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vivwritesfics · 7 months

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Sweat, Baby, Sweat - MV1

Singapore is hot, incredibly hot. So, what do you do when you sweat through your shirt? You borrow your simp of a teammates shirt.

Max Verstappen x RB Driver!Reader

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Singapore was Y/Ns favourite track. It was taxing, but it was her favourite. High adrenaline and incredible heat. Anything could happen out there on the track.

If anywhere was going to end Red Bulls reign of dominance, it was Singapore. Y/N L/N and Max Verstappen had worked together, teammates in harmony, to keep the winning streak going.

On the rare instance Max wasn't on the podium, Y/N was in his place. More often than not they shared the podium, spraying the champagne with the biggest grins on their faces.

Only twice that year Y/N had gone out in Q2, not making it to Q3. When that happened, she couldn't face Christian, couldn't look at Max. Nobody was a bigger critic of Y/N than Y/N herself.

Singapore was hot, hot, hot.

As Max and Y/N did those little press videos (for the life of me I can't remember what they're called SOMEONE HELP PLS) Y/N was sweating. Several times while they filmed, she was pulling her shirt away from her neck, trying to get at least a little bit of air.

Sweat beaded on her forehead. She had long since taken off her Red Bull hat, too hot for that extra fabric on her head.

The press video was hard to get through. Y/N had gotten through at least three bottles of water before they finally finished. While they filmed, Max kept looking at her, frown on his face. Clearly, he was concerned.

Actually, all of the Red Bull team was concerned, but none more than him.

As soon as they'd finished filming, Y/N ran off to the bathroom. She did her business, splashed some water on her face and smelt the inside of her shirt.

It wasn't pleasant. The Red Bull shirt was such dark colours, no wonder Y/N was having trouble. She'd have to change before she and Max got on with the next round of press.

Y/N rushed off away from the press and the cameras. She ran by a concerned Max, who tried to grab her by the arm, and past the Red Bull team. "I'll be back in ten minutes," she said to Christian as she ran past.

Y/N made her way back to her hotel room. It wasn't too far away from the track, and she had almost all of her friends (aka, the other drivers) on the same floor as her.

When Y/N first started in F1, driving for Toro Rosso, there was a mixed response from fans. At that point, the fans were mostly older men and their sons. Their reactions were a mix of sexualising her and slut shaming her. Most had fears that she'd distract the rest of the grid by sleeping with them all before every race.

But the F1 Fans had grown used to her. And they loved her. They loved her as much as they loved Carlos and Pierre and Magnussen. They loved her as much as they loved every other driver on the grid.

Once in her hotel room, Y/N got changed into another Red Bull shirt. She didn't have many left, certainly not enough for the next three days of the grand prix (if things were keeping up the way they were).

After getting changed Y/N quickly checked her phone. Messages from Max and Christian, her manager reminding her of the next bit of press she had to do and her parents wishing her luck on the qualifying.

By the time Y/N got down to complete the press interview, she was already sweating. Anxiety bubbled up in side of her. What if she smelt bad? What if the cameras picked up on her pit stains?

Before the interview started, Max nudged her with his elbow. "Is everything okay?" He asked her, keeping his eyes trained forward.

Max had always been considerate when it came to Y/N. He knew what she had been through at the start of her career, the things she had to deal with from the fans. He was more aware than anybody that it was still going on. If Y/N was caught having fun with any of the drivers, they'd ridicule her online.

"Yeah, Max, I'm fine."

Y/N made it through the day in that shirt. She went to bed that night in only her underwear to try and keep cool.

By breakfast that morning she had already begun to sweat. Not through her shirt, not yet. She made it to lunch before she had to get changed.

Before the qualifying, Max pulled her to one side. Out of the prying eyes of any camera, Max grabbed her by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. Once again, she wasn't wearing her hat, making it easier for him.

"Something is going on with you. You keep disappearing," he said to her, not loosening his grip. And he wouldn't until she told him what was going on.

Y/N shook her head. "I'm okay, Max, really."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"Just tell me!"

Letting out a sigh, Y/N looked up at him and pulled his hat from his head. She placed it on her own and smiled. "Is it hot in here, or is it just me?"

"It's just you."

Max's flirting had been really subtle since Y/N became his teammate. He hadn't wanted to toe the line, didn't want to receive the repercussions of trying to date his teammate.

Qualifying was horrible. Y/N swore in all the years before it had never been this bad. The heat was distracting and she was out in Q2, taken out by Lance fucking Stroll.

Y/N was fuming. There was only one person who could comfort her. And he was currently driving around the circuit with the fastest lap.

Y/N's post qualifying interview was short. She answered every question with one word answers, her face like a slapped ass. As soon as the interview was over she was off to her drivers room to sulk.

She was only granted two minutes to herself before there was a knock on the door. Christian didn't wait for an answer before he walked in. "How are you doing?" He asked her, leaning against the door.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. It was far too hot to think.

"Well, whatever it is, have it sorted by tomorrow," he continued. "And, come and celebrate with your teammate."

The next day went much the same. Y/N sweated through breakfast and, by the time she got to lunch, she was having to change her shirt.

But there was one problem. She didn't have any shirts she hadn't already sweated through.

With nothing else to do, Y/N tucked her hands into her armpits and walked towards her boss. "Christian," she muttered almost timidly. It wasn't like Y/N to be timid. There wasn't room for it, with her being a woman in the sport.

She took him into her drivers room and made an embarrassing confession. She couldn't look Christian in the face as she told him how much she had been struggling in the heat and that she had no more shirts left.

Christian pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "Well, I know for a fact Max has another shirt. I'll go and grab it for you," he said, sparing her the embarrassment of telling somebody else.

When Christian returned with a shirt for Y/N she was quick to change. She put on some more deodorant and pulled Max's shirt over her head. Lifting the collar to her nose she breathed in. Max. It smelled of Max. It smelled amazing.

When she walked out of her drivers room, there were stares. She wasn't much aware of the stares she was getting, her eyes searching for one person and one person only.

Max didn't know what to do when he saw her. The shirt was slightly too big, hanging down to her thighs. It was oversized on her, the short sleeves almost at her elbows. Wow. That was all Max could think. Just wow.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. He watched as she lifted the collar of the shirt to her nose and smelt it yet again. His heart fluttered. Wow. Just wow.

Y/N turned around and spotted Max hidden behind a team of engineers. She wove her way around the engineers, approaching him. "Thanks for the shirt," she said with a smile.

Max didn't know how to respond. He kept staring at herm unable to take his eyes off of her. It was struggle before she was wearing his clothes, but now Max didn't stand a chance.

When Y/N took his hat from her head, he finally looked at her face. "It suits you," he managed to say. She was irresistible. It was almost too much for him.

No, it was too much for him.

"Fuck it," Max whispered under his breath. He placed his hands on her hip, catching Y/N off guard. Max wasted in time in leaning in. He pressed is lips to hers in a somewhat awkward kiss.

But it didn't take Y/N long to get with the programme. She pulled the hat from her head and wrapped her arms around his neck. Closing her eyes she deepened things, leaning into him.

When she finally pulled away, Max couldn't stop staring at her.

"I've wanted to do that since we became teammates," he whispered, taking the hat from Y/N and placing it on his head.

"What stopped you?"

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inkskinned · 3 months

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you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.

(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)

but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.

(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)

there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.

(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)

you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.

(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)

you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.

in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.

but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.

they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.

it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.

#spilled ink #warm up #can you tell what i'm mad about today specifically #i will say that there are a LOT of things that go into this. like a lot. this is ungendered and unspecific for a reason #it isn't just sexism. it's also racism. and ableism. and honestly classism.#and before a healthcare professional reads this as a personal attack: i understand ur burnt out #we are ALSO burnt out. your situation is also dire. this is not an attack on you.#this is a commentary on the incredible amounts of bigotry that lie at the heart of capitalism #where people have to pay money out of pocket to be told to fuck off.#your job is important. so is our humanity. and if you cannot accept that people are fucking mad as hell #at the industry - you are probably not listening .#anyway at some point im gonna write a piece about sexism specifically in medical shit #but i don't want terfs clowning in it bc they can't understand nuance #> it is true that ppl w/a uterus are more likely to experience medical malpractice & dismissal globally #> it is also true that trans people experience an equally fucked up and bad time in the medical field #> great news! the medical industrial complex is an equal opportunity life ruiner :)#(if you find it necessary to go into a debate about biology while discussing medical malpractice #i want to warn you that you're misunderstanding the issue. because guess what.#cis MEN might experience this. particularly black men. particularly disabled men.#so YES having a uterus can lead to more trouble for you. but this happens a LOT.#instead of fighting those ALSO experiencing your pain.... try working WITH them.#which btw. is like. actual feminism.)

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mostlymarvelsstuff · 3 months

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Reader receives Nats nudes accidentally

Authors note: Just in case you didn't see, you can now buy me a coffee/commission something. See this post for more info 🥰

Authors note 2.0: trying out a new thing with a drabble series

Word count: 803

Marvel Masterlist Natasha Masterlist How They React To Masterlist

A while ago, Tony had been feeling generous and had offered to update everyone's personal computers. And Nat was definitely in need of an upgrade, she was still using the old laptop she was first given when she joined SHIELD years ago. It still ran, which she was grateful for, but it did lack speed and some other niceties. So she took him up on said offer.

Which is why she now finds herself sitting at her desk with two laptops in front of her while she transfers over her multitude of files and data. It's a bit of a tedious task to go back through everything and find out what is actually worth keeping, what's important and what can be trashed before she hands it back over to Hill, but in the end it’ll be worth it.

She's just finishing up now, sending over the last few miscellaneous things. But what she hadn’t realized was that she had not selected her new computer as a transfer location this time, but had selected your computer. Likely unnoticed because she had forgotten about even connecting her laptop to yours during your last mission, and because her eyesight was beginning to get strained after so many hours of sitting here. Regardless, off they went, and she was none the wiser

Meanwhile you're just returning to your desk from a much needed break when you see the file transfer notification light up. This confuses you, as you hadn’t asked anyone to send anything over, nor had anyone told you to expect anything. But since you apparently have some more things to attend to, you sit back down and open the file. This proves to be of little help however, because nothing is labeled. All you know is that it contains several documents and one picture.

You decide to open the picture first, as it would hopefully not require reading. It's clearly been taken in a dimly lit room so it takes a second for your eyes to adjust to the darkened screen to discern anything, but soon enough you're greeted with the side profile of a naked woman. This confuses you even more, but you find yourself unable to tear your eyes away. And that's how you spot it, a small scar to the left of the belly button

“Oh my god!” you exclaim as you register who you're seeing, and you quickly close the tab

Your hands start sweating as you wrack your brain for a rational explanation. You knew Nat was a playful flirt, the two of you did so all the time. But to send an explicit picture, unprompted, and by file transfer at that, just didn’t make sense. That's when you remembered the other contents of the file, and you quickly skim through them to see if they would be of any help piecing things together. When you discover that they are just after mission reports and weapons specs your hunch of it being unintentional is confirmed. Now, you just had to figure out what to do about it

A few minutes later, you're standing outside the redhead's door as anxiety bubbles inside you. But you fight through it and knock.

“Come in!”

She's turned enough in her desk chair to see who's entering and a wide smile spreads across her face as she registers that it's you. You feel guilty now, because you have a feeling your demeanor and what you have to say will cause that smile to falter, but you need to do this. Afterall, you’d want someone to be forthcoming if they received something like this of you.

“Uh, hi Nat”

She notices your nervousness, but sets aside the observation for now “Hey Y/n, what's up?”

“I think you accidentally sent me a few of your things during that last file transfer”

“Oh, shit. Sorry about that, I’ve been at this for a few hours now and I guess I hit yours by mistake” she explains, “I didn’t even realize we were still connected”

“Neither had I. But Nat, there was a picture of you among the documents”

“Yeah? I hope it was a good one at least” she jokes, not realizing what you were trying to say. You're silent for a moment too long however, because she fully turns her chair to look at you, with her brows furrowed with worry, “Y/n, what's wrong with the picture?”

“Nothings wrong with it!” you reply, a little too enthusiastically when you think about what's yet to come, “It's just that, well…. You're naked”

Her face turns a shade of pink you’d never seen before, and her head swims with insecurities and nervousness. But she manages to bring out an air of confidence and gives you a sultry smirk

“So, answer the question. Was it a good picture?”

Taglist:@wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @readings-stuff @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastormm @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight @aeroae @sashawalker2

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x reader #marvel #fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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queers-gambit · 7 months

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You Might Think It's Foolish

prompt: meeting your boyfriend's family for the first time creates anxiety, so, you stick to his side. at dinner, his mother calls out your clinginess - and Aemond doesn't defend you. or when someone else calls you clingy and he doesn't defend you / agrees with them.

pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 3.1k+

warnings: short and to the point, angst, hurt and no comfort, drama, relationship angst, stand alone, cursing, toxic family, toxic relationship...? barely edited, author's tired of her drafts.

browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here

Fall. Autumn. A time of shedding the old and preparing for the new. Perhaps that was why this happened - the universe was trying to shed what was unwelcome in your life. Yet you wouldn't see it this way for several long months.

The trees grew over the winding backroads in a curved canopy; creating a golden tunnel for visitors to pass through on their way to remote destinations. You were no exception, cruising at a leisure speed while taking slow, deep breaths to attempt to soak in the beauty autumn in the Northern Hemisphere brought. It was impossible not to feel enraptured by the serenity of the country roads, music set so you could hear it but still have a conversation if you wanted.

Your passenger princess told you it was the next right.

"I can't believe we're late," you whispered, sighing in strained stress. "This is a horrible first impression, Aemond."

"We won't even be the latest," he smirked.

"Doesn't matter, it's still rude to show up when the party's already started."

"We were busy."

"You were getting a new tattoo," you deadpanned.

"Exactly as I said - busy. And you got your third ear piercing, so, I don't want t'hear it."

You swallowed, making the right turn. "That's the house?" You gawked.

"Mhm," he gazed out his window, "welcome to the Targaryen Manor, princess."

"I forget you're from old money," you muttered, finding a suitable parking space and pulling in. You gathered your belongings, including the flowers from the backseat you insisted on bringing for his mother, and vacate the car.

"You're gonna be fine," Aemond smirked, tossing his arm around your neck as you moved up the walkway. "Just be yourself, laugh at their jokes - you'll fit right in."

"I feel like I can't even afford to be here," you whispered, approaching the front door. He chuckled and took your hand, letting you squeeze it tight as he opened the door and lead you inward. "Jesus, Mary Mother, and Joseph," you gaped, eyes bugging wide as the interior.

The term "fancy" didn't even begin to cover it.

And Aemond just smirked at you, amused by your response; knowing your family grew up without money and the nicest thing you owned for years was a Wii that had been purchased from a family-friend for a third of the price. So to see you here, amongst luxury and money, was an absolute treasure to him.

However, that was short lived, because the next thing you noticed was the amount of people milling around. There was at least 13 different people in sight, and for some reason, you knew there was likely many, many more. Aemond lead you into the kitchen, and from there, you could barely keep up.

First, you met his mother, Alicent. She was a kind woman, but stoic and calculating; observant with a quick wit. She intimidated you, made you feel small, burned you under her stare; and since you were dating her favorite child, you knew she was scrutinizing you. You felt desperate for her approval, and when you offered her the large bouquet of flowers, she actually let her lips twitch in a small smile. She thanked your generosity and consideration, making you feel like you had some kind of breakthrough with her.

When Alicent went to put the flowers in water, Aemond assured he thought his mother "adored" you before introducing you to his father - the birthday boy. He was sweet; soft spoken and bright-eyed; all too happy to have a conversation with you. He asked how you and Aemond met, then what you were studying in university, if you liked it, what you wanted to do with your degree. He asked what food was your favorite, if you played sports, about your family, and if you had any hobbies. Viserys Targaryen had a kind soul, making you wonder how he and Alicent remained married.

Though they say opposites attract.

Aemond showed you around the house, stopping to introduce family members; then heading to the backyard where you were drug around to meet the hundred other family members. You were close to tears the whole time, knowing it was his father's birthday, but not knowing how bloody big his fucking family was - and that they'd all show up today. You felt blindsided, it felt like a deliberate withholding of information to convince you to come. You were under the impression it was a family dinner, but now, you understood, it was an actual celebration.

There was people everywhere you looked, everywhere you turned. Voices spoke over one another, children ran around playing tag or jumping on a trampoline; babies cried and screamed, the grill was loud with sizzling meats, and a radio played through intermittent static. Multiple dogs ran around, trailing mud everywhere, even going as far as to shake their coats out to shower bystanders. The smell of charcoal, smoke, and chlorine mingled with that tangy-good scent of BBQ; but it made your eyes sting.

It was a sensory overload.

It was a miracle you hadn't burst into tears yet, but you remained anchored to reality by maintaining a close proximity to Aemond.

You held his hand in a vice grip. You held his bicep with a curled-grip that left fingernail indentations in his skin through the fabric. You held his waist, belt loops, anything you could grab onto in a possessive grip. You constantly touched him to reassure yourself he was still with you; being your anchor to reality, tangible and real since your anxiety drowned you in a sea.

You didn't think it was an issue. Didn't think anyone would notice, so you obviously didn't think anyone would care if they DID notice. You liked touching Aemond, it kept you grounded; if someone had an issue with that, it was 100% just a personal problem. However, plenty of people did notice, and when you sat down for dinner, you were unprepared for the ambush.

Conversation was flowing; food passed around and utensils scraped plates. Drinks sweat into the table cloth, citronella candles twinkled, and laughter was in an abundance as each person found merriment in their family. You were feeling more relaxed, but the truth was, there was so many people here that you felt nauseous enough to only take a few small bites from your plate.

Aemond noticed and met your eyes, subtly opening his hand to you in an offer for comfort. You all but snatched his hand into yours, smiling in thanks as he only smirked broadly and continued eating. You tried to sample what you could, but it was impossible to stomach much of anything. You reached for your water, took a sip, and heard Alicent question your name.

When she had your attention, Alicent asked, "Have you had many boyfriends, dear?"

"Oh, no," you answered honestly, "no, I've gone on dates but Aemond's," you laid your free hand to his bicep, sliding down to take his hand with yours, "my first boyfriend."

She hummed and stabbed her fork into the salad set in front of her, muttering in a lower tone, "Then I guess I can overlook it all."

You cocked your head, setting your glass down, wondering, "Overlook what?"

"The clinginess," she shrugged, reaching for her wine glass. "You've been stuck to his side all day - never even parting to go to the restroom, it seems. So, because he's your first, I can overlook all this... For now."

Your head began to spin like in a bad cartoon. You felt your heart cement and drop to your stomach; throat swelling to suppress either sobs, vomit, or both. The entire table was quiet. "I-I'm sorry, Mrs. Targaryen," you offered in confusion. "I'm sorry if I've offended you, but it's not with malicious intent."

"No?" She mocked.

"No," your head shook vehemently. "I did not realize my actions could be interpreted negatively, and I assume you, it was not my intention to create tension."

"Oh, spare me. You haven't let go of Aemond once all night, and even now, as we all sit for family dinner, you hold his hand hostage; preventing you both from eating. Don't you think he'd like to spend time with his family without needing to make you feel included in every single thing he does or says today?"

You gulped, "I did not mean to offend you nor your family."

"It's not offensive," Helaena Targaryen, Aemond's only sister, tried to intervene. "If you feel uncomfortable in any situation, why not seek out that in which you already know helps comfort you?"

How had it come to this?

"I am not offended," Viserys croaked, "I find young love refreshing."

But this made Alicent rage, "It is offensive when you prevent Aemond from actually visiting with his family. It's his father's birthday for God's sake! We don't have an infinite number of them left! If you want to hang all over him when you're at university, fine, but when you're here? In public? Around family or elders? It's not acceptable behavior, especially when you prevent my son from participating as a member of this family."

Your mouth went dry as you remembered your parents did not raise you to ever tolerate disrespect. If someone offered insult, sure, walk away, but they also taught you to stand up for yourself in particular fights. This felt like one of those fights.

There were also vivid memories long since repressed that flashed you back to your own parents telling you, you were clingy. They didn't want you hanging off them, distracting anyone, being an overall nuisance; so they started fighting your fire with their own. They became verbally aggressive, constantly ridiculing and belittling you; attempting to keep you humble by insulting your character - saying nobody (be it man or woman) would want someone like you. Your baggage was too heavy and you knew it, your parents telling you it was why you felt the need to cling in the first place.

If you held on tight enough, the weight of your trauma would eventually anchor your person in place. It'd be too late to swim away once that anchor sunk.

You looked at Aemond, thinking he'd tell his mother to quiet down, but he never did. He just stared at the table, so, you tossed his hand into his lap - feeling disgusting by his physical touch right now.

It was evident he wasn't going to defend you, so, you defended yourself, "I know you might think it foolish, but the reason I was 'all over' your son was because I was caught off-guard by the number of family members who attended today. I was lead to believe this would be a small, intimate affair so I could properly meet his nuclear family, and when I realized that was not the case, yes, I held onto Aemond because I felt incredibly anxious. I cannot control what makes me uncomfortable, but I was expecting under ten people - not close to a hundred. So, truly, if me seeking solace with my boyfriend upsets you, I am sorry, but I will not apologize for feeling blindsided and misdirected - I will not apologize for feeling anxious and nervous amongst such a large family that I've never met before, and - "

Aemond snapped your name, silencing you instantly out of sheer shock; your eyes widening a fraction. He growled, "That's enough, do not speak to my mother like that."

"So, she's allowed to call me clingy, but I can't - "

"I told you to watch your mouth," he seethed, "and not speak to her like you just were. She made an observation - an accurate one - not out of spite, like you want to do in retaliation."

You scoffed, while glancing between mother and son, nodding slowly. You mutely used your cloth napkin to blot around your lips, swipe your tongue over your teeth as you pushed your chair back and slowly stood. "You know what? I don't need this shit. I refuse to sit here and let you speak to me as if you're holier than thou," you told Alicent, then looking to Aemond, "nor will some mama's boy gaslight me."

Helaena giggled behind her hand as you swiped your purse and phone, turned on your heel, and walked away. Aemond sighed and called your name, standing from his own chair, still trying to slow you down by calling out to you. "Aemond," Alicent snapped when he meant to move after you.

"You've done enough," he told her, jogging after your retreating form while calling your name.

"Nice one, Mum," Aegon scoffed. "That's one way to make sure he doesn't knock her up - just break them up."

"Aegon," Daeron groaned.

"What? Isn't that what she was afraid of? Aemond getting too serious with her?" Aegon snapped. "He's finally happy, and you what? Had to implode that?"

Aegon's words sunk into his mother's heart as Aemond rushed after you, nobody untouched by the things he said.

Outside, you rushed for your car while fumbling with your purse and keys. Aemond followed, still. He finally caught up when you made it to the car, his hand whipping you around to face him.

"I didn't fucking mean it," he rushed, holding you securely in his grasp. "Hear me? I didn't fucking mean it, I-I just wanted the arguing to stop, I know how Mum can get and I didn't want it to escalate. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, my love, I didn't mean it at you - I just - I panicked - I don't know why. Perhaps we're both still very green to this whole relationship thing."

"Oh! Fuck you," you snapped, pushing him off you.

"Listen to me - "

"No, you're done talking," you raged with your manicured pointer finger jabbing the air between you in a dramatic fashion. "Your mother fully insulted me in front of everyone - your entire family, whom I wasn't even aware I was meeting, nor was I even ready to meet!"

"What?"

"I was willing to meet your parents and siblings. Not your entire extended family! You meet the nuclear family first and when ready to level-up, you bring your significant other around your aunties, uncles, cousins - whatever. You ambushed me," you snapped. "You totally caught me off guard - but instead of apologizing and acknowledging my discomfort, you just carried on on your high horse. You let me hold onto you - yet there was no word about being clingy - and you even reached for my hand a few times! Yet I was the one being slandered and labeled as 'clingy'!? But you know what? That's cool, really fucking cool, that's fine. Like I said before, fuck off. I don't need to be with someone who crumples like a wet piece of paper when Mummy Dearest starts to huff and puff. I need someone who's going to tell their mother to cut it out when they're trying to wrongfully insult me - your girlfriend. Better yet? I need to be with someone whose mother doesn't start on that bullshit! That has respect! Decency! Now get the fuck away from me!"

You shoved him back a few steps to give room for you to open your car door and get in - immediately hitting the automatic locks. You started the engine, put your seatbelt on, took one last look at your first love as he tried to plea with you through the rolled up window, then shifted into gear and pulled away.

You felt your anger boil to a new height when you replayed the entire day. How dare Aemond? How dare he try to manipulate this situation? He had no right to ask you to shut the fuck up while his mother was free to run her mouth! Well, first and foremost, how fucking dare Alicent insult and challenge you in such a public setting? How in the Seven Hells had Helaena been the only one to defend you? What the hell did you even need defending against? Why did you showing affection and needing reliable support upset Alicent that much?

Your phone began to ring, and when you glanced at it, you saw Aemond's contact photo displayed on the screen. You ignored it and put your phone on airplane mode, leaving it on for now. However, after a few long moments of stressful thinking, you turned the setting off and called your sister - knowing no matter what, she'd be your rock. When she answered, you told her a simplified version of events, and at the end, your tears had been triggered and she was encouraging you to come over to her house.

You agreed, shut your phone off this time, and drove to your sister's place. When you arrived, you were shocked to find her waiting in the driveway, opening her arms with a pout when you got out of the car. "C'mere," she cooed, enveloping you in her arms when you stepped into her embrace.

"Why do boys suck?" You whimpered.

"Because that's just how they were programed," she sighed.

"Sh-She called me clingy," you managed through your tears, "his mom called me clingy, a-and Aemond d-didn't defend me. So, when I had to defend myself, he just told me to be quiet 'cause his mother wasn't wrong - or what-the-fuck-ever."

"I know, honey," she sympathized, giving you a squeeze. "What're you thinking?"

"That I can't trust someone like that," you admitted. "And if I can't trust them, why be in a relationship?"

She nodded, "I think you know what you need to do next."

"I don't want to."

"Nobody really wants to, but it's necessary," she held your phone out for you after pulling it from your back pocket. "Don't let him or his mother disrespect you - especially in front of his other family members. I mean, shit, how're you supposed to face any of them again after that?"

"Exactly, his mom didn't exactly do it in private..."

"See?" She stared at you while you sighed, shaking your head. Your sister encouraged, "Make the call. This isn't a sustainable relationship, and Aemond shouldn't have to choose his mother and his girl - so, let's just make it easy on him, and you choose. Wanna be with someone who lets his mother say shit like that to you? Who tells you to be quiet, instead of shutting down his mother's insults?"

You frowned, whispering, "I don't think this is enough to break us up. It shouldn't be, right? This shouldn't be the end-all, be-all, should it?"

"No, honey, but the disrespect cannot stand, either," she shot back. "If he felt so comfortable to say that in front of his family like that, you don't wanna know what he's gonna get comfortable doing in more private settings." Tears filled your eyes as she reminded gently, but firmly, "Make the call."

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nayziiz · 12 days

Text

Come Home | LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (she/her)

Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!

Masterlist

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky of Monte Carlo, she sat alone in the cosy living room of their apartment, her fingers anxiously tapping on her phone screen. It had been several weeks since she last felt the comforting warmth of his embrace, his familiar scent wrapping around her like a protective shield against the world's chaos. Work commitments and race weekends had kept them apart for longer than either of them had anticipated, and with each passing day, the ache of his absence grew more pronounced.

The apartment felt emptier without him, his laughter no longer echoing through the halls, his belongings neatly tucked away in drawers and closets, waiting for his return. She longed for the simple pleasure of having him home, to share mundane moments that held a special magic when they were together.

After a particularly exhausting day at work, all she craved was the solace of his arms, the reassurance of his presence. She had tried calling him several times throughout the day, but each attempt went unanswered, his phone seemingly out of reach. Anxiety gnawed at her insides as she imagined all sorts of scenarios, her mind spiralling with worry.

Perhaps he had gotten caught up in meetings or encountered unexpected delays on his journey home. Or maybe his phone had died, and he was currently en route, completely unaware of her attempts to reach him. But as the minutes stretched into hours, her concern morphed into a deep-seated fear, a nagging voice whispering worst-case scenarios in her ear.

Unable to sit still any longer, she rose from the couch and began pacing the length of the living room, her heart pounding against her chest like a caged bird desperate for freedom. Every passing second felt like an eternity, each unanswered call a sharp stab of disappointment.

But just as despair threatened to consume her entirely, the familiar sound of keys jingling in the lock filled the air, and her breath caught in her throat. With trembling hands, she rushed to the door, flinging it open to reveal the silhouette of the man she loved, his tired eyes lighting up at the sight of her.

Before she could utter a word, Lando enveloped her in a tight embrace, his arms providing the sanctuary she had been yearning for. In that moment, everything else faded into the background, leaving only the two of them, tangled together in a silent embrace.

“I'm so sorry I couldn't get back to you earlier,” he murmured against her hair, his voice thick with emotion.

“You’re home, that’s all that matters,” she assured him.

“I’ll always come home to you, baby,” he told her before pressing a kiss on her forehead.

And as she melted into his embrace, she knew that no matter how far apart they may be, they would always find their way back to each other, their love serving as a guiding light through even the darkest of nights.

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tinkerbelle05 · 9 months

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How about a 1016 miles x fem reader where his mom catches them kissing in his room 😭😭 I feel Rio would not play

Caught Red Handed

Characters: 1610!Miles Morales x Black!Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff & slight Angst

Summary: (Requested) Thanks beautiful ♥️

Warnings: awkwardness, snooping parents, Rio’s rage

A/N: Omg Rio would never play like that. I think it took a lot of convincing for you and Miles to be in the same room. Welp that's gone now. Also for my own peace of mind, Miles and Reader is 16+

You loved kissing Miles. You loved leaving a trail of kisses on his jaw, traveling down to his neck, and traveling further down into the depths of his collarbone.

You were doing it right now. Both of you laying on his bed with you draped over his body and his hands on your thighs for stability. You heard a chuckle under his breath and you paused to look at him.

“That made you tickle,” it was more of a statement, an observation really, than a question. He didn’t answer, just avoided your eyes. You took your finger and lightly trailed leaving goosebumps in it’a wakes, leaving him a laughing mess.

“You're such a tease,” he grumbles and kisses your lips.

The both of you were so entrapped in your own world that you didn’t hear Miles’ door opening, and you most definitely didn’t notice Rio standing at the doorway with lunch in her hands.

“What are you two doing?!” You hear a yell. It sounded too much like Ms. Morales for your liking.

Both of you froze with fear and slowly turned around to see a fuming Ms. Morales. She was gripping the tray for dear life and fierce glare on her face.

You practically jump off Miles, white hot embarrassment fills every part of your body. You avoid her line of sight as you brace yourself for the inevitable verbal lashing. You don’t even dare to look at Miles, not even a secret glance in his general direction.

“So this is why y’all wanna keep the door closed all the time huh?” She questions and laughs in a mocking tone.

“Mom-“

“Don’t,” she cuts him off harshly. She closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. She opens them and they land in the space between you and Miles. “Have you two..?”

“No, we haven't,” Miles answers quickly, and somehow your embarrassment grew deeper.

She gives out a sigh and pinches her nose, “Okay, okay that's good because I will not become a grandmother right now, do you both understand?”

Both of you nod in unison. There was something more terrifying about her calm rage. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in anxiety.

She clears her throat, “Since neither of you clearly paid enough attention during sex-ed in school, I will re-teach you.”

“Huh? Mami please no. You really don’t have to,” Miles protested while you sink further into despair.

She ignores Miles and grabs a chair to sit in, “Okay so when..”

This was going to be a long night but it could definitely have been worse.

“Oh and you both are severely grounded for at least a month,” she adds before she continues on.

It was one of the worst 30 minutes of your life. Ms. Morales went really in depth on every subject related to sex education. The diseases you could catch, different methods of practicing safe sex, and the consequences of failing to do so. She painted horrifyingly graphic demonstrations too.

By the end of it, all you wanted to do was go home and erase this idea from your memory forever.

And at the end, she said, “Now maybe a month from now, after some reflection I can trust you two to be in the same room with the door open. But not right now. Do you need a ride home?” She turned to you, her gaze and voice softer than it was a moment ago

You quickly shake your head no and grab your things. As much as a car ride home would beat the 2 trains and a bus commute you had, your already cringing at the thought of how awkward and tense the car ride would be.

“No, no it’s fine Ms. Morales, I can get home on my own,” you tell her and with a quick goodbye to both of them, you were out the door.

Halfway through your train ride home and the Renaissance album you get a text from Miles. You were surprised he still has his phone.

“I’m sooo sorry for that. Shoulda locked the door next time. I'll make it up to you, promise 🙏🏿”

“I'll hold it to you Morales”

Tags: @butterfi, @justbeethings, @jam-skullz, @zomb1te, @dreamxcollide, @shibble, @sciamachy-after-dusk @sleepdeprivationis4coolkids, @somber-starz, @maypersonne, @peter-parkers-gf, @hoeboat101, @rosebunny, @liural, @midnight-the-shadow-wolf, @mur-docs, @eight-cats-in-a-box@emgavi, @sawi-06, @707xn, @niktwazny303, @nagi3seastorm, @ghostsimp000, @cloudstrifefantatic, @vixqn, @mewxzx, @yourtsahik, @targaryenstormborn, @spider-bren, @star-light18464, @im-jisoo-im-okay, @wraithlueintheirlittleworld, @andhdi68a, @itstooearly-its3am, @universallypeanutpizzapersona, @gricelovesu, @pavitrsgf, @avatarl0v3r, @ca1ist0, @randomhoex, @nerdyparker616, @1uvvmi, @keawio, @centipider, @ellatienesuscosas, @m4rihrts, @jell0buss-37, @baddiebehaviourxx, @laylasbunbunny, @minimari415

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yelena-belovas-gun · 3 months

Text

Overworked (Natasha Romanoff)

Summary: You end up working a little too much.

Natasha Romanoff x fem!engineer!reader

Warnings: Overworking, tension, stress, anxiety, sickness, fever.

Requested by the following bao bun: @splat-tasha

Translations: 1. Detka: baby 2. Malyshka: baby girl 3. Dorogoy: darling 4. Moya lyubov: my love

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Honestly, working with S.H.I.E.L.D was very well paying, well-rewarding, and worth all the effort you put into it. You loved building things for the agents, coming up with new designs for weapons and bringing them up from graphite on paper into metal on gunpowder.

Natasha had to admit, though...you overdid it sometimes. You'd sometimes lose days of sleep over some new variation of a weapon, or while repairing a broken jet. Now, the bags under your eyes had pretty much become your personal accessory.

"Detka, please, don't overwork yourself..." she'd mutter against your hair as she cuddled your tired body after you'd finally let yourself rest.

"I won't, darling, I swear..." you'd mumble, but it would end up being a lie within the next two days, maximum.

This time, it went a little too far.

The entire day, you'd shown small signs that you were slowly falling sick from the amount you were working. Starting with your sudden loss of appetite, to blinking for a few seconds longer than any normal person would deem healthy.

"L/n, I need this ray gun fixed, asap," one of the agents said, handing you the said weapon. You shook your head to clear your foggy senses and nodded, taking it.

Later that day, Fury called you to his office and described a new kind of weapon they'd need for a stealth mission, and of course, you agreed to have the prototype ready within three days.

"Hey, Y/n, can you fix my pistols?" Maria asked you after that interaction, handing you a box. "For some reason, the safety isn't coming on on either of them since my niece messed with them, and I cannot have guns without a safety lock in the house..."

"N-no issue, Keya..." you mumbled, addressing her by the wrong name in your tiredness.

"Keya?" she raised a brow.

"Shit, sorry, I meant Maria..." you apologised, embarrassed. "I'm a bit tired, sorry. I'll have the guns fixed by tomorrow, no issue."

She smiled and thanked you, walking away.

You continued to walk around and work like a corpse, and felt the need for several cups of very strong coffee throughout the course of the day.

Natasha felt her gut telling her something was wrong, and decided to go and check on you.

And thank every merciful god that she did.

You were a mess, your workshop was like a hurricane hit it and it then got ransacked by an army of wild cats.

Nuts and bolts littered the floor, pages were scattered across two worktables joined together, grease stained the floor, and a concerning number of coffee cups were strewn around.

She heard the buzzing of a soldering iron and saw you at a worktable which had some of the surface visible. Your hands, which were normally so steady, were trembling, and you looked like you wanted to pass out as you fixed the safety lock of Maria's guns.

You got a phone call, and didn't notice Nat as you answered it, putting it on speaker.

"Hey, Y/n, it's Phil. Coulson," came the voice from the other line. "So, um, I know you fixed my car earlier this week, but I got into a bit of a scuffle...the engine's not starting up and I think I screwed up the oil tank while I was at it cause this bugger won't fill up at all."

You exhaled heavily, putting a grease-stained, and shockingly blistered hand to your forehead, making another black mark appear on your skin. "I'll come over tomorrow to look at it, Dave."

"...Dave? What the hell?" His voice sounded confused and irritated, making you click your tongue in annoyance and sigh.

"I'm sorry, that's the thirdtimetoday..." you muddled your words together as well, making him as you to repeat. "I said it's the third time I've messed up someone's name."

"No problem, just can you fix it?" He asked.

"Yeah," you bade him goodbye and cut the call, going over to your whiteboard, where an array of tasks and their deadlines were listed out.

Natasha was horrified to see how many of them were marked for each day.

"Y/n, what the fuck?" Natasha gasped, seeing your hand shake and seeing you screw up Phil's name spelling on the board thrice.

You turned around and gripped the edge of a chair for support. You had a headache, and now were too dizzy to stand.

"O-oh...h-hi, Tasha..." you smiled at her.

"Don't you 'hi Tasha' me, idiot!" She stormed over to you, but nevertheless took your greasy hand in hers tenderly. "Detka, you are so overworked..." she felt how cold your hands were and immediately checked your temperature.

Fever.

"And you have a fever!" She gasped, "Why didn't you tell me you were sick!?"

"I'm not sick...am I?" Your eyes widened as you looked at the board, panicking. "No, no, no, I can't fall sick! I have so many things to give by tomorrow!"

"Y/n," Natasha's voice was scarily firm as she held you in place, forcing you to look into her eyes. "I am taking you home, and you will rest, or else."

"But Tasha..." you whined, but she was having non of it.

"Moya lyubov, moya dorogoya," she sighed, petting your hair and speaking as if you were a five year old, "You need rest, otherwise you'll fall sicker. Now, go and wait in the car."

"...yes, Tasha..." you mumbled like a five year old, and walked off.

Natasha was like an angry mama bear as she stormed into Nick Fury's office.

"Nicholas Fury, how dare you run Y/n to such levels of exhaustion that she's fallen sick!" She exclaimed, seething. "She has a fever, she is literally stumbling around and surviving on unhealthy amounts of caffeine, and is mixing up people's names! How dare you treat her like a machine! she fixes machines, doesn't mean she is one!"

Fury sighed and remained calm in the face of the livid assassin. "Please, tell Y/n to keep her projects on hold, and that she has nothing to worry about because we will pay for this sick leave. Happy?"

"Very. Now if I ever see this happen again, I will commit murder, and it will be yours." She turned on her heel and stalked off, back to the car where you were.

She got into the driver's seat and kept you nicely warm in her jacket, till you both got home.

"Now, malyshka, please rest," she kissed your forehead and smiled after she'd tucked you into bed.

"Thank you, Tasha..." you mumbled. she lay beside you and gently stroked your hair, stopping after you fell asleep, and cuddled you to recovery.

Maybe overworking had it's own perks...

THE END.

#natasha romanoff #shield #natasha romanoff x reader #femreader #engineer!y/n #wlw #bisexual #lesbian

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punching-pentagrams · 2 months

Text

Love in a Hopeless Place

Chapter 10

Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 3.6k CW: Slowburn, Angst, Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, depression, anxiety, insecurity,

Over the next couple of days, Charlie and the hotel crew started to prepare for their little "intervention" dinner with her dad. Charlie and Vaggie worked together to make up dinner while the others made sure the place was kept up, mostly Niffty.

Later that night, Charlie heard a knock on the front door. Was that him? Why didn't he just teleport in like usual? Charlie went to open the door and saw Lucifer giving his big focused smile.

"Charlie! It's so good to see you," he said enveloping his daughter in a big hug. It had been weeks since he had hugged anyone, the sting of how much he missed it had started to grow back.

"Hi Dad," Charlie said hugging her father back tightly and swinging him around. "I've missed you so much, it's been weird not having you around as much."

Lucifer tightened his grip on Charlie as they hugged, "I'm- sorry about that sweetie, I just... got busy. I'll try to be better about that, I promise."

Charlie loosened the hug enough to study her dad's face, it was tired and worn out, he looked like he hadn't slept in days. Lucifer tried hard to keep his facade up, but he knew his daughter was trying to read him.

"Dad... are you sure you are ok?" Charlie asked with concern.

"Yes. Why do you ask?" he said still trying to hold a smile, holding a silence but futile prayer that he could find a way to fool her into thinking he was ok.

The other members of the hotel, Angel, Husk, Niffty, Cherri, Vaggie, even Alastor started to walk in from the shadows of the hotel lobby.

"Cuz, with all due respect your highness," Husk chimed in "One, you are a bad liar, two, we actually do care about you," Husk looked over to Alastor out of the side on his eye, "well... most of us care about you, and three... we are also worried about (y/n)."

"Ya!" Angel added in, "You two were a couple of peas in a pod, she was even talkin' 'bout wantin' to move in here, den 'poof', ya both are nowhere ta be seen fa' weeks. What gives?! I thought we mattered to you guys!"

"Ya! I miss you and our girl, where is she?!" Cherri pipped in, "We loved watching you two hangin' out here togetha."

"She was a bad girl! But she was really nice! I liked when she would listen to me talk about my bugs fights!" Niffty added, holding up her knife.

Alastor sighed, "Honestly, I'm mostly here for the entertainment of your sorrow... but (y/n) was important to the growth of the hotel and it's community. Plus, she amuses me. I had grown unfortunately fond of her charms," Alastor said with a wicked smile, his comment made the room pause a moment, Lucifer glared at him.

"We miss both of you, sir, it's just not the same here without you. We just kinda feel like we've been left in the dark," Vaggie added, rubbing her arm.

Lucifer sighed, he didn't realize just how much you had meant to not just Charlie, but to the entire hotel. That you guys together had been. It was important for them to know the truth.

"Ok, ok... I'll tell you the truth... but it isn't going to be pretty," Lucifer said with shame painting his face. Lucifer went to go sit on the couch and the others came to sit around him and listen to the story. Lucifer gave an abbreviated story of the last several months of his time with you, truth that you were actually a prostitute he had hired, the story with how it all started with the conversation with Ozzie, the first appointment and the chaos and joy that cam from it, how you had helped him to connect with Charlie and the hotel again, how you supported either other through the stresses of the war with Heaven, how he protected you, how he realized he had fallen in love with you, and then the last night you were together, the blur and confusion of it all, and how finally you had banned him from being able to be scheduled with you again and how you had been told that the whole dynamic was just her acting like she cared about him. He didn't blame or try to paint you in a bad light, he was just defeated and sad.

During the story, the group went through a series of emotions, all of them now understanding why you had not able to talk about your relationship with him at all.

"Damn it! No wonder I liked her so much! She's in da same industry as me!" shouted Angel when the story was over, "She felt so kindred and I couldn't fuckin' see it. Oh, she is good."

"So... none of your relationship was real?" Charlie asked, sadly.

Lucifer shook his head, "No... no I don't think it was."

Husk shook his head, "You're wrong." Everyone looked at him. "Something here doesn't add up, Angel, Cherri, you remember our conversation with (y/n) the night before the war with heaven?" They nodded, Husk looked at Lucifer, "The only lie I have ever seen (y/n) tell you was that she was sad that night because of the war, which... she still was... but the reason she was sad before you came over to check on her was because she was sad that she could not be honest with us about your guy's relationship. We had asked her about what was up because you guys seemed more than friends, and she told us she could not talk about it. And she has tried to bluff some things about how she presents herself before when we first met her, probably all just to protect the secret you guys had. Trust me when I say, she was never fake with how much I saw she cared about you."

Lucifer shrugged, "It doesn't seem to matter though it though... in the end, she banned me."

"Why?" asked Angel, "Did she tell you? Did you ever hurt her?"

"No. Someone else at the place she works called me and told me, she was gone or... something. I don't know if I hurt her, never physically, but I was so drunk at the end of our last night together... I don't know what I did or why I got banned... and I'd never want to cross a boundary like that... she's had too many fucked up people in her life... I don't want to add to that club any more than I already had," he buried his face in his hands, "it sounds like keeping the secret was already a lot of weight on her, I didn't realize..."

"King, listen, I've been in the sex business for a long time, nothin' about this situation makes sense ta me, both from a sex worka' standpoint or from what I know about her. Did you pay her well?" Angel ask inquisitively.

Lucifer nodded, "Ya, I gave her big tips too, I wanted to to be happy and get what she needed."

"No good sex worka' in their right mind would full on ban you for one weird night, even if you did rough 'em up a bit. You told us there was some other client that had been roughin' her up a bit that you took care of. Tell me, did she ban him on the first night of havin' any issues with him?" Angel asked. Lucifer shook his head, starting to think about Angel's words.

"Right. So unless she was stupid, which I know she aint, she wouldn't've cut off probably the best paycheck in hell just because you had one sloppy drunk night where something may have gone weird. Also, on top a dat, sex worka's can be good actors and can pretend like they care. But they try not to get attached, and like Husker said earlier, she got attached, and boy it was obvious. That's probably a big reason why I didn't sus her out sooner. By da time we met her, nothin' about ya relationship was actin' anymore, on either side. Cuz you love 'er, dontcha?" Angel pointed while he leaned back on the couch.

Everyone looked at Lucifer, he nodded, "I do, I love her."

Angel nodded, "And you would do anythin' to make 'er happy, including keepin' yourself away from her if you thought it would make her happier, isn't dat right?"

Lucifer started to tear up, "Yes..." Charlie started to tear up and hugged her dad.

"Therefore... there is something fishy happenin' here, there must be some form of miscommunication, or... a third party that likes messin' with shit," Angel looked up at the ceiling thinking.

"How do you know all this?" asked Vaggie suspiciously. Angel looked over at Vaggie and have her a sly smile, "When you're life was spent in da Mafia and your afterlife was spent around shitty desperate sex worka's that are dying to get a taste of your success by any means necessary, you pick up on a few things, baby."

Charlie perked up, "You think someone at her work did this?"

Angel shrugged, "It's very possible, not 100%, but it's possible. Lucifer, did (y/n) ever talk about having any issues with other girls at her workplace?"

Lucifer thought a moment, "Hmm... she mentioned there being some annoying girls that she some sometimes needed to put in their place, but nothing this crazy hostile. But then again, she didn't like talking about the Lounge much, and I didn't like asking because I started to get more sad whenever I was reminded that I was just a client to her."

"The Lounge, like the Luxurious Lady's Lounge in the Entertainment district?" asked Angel.

"Ya... you know it?" asked Lucifer.

Angel smiled, "Know it? Ha! Sure do. I know exactly where it is too. May have even seen 'er once or twice without knowin' it"

Charlie smiled at her dad, "Dad, if we know where she is, we should just go and talk to her!"

Lucifer shook his head, "Oh. No, no, nonononono, Charlie... I can't do that."

"Why not? Dad, come on, we can try clearing all this up!" Charlie pleaded.

Lucifer sighed, "I just... until I know for sure that she didn't actually ban me, I won't want to risk that. It's just not a good idea... Plus, I don't want to attract more attention to her if she is having issues there," Lucifer hung his head.

Charlie thought for a minute, then a lightblub went off, Charlie got down to Lucifer's eye level, "Dad, she may have "banned" you for seeing her... but not me! I could go talk to her!"

"Charlie, hold on, dis is a bad idea," Angel piped up, everyone looked at him confused, "Rememba' what happened when you tried to talk to Val for me?" Charlie thought for a second remembering the disaster that was, feeling the guilt return at the memory. Angel smiled, "Obviously I need to go with you!" The room erupted into laughter, Angel almost had them for a second, even Lucifer managed to crack a smile in his down mood.

"You guys are really willing to do this for me?" he asked looking to Charlie and Angel.

Charlie looked at Angel and back to her dad, and grabbed Lucifer's hands, "Yes, for you... and for us."

Lucifer smiled, "Ok... but can we actually have dinner before you go? I was anticipating an actual dinner instead of an intervention, but I guess I should have expected both." The room filled with laughter again and the group set up for dinner before Charlie and Angel would head out to find the Lounge, and more importantly, you.

______________________________________________________________

Later that evening, you were hanging out in the lobby of the Lounge, the same way that you had the nights before Lucifer had started to take up more of your schedule. You were still getting clients, but it was back to the old torturous monotony as before, but it somehow felt worse now that you had gotten a taste of love... or what you thought had been love. Every client made you wish you were back in Lucifer's arms, wanting to explore Lucifer's body... not this shithole and all it's shitty clients.

You felt yourself grow more bitter as you saw Cynthhhhia grow back in popularity with the customers, it seemed her few days on the phones really scared her into staying in her lane, especially because Larry had apparently made her take all of the calls during those three days. Something did not sit right with you about her more recent success, but you didn't want to turn into another her. Plus, the happier she was, the more she left you alone. Guess there had to be a bright side, somewhere.

You were sitting on your favorite couch in a long, blue, shear, flowy robe, when you saw a tall pair of individuals walk into the lobby. But not just any two tall people, two that you recognized, Angel and Charlie. You eyes went wide, and you quickly slinked off to the dressing room to hide.

'What the hell? What are they doing there?!' you thought to yourself. You hoped they hadn't seen you, even though your time with Lucifer was up, you still wanted to keep his secret about the two of you.

Charlie and Angel walked up to the front counter where Larry was standing he did a double-take seeing both of them.

"Whoooaaa, Princess Morningstar! And the famous Angel Dust! What an honor to have you two in to join us this evening. Are we interested in having a little fun tonight? I am surprised, I didn't think one of Val's best boys would be needin' to pay for fun. Unless... you are looking for a change in employment?" He flashed a sharp smile.

Charlie piped up, "Hi! Uhh, Charlie is just fine. And no, neither of those things. We are here looking for one of your girls, (y/n)."

"Is she here tonight?" Angel added.

"Uhh... ya. What business do you have with her?" Larry asked, wondering how they knew her.

"She's a friend ah mine," Angel chimed in, "She's mean MIA for a few weeks and we have been worried about 'er, we were wantin' to check in on her. Charlie has gotten to know her a little too and wanted to come with."

"Can we pleaseee see her?" Charlie pleaded.

Larry thought for a moment, "I don't know, she is still on the clock for several more hours. I can't just let her off early." Charlie and Angel look at each other and nod, Charlie pulls out an bunch of cash, "Will this cover her for the rest of the night." Larry smiled as the amount of money in her hands, it was more than enough.

"I do believe that will work Ms. Mornin- uhh, Charlie," Larry said taking the cash, "Let me go get her." Charlie is glad that she learned that in some situations like this, money talked more than words or power. She came more prepared than she had with her conversation with Valentino over getting more of Angel's time.

Larry searched around before finding you in the dressing room, "Hey Babydoll, you've been bought out for the rest of the night by some friends of yours, Angel Dust and Charlie Morningstar. I didn't know you knew them." He said giving you a look.

They bought you out for the rest of the night? Did they come here specifically to find you? How did they know you were here? Did... did Lucifer tell them? You felt some fear and hope bloom in your chest.

"Oh, haha ya, you know me, I'm just not one to talk about my personal life at work," you gave Larry a big smile. He laughed, "Alright, keep your secrets, sounds like they wanted to talk to you about something, worried about you. Go show 'em a good time tonight, ok?" You nodded, and quickly switching out to a more solid less see-through robe, before walking out to the lobby.

Angel and Charlie saw you coming, Charlie ran to you but you stopped her short of you, "Not here, come with me," and you led your friends up to you apartment. Once you were inside you room and the door was locked, you said "Ok now you can hug me if you want to."

This time, both Charlie and Angel want to embrace you at the same time, starting to tear up a little.

"Oh my god, (y/n)! It's so good to see you! We were so worried about you!" Charlie asked.

"Ya! When you and Lucifer stopped showing up at the hotel to visit, we started worrying, babe," Angel added.

"Wait... hold up, Lucifer stopped showing up to the hotel? How did you know I was here?" you asked.

"We sat my Dad down and he finally broke and told us the truth about everything," Charlie said.

"Ya, he spilled da beans on your guy's relationship, you don't have to keep his secret from us anymore," Angel added.

Tears started to well up in your eyes, "I don't?!" The two nodded. You started to sob and hugged them back. "I- I'm so sorry, I- I didn't want to lie to anyone but he wanted to keep it discreet, which I understand, he is the King! And it was so confusing, and then, one night he got really drunk one night, and it worried me, he wasn't acting like himself, and told me he loved me, but, but I didn't know if I could believe him. And he was getting all touchy and doe eyed, and I didn't know what was really what he wanted because it was all so sudden. So I ran! I ran because I was so scared, and- and- and-" Charlie and Angel both hugged you and tried to shushed you through your crying.

"It's ok, no one is mad at you. That sounds like a hard position to be in, it sounds like there was a lot of confusion on both sides," Charlie said.

"Confusion?" you sniffled, "Is that why he hasn't called to schedule with me again?"

Charlie and Angel looked at each other then back to you, "You didn't ban him then?"

You blinked, "WHAT?! Why on earth would anyone think I blocked him?! No! I freaked out and went on a trip for a few days to clear my head. I came back and I was told that he said he would call to reschedule, and then he just never did! I thought he hated me!"

"No!" Charlie cried, "No, Oh my god, he is a total wreck without you! He misses you like crazy! He thinks he was put on your "No Kiss List" or something"

"We can't even say your name without him shuttin' down and lookin' like we killed his dog or somethin'," Angel added, Charlie gave him a look, "What?! It's true!"

You sat down on the couch and stared out for a minute, thinking, "Why didn't he come to ask me himself?"

Charlie shrugged, "He doesn't remember what happened that night, he is convinced that he hurt you terribly and that it's why you banned him. He didn't want to hurt you so he respected that wish. We tried to get him to come tonight but he was scared in case you really had banned him."

You thought for a few more moments, who could have caused this? Who would have done this to you both. Your eyes widened. No, could this have been... did Cynthhhhia do this? Would she have been the one to make the calls that day since that was her punishment. You were pretty sure, but you didn't want to act without proof. You clenched your fists, starting to fill with rage.

"Is he at the hotel?" They nodded. You thought again, "Can you take me to him?" They nodded again with more excitement.

"I have just one question for you, before we go," Charlie started, looking into your eyes, "Tell me truthfully, do you actually care about my dad, not just for an income, but as a person?"

You took Charlie's hands in your own, "Charlie, I really do... more than anything... in fact... I'm pretty sure I'm in love with him." Charlie and Angel squealed and jumped up and down.

"That's all I needed to hear, let's do this!" Charlie declared.

You took a few minutes to get dressed, and soon you were off to see Lucifer again. Cynthhhhia eyed you a little as you left, wondering what you were doing with the most famous porn star in the Pride Ring and the Princess of Hell. She rolled her eyes and went back to chatting it up with her next client out it the lobby, it was probably nothing of substance, and she already had big enough fish to fry to keep her focused on herself. Although, she did briefly amuse herself with the idea of seducing the Princess' father, oh how wonderful a dream that would be, but she knew better than to put more thought into that. Why would the King of Hell ever need a prostitute? She laughed to herself.

You, on the other hand, were so full of fear and excitement at the idea of seeing actually Lucifer again, it felt like a dream and you were scared to wake up. But if Charlie and Angel's reaction was any indication of anything, maybe Brooklyn had been right after all.

______________________________________________________________

Thank you for putting up with torment! I made sure to get through this one quickier so that there was a return of hope. Next chapter they will finally talk in out, and then... a certain someone may see justice 😈

As usual, leave a comment if you want added to the taglist so that you can get notifications when future chapters drop! xoxo, dany (OMG there are so many of you!😍 Please let me know if the tag isn't working for you) Taglist :(red names are not tagging for some reason 😢)

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juniperskye · 6 months

Text

Without You

Sneak Peek: Aaron and you have been dating for over a year now…the thing is, the BAU team has no idea. When Aaron does something reckless that could cost him his life, will you expose the relationship you have worked so hard to keep under wraps?

Aaron Hotchner x BAU Fem Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 2371

Warnings: One use of y/n, age gap, mentions of anxiety/anxiety attack, some language, canon typical violence, mentions of death, explosion, BAU case details (similar to those of s7e23), severe emotional pain, mentions of Haley’s death, mention of Jack, secret relationship, JJ is still the media liaison (it just fit better for the plot) if I missed any – let me know!

Not edited - please be kind.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Aaron Hotchner had very quickly become your best friend. Your friendship had come so naturally, despite a pretty significant age gap. After two years of what could only be described as painfully obvious yearning from both parties, Aaron finally gained the courage to ask you to dinner. Even though it took two weeks before you could actually act on that invitation, the date had gone better than expected. Aaron had been a perfect gentleman; bringing you flowers, opening your door, holding your hand, paying for your meal, actually listening when you spoke.

That’s why it had been so easy to fall in love with him. Things with Aaron truly had been effortless, falling into a comfortable routine in which you would drive to his place after work, relieve the babysitter, get Jack started on homework while you got dinner going. Since meeting Jack, back before you’d even begun dating Aaron, you were one of his favorite people. You had spoiled Jack since you’d met the boy, he was just so sweet, and he’d reminded you of your nephews…it was easy to spend time with him. Aaron would come home to Jack helping set the table and you plating up the food. He’d wrap you up in an embrace and the three of you would sit and enjoy your meal while discussing how your days went (mostly Jack talking about school).

The one thing in your relationship that had not been effortless was keeping it a secret from your team. There had already been much speculation as to whether or not Aaron and you had feelings for one another amongst the agents. Dave was the one who pestered Aaron the most, constantly encouraging him to take a chance on love, that it wouldn’t always end like it had with Haley. In your case it had been Penelope, she and you had grown close over your time at the BAU, and she could see the tell-tale signs of a blossoming crush for your superior.

The two of you hadn’t initially planned to hide your relationship, but after many late-night conversations about it and a lengthy pros and cons list, you had determined, for the time being, keeping things quiet was the best option. That was nearly eleven months ago. You and Aaron had been together for about a year and a half, living together for four months…things had not been easy. You guys had to work hard to keep your feelings at bay on tough missions. There had been an instance of you getting stabbed by an unsub, thankfully the wound was superficial, and you were fine, but it had taken everything in Aaron not to run to you and take you into his arms. That was one of many hardships you had faced, but none of those would have prepared you for today.

A call had come in to the BAU at 9:53 am. The call rang to Aaron’s direct line, which meant it was a time sensitive case, usually a child abduction or in this case, a hostage situation. Aaron came out of his office swiftly, calling everyone’s attention without even speaking.

“There is a hostage situation at First Union bank. We’ve been called in by Virgina PD, who is already on the scene and SWAT is currently on their way as well. Everyone needs to gather their things and head to the garage” Aaron gave his orders, and everyone sprang into action.

As you all made your way to the government issued SUVs, Aaron continued briefing everyone and he gave out assignments.

“Alright Garcia and Reid, I want you two in the mobile command unit digging into our unsubs, we need to identify them. JJ, I need you to control the media with this, I don’t want any details getting out without my approval. Morgan and Prentiss go check in with SWAT and go over our plan. Y/N and Dave you will take point on the negotiations. Understood?” Aaron looked to everyone for confirmation.

There were collective nods, and everyone went to their separate posts to get started. You and Dave made your way over to one of the command center tents, discussing with the officers there that you would be in charge of the negotiations. They filled you in on what had happened thus far, and you worked to devise your initial approach. Dave and you had made contact with the unsubs, they were demanding a helicopter and one million dollars (a truly ridiculous request on their part). Approximately fifteen minutes later, Garcia and Reid rushed to where you, Dave and Aaron were standing.

“We have identified the unsubs! The two men are brothers, Michael and James Snyder. They are connected to at least eight other bank robberies around the northeastern United Staes. The woman, her name is Katiya Kuznetsov she is not connected to the robberies, but she is flagged under the FBI’s most wanted. She’s thought to be the mastermind behind dozens of explosions in North America from the last nine months.” Garcia explained. Aaron radioed to request the bomb squad.

“Why would she be working with these two? Robbing banks isn’t quite the same M.O. as blowing up buildings.” You questioned.

“We looked into it, and it seems that she may have connections to someone who owns a safety deposit box at this bank. We don’t know what is in it, but we were able to narrow down the list of potentials.” Reid answered.

“This changes things, we need to get in there and apprehend them. We need to get the civilians out. I think our best option would be for us to breach with SWAT and local PD.” Aaron explained.

“Hotch, that seems a little drastic don’t you think? If we just barge in there, who’s to say they don’t just start shooting the hostages. Dave and I were making progress and now that we know who they are, perhaps we can get them to break.” You could feel your anxiety eating away at you, the thought of Aaron barging in there terrified you.

“Sorry kid, but I’m with Aaron on this one. We were making some progress, but not enough and given this new information, I think it is safe to assume that there is probably a bomb in the bank somewhere, the sooner we get the hostages out, the better.” Rossi shut your idea down.

You could feel the bile rising up your throat. Your palms were starting to sweat and your pulse quickening. You knew what was about to happen, Aaron was going to give out assignments which meant he was diving headfirst into danger while he ensured your safety.

“Alright here’s what we will do, Morgan and I will go in the front, try to talk the unsubs down. Prentiss and Reid you will go through the back, with SWAT and the bomb squad try to locate the explosive and disable it. Garcia, I want you to keep eyes inside the bank the whole time, keep us posted of everything you see through comms. Dave and you can stay out here and monitor the phones, I want you to call in to distract them while we enter, I think it might buy us some leeway.” Aaron gave the assignments.

You gave Aaron a pointed look, one that expressed all of your nerves and anxiety. He looked back at you, it was stern as far as any onlooker could tell, but you could see the softness flash across his features. He was silently telling you that everything would be okay, and for a moment, you believed that it would be.

Time seemed to slow then. Everyone was moving, following orders hastily. But you, you were glued to your spot…Dave’s hand on your shoulder is what finally snapped you out of your thoughts.

“He’ll be okay kid.” Dave tried to soothe your nerves.

You called into the bank to try and steal the attention of the unsubs as Aaron had requested, all the while agents were moving through the bank. Suddenly Garcia’s voice rang over the comms.

“One of the unsubs slipped away. I’m assuming to get to the explosive. I am working to get the blueprints of the bank so we can figure out where it is set up.” Garcia rushed.

Gunshots echoed through the air, the comms were buzzing with shouts from Aaron, Morgan, Prentiss, Dave and some other voices you couldn’t pin down.

The fact that you could hear Aaron’s voice helped to calm your nerves as he clearly hadn’t been shot. His next words soothed your mind even more so.

“We have Michael and James in custody, Morgan is walking the hostages out now. I am going to go and assist the others in finding Katiya and the explosive.” Aaron called over the comms.

Dave could see you tense at Aaron’s words; he once again laid his hand on your shoulder in hopes to ease your mind. Morgan walked over to you and Dave after placing the unsubs in the police cars that were standing by.

What happened next brought your world crashing down.

The silence over the comms had been eerie. Everything paused and then it happened. The bank had exploded, right before your eyes. You had been far enough away that the blast hadn’t knocked you over, but it still left your ears ringing.

Had Morgan and Dave’s ears not already been ringing they definitely would have been after the scream that ripped through your body.

“NOO!!!!!” You screamed.

You couldn’t form a coherent thought; you sobbed and lurched your body forward in hopes of going to find Aaron. Before you could make it three steps, Morgan had his arms around your waist holding you back. He turned you around and held you while you pounded your fists against his chest.

“Sweetheart you can’t go in there. I know we have people in there and waiting for them to get out is going to feel like an eternity. But until we get any sort of confirmation, we need to try and stay positive.” Morgan explained.

Garcia and JJ joined you, Dave and Morgan, tears streaming down their faces, all of them silently hoping your team family would make it out unscathed.

You could feel it coming on, the more time had passed. Your breaths were shallow, body clammy, your vision was going blurry, you were having a hard time keeping yourself upright. Dave was the one to notice and lead you away from the group, he held your hands and was saying something about you needing to match his breathing.

“Dave I…I c-can’t. W-what if he doesn’t make it out? I w-would d-die without him Dave!” You hiccupped.

“He’s going to make it out. But remember that you are strong and no matter what happens you will make it through this.” Dave reminds you.

“No! Dave, you don’t understand without Aaron, sure, the rain would fall, the children would play, the tides would change but I-I would die.” You looked away from Dave momentarily “I die without you.” You whispered.

You saw heads start turning in the direction of the alleyway that was adjacent to what was once the bank, as you followed suit, the bile returned – easing its way up your throat. A body bag, with no other signs of Aaron. Your mind jumped to the worst-case scenario and your legs finally gave out. Dave tried to catch you as you fell to the ground, another gut-wrenching sob ripping its way through you.

You didn’t register the loss of Dave’s arms around your shoulders, not until he moved to pull you up off the ground and turn you in the direction of the group of agents making their way towards you. You tried to protest, telling Dave that nothing mattered anymore, until he physically turned your chin towards them.

“Aaron?” It came out as an exhale, below a whisper.

“Aaron?” This time was a bit louder, gaining your voice back.

“Aaron!” A shout this time as you could see his eyes scanning the crowd for you.

His gaze snapped to you as you ran towards him, looking him over to ensure that he is unharmed before you launch yourself into his arms. He lifted you fully and allowed you to wrap your legs around his waist, he could feel your tears soaking the collar of his shirt. He gently shushed you assuring you that he was okay and that everyone was safe.

“T-the b-body bag, I-I thought it. I thought it was you, Aaron.”

“It was Katiya, she was trying to detonate it when we found her, we had just enough time to get to some sort of vault, but when it went off, the debris trapped us in. Honey, I am so sorry I scared you. I’m alright though, not even a scratch.” Aaron brushed his hand over the back of your head as you brought your feet back to the ground.

He looked into your eyes, he could tell that your brain was trying to process everything, all the emotions you had just been feeling, along with the relief you must be feeling now. He couldn’t help himself when he leaned in and kissed you. It was a kiss that said I was terrified of losing you but we’re safe and here together now. As he pulled away, you rested your foreheads against one another’s.

You knew that there would be tons of questions from the team but honestly in this moment you couldn’t care less because Aaron was safe and back in your arms. This moment that you were sharing allowed a few things to become clear for you and Aaron. You knew that he was the one for you, nobody else, and you were sure you wouldn’t survive losing him. He came to realize that it was time for him to pull that ring from the back of his sock drawer and finally ask you for forever, he thought that maybe it was time for him to step back and take that promotion Strauss had continuously offered. All he knew was that he couldn’t risk what you two had. Without you…he couldn’t even finish the thought because that wasn’t even an option.

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writershapeholeonthedoor · 6 months

Text

Tattooed heart

Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have tattoos everywhere and your girlfriend suffers from severe anxiety. You learned to walk around with Sharpies to help her out.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. TW for anxiety attacks.

MASTERLIST

The room was crowded to the point where you couldn’t even see the exit doors in the back.

That always made you a bit nervous, of course, but mostly because it usually meant your interview would go on forever until people were satisfied by it. Those types of venues were always endless, but it was even worse when there were so many people attending the panels. Don’t get it wrong, you love attending the coms and meeting the fans to debate the characters and movies, and just the entire MCU universe as a whole, but you were only human and, after spending so long being a part of this, you got a bit tired.

Although the interview was going on forever, you weren’t surprised by the amount of people reunited to see you guys talking. It was hard to have most of the Marvel actors in one single interview, after all, so you were already expecting people to crowd the room and want to ask everyone a million questions. The new Avengers movie was coming up, the trailer had dropped just the day prior, and people were excited to know more. You couldn’t blame them.

You had been listening to Evans give out an overly complex reply to a question someone made him for a while now when you noticed Elizabeth squirming in her chair beside you. She was sitting to your right at the large table where you all were and she had answered a few questions as well, although that was the first time you noticed that she wasn’t moving out of boredom or to adjust in her chair again. She was restless, you noticed by the way she looked down at her legs and by the way her fingers pulled at her dress as if she was trying to get rid of a crinkle that didn’t exist.

Over the years, you learned to read her.

When you first met, three years ago, you were immediately drawn to Elizabeth. At the time, she had red hair thanks to her Marvel character, she was wearing black clothes and she had a fake scar above her eyebrow since you met between takes of the new movie you were both going to be a part of. That wasn’t your first Marvel movie, neither was hers, but that was the first time you were going to share the screen. You had heard about her before, obviously, but nothing had prepared you for how it would feel to meet Elizabeth Olsen in person.

You felt attracted to her since the first day, but you weren’t brave enough to make a move, so you spent the next two months of shooting crushing on her in silence - at least to her because you sang like a canary to all of your castmates to the point where they had to make an intervention because no one could take more of your daydreaming about Elizabeth without doing anything about it. That worked, though, and you found yourself sweating like crazy just a week before the movie wrapped while you waited for Elizabeth to finish her scenes for the day.

You had been nervous for no reason, as your castmates predicted, because Elizabeth said ‘yes’ after you managed to spit out your question and you both went for your first date two days later. That night, Elizabeth admitted she wanted to ask you out since the first day too, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“I’m glad you’re more brave than I am,” she whispered shyly when you were holding hands on top of the table. “I’m too anxious to have managed to actually ask you out.”

But that had been it.

You have been inseparable ever since.

Well, besides when you were both working, of course. You hadn’t made any more movies together since your characters took different turns, but you and Elizabeth were able to move heaven and Earth to make your relationship work no matter what.

As the years went by, you learned to read Elizabeth as easily as an open book. You knew when she was stressed and needed to spend some time in her garden to relax. You knew when Elizabeth was cooking because she wanted to, when she was doing it because she had to eat and when she was stress-cooking. You knew when she liked the movie you were watching by the way she bit her lip and when she couldn’t care less about what was on the TV by the way she kept sighing. There were many little things about Elizabeth that you took notice of over the years, things that you carefully stocked in your memories because they were all details that made you love her more and more every day.

However, there was one thing you made a bigger effort to keep track of.

Her anxiety.

Elizabeth has been suffering from severe anxiety for many years now. She had talked about it in interviews and other things, but no one could understand the magnitude of her anxiety attacks unless they experienced it in person. You had been there to a fair share of them since you met, from the smaller ones where she would complain about feeling like a small weight in her chest to the bigger ones where you had to rush her to the hospital because you honestly thought she was about to have a heart attack. Since that day, you had vowed to always be attuned to the signals of her crisis so you could help Elizabeth get out of them before things got too hard for her to handle.

Elizabeth used to apologize every single time about it, about how she sometimes wouldn’t want to leave the house, how sometimes she would ask you to leave the restaurant that took you both so long to get a table at, how sometimes she needed to sit in complete silence to get herself together, but you always made sure to tell her it wasn’t her fault. Elizabeth had struggled with anxiety, panic attacks and social anxiety for many years now not because she wanted to, but because the media had chased her since she was young and she had grown in fear. That was something she struggled with and something you could help her with.

Or try your best, at the very least.

Since you knew about all of this, you easily realized Elizabeth’s anxiety was making an appearance, slipping through her very strong grip. You could see by the way her green eyes started moving around without focusing on anything, how her jaw clenched, how her breath became heavier and how her fingers kept picking at her dress. Evans was still talking and there was a microphone in front of you, not to mention how there were literally hundreds of eyes and cameras staring at you at that moment, so you couldn’t take her hands and ask her to breathe with you like you usually did.

You had to think fast, however, because Elizabeth’s anxiety escalates quickly and you wouldn’t want that to happen in a room filled with strangers since that was probably the reason why it was happening anyway. Elizabeth had gotten better at dealing with attending those events, giving interviews and talking with fans, but that didn’t mean she didn’t struggle every once in a while. It was still something that wasn’t easy for her, something that made her natural instincts ask her to run away as fast as she could.

Those long interviews made you tired, but they absolutely terrified Elizabeth. She hated the crowded room because she couldn’t spot the exit and her brain would play little tricks at her saying that, if something bad happened, there weren’t enough emergency doors to take everyone out safely. The cameras pointed at her made her overly conscious of every move she made, afraid of what people might capture to spread around. The screams and yells that the fans let go every once in a while made her ears hurt and her insides churn. It was awful.

Averting your eyes so people wouldn’t notice you had been watching her, you placed a gentle hand on her thigh under the table to offer her some comfort. That made Elizabeth jump in surprise, though, since she hadn’t been expecting it, so you quickly removed your hand and offered her a small smile in apology when she glanced at you. You felt bad about it, especially when you noticed the fear in her eyes, but you still tried to calm her down by offering her a smile.

Some of her tension washed away and her shoulders relaxed enough for you to feel safe to touch her again. When your hand touched her thigh this time around, Elizabeth was expecting it and she allowed the touch with a sigh. She threw you a thankful look before turning her head to the side to pay attention to what was being said in case anyone decided to pull her into the conversation, something you also tried to do.

Luckily - so damn luck, indeed - the interview ended just a few minutes after that. You played your part waving at the fans and offering them smiles, but you still held Elizabeth’s hand to pull her away from there as fast as you could without actually running. You were both sitting in the middle of the large table so it wasn’t an easy task. However, your eyes met Zendaya’s eyes for a moment and the girl wasted no time trying to discreetly move everyone out of the way so you could walk past with Elizabeth.

You took your girlfriend backstage and avoided everyone who tried to talk with you on the way until you found a quiet corner to sit down with her. You sat her down on top of a large technical equipment box and you jumped up to sit beside her, already shoving your hand inside your pocket to remove the three Sharpies you had taken with you that day. Green, blue and lilac were the colors you took from the case before leaving the hotel room that afternoon, and you didn’t think twice before handing them to her.

“Come on, I’m your canvas,” you told her lightly while reaching out your arm to her.

Your right arm was filled with tattoos from your shoulders to your wrist. That was something that made many casting directors frown to, but you loved it. That’s the way you find to express yourself and something you cherish. The tattoos were all blackwork, which means they didn’t have any colors added to them, and they were all different drawings that entwined between them thanks to the amazing work of your tattoo artist.

The first time Elizabeth ever drew on your skin was when you took her to the hospital that fateful day. You had seen your girlfriend looking so sad and scared lying down in a hospital bed after the doctor left saying it had been an anxiety attack that you just had to do something. You knew Elizabeth liked to use her hands to help herself calm down because she would run to her garden and spend hours there tending to the plants, putting her hands in the dirt and delicately touching every leaf. That’s why you took the pen that the doctor left behind without noticing and started to look for something she could write on, but there was nothing.

So, you just handed her the pen and told her to write something on your arm.

Elizabeth had looked at you like you were insane for even suggesting it and it took you a while to convince her to give it a try, however, it played out perfectly in the end. Elizabeth spent hours using the blue pen to color your tattoos and it did wonderful things to her anxiety. When the doctor returned, he was happy to say she was good to go and you were just glad that Elizabeth was back to her usual self asking you if you could stop somewhere to eat.

It wasn’t a perfect solution. It was temporary since it usually just calmed her down enough to keep going for a few more hours, but Elizabeth still needed to fully relax in silence, go to her garden or take a warm bath to avoid any real crisis. But that didn’t stop you from buying several Sharpies from different colors to have them around anytime she might need them. You made a habit out of walking around with them inside your pockets and Elizabeth stopped resisting using them to draw on you.

Sure, Elizabeth suggested she buy a notepad to carry with her, but you told her you didn’t mind being her personal canvas. You liked how she touched your skin gently with one hand while she used the other one to color your tattoos. You found it mesmerizing how she managed to make different details every time she drew on you. And you were just glad to be able to help her. Of course, you told Elizabeth it was okay if she preferred to have some paper to draw on, but luckily she didn’t argue against painting your arm instead.

It worked.

And that would have to do because you couldn’t take her to the hotel room you were sharing yet and it was clear that Elizabeth wasn’t feeling great.

“No,” your girlfriend said without taking the Sharpies from you. “We still have more interviews today.”

“Exactly,” you argued. “That’s fine. You know I don’t mind it.”

“People will make questions,” Elizabeth insisted, but it held no real resistance behind her words anymore. She was already taking the pens from you and you smiled happily at that.

“Let them,” was your reply.

A second later, Elizabeth took the green Sharpie to start painting one of the tattoos on the back of your arm.

When your castmates found you both, your skin was a mix of green, blue and lilac already, and Elizabeth's full attention was on the task in her hands. She didn’t look about to lose her mind anymore, her breathing was normal again, her hands weren’t shaking and her frown was purely because she was trying to keep the colors inside the line and not because she was in panic. Your friends gave you space because they didn’t want her to feel crowded again, but Holland lent you his jacket while you were all walking to the next interview to avoid questions and Elizabeth kissed your lips just before going on stage.

“You’re the best girlfriend in the world,” Elizabeth whispered against your skin.

You shrugged it off and leaned to kiss her forehead. “I love you,” you reminded her gently aware that you would climb every mountain and swim every ocean to make her happy.

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #celebrity x reader #marvel #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #fanfic #creative writing #my writing #drabble #fluff #slight angst

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sxffrxn · 7 months

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when love strikes OP81

An Oscar Piastri x Reader, enemies to lovers story

Part One Part Two

Summary: Oscar Piastri and Y/N have a long-lasting feud, nobody knows why. Do they themselves even know why?

Warnings: Reader is very British, swearing, implying the C word (never said), more swearing, probably grammar mistakes, severe lack of interaction between Oscar and Y/N in this one - sorryyy

Word Count: 2.2k

The blazing sun sank low over the horizon, casting a golden haze over the Bahrain International Circuit. The descent of the marigold ball could only signal one thing.

The official beginning to the 2023 Formula One Season.

Y/N was completely focused into her pre-race traditions, firstly consisting of a precise and perfect set of joint and limb stretches. Although, to some, it appears that you don’t need any physical preparation before clambering into the vehicle, Y/N found that if she didn’t, her race would be ruined - call it superstition or something.

The one time that Y/N got caught up in media - and gossip around the paddock - was the first, and only, DNF of her Formula One career. After suffering a loss of power in the 23rd lap of the Italian Grand Prix in Monza, Y/N had to retire the car and make the devastating walk of shame back to the garage.

“1,2,3,4,5” she counted slowly under her breath, dropping her left arm to then hold her right arm stretched across her back in a somewhat awkward position “1,2,3,4,5, breathe” was whispered as she sighed out a breath of anxiety and panic.

Y/N raced for the newly appointed 11th team on the grid, the prestigious Lamborghini. Albeit not having a massive history in Formula One, Y/N saw it as the best offer of her career. In her rookie season - 2022, Y/N raced for Scuderia Alpha Tauri, alongside her longtime friend Yuki Tsunoda. The two were very close, so much so that if you told Yuki something very important and secretive, Y/N would 101% know in the space of an hour.

When news broke that Y/N would not be re-signing with Alpha Tauri for the 2023 season, all hell broke loose. The media and press were so quick to assume that she was ‘not cut out for Formula One’ or that she was secretly dating about 13 of the 19 other drivers. However when it was announced that Lamborghini would be represented in Formula MotorSports, some fans were quick to put two and two together. I mean, the first female driver to score above 75 points in Formula One history - let alone her rookie season - was to be out of the sport before being given a proper chance? That was too crazy. Both Y/N and Robert Shwartzman had signed for the team in 2023, the two had been very well acquainted beforehand due to the history of them in the Prema racing team in Formula Two. Some even dubbed them as the funniest drivers among them all because of the frequent YouTube challenge videos uploaded of them both (and their coworkers I suppose but none of them even came close to being on the same level as Y/N and Robert).

Along with a new team, there came new rookies in the 2023 season. This included one of Y/N’s biggest rivals since her days in Formula Three.

Oscar bloody Piastri.

The two were infamous for being at each other's necks anytime they were put in close proximity to one another, this led to many PR meetings and a whole lot of complications on the grid. The press, being the vultures they are, were so very quick to pin the blame wholey on Y/N, this - understandably - made her despise the aussie even more. Why were the media making her out to be the bad guy when they don’t know the story?

But to be completely honest, neither of the two could pinpoint when they went from being teammates to borderline enemies. It could have been when Oscar clipped the back of Y/N’s car, in a Formula Three race, causing her to spin out and injure her arm from the impact. Or maybe it was when Y/N pushed past Oscar afterwards, purposefully knocking her uninjured arm against his, and muttering a very colourful insult under her breath - she 100% meant for him to hear it.

When Y/N was scrolling through twitter and came across Oscar’s tweet declaring that he will not be racing for Alpine despite their statement, she undoubtedly did let out a small laugh at the embarrassment Alpine must be facing, before reminding herself who he was. After that, Y/N did, albeit very secretively, keep up with all the news on Oscar’s debut in Formula One. Maybe she missed the rivalry on track that determined her to do better, or perhaps she was just keeping up with the competition; the latter is what she kept telling herself is what she was doing.

Just as Y/N was getting ready to leave her motorhome, a knock sounded at her door.

“One second!” she called, and rushed to pick up her helmet. When she opened the door, she was met with the grin of her old teammate.

“Hiya Yuki, you ready for the new season?” she asked, her tone was cheerful, masking the anxiety. The problem she was facing was the unpredictability of the car. Of course she had gone through preseason testing, practice and qualifying without a hitch, but who knows how the car would perform for a long period of time?

“Hey Y/N, I’m feeling quite nervous to be completely honest. Are you not?” he wondered. Y/N let out a laugh,

“No mate, I am fucking shitting myself I can’t lie to you” she said lightheartedly as they begun the walk towards the garages.

“Well I understand that. Good luck for the race” he said, patting Y/N on the back and veering off in the direction to his garage. Y/N called out good luck to him too, and stepped inside the garage. She didn’t think she would get used to the yellowish interior of the Lamborghini garage, but to be completely honest, it was kind of growing on her. If it were some obnoxious fluorescent yellow, maybe she would have been second guessing her move to the new team, but the amber and gold hues that surrounded her did not cause a headache.

The car was absolutely gorgeous, the hints of gold detailed the body of the car from front to back, and the main body of the car being black with carbon fibre helped to really enhance the beauty of the design.

As her race engineer ran through the strategy for this first race, Y/N peered outside and accidentally locked eyes with a certain driver.

Oscar Piastri’s brown eyes almost stared into her soul, when she realised who she was having a stare-off with, the rolled her eyes in a dramatic manner and gave her sole attention to the race engineer, his name was Dan and he was a nice enough bloke, of course Y/N hadn’t really had the time to get to know him but so far he was polite and professional. All the best qualities.

The cars had just begun their warm up lap. Y/N sat comfortably in P7 in qualifying and she was feeling semi-confident with the car. To say it was comfortable would probably be an overstatement but compared to her Alpha Tauri car, it wasn’t too shabby.

“And it’s lights out in Bahrain for the 2023 season!”

Y/N got away quite nicely, managing to pass to P5 in the opening corner. Luckily, she was able to keep that pace for most of the race. As she was gaining on that P4 position, Dan called through her radio, telling her to push. She did just that and was able to take the fourth position. With just 2 laps to go, Dan told her to just defend to the finish line. Unfortunately, in the final corner she had just a little bit of understeer causing her to be pushed to fifth. That wasn’t too bad? Her race engineer called through the radio to let Y/N know her position and she was elated with joy.

“Let’s goooo!!” she spoke through the channel, “Thanks guys! This car is quite something!” she continued.

After the podium presentation, Y/N found herself being whisked away into a hurricane of interviews, most of which asking her the same questions with the same pre approved answers.

“Were your hopes high joining a brand new Formula One team?”

“Did you expect to get the result you did today?”

“How did the car feel?”

“Are you proud with the performance of the car?”

However one interviewer veered off course from the actual racing, and instead started to quiz Y/N on her own personal life. In her rookie season, Y/N was withdrawn and shy, hardly interacting with the media. This new season must have obviously meant she was keen to share every minute detail about herself.

Of course the media knew about Oscar and Y/N’s feud off track, it was hard to ignore them giving each other dirty glares across the paddock whenever they found the chance to.

“So, Y/N, why do you have a longstanding rivalry with Mclaren’s new driver, Oscar Piastri?” he spoke. To be completely honest, Y/N was panicking, she had never blanked in an interview before but this question was quite unexpected. Luckily she was able to compose herself and spoke;

“Well it's not necessarily just a rivalry between me and Oscar, everyone in motorsports is determined to perform better than others. And me and Oscar, being on the same team for a period of time, along with all other teammates on the grid know the expectation to do better than them, your teammate is your biggest competition.” In her mind, Y/N was patting herself on the back for such a calculated response in a short time, however the reporter clapped back with another question.

“But you and Oscar are no longer teammates and were not even in the same series last year, why has your displeasure followed you two since then? Has something happened behind the scenes?” Y/N had to bite her tongue to stop her from saying ‘no it was all broadcasted live, the prick bashed into the back of me’ but she was reserved and just shook her head and smiled.

“I wouldn’t say displeasure, just competition, if you look at other drivers on the grid, are they getting questioned on their past with another driver? No.” Y/N cocked her head as if she was genuinely asking a question. Finally, her assistant managed to grab her away after the awkward encounter on the pretence of going over some data.

When she was a good distance away from the cameras, Y/N let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding. God could that have been any more stressful? Her assistant told her that she wasn’t actually needed for data review yet and that she was free to relax wherever she pleases. Y/N smiled at her and said a thanks before bolting off to the catering. God she was so hungry, she could eat a hors- no way that's gross! She was so hungry, she could demolish at least 3 full sandwiches.

Her mind wandered as she sat down with her food, why are both Y/N and Oscar so petty, I mean the crash was years ago?! Anyways, Y/N decided she didn’t care about the ‘right’ or ‘logical’ thing to do - apologise for making such a fuss about nothing - and instead concurred that the best solution was to continue to act as though Oscar had done something crazy like kill her firstborn child.

Y/N stood up with a stretch making her back pop, and took her rubbish to the bin, as she was leaving, her eyes glanced over to a flash of orange. Ugh. She physically rolled her eyes. What she didn’t realise though, is that the orange was approaching her. Y/N had turned around to walk to the garage and go over her and her teammates’ performance. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around to meet the face of a certain Mclaren driver. This one, however, is the one she would have most preferred.

“What’s up with you and Oscar? I saw you two glaring at each other and then in your interview, all they did was ask about Oscar.” Lando asked with one eyebrow raised.

“Hm? I don’t know what you’re talking about?” she told him innocently, flashing him a smile.

“No, no. I asked him first. He says it’s because you brake checked him in Formula Three and got hurt.” Lando replied digging further, God he really is nosey.

“I did not brake check him. He rammed his car into the back of mine!” Y/N snapped back, pointing accusatory into Lando’s chest. Lando raised his hands in surrender,

“Hey, hey, don’t shoot the messenger, I was just curious.” Lando quickly replied. Y/N huffed and rolled her eyes. Y/N turned to walk away after saying a quick bye to Lando.

Y/N came to an absolutely shocking revelation

Oscar Piastri is a massive pain in the arse.

A/N: hey guys!! first part is officially out. I hope you guys enjoy. If you have any requests for what to include in later chapter then please don’t be shy to. Also please correct any errors it is greatly appreciated. Hope you guys have a lovely day !!!

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #fanfic #formula one x reader #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri #formula one #f1 #romance #reader x oscar piastri #oscar piastri x self-insert #f1 x female driver #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #op81 #oscarpiastri81 #sxffrxn

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songmingisthighs · 3 months

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Pitiful, You're Pitiful

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ch. ii

group : ateez

pairing : aged up!wooyoung × aged up!reader

genre : angst, mature

word count : 3 k

warning : adultery, cheating, medical condition (?), mentions of loss/miscarriage, negative depiction of wooyoung

a/n : happy valentine's <3

It had been two months since the night you were intimate with Wooyoung and it was still suffocating to think about.

It hurts a lot actually. But you can't let your sadness take over you, especially when Wooyoung hasn't shown any concrete signs that you should be worried other than your feelings. So you kept it to yourself, you kept your anxiety in and with every trip and team dinner or client meeting, you convinced yourself that he was doing what he said he was doing no matter how nauseated it made you feel. The stress must've gotten to you badly because the nausea was starting to become unbearable and even made you vomit almost every day. You figured it was psychosomatic but since it had affected your housework (aka Wooyoung complaining that you were up late several times, Dayoung grumbling under her breath about you not even caring to make her breakfast, and Woohyun refusing to go to kindergarten because he was worried over you).

Today started quite roughly.

"MOM!"

You barely held onto the countertop of your sink when you heard your daughter huffing from the other side of the door. The pain in your head and the discomfort from your stomach made your body sway slightly and the second round of angry knocks felt like a hammer to your head.

"Mom, seriously, I'm gonna be late!" Dayoung sighed sharply. You could just imagine the look on her face and while you love your children to bits, the way your body was practically shutting down on you, it felt like you wanted to scream back at her to give you a break. But you kept reminding yourself that you're the parent, she's an angsty teenager and you can't create a hostile environment for your youngest.

By whatever force that was working in your favour, you managed to walk yourself to the door and though your hands were cold, clammy, and trembling, you were able to open the door to see your daughter glaring at you. "S-sorry sweetie, mommy's not feeling well right now," you sighed, wiping the cold sweat off your forehead with your palm.

Dayoung hated the way you referred to yourself as if she was still a child or something and she let you know her disdain with a scoff and a roll of her eyes. "If you were so against me taking the bus in the morning, you could've at least made an effort to be punctual. I had to dress Woohyun, you know that? He and his milk-drenched chin almost ruined my cardigan and uniform. How is it that I'm doing things you're supposed to? Couldn't you have gotten drunk during the weekends or something?" she sneered, oblivious that it had been a while since you touched alcohol because when you tried to have a glass the week before, you ended up throwing up for some reason. The throbbing was coming back along with annoyance and you couldn't help the sharp exhale that you let out, "Can you not be like this right now? You being disrespectful won't make me move any faster." At least Dayoung had the decency to shut her mouth but from the corner of your eyes, you could see her fists clenching. "Where's your dad anyways? He knew I was not feeling well, he could've taken you and Woohyun to school." Although you were sighing and struggling to move without keeling over, you still forced your body to cooperate, determined to prioritize your motherly duties above letting sickness take over you completely. Dayoung only leaned on the wall while texting her friend, completely aware that you had almost fallen over a couple of times as you changed into your jeans, "I don't know, Daddy seemed to be in a rush this morning. He went out like an hour earlier than usual, humming and mumbling something about meeting someone for coffee before going to the academy."

The lighthearted tone Dayoung used didn't hide the heaviness of those words. You had been rather preoccupied as a mom to really follow up on your instinct so when you heard that, you felt a chill down your spine. For a moment, you couldn't help but wonder what or why you felt like that. As quick as that doubt came, you brushed the thought away as you grabbed your bag, rushed your children out the door, and loaded them into your car.

Being a parent was truly a wonder because for a moment, while focusing on your children, you felt like your body was mending itself. The headache was gone, your joints were not achy, and the bloated feeling in your stomach was relieved. Maybe it was stress, a psychosomatic symptom because you had a feeling that something was wrong with Wooyoung and because nothing did, your body directed the feeling towards your health. It's possible, the body is mysterious and things that make almost 0 sense can happen in a blink of an eye.

But once you found yourself all alone after taking Woohyun to his class, you slumped against the side of your car, clutching your head as the pain suddenly returned all at once. It was then and there that you realized that something was going on with you and you needed to get it checked out immediately.

On the way to the hospital, your mind was at war. It was plagued with scary scenarios like cancer one moment before the logical side of your brain reasoned that it could be something as simple as indigestion, acid reflux or even stomach flu. The anxiety didn't die down and you thought that at moments like this, you needed your partner, you needed your husband. Your husband who in the past had gone above and beyond to nurse you back to health even when it was just your allergy acting up. It was ironic that as you smiled and reminisced about the things your husband did for you in the past, your phone let out a long dial tone that let you know that you couldn't reach your husband for the 5th time. The anxiety bubbled up at the pit of your stomach as your fear went on automation, immediately associating Wooyoung not accepting your calls as a bad omen. One by one, your brain started ticking off possibilities such as stomach cancer, bowel obstruction, and kidney problems. Then your daughter's jabs started popping in your head, her jabs about how you drink a lot. It wasn't like you get drunk on wine twice a week like a ritual but it was never like that. You do enjoy the occasional glass but even then, it was slightly less than the amount people usually pour and it never surpassed you feeling tingly. But maybe you had accidentally subconsciously increased your intake and what you were experiencing was liver failure.

Out of all the diagnoses you were fearing, you honestly weren't expecting the doctor to tell you that you were pregnant.

As embarrassing as it was to admit, the moment the doctor revealed the diagnosis, it was like a punch to the gut and you vomited all over the ER floor. On the plus side, you no longer feel bloated.

"I can't be pregnant, there's no way. I haven't been intimate with my husband in a long while," you said after gulping down the water one of the nurses brought for you. "Blood tests are rarely wrong, ma'am," the doctor pulled her stool closer to you and sat down to look at you straight in the eyes, "When was the last time you were intimate with your husband?" It was both easy and hard for you to remember the last time you had sex with Wooyoung. You couldn't even call it making love because it wasn't. He fucked you to shut you up and left you alone like a washed-up carcass. The urge to scream and go crazy was high as it seemed like such a joke to get pregnant from that one time.

You wanted to laugh, scream, cry at how ironic the situation was. How when you tried so hard to grow your family with your husband, you were met with heartbreak. But now that things were verging on collapsing, you were suddenly blessed with a person you didn't even know you'd been waiting for. But your brain hadn't caught up to that point, still in disbelief and maybe even shock.

The doctor's voice was merely a murmur at that point. You couldn't focus, you couldn't really comprehend what she was saying because you were so deep in your thoughts, your bitter thoughts of the situation. You were worried because after what happened to your last pregnancy, it took you a long while to be okay again. There was even a period of time when Wooyoung was the only functioning parent, taking care of the role of both mom and dad while you recuperate. Of course, you weren't expecting to lose this pregnancy too. Who would do that? But the fear existed, the fear remained a part of you and as much as you want to shed it, it was so hard.

Nevertheless, you couldn't help but let your mind wander and suddenly flicker into hope. Hope that this baby will bring your husband back, bring him back to the way he was before the loss you both experienced. Hoping that his distance was because he was also waiting for this same little stranger.

"Hey, (y/n)!"

You turned around and saw Yunho jogging towards you, huffing.

When did you get out of the ER? You felt a buzz in your hand from your phone and frowned when you saw the message. When did you make an OB appointment?

Whatever the answer was, you immediately tried to shove your worries away and put on a smile, trying to appear normal or somewhat okay in front of your husband's friend.

Before you could greet him back, however, he cut you off, "I came as soon as I heard," he panted. "What?" you chuckled awkwardly, not understanding what he meant but slightly worried because you had thought someone saw you in the ER and heard what you and the doctor were talking about and informed other people. "How's Wooyoung? Was it really a heart attack? I heard he hit his head or something. Which room is he in?" It felt like you were the one who hit their head because you had no idea what Yunho was saying. You waved your hands in front of Yunho's face to stop his rants, "Whoah, Yunho, what are you talking about?" Now it was Yunho's turn to be confused. "I-I was informed by the academy's front desk that Wooyoung got hurt. They said they called Wooyoung in because he missed his special trainee class and they got information that he was hurt and that he was admitted here so I thought that he was with you."

In a flash, you turned and dashed to the information desk, Yunho hot on your tail. the both of you stayed close as you go up to the room Wooyoung was admitted in, worry evident in the way you both looked but it was definitely more prominent on you.

Once on the floor, you ran out first to the nurse's station before Yunho could even register that the elevator door had opened. Your hands accidentally slammed loudly on the hard surface of the counter, making Yunho and the nurses in the station to jump slightly in shock, "Hi, I-I'm looking for Jung Wooyoung, he was just admitted not too long ago," you were on the verge of crying because you were so worried and you felt and that you didn't even know your husband got hurt. The nurse checked her computer for a second before looking back at you, "He is on this floor but I'm afraid I can't let you visit him just yet. His wife is in there with him and considering the situation, we were instructed to let him get his rest first. Visitors are permitted once Mr Jung's doctor clears him and you will be notified by his wife." Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and so did Yunho at the revelation, "That... That can't be right, I'm his wife," you said, surprising the nurse. She produced a guest sign-in form on a clipboard and muttered to herself, "I- well, there was this lady who came in with him and she told the doctor that they were in their bedroom when Mr Jung had the accident. She mentioned- I- I think she mentioned that she was his partner, s-so I just assumed she was his wife because of the ring on his finger," she meekly showed you the signature on the clipboard but it looked unfamiliar.

"Yeon Harin? That's our backup dancer," Yunho scoffed from behind you, "What's she doing here with Wooyoung?"

Dread washed over you like the water from a river in winter. The look on your face was enough to let not only the nurse who talked to you but the other nurses around know what was going on. Guilt gnawed at them when they saw your face paled and eyes glazed over as if they were the ones who committed such betrayal towards you. However, it took Yunho a moment to realize. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes lingered on the name as his brain replayed the information he received. Dots connecting one by one, Yunho felt like he was being punched in the gut. "Oh fuck," he cussed under his breath, realizing what just happened. Realizing what his revelation of the identity did, "(y/n), a-"

Before he could ask if you were alright, you had pushed yourself away from the station, eye unfocused as if searching for a way to escape. "I... T-thank you... C-can, uh... Can I come back later with my hus- Wooyoung's things? W-what time is the cutoff time for visitors?" You did not notice it but your voice trembled, breaking slightly even as you tried communicating with the nurses in a voice so small, that they had to not breathe to hear you clearly. It was obvious that you were trying to hold yourself together, but it was also probably because you were processing the information. The head nurse pushed past from the back of the station and addressed you directly with a gentle, motherly smile, it was a shame you didn't see it. "Cut-off time is in 2 hours which will be at 12 pm and it will reopen at 6-8 pm. But for family members, there isn't really a cut-off time, I'll make sure Mr Jung's visitor is out of his room soon," at least someone had the decency to do what's right.

You didn't even remember if you told the nurses thank you because when your senses returned, you found yourself already walking back towards the elevator. "(y/n)? Hey, are you okay?" Yunho called out, making his presence and proximity obvious to you. You wanted to tell him that you were fine, but how could you? Your assumption was just confirmed in such a public place in a situation the same hour you found out you were pregnant in the same place you found out that your husband was hurt and you weren't there for him. Although his side piece was there and considering that he was with her when he was supposed to be at a very important class due to the account and his own ownership of account management, he must've prioritized her presence more. Yunho didn't press you for a reply though, he just wanted to make sure you were okay, he wanted to make sure he could give you what you needed which was tricky since he had no idea what to do. He too, was still processing the information and trying to make sense of things. Was his assumption even correct? Was his friend really that much of a monster? So when you hopped in the elevator, Yunho didn't know if he was supposed to let you go by yourself or jump in and drive you home. Were you even going home? Why were you even there if you didn't even know that Wooyoung was admitted?

When you finally spared Yunho a glance, the door was starting to close and with a smile that haunted him for weeks, you spoke, "Don't tell Wooyoung about this, okay?" and the door closed, leaving Yunho worried and conflicted because all he wanted to do was go into Wooyoung's room and demand an explanation but with what you said, he couldn't. Could he?

When you heard the door closed, your body slumped to the wall and you felt your legs turn to jelly. Your intuition was right, he was being unfaithful and his timing, as always, was just perfect because the day you found out the truth just had to be the same day you found out that you were pregnant with the baby he fucked into you so coldly. A wave of nausea bubbled up in your stomach and your chest burned. The moment the door of the elevator opened, you ran out and your legs took you to the parking lot where you vomited out the bile that was probably the physical form of your feeling. Though the pressure was relieved, you could still feel the sting and burn in your throat, the bitterness in your tongue, and the dread washing over you.

Hunched over the bushes, you found it hard to straighten up and walk. At that moment, you want everything to stop because it was too much, it was too much for you to bear to bear alone.

Mere realization was not enough because you were in denial, you wanted to believe that it was just a dream, that you were hallucinating, that your husband was not the asshole but you were for wanting him to be a monster so much that your brain had somehow warped reality and created this scenario for you to hold onto.

Honestly, you didn't know what to process first.

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swamp-chicken · 3 months

Text

distant worlds, ethubs, 2042 words

“You know, I really should have established a timeline for how long I would be your employee,” Bdubs sighs, stocking boxes with enderpearls. “Because I’m sure not doing this forever.”

Etho is sitting at his desk, idly doodling in the corner of his accounting book. “Aw, you’re not?”

Bdubs stretches, cracking his neck. “No! I need to go and build stuff! Make things! I have my own life, you know.”

Bdubs’ pink shorts are riding up a little. Etho tries not to look. “Mmhmm.” he says instead, his go-to when he loses track of a conversation. The doodle on his accounting book is starting to look suspiciously like a series of little hearts. Etho hastily scribbles them out.

‘You know, you don’t have to sit here and supervise me. I’m not going to wreck your shop or anything.”

“Yeah, but…” But it’s been years since Etho has had Bdubs like this, working at his side.

Bdubs sighs dramatically. “You don’t trust me?!”

Etho spirals the pen around the page. “You’re a trainee, I gotta keep you on the straight and narrow.” In this case, lying is less pathetic than telling the truth.

Bdubs huffs, but doesn’t argue. They subside back into silence, Etho stifling a smile at the muffled expletive Bdubs lets out when a shulker box closes on his hand.

The pen travels across the page.

Years ago, a day like this wouldn’t have been so rare.

———

Bdubs was humming and hawing over Etho’s newly-constructed bridge.

“It’s bad,” Etho sighed. “You can say it’s bad.”

“No, no, no,” Bdubs chided. “No one’s saying that. It just needs a little… umm…“ he rummaged through his inventory, then brightened. “Leaves! Dude, just add some leaves.” He scattered some across the bridge railing with a flourish. “See? Fixes everything.”

Etho hummed, unconvinced. “And then maybe some… trap doors under those?”

Bdubs clapped his hands. “Oh yes, that’ll do it.”

Etho placed the trap doors and stepped back to take in the full picture alongside Bdubs. “I dunno…”

Bdubs’ hand dropped to his shoulder and squeezed. His touch was distractingly warm. “It looks great! Very rustic.”

Etho tilted his head. It did look a little better than before.

Satisfied that today’s job was mostly done, he went to go empty his inventory. Bdubs decided to stick around as he worked. He had been doing that a lot more lately.

Etho put away the final stack of cobblestone and cleared his throat. “There’s actually, uh, something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Bdubs was tooling around on Beyonc, showing off her elegant lines and five-block jump.

Etho watched them circle the area and tried to breathe through his sudden spike of anxiety.“Remember the game we worked on? In the modded server?”

Bdubs kicked Beyonc into a flying leap that landed her on top of Etho’s chest stack. “How could I forget? All those hours wasted!”

“Well, yeah.” Etho chewed his lip. “I was actually thinking of building something like that here. In vanilla.”

“You can do that? With redstone?”

Etho shrugged. “I can try.”

Bdubs snorted. “Friggin’ genius.”

“The thing is, though…”

Bdubs nudged Beyonc forward and she landed gracefully before Etho.

“The thing is though…” Etho continued. “I actually may need help—”

“I’ll do it,” Bdubs interrupted, before Etho had even finished his sentence.

“You sure?” Etho hesitated. “I don’t want you to put you on the spot or anything…”

“Of course!” Beyonc reared and Bdubs sat comfortably astride her. “We’ll do it together. As a team.”

It was Etho’s first time leading a big project, so he wanted it to do things right. He chose the location and dug out the area himself. He even decided to build a worker’s shack where he and Bdubs could sleep and store all of their materials.

In retrospect, Etho thought as he mapped out the floorplan, marking two separate bedrooms for him and Bdubs, he shouldn’t have been nervous about inviting Bdubs to join. Bdubs was a kind person and they had already tackled several projects together.

Etho paused. So kind that he probably felt like he couldn’t turn Etho down. So kind that he unflinchingly put up with all of Etho’s various idiosyncrasies and insistences. So kind that, any time they had a disagreement, he would capitulate with a laugh, easy and unbothered.

“You don’t have to help,” Etho blurted the first time Bdubs came to visit the worker’s shack.

Bdubs was standing in the doorway of the bedroom Etho had built for him, but still a glimmer of uncertainty crossed his face. “What, you don’t want me here?”

There was a lump in Etho’s throat. “No, I just…I don’t want to force you into anything.”

Bdubs placed his bed down in the room like a declaration. “There’s no forcing.” He met Etho’s gaze and smiled, so warmly that Etho felt it in his chest. “I’m gonna decorate this place so good.”

Etho had worked with Bdubs before, but he had never lived with him. It was different, not having to say their goodbyes at the end of the day. Instead, they walked back to the worker’s shack side by side, chattering about everything and nothing. It was different, waking up in the morning and finding Bdubs already in the kitchen, sleep-mussed and cooking, asking Etho how he liked his eggs.

It was different— Bdubs’ toothbrush in the bathroom, the wet puddle after he showered. The flowers that appeared in the windowsill and the laughter that echoed through the halls. Prepared meals, easy company, warm nights of doing nothing much but enjoying each other’s presence.

It was a different kind of torture, Etho learned, having Bdubs so near and liking him so much. He was too kind, making eggs just the way Etho liked, telling stories that made him laugh, helping unflinchingly with the enormous task of building this arena. He was so kind that Etho couldn’t help falling in love with him.

Nights were the worst, were the time when Etho felt furthest from any semblance of rationality or self-control. Lying in bed, staring through the darkness, he felt hyperaware that Bdubs lay just a short distance across the hall. So kind that he just might let Etho climb into bed with him.

Etho rolled over and willed himself to sleep.

Days passed, and then weeks. Spring was pushing into summer and the days were getting hotter. One particular day the heat was so oppressive that it even invaded the underground bunker where Etho had been doing most of the redstone wiring.

When the sweat started dripping into Etho’s eyes, he had no choice but to take a break. He stood, wiping sweat from his face with his shirt bottom, and took a deep draught from his water bucket.

Bdubs, he knew, was probably even worse off. He was building outside in the blazing sun. Etho decided to check on him. He felt bad that Bdubs was working so hard on a project that Etho himself wasn’t certain they could finish.

The end of the season had been announced a week ago and since then they had been scrambling to complete the arena before they had to leave this world and go to the next. There was a pit in Etho’s stomach every time he thought about it. This had happened to them last time, and now it was happening on the project that he was leading— the project that he had roped Bdubs into, that they had spent so much time on.

The worst part, though, was leaving their home. Etho didn’t know when he had started calling the worker’s shack home, but he had. It certainly felt more like home than any other place he had built on the server. He couldn’t deny that was in a large part due to Bdubs’ presence.

He didn’t know what the next world would hold. He didn’t know if he would find an excuse to live with Bdubs again. He didn’t even know if Bdubs would want to work with him again, especially after this project had turned out to be such a thankless grind.

Etho found Bdubs building on the outskirts of the arena. He was shirtless, sweat beading along his shoulderblades. The sight was so overwhelming that Etho almost turned to leave.

Bdubs was grunting with the effort of building a wall, dropping blocks into place. “You don’t have to push yourself so hard,” Etho ventured once he felt more in-control. “I’m not even paying you.”

Bdubs put his blocks down with a heavy sigh. “You think at this point my ego’s not all tied up in this too?”

Etho snorted and drew near. “Good point.” This close, he could see the smile lines crinkling at the corner of Bdubs’ eyes. “Want a break?” He held out his water bucket and a snack.

“Golden carrots!” Bdubs exclaimed. “You spoil me.”

He took the water bucket first, though, and drank from it deeply. Etho’s eyes were drawn to his throat as he swallowed, to the sweat droplets that chased each other down his torso.

“Ahh,” Bdubs sighed, refreshed, and Etho snapped his gaze upwards. “Do you mind?” Bdubs asked, gesturing to the water.

Etho shook his head, confused, but before he had much time to ponder, Bdubs was tipping the bucket over his own head, sending water crashing down around him.

Etho squawked and hopped backwards out of the splash zone.

“Oh,” Bdubs groaned, “Oh, that feels so good.” His hair was dripping, plastered to his head. Water was still sheeting down his body and soaking into his jeans. His eyes fluttered open and he caught Etho’s shocked gaze. He blinked. “You said you didn’t mind!”

There was a note of petulance in Bdubs’ voice that wouldn’t have been there a few months ago, before they had started living in each other’s pockets. Before Bdubs—before he was comfortable—

Something inside Etho snapped.

Bdubs lifted the bucket uncertainly, “I can get more water, I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

Etho carefully took the bucket out of Bdubs’ hands.

“…Etho?” Bdubs was stepping back awkwardly, falling back on those sloppy forms that had gotten him killed by Etho more than once.

Etho grabbed Bdubs’ hand and Bdubs froze, blinking up at him from under his soaked fringe, eyes soft and worried.

“You—“ Etho tried. “I—“ His ears burned with embarrassment.

He gave up on speaking and pulled the mask underneath his chin, pressed his lips to Bdubs’ hand.

“Oh,” Bdubs said. So kind that he didn’t pull away.

Etho turned Bdubs’ hand and pressed a lingering kiss to his palm.

“Oh,” Bdubs said again, voice hushed. “You don’t— do you?”

———

Etho wants to reach out, wants to take Bdubs hand, but he can’t. He’s too afraid Bdubs will run through his fingers like water, melt away like he has so many times before.

Bdubs is squirmy that way, surprisingly hard to pin down. One minute he’s swearing his eternal devotion, the next he’s mocking Etho, eyes gleaming with mirth. There’s months and years he’s not even there at all, times when he’s nothing but a sore spot in Etho’s memory.

That day in the unfinished arena, Bdubs had kissed him. His hair had dripped into Etho’s eyes. Etho hadn’t thought anything of kindness that night when they curled together, Etho’s chin propped on his chest. Bdubs was too busy looking at him like he was a puzzle he had found the last piece to.

Things change, Etho knows. That world ended, a new one began. Bdubs never kissed him again.

It can never be like what it once was, Etho fears. Here is too distant from there.

“Done!” Bdubs announces. “Your enderpearls are all sorted. Now can I leave?”

Etho sighs, but he doesn’t have any good reason to keep Bdubs longer. “Yeah, that should be it for today.”

Bdubs is already packing his inventory. He pauses on his way out the door. “You know, you didn’t even comment on my uniform.”

Etho is caught off guard. “I—I didn’t?”

Bdubs gives a spin. His legs are on full display. “I made it just for you!”

Etho swallows. When he meets Bdubs’ gaze, he winks. “I’ll see you tomorrow, boss.”

#happy valentines day uwuuuuuuu #idk what this is #not quite angst #not quite fluff #but very much #ethubs #and #my fic

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wackyharpy · 2 months

Text

Merchant's Daughter (Part 2)

God! Aemond x Human●Fem! Reader

Summary: In order to ease the wrath of one of the Gods, the girl among humans is chosen to be gifted to him.

Part 1

To find more stories — masterlist

A/N: I know you've been waiting for it. So here is chapter 2, finally. Want to express my gratitude for your likes, comments, and reblogs. I appreciate it! Love you, guys! Enjoy the story :)

P.S. English isn't my native.

Warnings ⚠️

NSFW, sexual content, typical treatment of women those times, she/her pronouns.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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The man of her father's age opened the gates and kindly smiled at her.

"Welcome to Ēbrion, my lady. The residence of the God of Murk and Affliction — my lord."

She examined the pale complexion of the man, who wore perfectly ironed and starched white shirt with a black suit. His skin was pallid as if the blood no longer rushed in the veins. The man was acting as an alive human, though, there were doubts whether he was one.

"Who are you?" She cautiously inquired, still considering if she could trust him.

"I am a butler, my lady," the man was still smiling warmly.

"What is E... Ebrion?"

"Ēbrion," he pronounced it correctly and went on explaining, "this is the name of the castle, my lady. It means "dusk" in the Valyrian language."

Valyrian — the language of Gods.

The butler took her case and pointed at the lane with his thin arm. She made several uncertain steps walking into the territory of the castle. The gates behind her started closing by themselves what surprised her a little.

"Why is the castle named like that?" She curiously looked at the man and then turned her glance to the great piece of architecture in front of her.

"Due to my lord was born at dusk," she heard the butler's soft voice behind her back. "Please, my lady, may us come inside. Dinner is already awaiting for you, along with a hot bath. You must be exhausted after the journey."

She felt someone's presence the whole dinner as if an invisible person were in the room together with her, hiding stealthily. Somber aura hung over making the air in the castle humid. Although, it could have been her nervousness, and heightened temperature of the body due to her anxiety.

Massive walls were decorated with modeling, ornamented in pretentious paintings of mythical creatures and flowers; pictures in wooden frames adorned the rooms. Events of Gods' and humans' history were depicted on them. At times, it seemed the characters on canvases revived — expressions were altering on their faces, their eyes were watching her with the penetrating gaze. Here and there muted fragments of their conversations were echoing across the halls.

The servants of the castle were moving around ghostly — once they were working in one place, then, after a blink, there was no one in the room, the servants quickly were shifting to other places.

When the girl needed explanation or help, miraculously the butler appeared near her. A moment she turned her head, he vanished as though he weren't there initially.

Who were all these people serving the God of Murk and Affliction? Ghosts? Corpses who came to life? She doubted that someone ever would provide her answers.

She had been staying in this bleak place for a week and hadn't ever met its owner. Each day was gloomy and dull, the atmosphere outside was constant. Once in a while, it was drizzling — at those moments chilly spirit was sweeping through the halls, and the girl was hiding in the chamber, allocated for her, under the thick blankets.

The longer she had been staying here, the more dreadful anticipation of the meeting with the God became. She couldn't comprehend why he still hadn't appeared in his residence. But, she had a horrible feeling the moment she would meet him, it would be the most terrible encounter in her life. It seemed as if it were easier to face the Death than the God of Murk and Affliction himself.

One evening was especially murky. Since morning it had been pouring, so the whole day felt macabre. The poor girl had low spirits — there was no joy in here, nothing to do, nowhere to go, nobody to speak to.

The servants had prepared a hot bath for her. While she was lying relaxed in the tub, pleasant water was soothing her strained muscles, several women were readying her bed, changing usual white linen into black one with red intricate patterns on it.

After, they dried her with soft towels, brought her a beautiful transparent nightgown to wear, something unpleasant tugged and then dropped in her abdomen. Her mind gave the cue that tonight was going to be the encounter. Their lord was coming back home, and his servants were preparing Ēbrion to greet him with lush tables full of mouthwatering dishes, polished floors and decorations, and the main gift who was standing in this chamber.

Her.

Now she realized why her bedroom was in the remote part of the castle — nobody would hear her voice, her screams, her calls for help. As though there were somebody who would safe her.

"My lady," the servant gently took her hand and led her to the bed, helping her to get onto it.

"Please, lie on your back, my lady."

She did as she was asked. Her breath caught in her lungs — the feeling of terror was capturing her body slowly.

"What are you doing?" The girl jumped terrified when the servants grabbed both her arms.

"Please, my lady, you have to lie on your back," the woman's gentle voice asked her again.

Be obedient.

The girl gulped and lowered herself on the duvet. She was trembling, as a small leaf ready to fall on the ground in late autumn, while her wrists got tied to the headboard. A silk bandage covered her eyes — according to the servants' words, it was an order.

And there she was lying, alone, on the fresh and still cold bed, her arms attached to the headboard with ropes. She relied only on her ears hearing attentively what was happening around. The baldachin made of heavy fabric was completely closed. She was in the utter darkness.

Anticipation was eating her from the inside. It felt as if her heart could jumped out of her chest because of how afraid she was.

The echoes of someone's steps were audible in the corridor, reaching closer and closer to her chamber. She strained her body and tightly clenched her legs — was stiff as the violin's string.

All at once, the doors opened and she heard heavy male breathing, and loud stomps of leather boots. She tried to produce no sounds as though he didn't know she was here.

The God knew everything since the moment the convoy entered his lands. His henchmen saw her every step in the mist — vultures, ravens, trees, serpents, the fog itself. Everything and everyone felt foreign presence of a stranger, a human they'd never seen. And he already knew her name — the wind had whispered him.

The girl heard clatters of the crystal jug and goblet, and then quiet pouring of the liquid.

"Do you know who I am?" She heard a deep voice rumbling right from the chest. It felt dangerous and spellbinding at the same time as if looking at the volcanic eruption and hearing grumbles that come from the inside of the mountain.

"God of Murk and Affliction," her own voice sounded pathetic that was natural for such a miserable human she was.

"Remember it. I am a God, you are a human. A little pitiful human."

The baldachin opened suddenly revealing her small body to him worn in transparent fabric. He, without any shame, was staring at her young untouched body smelling her scent — dulcet and virginal.

The girl began moving, yanking the ropes, pulling her legs. Her heart was beating as a bird in the cage, fluttering small wings with the hope to escape. Unfortunately, there was no way back, no way home.

The God's large palm wrapped her thin neck pinning to the bed, his long nose grazed the side of her left cheek reaching her ear.

"Be a good girl for me. If you appreciate your life, be obedient," he whispered and left a light kiss on the earlobe.

She was incapable to breath, her body felt numb due to fear — the girl was lying still on the bed praying to remain alive after this encounter.

But who was she praying to? The Gods who themselves suggested to send her here?

She became alone, abandoned by humans and Gods who knew, who saw, who heard everything from above. They didn't care. One mortal girl was not a big deal.

The night had been dragging a long while, darker than it had ever been in any place of the world. It felt like infinity until the dawn. The infinity with his hard cock between her quivering legs, his heavy breathing and rumbling growls and moans.

She felt sticky hotness between her thighs — blood mixed with her juices and his semen. His strong hands left bruises on her innocent body, he bit her with his sharp fangs, penetrated her with rough thrusts. It was pleasure and pain she was experiencing. Her fleshy insides were fluttering because of exhaustion, but for the God it wasn't enough. He interchangeably used his shaft and long digits exploring the girl's interior.

Her crying didn't halt him, her moans encouraged him to keep on moving.

He examined every inch of her body craving to know all her cavities, convexities, and curves. He played with her breasts, nibbled her nipples, smelled her hair, and teased her clit.

She was different, unlike the Goddesses he had laid with. He sensed purity in her which he was devastating with his sinful actions, wicked tongue and perverse, constantly seeking for fulfillment dick. He adored her hot blood that could be heard rushing in her veins, he relished her taste feasting between her legs for hours till she couldn't take it anymore.

Everything was his from then. She belonged to him and only him.

He took her almost every night, and when the daylight touched the floors of her chamber, the servants always fetched her hot bath and breakfast. The God bestowed her with rich dresses made of heavenly fabrics and precious jewels that no mortal queens or kings ever possessed.

She was his own little human.

She was a good girl for him, and according to his promise he once made, she enjoyed only pleasure in bed. The God allowed her to explore the castle and the territory outside as a gift for her obedience.

Daily she had been spending time in the library, in the garden, or riding a horse in the surroundings of the castle. Her white stallion — a present from the God — was her loyal friend ready to take her anywhere she desired.

The girl was scared no more. The God's henchmen were watching her, the woods were protecting her from the possible danger that may have come from outside of his possessions.

She felt save and secure. Once she came here as a slave, a toy for the God, now she became his girl who he cared for and cherished.

***

The girl was bouncing on the God's hard cock standing on the hands and knees. Light breeze was tickling her nude body, sweet scent of grass and flowers enveloped the space around them.

Since her appearance here, the God's lands has changed reasonably. Thick fog has gone from Ēbrion to the borders of his possessions hiding them from the world outside. The sky wasn't overcast anymore allowing the rays of the sun to elucidate the territories around.

"My Lord..." she moaned loudly.

He gripped her hair tightly accelerating his thrusts.

"My Lord... Aemond! I need a break. I can't take it anymore," her ragged breathing showed her tiredness.

The God groaned, and grudgingly came out of her hot insides. She stretched her body on the blanket, closed her eyes enjoying the warmth of the day. The woods around them were shuffling. How much time had passed since she arrived in here? She didn't remember.

The days and nights blurred, time had no sense for her anymore. Once she was cut from the world she was born in, left forsaken in the unknown place, but now it seemed to be just a memory of long ago times.

In front of her was sitting her beloved man, the God who was spreading his wrath in the world, but sought love and appreciation in her hands.

Her dear Aemond.

"Are you tired, my love?" He took her arm and kissed it.

"A bit, my lord," she smiled, exploring his sturdy body with her curious eyes, and stopping her gaze at his thick cock patiently waiting to be buried deep within her walls again.

"Hmmm..." He thoughtfully rubbed her abdomen. Something began sparking in his good eye.

"What are you thinking about?" She half rose up on her elbows.

"Want to breed you, my love. To conceive a child with you," lust was heard on his tongue. He leaned his face closer to her, his silver hair glistening in the beams of the daylight.

"Do you want a half-God child from a mortal woman? I'm not even a queen, just a merchant's daughter."

An astute smile appeared on his face. He delineated her cheek with his long finger, then gently kissed her full lips.

"I don't want a half-God child. I want you to give birth to a God." He whispered into her mouth, and then pinned her to the blanket with the weight of his body.

She gulped and asked surprisingly:

"How?"

"I will make you my wife. My Goddess."

With these words he pushed his hard cock into her entrance, catching her moan with his lips.

#aemond #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #prince aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aegon ii targaryen

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