turned his head towards you, eyes widen, looking confused and a little scared.

You just smiled and placed your hand over his. He tensed, but not for long.

“Even mama noticed” you said with a chuckle.

He looked at you for a while, and you were staring to get worried that you said something wrong, until he stood up, just enough to undo his leather mask. Yet he didn’t take it off, and he was no longer looking at you.

“Tommy?”

He didn’t respond, and while he was holding his mask up with one hand and his other was clenched in a fist, you were worried you might’ve upset him by pushing him into this.

“Thomas. It’s alright” you said, taking his hand in both yours “you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to”.

When his eyes finally met yours, you could clearly see the pain in them, and something else. You could see a little bit of hope.

He sighed and finally let go of his mask. He was looking down, completely avoiding your gaze. You could swear his eyes almost popped out of his head when you cupped his face, got on his lap, smiled and called him handsome. His whole body tensed up at your words, almost not wanting to believe you.

“You’re so beautiful Thomas Hewitt” you repeated yourself, this time with an even bigger smile.

Meanwhile, Thomas was completely frozen. Were you making fun of him? But you looked so genuine. How could you be? Did it really matter? No. Not when your touch was so soft and you were smiling at him like that.

He finally snapped out of his trance when you kissed him.

He didn’t know what to do, but it didn’t take long for him to start kissing you back. It was inexperienced and needy and full of buildup emotions on both sides. His hands shyly rested on your waist, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, hands tugging at his hair as the kiss got more and more intense.

He started feeling your back up and down, while you pressed against him harder, earning yourself a moan when you brushed yourself against the bulge in his pants.

Both of you pulled away and just looked at the other for a while. Then, with a confidence you didn’t think you’d see with him, he pulled you into another kiss, holding the back of your head.

He worked on your clothes while you worked on his, neither wanting to break the kiss more than you needed to.

He then flipped you over and once he was on top, he stopped again, just looking and admiring you. Your hands exploded his chest while you kissed his neck, turning him into a moaning mess. He was intoxicated by your every touch.

Feeling his erection against your inner thigh made you moan.

“You can do whatever you want to me Tommy” you said while wrapping your arms around his neck.

He just whimpered, nuzzling your neck.

“It’s alright Thomas, I want you” you said gently stroking his hair.

He nodded against your neck before kissing you again.

You helped him adjust himself and before you knew it, he was sliding inside, both of you moaning into the other’s mouth.

The pace started slow, Thomas was holding your waist with one hand and using the other to support himself.

“Oh fuck… just like that” you moaned, nails digging into his back now.

The more you moaned, the more he slammed harder and faster into you. His face was buried in your hair, taking in your scent which was slowly driving him off the edge.

He was hitting all the right places, slamming into you so hard you knew you would have trouble walking afterward.

You knew he was getting closer because his pace became more and more erratic.

“Oh fuck Tommy, cum with me, please please cum with me”.

That was enough to drive him over the edge and with a few more deep thrusts he came, making your eyes roll back while you chased your own high.

Both of you stayed like that for a while, neither wanting to move. Thomas made sure not to let his entire weight over you, while you ran your fingers through his hair and planted kisses on his forehead.

“I love you Tommy”.

His eyes widened, and he looked like he just saw a ghost. The sight was endearing and it caused you to chuckle.

“I really do” you continued.

His lower lip twitched, and he immediately squeezed you close to him, making you smile even more. You knew he felt the same. There was no need for him to say anything.

***

The sky was full of stars as you made your way back to the house. Slowly, making sure not to disturb anyone, you made your way towards Tommy’s room. You gave him another kiss in the doorway before waking in, and finally getting to sleep in the arms of your now lover.

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt image #thomas hewitt x reader smut #thomas hewitt smut #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt fanfic #slashers x y/n #slashers x you #slasher x you #slashers smut #slashers x reader #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #slasher smut #slashers fanfiction

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aphroditelovesu · 3 months

Text

Yan!Husband Henry VIII Headcanons (Romantic)

❝ 👑 — lady l: This has been in my draft for a while but I decided to finish it now lol. Hope you like it! Forgive me for any mistakes. ❤️🧡

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, toxic relationship, mention of death perhaps.

❝👑pairing: yandere!henry viii x female!reader.

You had already dreamed of marrying a King, of becoming his Queen and giving birth to his heirs, a romantic fantasy that you and many other young women have dreamed of. They were mere fantasies of romance that you made up, but never really thought it would happen or become the obsession of one of the most infamous Kings in the history of England.

Your dreams remained as they were, dreams of a young lady. The King of the country where you lived was already married, so there wasn't much chance of you marrying him. Your family was of noble enough origin and had considerable wealth, but nothing too extravagant.

Until your older sister's marriage to a powerful man, close to the King. With that, your family immediately moved to the English Court, excited about their new status. Your father was particularly eager to marry you off to a powerful man as well.

Henry was dissatisfied with his wife, Anne, she had failed to conceive the much-desired male heir he so desperately wanted. His wandering eyes began to wander to the young women of the Court and when he laid eyes on you, he knew you would be the one to give him what he wanted.

Henry's captivating gazes seemed to follow you wherever you went and it began to unnerve you. A hint of excitement perhaps, but you knew it was a dangerous game to get involved with the King, especially when he was married.

Your parents were immensely happy with the King's interest in you. If you became his mistress, it would bring benefits and riches to your family. And when Henry got tired of you, you could perhaps marry a man with a noble title. Maybe a Duke or a Marquis.

But you didn't want to be his mistress or anyone's mistress. You wanted a husband and not a mere toy that he could always discard later. Your resistance angered your parents but attracted Henry even more. Your rejecting him has stirred him up, and bewitched him even more. Whenever you were in a room, Henry's eyes would be on you.

All of Henry’s attention was on you and you would be lying if you said you didn’t like it. He didn't even try to hide his affection for you, he sent you gifts and letters constantly. You reciprocated, sending him letters in return, but always remaining firm in your convictions.

Before long, Henry was deeply in love with you and quickly got rid off his current wife, Anne. When he asked you to marry him, shortly after his separation from Anne, you hesitated but accepted. You would finally become his and his alone.

Once you were married, Henry became more possessive than ever. He already didn't like the looks other gentlemen gave you, but now that you were officially his, it would be considered a crime of treason. And we know how he deals with betrayal.

You were his perfect Queen, so sweet and so, well, perfect. Henry makes a point of reminding you of that every day, about how perfect you were for him. He really was in love, so he kept on your side the whole time. His eyes remained only on you.

Henry truly values you and your opinion. It is not a custom, but he would be willing to listen to your wishes and political opinions (if you have any) on matters of state. You are his Queen, after all. If it was your wish, if you were Catholic, Henry could even try to restore Catholicism in England.

He really loved you, maybe not in the conventional way, but he did. Henry would listen to your wishes, fulfill them and all he wants in return is his love. He will not tolerate people speaking ill of you and will condemn anyone who does so for treason.

Henry would be loyal to you, he would take care of you until your death. He wants to have children with you, a family, a male heir, but he also wants to be with you. He could be himself and not the King of England.

And when you finally gave him his long-awaited male heir, Henry knew he would never let you go or let anything happen to you. After all, you are his wife and his Queen. And Henry doesn't handle treason very well.

#yandere history #yandere historical characters #history #the tudors #yandere the tudors #yandere henry viii #yandere Henry VIII x reader #yandere henry viii headcanons #henry viii x reader #headcanons #yandere headcanons

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marvelsmylife · 2 months

Text

Not As It Seems

Pairing: Rhysand x reader

Plot: to outsiders they see your life is perfect. Being mated to one of the most powerful high lords and named high lady of the night court everyone thought you were happy (including your mate). What happens when the mask you’ve been wearing finally falls and Rhysand discovers what’s been troubling his darling mate.

a/n This is based on this request. Let me know if you want a part two where Rhysand confronts the person responsible for his mate's suffering.

ACOTAR Masterlist

Prompt List

If someone had told you when you were younger that you would be mated with the high lord of the night court and given the title of high lady you would’ve laughed in their faces. Yet here you were, living every female’s (and some males) dream of being mated to Rhysand.

You met Rhysand one cold autumn morning. You had arrived at your job two hours ago at your bakery when Rhysand strolled in and requested one of every pastry you had for sale. You gave him a puzzled look and asked if he was sure: “Of course I’m sure. I could smell your delicious pastries a few blocks away,” Rhysand responded with a warm smile on his face.

A shy smile crept up on your face at Rhysand’s compliment. While you were used to everyone always complimenting you on your pastries, having your high lord compliment you made you go shy. “I’m flattered,” you sheepishly said while carefully placing the treats in the box.

A surprising look appeared on Rhysand’s face when took the box from your hands and took in your appearance. Mate Rhysand mentally told himself when he realized you were the female he had been dreaming about for as long as he could remember.

Not wanting to scare you off, Rhysand settled with simply asking you out to dinner before slowly revealing that you were mates.

He was grateful he did that. You built your relationship organically, and when he finally confessed that you were mates, instead of resenting him for hiding such a secret, you kissed him and told him how happy you were that you were mates.

There was only one problem in your relationship, you rarely talked about your family and what you were like growing up. Every time he tried to pry into your past or family, you would always charge the subject or ask him to drop it. He was tempted sometimes to slither into your mind and see what was so bad about your childhood that you refused to talk to him about.

He didn’t though.

He knew you would resent him if he invaded your privacy in that way just to get an answer. Instead, he’d change the subject to something more pleasant.

It’s not that you didn’t want to tell Rhysand about your childhood. To people who didn’t know you personally, they thought you had a great childhood. But the people who truly knew you knew that was the farthest thing from the truth.

While you were still in contact with your mother, your relationship with her was complicated, to say the least. Growing up, your mother would display all the signs of a narcissistic parent. Always finding a way to make your accomplishments hers and insult you when you did something minutely wrong.

It got worse when you were an adult and opened the bakery you still operated. She didn’t ask; she demanded that you give her half of your earnings from the bakery to make up for raising you. You foolishly agreed to her demand even though you were barely making enough to support yourself when you met Rhysand.

Once you had your mating ceremony, Rhysand would beg you to stop working because he had more than enough and then some to support you, but you rejected him each time. You didn’t want to put the burden of supporting your mother on Rhysand, so you told him you just loved your work too much to close it.

Because you were under so much stress with not only running your bakery by yourself but also doing the duties a high lady is supposed to do, you found yourself stretching yourself thin. You couldn’t find a moment in your day to just sit and relax, and when you did, it was only for a few minutes.

Unfortunately, that manifested into you not wanting to do anything during the days you actually managed to get off and started developing depression episodes.

You didn’t want anyone to know you were silently suffering, especially Rhysand’s. He had so much on his plate, and you didn’t want to add to his worries. So you’d force a smile so no one would know; know that you were silently fighting with your mother because she was growing more entitled to your money. Your mental shield was always up and so guarded; not even Rhysand could penetrate it.

You finally hit your breaking point one afternoon when your mother stopped by your bakery and demanded that you tell Rhysand he needed to start paying her money as well. In her words: “His money is your money, and your money is my money.”

Not being able to contain your anger towards your mother, you unleash all the frustration you have had towards her for the past three centuries. By the end of it, your mother dared to slap you across the face and growled: “You ungrateful child! You would have nothing if it wasn’t for me! I should have been Rhysand’s mate so I could have that fortune you have, not you. But seeing as you are his mate, I’m expecting you to give me his money by the end of the week,” before storming out of the bakery and disappearing into the streets of Velaris.

You didn’t know how you managed to get home, but when you did, you had the inner circle panicked with the state you were in. “Y/n. Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Mor asked, worry laced in her tone: “Azriel, Cassian, go get Rhysand he’s-”.

Azriel and Cassian were out the door before Mor had a chance to finish her sentence.

Mor and Amren meanwhile tried to get you to sit down with them, but you just brushed them off and disappeared into your bedroom. You knew they meant well, but you wanted to lock yourself in your room.

Not even five minutes later, Rhysand burst through your shared bedroom. Rhysand knelt down and cupped your face: “My darling y/n, please tell me what’s wrong? Tell me so I can help you,” there was a sense of panic in his voice.

“I’m tired Rhysand” you replied blandly. Rhysand remained silent as the other stormed into the room and watched the scene in front of them: “I’m so fucking tired of pretending I’m ok.”

@paankhaleyaar @amara-moonlight @favsrachz

#rhysand imagine #rhysand x reader #acotar imagine #acotar x reader

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chahnniesroom · 4 months

Text

in sickness and in health

pairing: kim seungmin x female reader

summary: you're the most important thing in seungmin's life, of course his biggest fear would be losing you. it means that taking care of you when you're not feeling well comes naturally.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: a little bit of angst, sickness (fever, feeling nauseous, etc.)

a/n: partially inspired by me being ill at work and my amazing coworkers taking care of me and making sure i didn't faint lol.

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

Seungmin loves being an idol.

He loves to sing and performing in front of Stays always thrills him. He loves the other members and really, everyone else that he gets a chance to work with. At times it can be stressful, but for the most part, it’s fairly easy to manage the downsides of being famous.

But when he started dating you, he found out that there are parts of being an idol that he hates.

He always thought that he'd be different from a lot of idols and wouldn't be afraid to show his partner off. The second he met you though, he knew he'd do anything and everything in his power to keep you safe. You understand, of course, and do your part to make sure that only your closest friends and family are aware of who you're dating.

It pains Seungmin to do this, but he knows nothing good can come out of your identity being known.

The two of you are more than careful, sometimes Seungmin feels silly with how cautious he is about meeting up with you. Yet somehow his heart always feels like it will beat out of his chest whenever he sees articles that speculate about idol relationships.

You do your best to stop him from stressing, but it’s something that Seungmin can't quite shake. You're the most important thing in his life, of course his biggest fear would be losing you.

—

The first time his phone rings during a livestream with the whole group, Seungmin brushes it off. The caller ID says it's an unknown number and everyone he knows has been receiving a lot of spam calls and texts lately.

He swipes away the notification and tries to focus on just reading comments when the same number calls back, a couple minutes later. He ignores it again, but on the third call, he nudges Chan’s knee beside him and subtly tilts his phone screen so that Chan can see. His phone is on silent so nobody watching the live should be able to tell that he's getting the calls, but the timing feels too coincidental for him not to be suspicious.

"They keep calling," he says under his breath.

"We'll get someone to look into the number later, just keep ignoring it," Chan advises quietly.

Seungmin takes a quick screenshot of the number, then tries to get back into the conversation to distract himself. The next time he looks down at his phone again, someone is once again calling him.

Seungmin almost reflexively rejects the call, until he realises it's your nickname flashing up on his screen.

You generally don’t call Seungmin without warning, especially not during the day when there’s a higher chance that Seungmin won’t be able to readily answer.

[sent - 3:12 pm]

sorry baby, working right now, can it wait?

His stomach drops when you just call again in response. He doesn’t want to alarm any of the members or the fans when he doesn’t know what’s going on, but he has a bad feeling about this. He once again flashes his phone to Chan briefly and leans in close.

“I want to take this, I don’t know why she’s calling, but something doesn’t seem right.”

Chan bites his lip, obviously torn for a second, before he seems to make up his mind.

“We’ve been live for almost 20 minutes, give me one second and we’ll end it so that you can talk to her, yeah?” Chan puts a hand on Seungmin’s shoulder and squeezes it tightly for a moment before clapping his hands together, effectively ending the conversation that the rest of the members were having.

Seungmin makes himself smile as they all say goodbye, but it's obvious that it's forced.

Even though the live ended as quickly as possible, Seungmin still has 2 new missed calls by the time he’s found himself an empty room to use.

"Hello?"

"Uhm hello, is this Min?" a man asks hesitantly. His voice is unfamiliar and it scares Seungmin. The only thing that brings a little bit of comfort is knowing that you’re careful to never call Seungmin by his full name when talking about him with friends or coworkers, you even have his contact information set as a nickname.

"Who is this?" he asks instead. “Where’s Y/n?”

"My name is Hyunwoo, I work with Y/n-ssi. I’m very sorry for interrupting you, but Y/n-ssi said that you were one of her emergency contacts. We tried to call with another number previously, but weren’t able to reach you."

“Sorry, I generally do not answer calls from unknown numbers. Is Y/n okay?” Seungmin swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Can I- can I please speak to her?”

“She’s just not feeling well and needs to go home. She’s resting in another room, but I can get her, one moment please.”

There’s a bit of background noise, the sound of footsteps, murmuring, then finally, your voice.

“Minnie?” you ask, sounding groggy. “I’m sorry for bothering you, I know you were working today.”

“Hey baby, it’s okay. You don't have to worry about me. You know that you’re more important than work to me right? I’m glad you got them to call me. How are you doing?”

“I'm tired. I'm okay, just, I was feeling light-headed and have a headache so I can't work. Hyunwoo said he thinks I have a fever.”

“Okay, I’m going to pick you up and bring you home then. Just continue resting until I get there. I'll see you soon.”

Seungmin doesn’t know what he’d do without the other members. As soon as he finishes explaining the situation to them, they’re already calling a car and working out schedules so that there aren’t any problems.

—

Hyunwoo eyes Seungmin carefully when they first meet, likely due to the face mask and hat he's wearing. When Seungmin removes the mask and shakes Hyunwoo’s hand, he's relieved when he doesn't appear to recognise him. It's not exactly a surprise, men are generally less likely to follow k-pop groups and Seungmin hardly looks like an idol when he's barefaced and in the jeans and t-shirt that he wore for the live.

“Thank you for calling me, Hyunwoo-ssi,” Seungmin says. “Sorry I didn’t pick up at first.”

“It’s okay, Min-ssi. Y/n-ssi mentioned that your work might make you difficult to contact.” Seungmin appreciates that Hyunwoo doesn’t make any attempt to pry further.

“And thank you for taking care of Y/n.”

“It’s not a problem. Y/n-ssi is a pleasure to work with and we all want her to get better as quickly as possible. Come with me, I’ll bring you to her.”

You’re lying in a small meeting room that has all the lights off and blinds drawn. The table and chairs have all been shifted to the side to fit a yoga mat that has been laid out. You squint up at Seungmin from under a mis-match of jackets with your head resting on a pillow that matches the couches that were in the reception area of your office.

“Minnie?” Your voice is soft and a little bit confused.

“Yes, it’s me, Y/n. How’re you feeling?”

Seungmin rushes to your side, crouching on the carpet so that he can cup your cheek. Your skin is flushed and hot to the touch. You reach out a hand and he clasps it tightly with his free hand.

“Mm, I wanna go home.”

“Let’s go home then.”

The company car is still parked outside of your office building, close enough that you insist on walking yourself. Seungmin tries not to hover, but he makes sure to keep his arm looped around your waist so that you don’t stumble. The drive back to your place is fairly short, but when Seungmin glances over you’re looking unwell. Maybe it’s just the dim lighting from the backseat, but you look paler than usual and your eyes are closed.

“You feeling okay?” Seungmin asks, squeezing your hand.

“A bit nauseous,” you murmur.

“We’re almost there, just take a few deep breaths through your nose for me.”

Even though it's only a few minutes before they pull onto the street that you live on, it feels like forever. Seungmmin tries to keep you preoccupied by rubbing circles into your palm. Instead of trying to help you out of the car and into your apartment, Seungmin thanks the company driver and opts to just carry you all the way in.

He helps to change you out of your work clothes and tucks you into your bed. You link your fingers together and protest when Seungmin attempts to leave your side.

“I promise I'll be back in a second, I just want to get some things to help you feel better, okay?” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You agree, but reluctantly.

Seungmin tries to stay quiet as he rummages around your apartment, gathering some medicine, a thermometer, a glass of water, and some crackers. Next he dampens a face cloth and brings everything to your bedside table, folding up the cloth and laying it across your forehead.

He supports you in sitting up slightly to take your temperature, brushing his fingers through your hair as you wait for enough time to pass. You lean into his touch slightly, humming in pleasure when Seungmin switches to giving you a light head massage. When the thermometer beeps, it confirms what Hyunwoo suspected, you have a low grade fever.

“You have a bit of a fever,” Seungmin tells you, keeping his voice low. “Do you feel up to having some water and medicine? It'll help you feel better, I think.”

“Okay,” you say, taking the pills that Seungmin hands you and swallowing them with a bit of water.

“Do you want to rest some more now? I want you to stay hydrated so I can make broth for you or get juice.”

“Do you have another schedule? You don't have to stay and take care of me.”

“I don't have to, I want to. And what did I say earlier? Don't worry about me. I'm not missing anything important.”

“So you are missing something,” you insist, your stubbornness making itself known. Seungmin can't help but find it endearing, especially the way that your bottom lip juts out to form a pout.

“Just vocal lessons. I already know how to sing, so it’s fine. Innie had his scheduled for tomorrow, the two of us are going to swap.”

“Oh,” you say, apparently satisfied by that.

“See, nothing to worry about. Now, what did you want? Broth or juice?”

“Broth,” you decide. “But that means you'll have to leave again. I don't want to be alone.”

Seungmin hesitates for a moment before reaching for something resting on the side of your bed.

“You won't be alone, Daengmo will keep you company, okay?”

Seungmin had gifted the stuffed dog to you the first time he had gone abroad after the two of you had started dating, even though it was only to Japan. You had insisted that he keep it at first, knowing how fond he was of the toy, but he had convinced you that it would prevent you from missing him whenever he was away.

“M'kay,” you say sleepily, wrapping your arms around Daengmo.

“You can close your eyes while I'm gone and I'll be back before you know it.”

“I'm not tired,” you say, although even in the dim lighting Seungmin can see that your eyes are starting to droop. “I'm going to stay awake until you come back.”

“Whatever you say,” Seungmin replies.

He leaves your room, closing the door behind him quietly, and heads towards the kitchen.

Seungmin prepares a couple of pots to make you soup. The first he prepares with some ingredients to make a simpler version of a ginseng chicken soup. He knows it'll take a while to cook though, so he adds water, powdered chicken broth, and ginger to the second. Within a few minutes, the clear broth is ready to serve.

Seungmin scoops a portion of it into a mug and slips an ice cube in so that you won't burn your mouth trying to drink it. He makes his way back to your room as quickly as he can, but careful to avoid the liquid sloshing over the sides.

When he eases the door open, he's greeted with the side of you with your eyes closed, clutching Daengmo tightly. Your breaths are deep and even, although you stir slightly when he sets the mug down on your nightstand.

“I'm here now," he reassures you quietly. “You just keep resting.”

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you say in a small voice.

“Of course, I’ll always be here for you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

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farfaras · 1 year

Text

First part to this prompt I posted the other day. This is gonna be eventual steddie (sorry, stonathan) and I’m really excited. Title from the song ‘nonsense’ by Sabrina Carpenter.

I think I got an ex but I forgot him

Part 1. (You’re here)

Part 2.

If he heard the words: Robin and in love, in the same sentence, with the melodious voice of one Dustin Henderson, one more time. Steve was sure he was gonna lose it.

Listen, he understands where he’s coming from. The kid just wants him to be happy. But he is! Dustin just doesn’t seem to get that. Happiness doesn’t only come in the form of a relationship. His teenage brain can’t comprehend that fact just yet. He wishes he did though, because he’s absolutely insufferable about getting Steve and Robin together.

No excuse or explanation he gives is good enough. Dustin still insists that he needs to try, that this is his chance at true love. Robin is kind of the love of his life, sure, but the platonic love of his life. His best friend, his soulmate, sister from another mister. All that jazz. Dustin doesn’t buy it though.

And Steve’s tried everything! He even told Dustin about that time in starcourt when they were high off his asses. Told him that he confessed his crush to Robin but that she rejected him, and that they were best friends now and nothing else. He obviously left out the part where Robin came out to him. He’s never gonna reveal Robin’s secret to anyone. The only answer he got was that “It doesn’t even matter now! Things could’ve changed! You never know.” Steve knew. He knew that he would never be into his best friend like that, and she would never be into him. Apparently they were the only ones who knew that.

Because of all the fuss Dustin was constantly making, other people started giving their input. Thanks Dustin. They didn’t get it either, didn’t believe they were just Platonic with a capital P. They made sure they knew it too, the whole party, Nancy, Jonathan, Eddie. Not Argyle, he said that the energy between Steve and Robin was intense but completely friendly, almost like they were twins. Steve liked Argyle. Of course he had to be miles away.

Most of their friends dropped the subject after the second time Steve or Robin explained the nature of their relationship. Even if they weren’t convinced, they didn’t push. Except for one person. Yep. Dustin.

Who was currently harassing Steve at his job. He didn’t know what else to tell him. If family video wasn’t empty he would just ignore him to do his job but there was nothing to do. He couldn’t even sweep or anything because everything was already done.

“Okay well! There must be a good reason why you guys haven’t gotten together!” Dustin exclaimed. He is so fucking stubborn.

“I already told you, Henderson. We’re. Just. Friends.” He knew it wasn’t gonna do anything. It was just a routine at this point.

Dustin’s expression changed to determination. “Nuh uh. There’s a reason there. And I’m gonna find out!” Shit. Could Dustin figure out Robin? He doesn’t think so. But he’s starting to panic. What if he finds out? Robin doesn’t deserve that. He’d feel like it was his fault, and everything would go to shit.

“Okay! Okay! There is a reason.”

“I knew it! You have to tell me.” Dustin demanded. Well, Steve hasn’t thought that much ahead. He needs to come up with something and he needs to do it fast if Dustin is gonna believe it.

“Look, I haven’t told anyone this before.” Building suspense, nice.

Then, an idea popped into his head and it seemed like the perfect response to all of this. Or maybe it’s the only thing he could think of in such short notice. “I’m gay.” He blurts out. It made sense in his head, really. Robin doesn’t get outed, but she can still look at the reaction she might get when she comes out. (It doesn’t hold any kind of truth at all. Not one Steve can see right now at least.)

Dustin is just staring at him. “What? I don’t, you’re not, since when?”

“Since I was born?” It sounds like a question. Steve didn’t prepare for follow up questions to the reply he literally just crafted.

“There’s no way you’re gay.” At least he didn’t seem disgusted or upset? Is this a good or bad reaction?

“Are you not okay with it?” Steve dared to ask.

“What?! Of course I’m okay with it, I’m just. I don’t care, but you don’t really seem gay. It’s hard to believe.” At least he’s okay with it. He’s still being stubborn.

“Way to stereotype, Henderson.”

Dustin sputters. “Wha- can you even blame me? Who could believe you?”

The next words that came out of Steve’s mouth didn’t actually ask for permission to be said. “My boyfriend can believe it.” He said it so matter of fact that he surprised himself a little. The way he usually took the route of action before thinking was gonna bite him in the ass some day. Would that be today?

“Boyfriend?!! And you didn’t tell me? You don’t have a boyfriend!” He accused Steve. “Who is it?”

Oh. Shoot. Quick, brain. Who could be his boyfriend? Someone his age, that was single, and could be believed to be in a gay relationship.

“It’s Jonathan.” Why did he say that? He just broke up with Nancy, that would just seem like a messy situation. Also is he literally just doing what he scolded Dustin for and stereotyping?

“But he just broke up with Nancy.” Hmm. Did Dustin read his mind or something.

“It’s new. That’s why I haven’t told anyone.”

“Not even Robin?” Oh, crap. Is he gonna have to tell this to people? Well, he should probably tell Jonathan first that he is apparently in a relationship with him now.

“Not even Robin.” Dustin beamed at this.

“You know, even if you and Jonathan are kind of a weird sounding couple, and this is surprising… if you’re happy then I’m happy for you, Steve.” That was weirdly sweet of Dustin.

“Thanks, bud.”

After that and renting a movie, Dustin was on his way. He gave Steve a hug goodbye and hopped on his bike to go home.

Steve had a lot of things to get done now. And he hoped that the first one went well because he didn’t really have a plan B if it didn’t. What had he gotten himself into?

First things first. Asking Jonathan to be his fake boyfriend.

At least for a while.

What could go wrong?

Step 1. Get Jonathan to be his fake boyfriend.

Step 2. Probably get Robin in on it?

He’s not sure about that one. This situation was kind of embarrassing, he’d rather just share his embarrassment with the one person who is absolutely necessary. Also Robin doesn’t seem like the type to lie to their friends. Even if it was harmless.

Step 2. Probably get Robin in on it?

Step 2. Make a game plan.

They’d probably need to talk about how this was gonna go. Get all their facts straight in case there were any questions, which there were going to be. Plan how long this was gonna be for. He was getting a bit ahead of himself, but there was no plan B.

Step 3. Hope it’s believable.

He was already outside of the Hopper-Byers home. This shouldn’t be hard, Jonathan is a pretty understanding guy. He wouldn’t judge Steve, or make fun of him. At least that’s what Steve hoped. They’ve been developing a friendship for a while. Which has been going surprisingly well. Fuck. Was this gonna mess it up?

He got out of his car and walked to the door, knocking. El answered the door, she gave him a smile and let him in.

“Is Jonathan home?” Him asking for Jonathan wasn’t a rare occurrence nowadays, so El just nodded and pointed to his room.

He knocked to make his presence known. “Hey, Jon?” He opened the door and stepped inside the room.

“Hiya. What’s up, Harrington?” Jonathan grinned at Steve. Ah. Shit. He didn’t look completely sober. Must’ve smoked something earlier.

“Well, I wanted to talk to you. I’d rather wait until you sober up though.” Jonathan just gave him a thumbs up.

“Happy to have company.” Steve knew Jonathan was having trouble dealing with the break up. They had been together for a while and he thought that those two were gonna beat all the odds and marry each other or something. Maybe they still could find their way back to each other someday. Right now though, it probably sucked.

Nancy was off to college, Jonathan stayed here in Hawkins doing community college. There was no way of knowing how Nancy was taking it, she barely called and when she did it was kinda cut and dry. Although Steve supposed that was a way of telling she wasn’t doing so good either.

They hung out, doing nothing in particular. Just talking, listening to music and Steve sobering him up.

“Did you say you wanted to talk about something?” Jon asked. He looked sober now. Or as sober as his perpetual stoner face could look.

“Yeah… I kinda did something stupid.”

“Don’t we all.” Cute. Was he trying to make him feel better? It would’ve worked if what he did wasn’t as stupid as it was.

“No, seriously. I think this is the dumbest thing I have done.” Understatement.

“It can’t be that bad.” Jon’s words weren’t aligned with his face because it looked like he was starting to worry.

“It has something to do with you too.” With those words, Steve definitely made Jonathan start to worry. “Hear me out first!”

Retelling the events from earlier was excruciating. Steve has never felt this embarrassed before. It sounded so dumb saying it out loud.

“You really couldn’t come up with anything else? Like oh I don’t know. Saying you don’t like Robin like that?” It was like he wasn’t even listening.

“I tried that thousands of times! He wouldn’t buy it!”

“Why haven’t you just dated anyone else? To prove that you’re not hung up on her?” Interesting line of questioning. Honestly, it’s been a long time since someone has made him feel anything at all. No girl caught his attention like before. Has the upside down messed him up so bad that he can’t form romantic connections anymore?

“I just, I don’t really. Taking a break from dating sounded good to me.”

“Uh huh. Sure.” Jon didn’t believe him, whatever.

“Look I just panicked, spoke without thinking.”

“You know, I actually thought that Dustin was right about you and Robin before. But if you’re so determined to prove you’re not, to even come up with something like that.” Steve hated this. Was Jonathan getting a kick out of this?

“Are you amused? I’m kinda suffering here.” Steve lamented. “Can you just please help me?

“Oh god, what do you expect me to do? Pretend to date you to get Dustin off your back?” Yes. Please.

“Look! I only ask for a few weeks! It doesn’t have to be for long. Just, a few weeks of fake dating and then just say it didn’t work out and we decided to stay friends. All that cheesy stuff.” God, he was not being convincing at all.

Jonathan still looked skeptical. But at least he was considering it now. “I’ll owe you, big time. Whatever favor you want.” Steve offered.

Jon looked resigned now. He huffed out a breath. “I never thought my first boyfriend was gonna be Steve Harrington.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I always pictured a nerd or maybe a stoner.” He was confused now. Was Jonathan? “Yes, Steve. You should probably know if we’re gonna do this. I also like guys. And I’m assuming you’re okay with it, considering what you just asked.”

“Of course! Thanks for telling me. I’m glad you could trust me.” He was being genuine. Even if Steve was a little surprised, and now felt even more guilty about words he used in the past to insult Jonathan. All the past apologies seemed insufficient. Even so, he was happy that their friendship could develop into this.

“So? How is this gonna work? You really owe me now, you know.”

“Trust me, I know.”

So their friendship wasn’t ruined. Who knows? Maybe this could make it stronger.

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tarjapearce · 6 days

Text

That First Kiss

Pre Soccer Family! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warning: 0. Just fluff. Mildly suggestive towards the end

Summary: The first kiss shared with Miguel ~

After that dance back at Peter there was something undeniable blooming between Miguel and you.

He had tried to kiss you after all, only to be denied by a simple yet crucial mistake made by none other than his own doubts.

He mulled over your words over and over. Would've something changed if he invited you properly to the party? Maybe something, maybe everything. He didn't know anymore but his mind was set into achieving that kiss.

Would it be too desperate if I want to kiss her?

He had asked Peter.

Cause in all truth, Miguel O'Hara, a prodigy, and soon to be ascended in the Alchemax's bureaucracy lines, didn't know a peep in flirting, much less in when to make a move.

The epitome of such thing was him telling you about the party, but not inviting you.

Social gatherings weren't his forte but Peter and Gabriel had been kind enough to include him in every activity and prevent him from being a forever stunted wallflower. The reason why Peter always asked him to cook for his parties.

And the reason he was having an override in his system after you left him with his lips pursed, perfect to touch yours.

"If you wanna do that, means you're into her. That you like her."

Peter mumbled while sucking the sauce off his fingers.

Despite the disgusting sight his red eyes got at the moment, he knew Peter was rather intuitive when it came to these things. He wasn't a complete idiot.

But with MJ at his side, Miguel had secretly made Peter a prime example of what to do and not do when it came to women.

"Can't believe she refused to kiss you." his friend snorted while drinking the last bit of his Corona.

"Don't remind me."

Miguel rubbed his face and picked up the dishes.

"Look, you're the only one that hasn't realized she also likes you." Peter smirked when Miguel gave a faint and proud chuckle at his words.

"You just gotta make a little more effort if you know what I mean."

"Not really."

"C'mon pal, I know you had a girl back in college."

"Dana? We just lasted a semester."

"Still is experience. Negative or positive. But your friend that's into you too, is a new chance to make things right. If that's what you're after."

"I wanna take it slow and see where it leads us."

Peter nodded but then shrugged.

"Tell me something. Do you want just a hookup with her?"

"No."

"What do you want then?"

"Get to know her more and see where it takes us." Miguel mumbled a tad sheepishly.

"Do you want whatever it is to be something more?"

"If she wants to. If she doesn't then... I'll leave her be."

"And how would you do that?" Peter kept inquiring and Miguel seemed to actually consider his words.

"By inviting her to a dinner or a movie."

Peter smiled and nodded proudly. "You're welcome. Now... All you gotta do is save her number I totally did not asked MJ, and invite her." Peter sent him your number and washed his hands.

"I got you, pal. Don't screw it up this time though."

-----

Would you be asleep? Would it be rude of him to suddenly text you out of nowhere? It had been a week of staring at his phone screen, glaring at your name on the chat log and watching the profile picture change a couple of times.

A week of pure self torture and replaying the many scenarios of him being fooled and rejected. He was angry at you for making him this nervous and, angry at himself for not being able to press send after rewriting several times the future message that could either make it or break it, before anything could even take off between you two.

"If you're trying to see if you have telepathy, I'm telling you, it's not working Miggy."

Miguel rolled his eyes and heaved a frustrated sigh.

"I like her. You haven't even started something and you're already nervous."

Miguel threw a pillow at Gabriel and the latter laughed to then return it.

"It's just a message, not a proposal."

"How do I know-"

"Goddammit" Gabriel groaned annoyed.

It felt like time slowed down when Gabriel pressed his fingertip against the screen on the send button.

Three letters were sent. And the seen icon showed up.

Hey

But his heart thumped harder when the three dots appeared on his screen along a message

Hello, stranger :)

Gabriel snorted and patted his shoulder.

"Good luck, Miggy."

----

Hey

Hello, stranger :)

It's Miguel. Peter gave me your number.

Oh? Too afraid of asking it yourself, Dracula?

He chuckled while accommodating the pillow behind his head.

It always escapes my mind doing so, Pitufina.

Sorry if I'm interrupting .

My overthinking maybe, so thanks for that.

His smile widened

Must admit though, didn't expect you to message me.

Sorry for taking that long. Wasn't that sure you'd engage into this.

'Engage into this' he says. Relax, I ain't biting.

Unless that's your sort of thing. I don't judge :) .

A little warmth spreaded through his cheeks as he read the message with an airy chuckle.

Wanna find out?

I believe the polite thing to do before that happens, is for you to take me out on some dates, sir.

He had you right where he wanted. With a deep breath he typed, not letting the sudden burst of boldness that took over to waste.

Then next week, a dinner on Friday. I'll pick you up at 7.

He left no room for doubts, just a yes from your end.

Yes, sir.

And it was official. Miguel O'Hara had a date.

Then a second and a third. Tonight was the fourth one. Something regular, more intimate and comfortable. A movie night.

I'm going through the popcorn section and there's no spicy one. And I know you give the caramel ones the mean eye.

They get stuck in my teeth, preciosa. Not precisely something I enjoy removing.

I've got Butter Lovers and classic.

Bring the classics and some tajín. I'll prepare them here.

Ok. On my way

You closed the chat log and went to the cashier.

----

Even though he had explained you that he didn't have a problem by paying up in all the dates, you still wanted to give some of that back. He had refused but eventually agreed upon sensing your pouting through the texts.

So you were in charge of the snacks this time. You'd be a liar to say if you didn't go overboard with it. The usual candies and some Mexican snacks he talked about in the past dates.

Movie begun, both of you laid on his couch, inches away from touching each other's knees and shoulders. A bowl of popcorn on his hands big enough for the both, some soda and other candies.

The movie played, earning a few giggles here and there from you and sometimes Miguel.

You didn't know when his fingers grazed your shoulder, or when his arm draped around you.

You could feel his heart thumping through his solid and warm chest, inviting you to rest your head on it.

And when you did, his whole body tensed, to finally relax when you smiled.

His eyes had long stopped focusing on the movie, rather your expressions and reactions.

The way your eyes crinkled with joy, your lower lip trembling on a specific sad scene and how lovely they stretched whenever a laugh came out of them.

"God, that's so corny."

You tittered while resting your head ontop of his chest again. Body relaxing with a deep and silent sigh.

Your fingers curled softly ontop of him and his hand immediately opened to hold yours. Long and calloused fingers entwined with yours.

The darkened room and the dim light irradiating from the tv were the perfect catalyst for him to inch his head closer to yours.

Miguel gulped when you craned your head upwards to watch him,

"Are you ok?"

He nodded but gulped again when your tongue misted your lips, as if preparing them for an emerging endeavor.

"You? Are you enjoying?"

A sweet smile stretched again in your lips. But your eyes were locked in his, breaking the contact for a minute to stare at his lips.

His arm pulled you closer and one of your hands slid through his cheek, caressing his skin, mildly prickly with stubble.

He was about to speak, but closed his lips to finally dip his head and kiss you. As if deciding that going for it instead of asking made it better.

Your lips received him with a soft sigh that only deepened when he placed a hand on the slope of your jaw to keep you in place as his lips kept kissing and marking yours in slow and gentle motions.

Your hands thrummed over his chest, and soon both of his hands were gently cupping your face. Some of your strands entangled in his fingers.

Neither wanted to break it. Not when his tongue was curling and playing with yours, fighting sensually for control. But your lungs demanded air. And when the kiss broke, he took a deep inhale to give gentle pecks on your sweet tasting lips.

"Happy?" your forehead rested against his and his hands roamed your back. Taking a much heat he could from you.

"Very." Another peck and you bit him softly. He returned the bite with his fangs trapping your bottom lip to then deliver a gentle lick on it.

"Can I have more?"

He put a strand of hair off your face and tucked it behind your ear while nodding with dazed eyes and a warm smile on his face.

"Los que quieras, mi amor." (As many as you want.)

#t writes✨#miguel o'hara x reader #soccer family ⚽🕷️#miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #mama o'hara #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara fluff #miguel ohara

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vettelsvee · 6 days

Text

BEE HOTELS | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

sebastian vettel x wife!journalist!reader

summary: seb's suzuka biodiversity project goes according to plan... or will he have some surprises that he might reject at first?

word count: 1983

warnings: none of it really! just seb being the standard, as i always write him (almost always, oops). use of y/n y/l/n

taglist: @celemilii bc i wrote this for her as a birthday present! i recommend you to read her works bc she's just like me: we write about the oldies.

you can send your one shots requests here! feedback is truly appreciated!

The painting in yellow and black tones increasingly filled his hands. Sweat dripped from his forehead, not only due to the sun that was blazing that day in Suzuka but also because of the stress he was feeling to ensure that the project turned out as planned: flawlessly.

Sebastian had spent months not only brainstorming and meticulously preparing for that Japanese Grand Prix weekend but also dedicating himself wholeheartedly the night before to build each of the hotels that his former colleagues were now painting.

He was exhausted, but the feeling of happiness he was experiencing at that moment was immense. The conversations among the other drivers couldn't be more positive. They seemed to be enjoying the process, constantly sharing laughter and jokes among them as they continued with their task the best they could.

While the German was focused on ensuring that everything was going perfectly, he could gradually see, out of the corner of his eye, a figure he knew perfectly well in any form.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?"

Her husband's tone surprised Y/N, who lowered her arms, disheartened, knowing that the hug she was about to give would most likely not be reciprocated.

"I came to see you. What else would I do?" replied the journalist, ignoring Seb's behavior. "And to interview you too, but you already know it."

The blonde frowned, feeling a bit confused by the situation. Interview him? How could there be nothing he wouldn't know?

"Interview me?" he innocently asked.

"Didn't Britta tell you?"

Sebastian shook his head once again. Y/N’s gaze shifted to Roeske, who averted his eyes at the mess he knew he had caused with the couple. The former driver's PR knew that if he had said anything beforehand, Seb would have likely rejected the offer and, most importantly, gotten upset. Besides, he knew that such a refusal would upset Mrs. Vettel, and that would end up in a pointless argument between the couple.

"Well, you know how Britta is. She didn't mention anything about interviewing me today, especially not by you. You know, with so many things she has to keep track of..." Vettel tried to excuse her.

The journalist shook her head and once again looked at the PR, seeking confirmation from his side. A single nod was enough to acknowledge that her client was right.

"Y/N, schön, we need to maintain professionalism," Vettel stated firmly, seeing that neither of the two women responded. "I don't think it's very appropriate to mix our personal life with the professional one. We've always done it this way, and we should..."

"To hell with professionalism, darling," she interrupted, raising her voice. "We've been pretending to be professional for too many years to keep doing it. You've been retired for almost a year, living the life you've always wanted with our children and me," she explained, trying to convince him. "It won't hurt if you let go and be yourself, if we just are ourselves."

Sebastian remained silent for a few seconds that felt eternal for the woman. He knew Y/N was right, he knew nothing would happen if they showed themselves as the couple they were in private, but his shyer side, the most introverted one, the one that wanted to protect his privacy above all and, above all, his family, felt a kind of fear that this would end up making him completely vulnerable to public scrutiny.

"Alright, let's do the interview," the German finally said, causing his wife to start hopping around before pouncing on him and kissing him all over his face.

"Where should we start, Mr. Vettel?"

"What about giving Mrs. Vettel a kiss?" he replied, playing along with the game the journalist had started. "You know, to help ease any tensions..."

Sebastian didn't need to say anything more for his wife to take his face in her hands and pull him towards her, giving him a kiss that lasted not only longer than they would have allowed on another occasion, but also longer than they themselves expected.

They ended up pulling away after a few seconds, just as they began to hear cheers, applause, and comments from the other drivers, who were watching the couple enthralled, as they had never shown themselves in such a way during their years in Formula 1.

"Carry on with what you're doing!" the four-time world champion shouted, trying not to sound angry. "I don't want anything left unfinished!"

Y/N couldn't help but blush and lower her head in embarrassment at all the attention she was drawing.

"Um... shall we start now, darling?" the journalist spoke again, trying to regain control of the situation.

"Yes, yes, of course. Go ahead, ask me anything."

She quickly pulled out her notebook, where she had written down a large number of questions to ask her husband as if she hadn't actually worked hand in hand with him on the project. She tried to maintain professionalism despite the still uncomfortable situation they were immersed in.

Seb, who seemed to notice how tense the woman was, decided to do things a little differently, although it was more than obvious that it took him some effort to take the first step.

Quickly and with trembling hands, he wrapped his right arm around his wife's waist and slowly guided her to sit on the ground next to him. She resisted at first because, deep down, she was also afraid to show herself as she truly was with the love of her life; but when she saw how the German also invited the cameraman who was filming them to sit on the ground, she knew there was no choice but to listen to the guy who initially meant nothing to her but ended up becoming her everything.

"More comfortable like this, right, schön?" Sebastian wanted to know, even though he already knew the answer.

"Yes, I think it will be more comfortable, darling," she replied, allowing herself to be guided by her husband's behavior, although once again blushing slightly.

With her head resting on his shoulder, the journalist took her notebook in her hands again, flipping through the page where she had the first question of what would undoubtedly be the most fake interview not only she had ever done but probably would do in her extensive career as a journalist.

"Well, let's start, darling. What inspired you the most to start this biodiversity project?"

"Well, as you know, I've always felt a special connection with nature and the environment. Do you remember the conversations we used to have, like, I don't know, about twelve or thirteen years ago?" she nodded. Of course, she remembered. How could she forget when he revealed to her how much the issue mattered to him at his home in Monaco, even before they had started dating? "I wanted to do something to show the importance of biodiversity, so these bee hotels seemed perfect to me."

"And why Suzuka, Seb?"

"Do you really need an answer to that question?" the man countered, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you already knew."

Now it was Y/N who looked less than pleased. Of course she knew why he had chosen Suzuka, it's just that the viewers, possibly, didn't.

"Suzuka is a very special place for me, both professionally and personally," the German continued. "This place has witnessed many important moments of my life, and I wanted to somehow give back everything it has done for me. Its people, I mean," he hastened to add. The journalist laughed at the incoherence of the response, earning herself a playful punch on the arm and some affectionate insults.

The interview continued in such a way that, more than a recording that would be broadcast on various media later, it seemed like one of those informal chats the couple used to have in their room, lying on the bed they both shared, after reading a story to their children and leaving them completely asleep.

Laughs, knowing looks, and even some intimate memories that ended up being revealed to the camera flowed effortlessly. Sebastian couldn't stop playing with Sally's hands and hair, caressing them so delicately that she seemed like a porcelain doll. The journalist, on her part, couldn't stop running her index finger up and down her husband's arm, writing invisible messages about how much she loved him.

"To finish I'd like to know something, darling. How was the process of designing and building each one of those bee hotels?"

"As you already know, and for those who are watching, I was lucky to work with a local carpenter yesterday. We worked on them all day long, and even part of the night. There are eleven in total: one for each team, and one for me," replied the German with a big smile.

His wife started laughing, and her lips twisted in a way that it wasn't hard for Vettel to recognize that his wife was hiding something.

"In fact, there are twelve, Seb," the journalist said with a playful tone.

"What do you mean twelve?" he asked, quite confused. "Love, you were there yesterday. There were eleven. One for each team, one for every two drivers, and another for..."

"I made one myself and I painted it too. Well... some parts are already painted because I asked the kids, secretly, to paint them so you could have a little piece of them here..."

The former driver was impressed by his wife's confession, and he couldn't help but feel emotional. Even a couple of tears threatened to leave his eyes when he saw Y/N, completely excited, getting up from the grass and fixing her clothes before reaching out her hand to him.

"What are you waiting for, Seb? Come on, you have to see it!"

Seb followed her, feeling a mix of very strange emotions after sharing life with this girl for so many years. When they arrived, they stopped in front of it, Britta taking photos from every possible angle and then starting a video call with the couple's children, who were staying with Seb’s parents.

"Schön, this is... God, I have no words. It's incredible."

Y/N smiled proudly before heading towards the structure and start explaining him everything.

"I've drawn us here, right in the front," indeed, there were two larger figures next to three smaller ones, surrounded by flowers and trees. "And here are the kids' drawings. Honestly, I don't know what they've drawn, but... I knew it would make you happy to have a little piece of them too."

The blonde bent down in front of the hotel made by his wife, examining it carefully as he traced with his fingers the strokes that Emily, Matilda, and Ben had made who knows when, and that seemed to have been well hidden. They were simple, clumsy, but he knew that behind them there was something much more important: the purest love he had ever experienced and that nothing and no one could surpass, not even his wife.

"It's wonderful, Y/N. You have no idea what this means to me."

Y/N could only approach her husband and give him a chaste kiss on the lips, not caring this time what happened next.

"I did it for you, Seb. I love you, we love you," she corrected herself, turning towards the mobile phone in front of them that Britta still held, referring to their children, who could be heard excitedly. "You are the sunshine of our lives and you deserve much more than this."

Sebastian didn't hesitate to, once again, kiss Y/N, and then hug her tightly, continuing to give her kisses on her temples.

"I wouldn't be the sunshine of your life if you weren't in it," he whispered in her ear. "You are the sunshine of my life. I love you, Y/N. Thank you for everything."

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maikirumoo · 7 months

Text

after hours

after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction

for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

chapter one

chapter two | red. rain. rotten.

his pov;

She was standing underneath a stripe-patterned banner that shielded her from the pouring rain. Her nimble fingers sorted through an assortment of fruits, trying to decide which were the ripest and tastiest of the bunch. Of course, she was by herself, with none of her peers or family around her. I knew she was close to them. But why must she always be alone?

The tan-suede coat I wore protected me from the cold, keeping my body somewhat warm. My gloves and hands were stuffed in my pockets as I peeked around the corner and watched the girl shop. I noticed her begin to shiver, which I dreaded. I was so selfish. I didn't need this coat. I've spent countless nights in the cold, the crashing waves of the East Blue only intensifying the breeze. I was almost immune to the cold, but her? Y/N's nose was reddening as her teeth shattered. Was any fruit worth suffering in the cold? A devil fruit, maybe. But even then, it wasn't worth it. "Y/N," I smiled as I approached the maiden. The girl's head rose as she picked up an apple then her body twisted, her eyes growing wide upon the sight of myself. She nearly jumped. "How-" She shook her head. "Are you following me?" Her voice and body shook. Yes. "No, of course not," I laughed, brushing the accusation off my shoulders as I took a few more steps toward her, closing the wide gap. "I was looking for something to eat and I spotted you. Am I not allowed to say hello?" Guilt was something I was tremendous at. Y/N still seemed skeptical but after a slight sigh, she smiled and nodded her head. "No, forgive me. I'm sorry. Uh," She turned her attention to the apple she was holding then let it drop among the others crowding in a small basket. "None of these apples look good."

"They've been sitting out for a while. The shop clerk doesn't take the best care of his fruits. It's why they're so cheap," I chuckled to myself and reached down to grab an apple. I twisted it and examined a large brown spot that was eating away at the once-bright red color. I huffed, "I'm sure you can find something else to eat."

"I can't afford anything else to eat."

My eyes widened and I took a step back, visibly and internally shocked. What? She couldn't afford to eat anything other than a rotten apple? "Why?"

"It's a long story," Y/N admitted. "But I don't wanna talk about it." The girl sorted through found one that looked reasonable, and started to dig in her pocket. She pulled out nothing. "Never mind, I can't even afford that." Letting out a pitiful laugh, she dropped the fruit. I frowned. Her absence of money was one of the few things I didn't know about her. And now that I was aware of it, I felt a puzzling and aggressive feeling in my stomach. Was she out of work? Did she not have any way of providing for herself? Raising my hand, I grabbed at my chin and scratched the bottom of it. "Let me buy you something to eat."

"What?" Her eyes widened and she immediately shook her head, waving her hands as a type of rejection. "You are not buying me anything."

"It's just lunch. It's no biggy," I remarked. "At least something small."

"Why?" She folded her arms over her chest. "Do you feel sorry for me? First, you see me getting picked on by some slob, and now, you see that I'm too poor to afford a rotten apple. What's next?"

"Y/N, knock it off. Stop. Just think of it as a friend doing something nice for their friend."

The questioning look remained stuck on her face as she stared up at me. I tried to maintain a serious expression though the look she was giving me made my lower lip purse, like a pout. How was someone so enchanting? I continued to stare into her eyes, making quick glimpses to explore her other facial features before she finally made a decision. "Fine, but just this once, okay?" "You got it." I winked. -=- Being the gentleman I am, I loaned Y/N my coat to wear despite her dismay and numerous declines. She was pouty the entire walk to the pub but I didn't care. I'd rather her in a pissy mood than feeling physically uncomfortable due to the rain. I, however, was shivering. I was starting to become drenched. I held a newspaper over my head in hopes of staying dry but the wind was strong and the rain was forceful, almost piercing through the thin paper.

When we arrived at the restaurant, she found herself a seat in the corner of the establishment, scooting far into the booth. I followed behind her, sitting on the edge of the seat. I'd rather her be sitting across from me than rather to the side but due to her current emotional state, I stayed quiet and slid her the menu. "Get whatever you want, alright? I mean it."

"Are you a man of money?"

"Something like that," I snickered and ducked my head down to examine the options.

"Have you killed anyone before?" Y/N asked as she folded her arms over the table, her eyes peering at me.

I furrowed my eyebrows and let out a soft laugh. "No," I lied. "I'm not like that. I wasn't that type of pirate."

"What kind of pirate were you?"

"What kind of pirates do you think there are?"

"I don't know," She said as she pursed her lips. "I don't like pirates."

I nodded, unsure of a proper reply. I didn't like lying to her. I was fine with lying, in general. I was the master of conniving and deception. But I wanted to be different for her. Maybe a better person, though that seemed a bit rash. I left the East Blue after discovering that Monkey D- or whatever his name was received a higher bounty than me. Double my own, to be precise. My normally high and mighty ego dropped down and was smooshed by a brick. I didn't want to show my face again, at least not for a while. I wanted somewhat of a fresh start. And when I discovered my presence in the North Blue was dim and almost non-existent, I decide to settle down and refresh.

Then I discovered her.

And my plans completely changed.

"Do you know what you're getting?" Y/N's voice interrupted my thoughts and I raised my head and peaked up at her, smiling softly.

"Hm, not too sure yet," I replied.

"Are you cold? You look cold. You can have your coat back, it's--"

"Nah, keep it. It looks better on you," I said with a grin. I reached for a napkin and started to dab at my forearms, trying to dry myself off. The lovely woman aside of me frowned and stayed quiet. I could tell she felt guilty, which, of course, wasn't my intention. So in hopes of brightening up the mood, I decided to tell a joke.

"What's a pirate's favorite type of exercise?"

Y/N smirked and scrunched her eyebrows. "What?" She laughed.

"The plank."

Her hand slapped over her mouth in hopes of keeping her loud giggles and snickers to a minimum but the more she proceeded to think about it, the more laughs she erupted. My face reddened. I glanced around me, noticing that every other patron and pirate were staring directly at us. Gulping, I reached forward and pulled her hand down from her mouth. "Come on, stop. It's not that funny."

"It's stupid, that's why it's funny!" She continued to cackle as she threw herself over the table, clutching her stomach. A smile crawled on my face, not a painted one. Hearing her laugh, while for no reason, was a beautiful sound. And seeing her laugh? That was even better. I rested my chin in my hand and watched her, smiling to myself. When she finally calmed down, she wiped tears from her eyes. Her face was stained red. "Gosh, I am so sorry," She sighed, shaking her head. "I needed that, thank you."

"It's no problem," I said as I dropped my menu.

Due to the lack of laughter, a waiter finally arrived and took our orders.

"I'll have a slice of apple pie, please. With a cup of milk," Y/N smiled up at the waiter as she read off from the menu.

I raised an eyebrow. Dessert?

"Then after that, I'll have the fish and chips. But I want the pie first, please. Not after." She announced and she folded her menu, sliding it forward. She smiled at me.

I looked at her, completely confused. "Uhm," I looked back to the waiter, "I'll just have a cup of coffee."

Now, Y/N was looking at me, confused.

The waiter nodded and left. "Hey," Y/N started. "Why aren't you eating? I thought you were on your way to get something to eat?"

"I'm not hungry. Plus I doubt you'll finish all of that. I might pick on your leftovers," I said with a grin then I started to munch on the small bowl of peanuts that sat in the middle of the table. "What's up with the apple pie though?"

"I like to eat my dessert before my food because that's what I'm looking forward to," She hummed as she leaned back in her seat. "What if during our meal, we are stormed by a group of pirates and killed at gunpoint? Or a sea snake comes and eats us whole?"

"Ha! What?"

"It's unlikely but it's possible. And I'd like to die knowing I was able to get to the good part of my meal." She wagged her finger at me.

"You make a good point there."

"I know," The girl said with a satisfied grin.

I chuckled and sat back, drumming my gloved fingers on the edge of the table. A thought pondered my mind but I didn't know whether to act on it or not. I wanted to, but I didn't want to overstep any boundaries. I felt Y/N and I were moving forward with our relationship if there was one. We were talking, enjoying a meal together. I made her laugh. She admitted a quirk about herself to me. I felt there was good progress. But I wanted more. I was an impatient man. And the fact that it took five months for me to finally talk to her, despite her initiating the conversation, was surprising. I was eager to get what I wanted. And Y/N was the only thing my mind and heart could agree on.

But the fighting halves of my brain finally settled and I rested my arm over the top of the booth, leaning back. "So, uh, earlier you said you needed to laugh? How so?"

"It's a long story," She mumbled, shrugging her shoulders.

"I've got no places to be, I have time," I said as I cracked a peanut open, discarding of the shells on an unfolded napkin. I watched as she began to grow uneasy with the topic but I was desperate to want to know what was the issue. Why was she stressing her pretty little head? I frowned. "Come on, talk to me. We aren't friends, I'm a stranger to you, no? Who am I gonna talk to or tell?"

"You make a good point," Y/N sighed and leaned forward, raising her hand to scratch at the back of her neck. "It's just- I don't know, it's a lot. I haven't talked to anyone about it."

“Why not?”

“Because it’s something I’m not proud of.”

What could someone as sweet and fragile as she has done that was such an awful deed?

“What is it?” I tossed a peanut into my mouth.

“Well, I was young when it all happened. But when Gold Roger announced the One Piece before he died, my dad was one of the stupid pirates who thought he could have a shot at finding it,” She announced as her eyes rolled and she started to chew on my inner cheek. “My mom kept telling him to knock it off and stop living in a fantasy but he set off, determined to find it. I haven’t seen him in fifteen years. But this came to me a few days ago,” The girl dug her hand into her pocket, rummaging around before she pulled out a crumpled piece of coffee-stained paper. She rolled the ball toward me.

I looked at her then back down at the paper ball. I reached forward and grabbed it, raising an eyebrow. Unfolding it, I smoothed the paper against the table and started to allow my eyes to trail over the letter.

‘Y/N,

It is with great sorrow that I write you this letter. I wish you the best in your youth and I hope you amount to incredible things, such as creating a new destiny for you and your mother. I am sorry I wasn’t able to be a better father for you. Greed is distasteful. I won’t see you again. At the time of writing this, I will be long gone. But please, do me one thing: never stop smiling.

I love you, kiddo.

Love, Dad’

I clenched my jaw and looked back up at her. “Damn, that is a lot.”

“I told you,” She whispered as she tore the paper out of my hands, crunched it into a ball, and then shoved it back into her pants. “I didn’t think he’d be dead. Not this soon. My parents had me when they were young. And to think that my dad died doing something everyone warned him of. It’s horrible. It haunts my mind every day,” She frowned, her eyes tearing up. “Do I write back?”

“Do you have things you wish to say to him?”

“So much. But if he’s dead, then there’s nothing I can say, right?” Y/N rubbed at her nose and took a deep breath as she looked up, her hands waving in hopes of drying her tears. “God, I hate crying.”

“Maybe just write your heart out. Say everything you wish you could say to him. Then seal it in a bottle and toss it into the sea,” I suggested. I looked down at my gloved hand and hesitating, I reached forward and took hold of her small hand. I gave it a tight squeeze. “What do you want to say?”

“How I hate him for abandoning me and my mother but I still love him because he’s my father,” Y/N murmured, the rest of her words muffling as her lower lip quivered. She broke down in a fit of sobs as tears ran down her gorgeous face. I swallowed, never knowing how to react when someone cried. As a child, I hated to be touched whenever I was upset. I wondered if she was the same way. “I don’t know, I don’t,” She repeated as she buried her face in her hands.

I looked around the bar, nervous that others were watching this scene. First the obnoxious laughter and now this? Her emotions were spiraling.

“Hey,” I whispered, my thumb rubbing along her wrist. “Let's say we get the food to go and I’ll take you back home. Eat where you feel comfortable and so you can properly feel your emotions.”

“Huh?” She raised her head, the light mascara that accentuated her eyelashes, now dripping down her cheeks.

“I’m going to go tell the chef to wrap your meal up. Then I’ll take you home,” I continued and I raised my free hand, snapping my fingers to signal we needed assistance. “But don’t worry, I’ll turn around when you walk inside.” I cocked a smile but the comment remained unheard as she continued to cry.

I finally found a waiter and instructed him that we were taking the meal to go. He looked at Y/N with a concerned look but I told him she was alright. But I didn't even know that.

On the walk back to her place, I think I managed to get her to calm down. My hand rubbed at her back as she dipped her head in her hands. I guided her through crowds, instructing her on where to go since her eyes were covered and swollen with tears. A small frown fell on my face despite the red-painted smile I wore so proudly. The face paint I wore was smeared and dripping due to the rain from before. It was continuing to rain but not nearly as frequent and hard as earlier.

I had no idea she was this emotional. It made me feel guilty, even though, as far as I knew, I had nothing to do with why she was crying so much. I hated seeing her so sad. Normally, if it were anyone else apart from her, ridiculing would be my goal. I never cry. Pirates don't cry. But my nose burned with an odd sensation as I helped her up the staircase to her small, run-down building. I blinked rapidly and the feeling went away. Letting out a sigh, I gave Y/N a pat on the back and informed her that we were finally home. Her head raised from the confines of her hands and she revealed a wet, red face with strands of her hair sticking to her skin. A frown stayed on my face. I pulled my hand from her back and dropped the takeaway down on the doorstep. I clenched my teeth together and watched as she fumbled to push the door open. "Here," I whispered, using my foot to nudge it open. It gave way, revealing a disorderly room with an unkempt bed and a woman sleeping under the sheets. It was probably her mother.

"Thank you," Y/N finally spoke, her voice croaking. "I appreciate it, honestly. I'm sorry for ruining your meal."

"Don't apologize. Things are fine. Go eat then get some rest, alright?"

"Yeah, okay." She rubbed her nose and nodded her head. "I'll see you around." Her body twisted and she hunched over to grab the uneaten food. She stepped inside.

"Y/N," I started, stopping her in her steps. She turned around. As I dug through my pocket, I pulled out a few berries, placing them in the palm of her hand. "Take these, okay? It's not a lot but, it should last you a little while."

"What?" She looked in her hand, shaking her head. "Buggy, no, I can't accept this. This is too much."

"Come on, take it. It's okay. You need it more than I do."

"But this is like," She counted the bills in her hands, "forty-three hundred berries... Are you completely sure?"

"Yes, I am," I said with a smile.

"I'm going to pay you back for this, I promise."

"No need."

"No, I want to. Please. I won't take this unless you allow me to repay you for this. Okay?" She slipped the money into her pocket, wiped her palm on the side of her pants, then held it out. "Deal?"

Chuckling to myself, I nodded my head. "Deal." I shook her hand. "Now, come on, go eat. I don't want to take any more of your time."

"Okay, okay," The beautiful girl agreed with a large grin, which was a much better sight than her crying. "Buggy, thank you. Thank you so much." And with those words, she stepped back, gave me a quick wave and a sincere grin, then shut the creaky wooden door behind her.

The sound of the door shutting nearly made me jump. And when I realized I was left all alone, the same sensation in my nose appeared. I gulped and walked down the stairs, now standing on a wooden dock. I hugged my arms and my eyes widened.

Y/N still had my coat.

#buggy #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #buggy x reader #buggy smut #buggy the genius jester #x reader #captain buggy #opla fanart #op buggy #one piece live action #one piece buggy #opla buggy

438 notes · View notes

writtenfangirl · 9 months

Note

I would love to see more Charles lecerc from you, the way you write him is so good. Maybe him trying to convince his girlfriend to move to Monaco with him and it’s all sweet and cute

Treasured Memories

Charles is literally so fine. I could stare at his face all day and not get tired of it. And it really doesn't help that his personality seems just as fine as his face.

I know his native language is French and not Italian but I always thought it would be so cute if I had a boyfriend who could speak a lot of languages and he chooses to call me a term of endearment in a different language than his native tongue.

Fic's only about 2100 words so enjoy!

Part 2

Charles Leclerc has and always will be a determined man.

He wasn’t the kind of person who rested unless he got what he wanted and he did whatever it takes to get the things he wants.

Whether through his sheet grit, his determination, his talent or the bountiful resources that his family fought tooth and nail to give him, Charles did everything and anything to succeed.

It’s how he won the F2 championship in his first and only season, how he won rookie of the year during his debut with Sauber and why he was signed by the oldest and most respected team on the grid before he had even reached his second year as a Formula One driver.

He rarely ever heard the word no. And when he did, he always knew how to turn it into a yes.

So when he had asked his girlfriend of three years, Y/N Y/L/N, to move in with him, he hadn’t been expecting her rejection.

“Move in with me, amore,” Charles said, his voice cutting through the loud speakers that were playing Harry Potter’s orchestral theme song.

It was one of those rare days when neither Charles nor Y/N were off somewhere else around the world. With the season reaching their summer break and Y/N requesting time off from work to spend time with him, Charles and Y/N had opted to stay in Charles’ apartment and simply relax together. He wasn’t usually one for a lazy day but because he rarely ever got to spend time with his girlfriend, it was easy to forget about his training and his work outs and team strategy building for the day. It was even easier to forget those things when she was peacefully leaning against him, her eyes glued to the TV screen that was playing the first Harry Potter movie as their bodies were protected from the frigid air conditioning with a cozy blanket.

Charles felt Y/N tense before she pulled herself away from him, her weight supported by her arm as her attention shifted to Charles. Harry Potter was just about to tell Draco Malfoy off for being mean to Ronald Weasley and Charles knew it was one of Y/N’s favorite scenes. But she’d forgotten about it as she processed Charles’s simple request.

The words hung in the air and Charles paused the TV before the scene could progress further. He also knew that Y/N would make him rewind back to the scene if she had missed it.

“What did you just say?” Y/N said slowly, her eyes focused on Charles.

“Y/N, move in with me.”

He fully expected her jubilant shouts or even a wonderful kiss of happiness followed by an ecstatic “yes!” but Y/N did none of those things. Instead she said a very emphatic, “No…”

“No?”

“No…”

Charles wasn’t exactly stung by the rejection. He was more surprised if anything. He couldn’t understand why she would say no. They had been together three years. It seemed like the most natural course of action for Y/N to move in with him, the next step to bring their relationship to newer heights.

“Why don’t you want to move in with me, amore?” Charles asked.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Charles. I mean, I moved to Monaco just a year ago. Now you’re asking me to move in with you.”

She did have a point. Y/N did leave London to live in Monaco but she had justified the move because it was better for her career.

She was an international correspondent for the BBC, which meant she was often sent to different countries around the world. After Brexit, it became harder for her to travel around Europe and, at the time, moving to Monaco was the sensible response.

Being able to see Charles more often was just the added bonus.

“But amore,” Charles protested, “you practically live here already. You have clothes in my closet and skincare in my bathroom. You even have keys here. You see my family so often, maman and my brothers think you’re an honorary Leclerc. I don’t see the problem with you moving in.”

“What about my lease?”

“I’ll pay for the rest of it.” He deadpanned. “You’re landlord is terrible, amore.”

Y/N winced. He got her there. Her landlord really was terrible. There was always something broken in her apartment, whether it was a broken heater in the middle of winter, a leaky faucet in her kitchen sink, a toilet that refused to flush or a TV that only played static, it took her landlord months to fix those things. It’s why Charles had given Y/N keys to his apartment in the first place. If something went wrong, she could always spend the night. But things went wrong so often that for the past six months, Y/N spent five months living in Charles’ apartment rather than her own.

Not that he was particularly complaining.

He loved having Y/N around.

Y/N’s schedule was just as hectic as his was, likely even more so. She always had three suitcases packed and ready to go just in case she had to leave at a moment’s notice. The rare moments when Y/N came straight to his apartment after a tiring assignment and Charles had been home to greet her were highlights of their relationship. He wanted her to come home to him. And the even rarer moments when he came home to her after his own hectic schedule? Those were memories he etched in his mind forever so he could relive them in his dreams.

“What about my space,” Y/N added. “I work from home a lot and I don’t have a space here to work.”

Fully expecting this, Charles’ next words were unhurried and reassuring. “I’ve already planned it. I can move my simulator and my gaming consoles in the living room. There’s plenty of space here. You can use the game room as your office. I even installed speakers there because I know you like to listen to Taylor Swift while you work.”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot straight up, causing Charles to grin. “Wow,” she said, mildly impressed. “You really have thought of everything.”

He did think about everything. He didn’t want to give her a reason to say no and the only way he could guarantee she’ll say yes was if Charles handled everything so that Y/N didn’t have to put in any effort. She always hated moving and he knew he would have to move mountains and cross seas just to ensure that Y/N would say yes and so he did just that.

He tried his best not to sound so smug. “Oui. All you have to do is say yes. You don’t have to lift a finger. I’ll call the movers and plan everything and your things could be here by tomorrow if you wanted.”

And yet Charles could see the hesitation in her eyes. Something was holding her back. He knew his girlfriend enough to know that what’s holding her back wasn’t any trivial reason. This was something big.

“What’s making you say no?” He asked patiently.

“Alright,” Y/N said at the question, her hesitation vanishing and steely determination filling her features. “Do you really know why I don’t want to move in with you? You might not like what I say.”

Charles nodded. He wanted nothing more than to know what horrible reason could possibly be stopping the love of his life from living with him so he could find a way to stop it.

“I’ve noticed a pattern with you, Charles.”

He pulled his brows into a frown. “A pattern?”

“Yes, babe. A pattern. You once told me that in your previous relationships, the love and magic between you two ended when they moved in.”

“What?”

“When you and Giada were together and she moved in, things ended between you two after a year. With Charlotte, it was two. Alexandra had six months. I love you, Charles, in a way that I had never loved anyone before. I don’t want things to end between us.”

He blinked at her once. Twice.

Y/N had always been blunt but she was never unfeeling. She looked as though she wanted to snatch the words from the air and shove it back in herself if she could. “Charles, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to off—”

Charles’ sharp bark of laughter interrupted her.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise as laughter shook his body, the sounds coming out from him echoing in the living room.

Her lips pulled into a frown as she took one of the pillows that rested on the couch and hit him with it. “It’s not funny, Charles!”

“I’m sorry!” He howled, not sounding sorry at all as his laughter choked the words from him, leaving him gasping for breath. Tears were beginning to collect in his eyes, further frustrating his girlfriend.

With a growl, Y/N hit him with the pillow again. Charles couldn’t even register the thump of the pillow with how hard he was laughing.

“Y/N, it’s not funny,” he managed to get out as he laughed. He clutched midsection, his stomach beginning to cramp from how hard herwas laughing.

“Then stop laughing!”

“I can’t!”

“If you’re going to be that way, then fine!” Y/N pushed away the blankets that covered them and began to stand up. Instantly, Charles sobered up, his hand shooting forward to grab Y/N’s arm, pulling her to him. She landed on a heap on his lap, her hair tickling his nose, the scent of her shampoo enveloping him as he threaded his arms around her body and placed a kiss on her cheek.

She huffed, rolling her eyes in annoyance, causing Charles to chuckle at her. Another kiss on her cheek and Y/N’s annoyed expression softened. “Y/N,” he said gently, “why would you worry about that?”

“Because,” she whispered, her previous annoyance vanishing like smoke, “usually what happens in almost every relationship is that the little traits that we once thought were cute and endearing about the other person become things we hate. I love that you ask me to cook for you whenever I’m at home but what if one day I wake up and I start to hate that about you. I don’t want that to happen.”

“You are being so silly, amore. That won’t ever happen to us.”

“How do you know that.”

“Because I’ve known you for so long and but I still find new things about you to love everyday. Even the things I don’t like about you, I love. And I love those things about you because I love you. Besides, of my past relationships you’re the girl I’m most compatible with. Every chore you don’t like to do, I like doing.” He said the words with a self-satisfied smirk. “You have no reason to say no. So say yes.”

“So long as you’re absolutely, 100 percent sure you want this.”

This time, Charles’ expression could only be referred to as serious. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I love you, Y/N. I want to spend forever with you and I can only do that if you let me. So please let me.”

“Oh,” Y/N sighed as a smile pulled at her lips, “you Frenchies and your romantic words.”

“Monegasque, amore!” Charles sputtered and this time, it was Y/N’s turn to laugh.

“I’m just teasing, babe. You’ll have to get used to it since I’m going to be moving in.”

His arms squeezed her tighter, pressing her against him at her words. “You mean it? You’ll move in? You cannot take it back if you say yes, amore. I won’t let you.”

Y/N’s smile could only be described as incandescent. “Yes. I’ll move in. I’ll move anywhere so long as it’s with you.”

And just like that, what was once a normal, pleasant day, was now another treasured memory. He couldn’t imagine anything more amazing than hearing Y/N’s yes. And if he felt this way about her agreeing to move in, he could only imagine how he’d feel when she’d give him her yes after his proposal.

But his impending proposal to the woman he now knows to be the love of his life was another matter entirely. Right now, he wanted to bask in the moment and he couldn’t think of a better way to do that than by laying on his—their—couch, watching their favorite films and holding the girl of his dreams.

#charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #formula 1 #fomula one #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #ferrari

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ngayawneluoer · 1 year

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we seek revenge

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ neteyam x reader (past), neytiri x reader (platonic), tbh mostly just a spider hate fic, if you like spider you’re prolly not gonna like this lol

Time doesn't seem to heal the wound of losing you mate, and when the sky people return and you learn the truth, no one can stop you from seeking revenge. Set a year after the events of ATWOW.

word count: 1700

a/n: pov you and neytiri form a spider hate club and beat his ass (sort of)

Even a year later, every breath you took without Neteyam felt like eternal punishment. Every moment you felt the loss of your mate and every step you took without him was only a reminder that you would never feel whole again. Every day, you suffered and mourned the pair you could have been and the life you could have lived, and every night you prayed that Eywa would bring him back or take you with him. But it was never that simple.

And so, you busied yourself with the daily tasks of the Metkayina, your head held high and your face unwavering. At least you had Neytiri, who never seemed to leave your side since her son's death. You mourned, suffered, and cried together, and as time passed, you helped each other get back on your feet and brave the world. To her, you were one final living piece of her son, his other half and the one he loved most, and she couldn't help but love you in turn. She had become like a mother to you, and whilst you knew you would never be able to replace Neteyam, your shared memories of him brought you closer together. And obviously, you bore the whole Sully family in your heart, but you and Neytiri had developed a special bond through the pain you shared and the rage you held for the sky demons that had so mercilessly killed the one you loved.

Another thing you shared with Neytiri was the wariness you felt towards Spider, who Jake had wholly accepted into the family following Neteyam's death. You had grown up around him, but being nothing more than a regular Omatikaya with almost no interaction with humans, you never were the most comfortable with him. The emotion had only doubled after his 'father' brought about the war that killed your beloved. Those around you started accepting him, but you kept your distance, as did Neytiri. You couldn't find it in your hearts to forgive him.

“(Y/N)! Come swim with us!"

The voice broke your train of thought, and you looked up from the bracelet you were weaving. From where you sat next to Neytiri, your eyes found Kiri waving at you from amongst the group of Na'vi youths splashing about in the water. You noticed Spider was there too, practically clinging to her side like a pathetic dog. You tried not to roll your eyes.

"No thank you, Kiri," You answered loud enough for her to hear, trying your hardest to mask the venom in your voice, "Later."

A sad pout graced her face for a mere second, and you knew what was coming. You usually rejected her offers, and she would rarely take no for an answer, opting instead to drag you into the group and make it so that you had no choice but to participate. Sometimes she would even send Tuk to guilt trip you into joining with those adorable eyes of hers, knowing you could never say no to Tuk.

You knew Kiri meant well; she simply saw you pull away and didn't want you to feel left out. Lucky for you, this time she was distracted by Rotxo pulling her tail, and she forgot all about her usual routine of demanding you to join. Better this way. You wouldn't have enjoyed yourself anyway.

Neytiri looked up from the arrow she was crafting, a somewhat curious look on her face. She spoke quietly, deliberately to keep the conversation private from possible overhearers, "I don't see you with those your age lately," her fingers continued crafting, but her focus was still on you, awaiting an answer. Finally, when your gaze didn't shift from where it was fixed onto your hands, she continued, "I cannot be your only friend."

You sighed softly, eyes brimming with tears that you were afraid would spill if you met her gaze, "I do not... want to see him," you knew she knew who you meant from the way you spat out the word as if it was poison on your tongue, "it hurts too much."

You finally bit the bullet and looked up at her, only to find her gaze looking off into the distance, following the human boy you were referring to. Her features twisted into anger as if in the process of a hiss, "He shouldn't be here. He should be with his kind."

"I agree," you started, but didn't know what else to say. There was nothing you could do.

Neytiri hesitated for a second but eventually uttered the words you had a feeling swirled through her mind every day, "I... cannot help but blame him. He is not just a child. He is a demon's child. He will bring nothing but trouble... But I cannot bring it up with anyone but you."

You could tell from how she spoke that she had had this conversation before. You wondered if this was a frequent argument she had with Jake, who was so adamant about accepting Spider into their family.

"I don't understand how they can so easily accept him. I know he is not responsible for his father's actions, but…." you trailed off at a loss for words. But what? You weren't sure where you were going with this. And with Spider so close by, you were hesitant to confess the hatred you held for him simply due to his heritage out loud.

Neytiri understood though. She always did.

She dropped the arrow she was crafting from her hand and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into her side to comfort you, "You are not alone. I see you."

You leaned into her motherly touch, revelling in the comfort she provided, "I see you."

But comfort never seemed to last for your kind. The sky people returned, led by the man that didn't seem to die. Your people fought his soldiers bravely, some winning, some losing, but you could safely say you had done more damage to them than they had to you.

"How many times do we have to kill you!" You heard Jake hiss from somewhere, but you were too preoccupied with fighting off the armed soldier in front of you. With a final swift move, you drove your dagger into the avatar soldier's neck, your fangs bared in a hiss as blood sprayed across your face. Briskly, you sheathed your blade into its scabbard and let the body drop, turning back to the dying battle. The sky people were retreating. They were cowards and had finally realised they were severely underprepared. They would be back, they always were, but you revelled in the fact that you didn't die at their hand today.

One of them remained, however. To everyone's shock, Quaritch in the flesh had shown up. He stood proudly with a gun pointed at Jake - Jake pointing one back - knowing that the mere fact that he was alive was rubbing salt in the wound. His return brought back memories of your previous battle with him, and you snarled; eyes focused on the conniving man that stood before you. A thick metal cable fell from the sky behind him, undoubtedly how he would make his escape into the helicopter above. You wouldn't allow it.

As you advanced, you heard Jake hiss again, "How are you alive?"

Quaritch only smirked, attaching himself to the cable, "The answer is simple, Jake. I am, and always will be, better than you," His gaze left Jake and switched to someone far behind you all, and he winked. "Thanks for the save, kid."

…What?

Your blood froze and your muscles tensed, barely registering the sound of the Colonel escaping. It felt like the world had stilled; everyone around you was frozen and unable to breathe as they processed the words that had been spoken mere seconds ago.

You could barely process the faces that surrounded you as you slowly turned, following the direction of where the Colonel had been looking. You should have known.

The world around you disappeared, voices echoing as you could barely hear them over the sound of your own heartbeat. All you knew was the pure anger rushing through your veins and the pathetic human boy standing a few meters away in your line of sight. His eyes met yours. You had never seen such pure, primal terror in anyone's eyes before.

"What did he mean?" You seethed, voice muted as your features twisted in anger. You began taking steps towards Spider, which seemed to trigger Kiri into holding you back.

"(Y/N), wait," She grabbed your arm to try to hold you back, muttering something about how you should relax and how it could have been a misunderstanding, but you snatched your arm back. You knew what you heard.

"Speak!" You screamed, making Spider flinch. He remained quiet, seemingly unable to defend himself, "You saved that man?"

"I.." Spider began taking a step back but came to a sudden halt as he heard the subtle sound of the pull of a bow. Your gaze flickered behind him for just a second, and you saw Neytiri with an arrow pointed straight at his head, a snarl as equally vicious as yours on her face.

"Neytiri, no!" "Mother, please don't hurt him!"

You and Neytiri barely registered the voices.

You took another step forward, your figure towering over Spider.

"That man is responsible for Neteyam's death," Your voice shook and your tail flicked behind you with anger as you spoke - everyone seemed to fall quiet, "And you saved him?"

Spider had the intelligence to keep quiet, at least. Unfortunately, what he didn't have was the courage to look you in the eye.

"Look at me when I speak to you!" You screamed, startling Spider. His head tilted up, and his fearful eyes met yours. His face was scrunched with pain and guilt, but it meant nothing to you. "He went back for you! He wanted to save you! He died because of you!"

You unsheathed your dagger, the dry blood on its sharp blade a symbol of the fate the boy in front of you would face.

"And you will die because of me."

a/n: If we don’t get a scene of Neytiri killing Spider’s ass in Avatar 3 I will sue

p.s I made an ask box request things pls and ty

#neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #avatar x reader #neytiri x reader #avatar the way of water #my fics˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

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ohtobeleah · 4 months

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Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Six:: [Conflict & Chaos]

Summary: As panic consumes Jake after finding out about your current medical condition, Jake calls your mother to fill in the gaps. Nurse Lydia escapes being taken to her supervisor and Jake lets loose on his mother who tries to stop him from leaving.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Overbearing mothers.

Word Count: 4.4K

Author Note: Okay Sick!wifey maybe there is another guy. Or not, who knows. My guess is a platonic friendship that will ultimately end in heartbreak.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

November 2nd

“You look like you've just been told you’re dying?” It was a voice you didn't recognise that pulled you out of the bottomless pit of worry you'd fallen into as you sat on the edge of the raised garden bed just outside your doctor's office. “It's okay, you were probably just told that so it's alright to look like your whole world’s just been flipped on its head.” The man shrugged as he came to sit beside you with his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

“Sorry, sorry–” You shook your head as you wiped your tears and dried your face, probably as patchy and puffy as ever. “Are you a doctor here?”

“Me?” the man smiled as he pointed to his chest with a scoff. “Oh no, no I'm uh–I’m a patient I guess.” The man corrected you as he watched you try to fix yourself up. Before you knew it there was a tissue being held out of you to take.

“Thanks.” You smiled softly with gratitude and accepted the tissue the man wouldn't be wanted back anytime soon.

“No problem.” He nodded. “I saw you come out of Doctor Parsons' office, she's got a pretty rough gig don't you reckon?”

“I'll say.” You agreed, Doctor Parsons probably wanted to go into her profession to help people, but nowadays all it seemed like was she was dishing out hard to swallow diagnoses. “You’re a patent of hers too?”

“Unfortunately, Pancreatic– what about you?” The man asked as you tried to wrap your head around the idea of exchanging diagnosis with another human being.

“I uh–I was just told I have breast cancer.” This complete stranger was the first person you told, before you mum, before your ex husband, before your kids or extended family. This stranger who was sitting next to you outside your local doctors office was the first person beside your doctor to know you had cancer, that your cells were dying–that you were, in fact, dying.

“Oh yeah? What's the going rate for that one?” This all seemed too normal, too calm to be talking about. It wasn't the reaction you'd ever expected although you weren't really thinking about how people would react. “Sorry, I'm being too nosy.” The man beside you reached out and extended his hand towards you. “I’m Jensen, I don't mean to pry, it's just I don't see an awful lot of young people come into this particular doctors office and when I saw you rush out like your world had just been rocked I couldn't help but to follow you out here.” Jensen smiled as you shook his hand. “I'm also incredibly self aware of how creepy that sounds, so again, I'm sorry.”

“No no–” You chuckled as you let go of Jensen's hand. “It's okay, it's just uh, fresh I guess, like ten minutes ago fresh.” You tried to explain the best you could. “Y/n, my names Y/n–”

“Damn Y/n that's hot off the press–” Jesne pressed his lips together in a fine line, he understood what it was like to feel the crushing weight of the world on your chest. He was only in for a chat with doctor Parsons the day he met you. “Listen, in the hopes of not being too forward, can I give you my number?” He asked with a caution laced between his words, ready for rejection. “Not in a, I'd like to take you out sometime, although I wouldn't be opposed.” You had to stop yourself from looking as shocked as you were. Were you really being picked up out the front of a doctor's surgery? “But in more of an I understand what you’re going through kinda way and if you ever need an ear to vent to about the not so glamorous journey you're about to go on, I'd very much like to be that person for you, I always wished I had someone when I first started my battle.”

“Uh, yeah–” You couldn't help but to smile through the dried tears on your face. “Sure, yeah that sounds really nice actually.” WHen you unlocked your phone the realisation that Jake, your ex husband, had been the last person you called dawned on you. He didn't know, he could never know. He wouldn't care enough to want to know. And yet here this stranger was, willing and ready to listen. “And for the record maybe when the dust settles I wouldn't be opposed to the idea either.”

***~***~***~***~***~

“I vow to be your faithful partner in sickness, and in health.” Jake could hear your vow’s ringing out inside his mind as he raced around his childhood bedroom getting his stuff packed to leave. Your voice sounded as if you were standing right before him, plaguing his mind with haunting memories of promises he’d failed to keep.

“I promise to love you unconditionally, to honor and respect you, and bring you solace in times of need.” Your voice was like a hauntingly beautiful memory reminding him of the vows you’d promised each other on your wedding day, right after his father had told him that happiness was essentially a hallmark card scam. Jake could hardly focus as he tried to compose himself enough to just think about what was going on for a second—but then his own voice echoed around in his mind, the voice of his former self who hadn’t yet ruined his marriage spoke up through the darkness of his fuzzy and fragile mind.

“I take you for better or worse, in sickness and in health, in chaos and conflict, through heaven and hell.” Jake felt an anger so deep and overwhelming that he stood from his twin bed and walked a few quick paces across his room to where his closest door was. The animalistic growl that left his body when Jake slammed his fist into the wooden door woke his mother who was sleeping soundly a room or two down the hall. She hadn’t been woken so abruptly like that in years. Not since her children were young adolescence.

With his busted hand and a pain in his chest he could only describe as emotional turmoil, Jake stumbled back over to his bed and picked up his discarded phone. He mulled over the decision for a few seconds before he went through his contacts to find probably the only woman who could give him more of the story.

Your mother, Mary O’Riley. Or as Jake affectionately called her for the better half of your relationship, Maz.

Jake's thumb lingered over her contact for a few seconds before he decided that yes, yes he needed more information. He needed someone to tell him this was all just some sick fucked up prank. He needed someone to tell him that you were in fact, alright, and that you weren’t lying in a hospital bed right now, without him there to hold your hand and tell you everything would be okay.

He’d promised you in sickness and in health.

Jake listened with anticipation and dread as the phone rang against his ear. It rang and rang and rang until finally at the very last second she could—your mother picked up the phone while she sat at your bedside.

“Jacob—“ He heard her coo into the speaker. “You—“

“Tell me she’s not sick Maz.” Was all Jake said. It was stern and filled with heartbreak. “Please, tell me right now that she’s not in the hospital right now.” Your mother could tell Jake was holding back tears through gritted teeth as she turned her head over to the nurses station to see Lydia almost hyperventilating over her mistake. “Maz! FUCKING TELL ME MY WIFE DOESNT HAVE BREAST CANCER!”

The sudden outburst made your mum jump nearly out of her seat as she pulled her phone slightly away from her ear, but it didn’t surprise her. Jake loved you so much, it was only natural he’d be in a state of shock finding out the way he had.

“Jake, sweetheart, I need you to sit down for me.” Mary cooed softly with a sincere expression of empathy. “Please, just sit down and I’ll explain what’s going on.”

***~***~***~***~***~

Lydia had never felt more stressed in her very short lived career. Once she had hung up the phone with who she now knew was probably your ex husband, Lydia's immediate plan was to come clean to your mum as she sat by your bedside. Luckily, your condition post op was pretty good all things considered and instead of taking up another room in the ICU, your surgeon said that it would be best for your recovery to be placed back in the room you would see out the next few weeks of chemotherapy in. There was no escaping the oncology ward, not even a stroke could save you as it seamned.

“Miss O’Riley?” Lydia’s voice shook as she walked into your hospital room to see you sleeping in a drugged out haze of pain relief post op. You weren't expected to be awake for another few hours or so to allow your brain time to rest. “I need to speak with you for a moment, if you have a second.” All of this was going on around you without your knowledge. And quite frankly you wouldn't have wanted to know anyway– I mean, who really wants to be told that their nurse accidentally rang your husband and violated your privacy accidently? Certainly not you.

“Is something wrong with my daughter?” Your mother asked as she held your hand, watching at the monitor told her you were stable, that your heart was beating and that you, despite the odds, would survive another day.

“No, no, your daughter seemed to be responding well post surgery–” Lydia's voice still shook with nervousness for the reaction her actions would invoke. “It's just that I’ve uh–” Lydia was only young, she had so much left to give to the healthcare industry, one mistake couldn’t end her career before it had even started could it? “I accidentally called your daughter's husband, I automatically assumed he would be her emergency contact because he was listed as her husband and–” Lydia tried to get her explanation out as quickly as she possibly could before your mother had a chance to speak. “I'm so sorry, I told him about her current medical condition.”

“Oh god.” Your mother groaned as she looked back to where you laid peacefully unaware that Jake now knew about your whereabouts and health status. “She didn't want him to know, at least not yet anyway.” Your mother explained as she sighed and ran her hands over her face.

“I'm so sorry, I just assumed and before I knew he was asking what the hell I was even talking about and then I looked further down the page and saw that you were listed as her emergency contact.” Lydia was currently seeing her entire career flash before her eyes. All your mother had to do was request to speak to her supervisor, request that she report she violated HIPAA, but she didn't. Your mother simply nodded and accepted the fact a young girl who was only just starting out had made a mistake wasn't life threatening.

“It's alright, just uh, he’s going to come, if I know that man he's going to be on the first flight here so as my daughters medically proxy, can you please adjust her visiting list and add Jake Seresin to the list.” Your mother knew Jake would be calling any minute now and that he knew there was no vacation away. Now that he knew what was going on. Mary fished her phone out of her handbag and sat it on your bedside table in anticipation. She was almost going to set a timer just to see how long it would take her son in law to call.

“You–you aren't going to report me?” Lydia was at this point, in tears. She was so overwhelmed that she could barely see. Your mother felt sympathy for the young woman and really didn't want to be a part of whatever reprimanding could come of a simple mistake. So, she simply shook her head, looked back at her phone for a fleeting moment before she turned to look at you and finally back to Lydia who couldn't have been more thankful for the words that came out of your mothers mother.

“No dear, no I'm not going to report you, mistakes happen–” Your mother pressed her lips together in a fine line as she reached up to touch your cheek with the pad of her thumb. “My daughter knows that all too well.”

***~***~***~***~***~

“Please, just sit down and I’ll explain what’s going on.” Jake listened to what Maz had said and he did what he was told. He had always respected your mum and her natural born wisdom that Jake clung to through the time he had known her. “Are you sitting down?”

“Yeah, yeah i'm sittin.’”

“Jake–” Maz sighed heavily into the phone. “Back in november when Y/n called you about taking the kids for christmas she was sitting in her doctors office.” Jake didn't speak, he listened carefully to every word your mother spoke. His head was spinning as his heart raced. Tears streamed down his cheeks as the realisation set in. “She’d just been told she has a very aggressive form of breast cancer– stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma.”

“Wh-why didn't she just tell me?” Jake knew that the two of you had never been more divided in your marriage, but he always thought that if you were sick to this level, that you'd call and he’d come running. Come hell or high water Jake was going back to Rhode Island to be with you.

“That's a question you’ll just have to ask her.” Your mother replied. “But she's not alone, I'm with her right now, she uh–had a stroke only about an hour after she’d been admitted to oncology, good thing we were already in the hospital when it happened or else it could have been a hell of a lot worse.”

“Maz–” Jake croaked out. “I don't know what I'm supposed to do.” He cried softly into the phone, it broke your mothers heart. “Tell me what I'm supposed to do.” He wasn't asking if he should get a ticket on the next flight out, no. No Maz knew exactly what Jake was asking her and again, it wasn't a question she held the answers to.

“You just have to show up for her.” Was all your mother was able to say. “I dont have the answers this time Sweetheart, I’m not sure how to fix what's broken between the two of you, but I wanna know how soon you can get here–” Your mother paused as she tried to hold back her own tears. “She's not in a good way, she needs her husband Jake, she needs you here.”

Jake remembered that phone call, the one where you initially asked him to take the kids for christmas. He should have asked more questions, should have pressed you a little harder for information. Maybe, just maybe if he did back then, you would have crumbled and told him the truth.

“I'll be there as soon as I can Maz, consider me on the next available flight.”

***~***~***~***~***~

in sickness and in health, in chaos and conflict. It was the only thing Jake could tell himself over and over again as he walked down the large staircase of his parents place. in sickness and in health, in chaos and conflict. Jake had one thing and only one thing on his mind, getting back to you.

“Jacob?” Jake froze as he got to the bottom of the staircase, his mother stood at the top, dressing gown pulled snug against her as she folded her arms across her chest and frowned down at her grown adult son. “What’s going on? It’s almost four in the morning?”

“I just got off the phone with Maz—“ Jake explained as he watched his mum walk down the stairs, her eyes tired from a restless sleep. Having a home full of children and grandchildren didn’t help. “Y/n’s really sick, she’s uh—“ Jake wasn’t sure he wanted his mother to know about your diagnosis before he’d truly had a chance to process it himself. So, he didn’t divulge. “In the hospital, I just need to get back.”

“Get back?” Janeen frowned in displeasure at her son's decision to leave. “What do you mean get back, you only just got here.”

“My wife’s in the hospital Ma, I need to go and make sure she’s alright.” Jake didn’t think he’d have to spell it out, but he did. “I promised her in sickness and in health, unfortunately she’s taken a turn for the worse and she’s at the very least right now the mother of my children, so I need to go and be with her and figure out what’s going on.”

“Y/n is a grown woman who can take care of herself.” Janeen reached up to touch Jake's cheek, however, before she could run the pad of her thumb across Jake's scruffed cheek, he pulled away in anger. “She decided that when she left you? Or don’t you remember what that woman put you through?”

“Ma.” Jake clenched his jaw under the dim light of the main foyer. “I love you, I do, but you need to stop disrespecting her.”

“Disrespecting her?” Jake's mother scoffed as she watched him pick up his duffel bag and head towards the front door. “What about the disrespect she showed this family? The disrespect she showed you when she was unfaithful to her wedding vows and left you! She took your kids away from your Jacob and what? You’re running back to her the second she gets a runny nose?” Jake was holding his tongue between his teeth as his mother followed him out to the cars, he’d already called a taxi. “Honestly I never in a million years thought you’d settle for someone so—“

“MUM!” Jake snapped abruptly, he wasn’t proud of raising his voice with the woman who raised him, gave him life, but my god did she need to back off. “SHUT, THE HELL, UP!” Jake hissed as he saw headlights coming up the drive. “I’m leaving my children here until I figure out what’s going on but so help me god if I get back and your attitude hasn’t done a full three sixty about my wife, the love of my life, you will never see her, or our kids, or me, again!”

Janeen remained silent as she watched the taxi Jake had called pull up to where they were standing. She watched with teary eyes as he threw his bag into the back seat and greeted the driver kindly. He was an older gentleman. Probably mid sixties.

“I will call you when I know more but you have to stop degrading her, I’m the one who drove her away.” Jake had wanted to say this since the first comment his mother ever made about you way back in January just after he’d told her the two of you were separating. Jake took his mother in his arms, he towered over the smaller built woman with graying hair. He let his chin rest on the top of her head and didn’t hold back.

“Just because you never had the courage to leave dad when he stopped loving you the way he should doesn’t mean you get to project your pity on my wife for doing what you always wished you should have.” Jake had never felt such a weight lifted off his chest and immediately knew that the chances of him being invited back for next years Seresin family Christmas was probably a long shot. “You should ask Jasmine about her new nanny.” Jake finished as he pulled away. “I heard she's a really good people pleasure.”

***~***~***~***~***~

“Ordinary streets, Extraordinary stories.” Jake read over your shoulder as you jotted down some ideas for your latest project. “Huh, I like that, it's sorta catchy.” He smiled softly against your cheek before leaving a gentle kiss in his wake. His eyes lingered down to your book proposal for your publisher and continued reading as you sat at your desk, glued to your laptop like a woman on an impossible mission against time. “This collection of stories centers on the idea of ‘accidental death’ and the upheaval caused in the lives of those who lost a loved one in this way.” Jake read outloud over your shoulder in the dimly lit office. “I'm starting to think I should sleep with the lights on at night.”

“One eye open will do.” You mumbled back as you re-read your last sentence and continued on typing like your husband wasn't trying to coax you away from your work. “I have a deadline to meet, so shoo fly, don't bother me.” You teased as Jake moved your hair to one side and began to kiss the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Seduction was usually his strong suit.

It was no shock to Jake that almost immediately out of college you started writing non-stop about the things you were most passionate about. He thought you'd stick it out and become some wildly successful fiction novelist. Perhaps lean into your fascination with dystopian hierarchy, but no. You really came out of the left field when you picked up a publishing gig to write and publish not one, but three true crime biographies. The little bookshop on firth you worked at were so overjoyed for you when you’d told them the big news.

“You are working yourself to the bone, Honey.” Jake replied softly as his hands trailed down your stomach to feel the small but swelling baby bump that was growing bigger by the day.

“Says the guy still in his flight suit–” You fired right back without taking your eyes off the screen of your laptop. Your fingers worked fast to type the thoughts in your mind onto the screen before they were forgotten. If you let your mind wander too far away you'd lose your momentum. “Jake, I need to finish this chapter before bed.”

“No, no, what you need Hon, is to close your laptop and follow me to where I've run you a bath for your surely aching muscles, swollen feet and to ward off that impending cold I know you're coming down with.” Jake caught the way your fingers froze across the keys of your laptop at his thoughtful words, you hadn’t even mentioned feeling under the weather yet. “I heard you sniffling while cooking dinner–thought I better be proactive and try help you sweat it out.”

You felt the heat in your cheeks rising as a smile crept across your face. You looked down at the ring on your left ring finger and tried not to cry. You could have blamed it on the raging pregnancy hormones from the twin Seresin babies currently using your body as a host, but you knew it was just the overwhelming love you felt.

“You ran me a bath?” It was something you didn't know you needed until Jake had mentioned it.

“Not to toot my own horn or nothin but I lit your favorite candles too, even went as far as to put a few rose petals in the bubbles.” Jake watched as you spun around in your chair to face him with big teary eyes and an even bigger baby bump. “Gotta look after my girl, can't have the mother of my children feeling sick, now can I?”

“I'm intrigued to see what kind of special treatment I'll receive if I'm ever really unwell if this is what I'm getting for a runny nose.” You teased as Jake helped you up off your work chair. His hand went straight to the small of your back to guide you out of the study down the hall towards the bathroom where he had everything set and sorted for you.

“Hopefully we never get to the point where you're chronically ill.” Jake kissed your temple as he walked with you. “Never wanna see you sicker than a cold.” He explained as your eyes went wide with wonder and ore at the sight of your bathroom fully lit with candles. “But trust that I'll be right by your side, holding your hand through whatever may come.”

“You really didn't have to do all this for me.” You sighed as Jake started to help you undress. You watched him with love filled eyes through the mirror as his hands roamed your body, stripping articles of clothing from your pregnant silhouette.

“Nonsense, I'll always do things like this for you.” Jake shrugged it off like his actions were no big deal. To him at that moment they really weren't, he was just trying to help wherever he could. “But you should probably wake up now–”

“What do you mean?” A slow steady beeping broke through your mind as your body began to feel numb. “Jake—“ You frowned as the bathroom faded around you. “Jake?” You called out as you felt yourself feeling heavy and lethargic. “Jake—?”

“Sweetheart can you hear me?” Your mother asked as your surgeon tried to assess your ability to open your eyes. The small light that was shining in your eyes did little to cure your confusion.

“Jake?” You asked again as your eyes fluttered open, you groaned softly in annoyance to the light of the hospital room you woke up in. “Where’s Jake?” Everything was so blurry, so confusing, the last thing you remembered was getting ready for a bath, now you where here in a hospital room.

“He’s not here Sweetheart, do you remember what happened?” When you didn’t answer your doctor interjected to jog your memory.

“You had a minor stroke Mrs Seresin, lucky for you you were already on sight when it happened—do you remember why you’re here?” As you looked around at the Christmas lights that now decorated your hospital room and the small Christmas tree in the corner on the coffee table near the old recliner, you remembered.

“Oh.” That’s right you thought to yourself, you were separated. Jake didn’t care, not anymore. He’d stopped running baths for you years ago. “Oh, yeah—I remember.” You whispered before a single tear ran down your face.

“I remember everything.”

***~***~***~***~***

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