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joelslastofus · 1 day

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[SUMMARY: Joel and you have a close friendship until Sarah’s mother returns and he rudely pushes you away. He never knew you were in love with him or that he himself was in love with you until Tommy wants to date you.]

Angst jealous Joel, mention of blood

“Joel can you pass the butter” Sarah’s mother could be heard in the background as Tommy and you were still sharing a small moment. Joel hadn’t taken his eyes off you not realizing that he was being called.

For a few years now you had grown to be a close friend to Joel and especially close to Sarah. Joel didn’t date much as he was strict on not bringing just any woman around his daughter. The two of you got close with you being his neighbor and you helping Sarah with things her father needed a woman’s help in. Sarah always teased her father about dating you, yet you having a bigger age difference than he was used to made him hesitate. Through it all Joel never suspected the feelings you had for him. Things always seemed good between all of you, that was until Sarah’s mother suddenly made a return.

There was an obvious difference since her mother had returned, you realized you hadn’t been seeing Joel or Sarah as much as you used to. The thought hurt you as he never knew the strong feelings you had for him yet you never found the courage to knock on his door like you used to.

That afternoon you caught Sarah coming out of the house and quickly called out for her to wait for you. Rushing back inside you bought out pastries you baked, pastries you knew Joel loved.

“Hey, I made these for you guys”

“Oh I haven’t had these in forever, you’re the best” she reached in for a hug.

“You should come over tonight, we’re having our usual movie night..”

“Oh, haven’t had one of those in a while. I’ll bring the popcorn” you smiled as she grinned when you were both interrupted by her mother.

“Sarah, let’s go!” The sound of her mother’s voice made you look up to find her in the passenger seat of Joel’s truck, you never realized she was there. She was a fairly attractive woman, you could see what Joel saw on her as hard as it was to admit.

She didn’t acknowledge you and so you didn’t say a thing to her but you noticed Sarah’s expression change.

“That’s my mom…I’ll see you around…” she walked away just as you heard the door behind you open, Joel stepped out.

“Joel” you stood as he greeted you with a smile.

“It’s been a while” his eyes wandered over your features.

“Yeah, it has been huh” you nodded as he smiled at you. Joel missed having you around, he missed your company but he knew how Sarah’s mother would feel and so he tried to keep his distance. The only reason he seemed to be working on things with Sarah’s mother was because he thought it was what his daughter deserved…her parents together, not knowing her true feelings towards her mother.

“Well any ways, I left Sarah with those pastries you guys always love. Hope it’s enough for all three of you. Sarah just invited me tonight, so I guess we’ll catch up later?” Joel’s expression changed to something you couldn’t quite understand but he nodded before her mother called out once again.

“Joel hurry up!” She yelled from the car honking the horn.

“Yeah, I’ll see you tonight. Thank you, darlin’” Joel got in his truck immediately sensing an attitude from Sarah’s mother.

“What was that girl on about?”

“She baked us some dessert and-“

“I invited her to movie night tonight!” Sarah exclaimed.

“Excuse me?” Her mother turned to her.

“Y/n usually joins us for family night” Joel attempted to explain.

“She’s not family” Joel looked back at her not liking her tone.

“She’s been like family to us” he tried to explain but she wasn’t having it.

“Well she’s not, so tonight it’s just gonna be us three. Got it?” She turned looking out the window as Joel looked at the rear view mirror and could see Sarah’s disappointment.

After dropping Sarah off at her friends, Joel felt it was the perfect time to have a bigger conversation about Sarah’s relationship with you.

“Listen, about y/n…you gotta understand she’s been there for Sarah for a long time now,-“

“So, it’s not like she’s her mother”

“Dammit, I know that but to Sarah she’s been everything” Sarah’s mother crossed her arms looking ahead.

“Well Sarah better get rid of any attachment to that girl, she’s nothing to anyone.”

“That woman has done more for her than I could say” Joel pushed the argument.

“Joel, I said it’s done. I’m her mother, not her nor anyone else and Sarah just needs to understand her place. She’s the child and has no say-“

“I haven’t raised her that way-“

“Well things change. Besides, that girl shouldn’t be so close to Sarah. It’s not good for our daughter, she’s getting attached to someone that won’t always be around. I think you should cut it” Joel narrowed his eyes on her.

“You do it or I will. You want Sarah to get her heart broken when that woman has her own children and forgets about her?” Joel looked away continuing to drive knowing she had a point not knowing more than anything she wanted access to all Joel had. Since she had last seen him, he was successful with his own home and money that she wanted a part of.

“Unless you don’t care about your daughter’s feelings, keep her around but if you do care for Sarah then do what’s right” she manipulated him using the biggest thing she had against him.

Sarah.

“I’ll talk to her tonight”

That evening after work you took a fresh shower getting ready for movie night. Apart of you was anxious knowing you’d officially meet the woman who was now having something with the man you had been secretly in love with for so long. Brushing your hair humming to yourself you unexpectedly heard your doorbell. You could see Joel through the side window making you raise a brow.

“Hey? Everything ok?” You asked as you opened the door. Usually greeting you with a smile, Joel was now serious.

“Joel?”

“Listen um, there ain’t no movie night tonight”

“Ok” you chuckled a bit confused as to why he showed up at your door to simply express that plans were cancelled. It was strange, he could barely look you in the eye.

“Look, this ain’t easy for me to say…but Sarah’s mother is back, Ima need you to give Sarah some space.” As much as what he said hurt, you kept a straight face.

“Of course,” you whispered.

“I wouldn’t get in the way of that. Sarah is welcome to come by whenever, on her time” Joel brushed his hand over his lips, a little frustrated that you weren’t getting the message and he would need to be more blunt.

“Sarah won’t be comin’ by no more” for a moment you stood silent.

“Oh I-“

“Sarah don’t need to be talkin’ to you no more. Her mother is here and it just ain’t needed” he blurt out. Joel didn’t like saying this to you, yet he knew the only way to keep you away was to be as blunt as possible.

Where the hell was this coming from?

“Joel I…I know her mom is back in the picture, I never was trying to take her place. I only help-“

“Well don’t” he spoke coldly leaving you speechless. After a few years of being so close you saw a side to him you never thought you would see. Feeling tears well up in your eyes, a knot in your throat you cleared your voice.

“Does Sarah know?”

“It don’t matter, she’ll understand” Joel almost sounded as if he was trying to convince himself that his daughter would get over this.

“Am I clear?” For the first time his eyes looked into yours and he noticed you struggling not to cry. The guilt he felt in his chest from the way you looked at him, he couldn’t take but he had to be stern. He preferred him saying what needed to be said than Sarah’s mother disrespecting you.

“Loud and clear” you whispered before closing the door in face and walking away.

Joel stood still for a minute wondering for a just a second if what he was doing was right. The thought of you forgetting about Sarah in the future like her mother said came to his mind again, it was true what she expressed..at the end of the day you were nothing to Sarah and eventually you would have your own life..

Joel walking back to the house ran into Tommy walking through the door.

“Hey ain’t y/n coming tonight?”

Joel shook his head.

“Why not? Sarah loves doing trivia with her after the movie?” Tommy secretly asking because he wanted you around too.

“I put an end to it Tommy” Joel spoke without looking his way.

“Put an end to what? Her being there for Sarah? What are ya doin’ man?” He shoved his shoulder, Joel knew he was never a fan of Sarah’s mother.

“It’s for Sarah’s own good, I know what I’m doin’” Joel walked ahead not wanting to speak anymore of it.

About two months later Sarah’s mother was making breakfast when she found two pink flower cooking mittens and frowned.

“Sarah, you help your father cook huh?” She laughed until Sarah shook her head.

“Those were y/n’s she comes over sometimes and would cook for us, I wonder why she hasn’t come by” Her words instantly wiping the smile from her face. The second Sarah turned she grabbed the mitts and threw them in the trash. Joel running down the steps noticing he was running late for work practically heading straight for the door.

“Joel I made breakfast!” She yelled out as he grabbed his bag.

“Don’t have time, ya got Sarah today? I’m running late, gotta go with Tommy” her mother rolled her eyes throwing the spatula in the sink.

“I guess so” Joel too much in a rush didn’t notice the tone in her voice, giving Sarah a kiss on the head he rushed out.

Joel running out happened to see Tommy talking to you at the end of the drive way. He thought it was strange as he furrowed his brows but didn’t say a word.

Starting the truck Joel watched the two of you talking through his rear view mirror. Looking at his brothers face he knew that damn look, his brother was flirting with you. Joel suddenly honked his horn twice making you and Tommy look up.

“I’ll call you later” he winked at you before kissing your cheek and getting to the truck.

Joel looked behind as he backed his truck out of the driveway, his eyes taking a peak at you leaving for the day before he turned to his brother.

“What was that about?”

“Oh uh, nothin’ I uh, I…I kinda asked her out” he cleared his throat anxiously.

“You asked her out?” Joel looked at his brother taken back by his statement.

“Yeah, I mean…you don’t mind do ya? Nothin’ ever happened between you two so just figured I’d shoot my shot” he grinned as Joel began to drive.

“That alright?” He asked looking over at his brother waiting for some kind of approval.

Joel clenched his jaw staring ahead.

“Why would I care” Joel stated with a shrug. Tommy looked away sensing something clearly bothered him but didn’t say a word.

Joel spent his day at work not saying much to his brother, Tommy could sense the coldness from him as the day went on.

“Joel where’s the-“

“God dammit Tommy, you got the wrong damn piece” Tommy looked down confused.

“Just move, I got it” he shoved his brother to the side and began to work as Tommy stepped back.

“Joel-“

“I got it” he uttered low before his brother walked off angrily. Joel himself was trying to understand what exactly he was feeling. The anger that slowly built up inside him the more he thought about you dating Tommy, yet he himself couldn’t even understand why.

During the ride home the two men were silent. Tension brewing between them as Tommy adjusted himself in his seat.

“I invited y/n over this weekend for dinner” Joel’s hand tightening on the steering wheel, he didn’t say a word for a moment.

“Sarah’s mother ain’t gonna like it-“

“Well Sarah’s mother don’t live there, I do” Tommy defended himself. Joel remained quiet before arriving to the house and walking inside.

That evening Tommy had convinced you to come over for dinner. You hesitated after what was last said between you and Joel but Tommy insisted.

“It’s my home just as much as it’s his” Tommy defended himself, yet it still didn’t feel right. Feelings for Joel didn’t simply vanish but they did become easier to deal with, easier to ignore making you believe there were none at all…although that was far from the truth.

“Y/n is coming over this weekend” Tommy patted Sarah’s shoulder as she grinned with excitement.

“I beg your pardon” Sarah’s mother turned with a clear look of disapproval.

“She’s coming over for dinner” Tommy stood up straight facing her directly.

“I don’t think so, Joel already knows-“

“She’s gonna come over, that’s the end of it” Joel suddenly interrupted as he began to set the table.

“Yes!” Sarah exclaimed.

“Didn’t I say-“

“Sarah go to your room, honey” without questioning a thing she quickly stood up and took her book with her to the room.

“Joel, you can’t be serious”

“She’s comin’ to be with me” Tommy interjected, his words like alcohol on a wound for Joel yet it seemed to calm Sarah’s mother down.

“Oh, well in that case, have fun” she shrugged thinking if Tommy kept you busy she wouldn’t have to worry about you. A part of her had been suspecting if Joel had feelings for you since you two had last spoken. Without Joel knowing sometimes she would watch him through the window and catch him looking over at you house almost as if he was waiting for you to come out.

The evening arrived and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach for more reasons than one. That day you decided to put a touch of make up and wear your hair loose, something different for a change.

Tommy opened the door with a big grin as he let you inside. He could see the nerves in your eyes and subtly leaned in against you.

“Relax, you’re good here” he led you into the dining room where Joel and Sarah’s mother were. Joel with his back to you could hear when you walked in.

“Nice to finally meet you” Sarah’s mother greeted you with a hug, you could tell wasn’t genuine.

“Nice to meet you too” you smiled as Joel turned to you. He had never really seen you with your hair loose, the color of your hair framing your face bringing out your eyes.

“Hi Joel” Sarah’s mother noticing your hesitation just as Joel leaned in to greet you. His hand delicately on your waist as you felt his lips on your cheek.

“Good to see ya” he stood back with a nod as you awkwardly looked down.

“Well, let’s set the table for the ladies. You can go sit in the living room and get to know Sarah’s mom, Sarah will be out in a bit” Tommy placed his hand around your waist making Joel’s eyes follow.

“Joel?” Tommy cleared his throat making him quickly look up.

“Yeah, we’ll set up the table. You ladies go on” Joel quickly turned his back as Sarah’s mother guided you to the living room away from the men.

Tommy could already see his brother was uncomfortable, but not for the reasons he thought.

“Look, I’m sorry if her being around is makin’ you feel a kind of way. I know y’all didn’t have the best last conversation with how you spoke to her-“

“She told you, huh” Joel responded with a sarcastic tone as he laid the table mats and plates down.

“Yeah, she did” Tommy now sounding a bit more defensive.

“You gonna help me or what?” Joel uttered low before Tommy sighed and began to help. There was never going anywhere with Joel when it came to expressing feelings properly, the man was as stubborn as a steel wall.

After talking with Sarah and her mother for a bit, you grew to understand more as to why her and her mother didn’t exactly click. Yet, it still wasn’t as awkward as you thought it would be with her yet with Joel it was a different story.

Once dinner was ready you stood beside Tommy as he pulled out your chair for you.

“Thank you, Tommy” you smiled as you sat down, feeling Joel’s eyes on you from the head of the table. Joel wasn’t the only one staring, Sarah herself was confused to see you with her uncle, she always expected you to be with her father. Joel noticed Sarah staring at you and cleared his throat to get her attention.

“Sarah, mind your manners” she quickly looked away before leaning close to him.

“You’re staring too, dad” she whispered playfully. Sarah’s mother sat down not noticing the stare down the two were giving you as they quickly looked away.

“So how long have you two been dating?” Sarah’s mother unexpectedly broke the silence.

“About a couple weeks now” Tommy responded.

“Couple weeks huh?” Joel looked up at his brother with a raised brow.

“Yes” he responded confidently.

“I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner since she’s been around here for a while from what I heard” Sarahs mother stated with a light laugh.

“Why didn’t it?” The slick tone in Joels voice, he couldn’t hide how he felt about it as much as he tried to.

“Why didn’t what?” Tommy asked sitting up straight in his chair noticing his brother’s tone of voice.

“Why didn’t you get together sooner?” Joel asked as he put a piece of food in his mouth, his eyes narrowing on Tommy.

“I guess the time just wasn’t right then, brother” the two men silently stared at each other for a moment before you cleared your throat.

“Well, I’m glad it happened when it did” you spoke softly but you could feel Joel’s harsh stare now turn to you. Sarah’s mother silently watched the way Joel stared at you and Tommy, raising a brow at him she wondered why he seemed so bothered by you two.

“Me too, babe” Tommy leaned in for a quick peck causing Joel to tense up.

“Joel” yet he continued watching the way you smiled at Tommy, the look in your eyes as he spoke to you.

“Dad” the sound of Sarah’s voice snapping him right out of it. He looked over at her before noticing Sarah’s mother staring at him.

“Huh, what is it?”

“I was asking you to pass the butter” she raised a brow at him. Silently he passed the dish to her before adjusting himself in his seat and continuing to eat.

“Well anyways, I think it’s sweet that you two are together” Sarah’s mother continued.

“I didn’t see it coming, we’ve known each other for so long” you responded.

“I sure as hell didn’t see it comin’” Joel mumbled under his breath as he stabbed a piece of meatloaf hard with his fork.

“What was that Joel?” Tommy squinted his eyes at him.

“I said I didn’t see that comin’, come to think of it” Joel chuckled sarcastically.

“Almost seems like it was a secret”

Tommy knew you were beginning to feel uncomfortable as you wouldn’t look up from your plate.

“Wasn’t no secret, didn’t know I had to report who I was datin’” you suddenly gasped as Sarah’s mother accidentally knocked a glass of water your way. You quickly stood up as water spilled onto your skirt.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Her mother stood up with you but Sarah could sense something was off. She felt her mother had done it on purpose and she wasn’t wrong. Her mother growing angry at the sight of Joel being bothered by anything having to do with you and Tommy upset her and she tried to distract the situation.

“It’s alright, babe, I got cha” Tommy proceeded to grab a cloth and attempt to dry off your clothes. His hands passing along over your thighs as Joel watched silently before he abruptly stood up and walked to the kitchen.

“Where are you going, Joel?” Sarah’s mother called out to him.

“I’m grabbin’ another beer” he yelled back.

“I think I should go” you whispered to Tommy.

“Please” you continued, he could see the discomfort in your eyes and quietly nodded.

“I’m gonna take y/n home-“

“Dinner was delicious” you tried to seem as polite as you could. Tommy grabbed your stuff for you and took your hand before Joel called out to him.

“Don’t take too long now, ima need a hand with a few things” Tommy looked back at him annoyed before walking out with you. Joel didn’t need help with anything, just the thought of him going to your house alone with you he couldn’t take. Sarah watched as her mother angrily got up from the table and stomped to the kitchen.

“What the hell has been your problem today?”

“Nothins’ my problem at all” he spoke with a touch of sarcasm.

“You just can’t stand seeing your brother with that girl” Joel tried to hide a reaction as he took a sip of his beer.

“Why the hell would I care what that girl does?”

“I don’t know Joel, you tell me” she angrily walked away to the room before slamming the door shut.

Standing at your front door you sighed turning to Tommy.

“Maybe it’s just best I’m not around them much.” Tommy quickly shook his head.

“No, ya didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t care how that woman feels about there-“

“Or Joel” you interrupted.

“He hated having me there today” you continued. Little did you know, Joel didn’t hate having you there, he hated seeing you with his brother.

“Don’t worry about Joel, I’ll have a talk with him when I get back”

“It doesn’t matter”

“It does. That’s not the last time you’re coming around so don’t think it is. I’ll see you tomorrow” Tommy kissed you before returning back home.

Once coming back in he found Joel cleaning up by himself and scoffed.

“So what’s your issue brother, might as well lay it out for me”

Joel didn’t turn back to him, how could he admit to his brother the seething jealousy he felt. How could he tell his brother the thought of him touching you, kissing you only enraged him.

“Ain’t no issue, Tommy” he denied as he put left overs in the fridge.

“Well I feel like there’s an issue and so does y/n” the sound of your name making him face Tommy.

“I’m tellin’ you there ain’t”

Tommy didn’t say a word but he didn’t believe his brother and angrily went to his room.

The next day once again Joel found Tommy talking you on your front porch as he got ready to take Sarah to school. Squinting from the sun he kept looking over watching the way Tommy wrapped his arms around you, kissing you until Sarah came out.

“You ok, dad?”

“Course I am” he responded before walking to the front of the car. Sarah looked over and noticed what he was staring and it all made sense.

During the drive to school Sarah couldn’t help but question her dad about you, catching him off guard.

“Hey dad, why did y/n stop coming over?”

Joel swallowed hard as he adjusted himself in his seat, he knew he had to be honest.

“Your mother ain’t really like how close you two were”

“Does mom know you have feelings for her?” Joel abruptly looked at Sarah at a red light.

“I don’t have feelings for her, who said that?”

“Your eyes” Sarah smiled as her father remained silent knowing he couldn’t lie to his daughter.

“Ya know, you’re too damn smart sometimes, it scares me” he chuckled under his breath as he continued to drive.

“So you do have feelings for her. Why didn’t you tell her?”

“Enough about her, she’s with uncle Tommy and that’s that”

“But I think she had feelings for you to-“

“Sarah enough” his stern voice causing her to look away just as he pulled up to her school.

“Baby girl I know you’re just lookin’ out for me but your mother-“

“I don’t like my mother” Sarah blurt out shocking Joel.

“I’ll see you later” getting out of the car Joel watched as she walked off. Sarah’s mother being manipulative and controlling was something that always made Joel and her clash and now it was something Sarah was seeing and he didn’t like it.

Joel and Tommy took their own rides to work not wanting to speak to each other, he had no idea Tommy had planned for you to come over again. Tommy refused to let them get their way and insisted on having you over again.

That night Tommy bought dinner for everyone and kept himself in a good mood. Yoh hadn’t spoken much to Joel, if anything you avoided him as much as possible. You sat next to Tommy enjoying the food as Sarah spoke to you about a new project she was working on.

“You didn’t tell me about that, honey” her mother interrupted.

“Y/n usually helps me with my projects so I wanted to tell her” Sarah responded dryly. Her mother looking a bit insulted remained silent, your presence clearly starting to eat at her.

“Well unfortunately I can’t stay the night” she stood up from the table throwing a cloth to the side.

“I have some work obligations to finish”

“That’s a shame, hopefully next time you can stay longer” you spoke nicely as she responded with a masked smile and nod.

“Joel? Can you walk me to the door”

“Right” he cleared his throat as he stood up.

Sarah’s mother didn’t say much but she didn’t like the idea of leaving.

Joel walked back to the dining room watching as you laughed at something Tommy had said. Your hand on his arm as you shook your head before Joel realized Sarah was staring at him. Sarah could see right through her father, she knew his feelings for you were deep.

“How about we have some wine” Tommy suddenly suggested as Joel sat at the table.

“Um, I’ll get it” you quickly stood up not wanting to be left alone with Joel.

“Oh you’re not afraid to go to the basement” Tommy teased making you playfully roll your eyes. You knew where the wine was, it wasn’t the first time you had wine with the Millers.

Joel watched as you made your way downstairs as Tommy and Sarah began clearing the table.

You stood in the basement quietly reading each bottle to yourself trying to decide which one you wanted when the lights suddenly went out.

“Tommy?!” You called out from the bottom of the stairs.

“Um the lights went out!” You yelled just as Tommy had his hands full with plates and cups.

“Shit” he whispered quickly looking over at Joel who stood up.

“I got it”

“Don’t be a dick” Tommy whispered as Joel made his way to the basement door.

Patiently waiting for Tommy to come downstairs, you heard what you thought was his footsteps and sighed in relief.

“Thank God, it’s creepy enough down here with lights let alone without any” you laughed waiting for him to reset the breakers. Once he did the lights went back on and that’s when you noticed who it was.

Joel stood a few feet away from you, his eyes on you before you quickly looked away.

“I thought you were Tommy”

“Sorry to disappoint you” he spoke low. Biting his lip he didn’t move from where he stood, having so much to say but not knowing where to start. This was the first time you were alone with him since that dreadful conversation you had with him at your front door and you didn’t know what to say. Still very hurt by things that were said you avoided conversation with him and quickly picked out a bottle and walked past him.

“I’m sorry” he uttered just as you reached the first step. You froze in silence but you didn’t turn back.

“I didn’t mean to hurt ya, I hope you can understand” you scoffed shaking your head. How were you suppose to be understanding to his sudden coldness?

“Doesn’t really matter now, does it” you responded before making your way up the stairs. Joel looked down just as you turned the door knob when you realized it was locked.

“Shit” you whispered to yourself, of course you had forgotten to hit the switch on the knob when you first came down to make sure it would stay unlocked. Joel looked up noticing you were having trouble opening the door and made his way up the stairs.

“What’s the matter?”

“I left the damn switch locked” you pulled at the handle as Joel chuckled crossing his arms.

“That ain’t gonna open it, darlin’”

“Tommy!” You slammed your hands on the door just wanting to get the hell out of there.

“Damn it” you whispered brushing your hand through your hair before taking a step back.

Joel noticed how anxious you became, just as he was about to speak when Tommy was heard on the other end.

“What’s the matter baby?”

“I left the switch locked by accident” you explained, you heard him fumbling with the door knob before he began to pull at it.

“Shit, the lock is jammed” Tommy could be heard saying making you sigh as Joel looked up.

“Hold on, let me get the tools from the truck to try and pry this door open” Tommy called out to you both. Rolling your eyes you made your way down the stairs as Joel followed. Your heart racing hearing him so close behind, the last thing you wanted was to stay alone with him.

“You alright?” Joel asked watching you pace back and forth.

“Yes” you lied.

“You forget I’ve know you for sometime-“

“Joel, stop. Just cause we’re locked in here doesn’t mean we have to talk-“ you suddenly gasped feeling a sharp jab to your hip. Joel instantly becoming concerned at the sight of blood on your hand. A nail sticking out of the wall had pinched you deep enough where your blood dripped onto the floor.

“Great” Joel quickly made his way to you and took a look. Not expecting him to have been so close you froze as he furrowed his brows getting a closer look at your wound.

“It’s fine, just a scratch”

“That ain’t just a scratch” Joel grabbed the first aid kit behind him and opened it on the table beside him.

“Oh no, I’m fine Joel I don’t need-“

“Pull up your shirt”

“Joel-“

“Pull it up” his eyes narrowed down on yours making you give in. Lifting it up you could see the damage much better and shook your head.

“This would happen to me” you watched as he grabbed a bottle of alcohol and immediately began to panic, you always hated applying alcohol on a wound.

“Isn’t there something else in there you can use?”

“No” he drenched a cotton ball with the liquid.

“I um-I don’t wanna use that”

“Well you’re gonna have to, unless ya want an infection” he responded casually.

“I really don’t like using alcohol on a wound, I don’t care if it makes me sound like a baby I can’t stand the feeling, I don’t wanna use it” he realized you were truly panicking about it as he looked up at you.

“Darlin’, that was a rusty nail that cut through you, pretty deep. I suggest ya let me do this to prevent an infection, it’ll be over before ya know it” you looked silently down at the cotton ball in his hand and sighed.

“On a count of three” he continued as you nodded and closed your eyes.

“1…2-“ unexpectedly Joel pressed the drenched cotton ball against your wound making you gasp and grab onto him. The intense stinging you felt, you hadn’t realized your hands were on his shoulders.

“You said on three!” You looked down at his hand still on your wound.

“Ok…that’s not that bad…” you took a deep breath as the stinging subsided before turning to Joel realizing his eyes had been locked on you. That’s when you noticed your hands on his shoulders and quickly pulled them away before Tommy’s voice distracted you both.

“I think I left the tool bag at the job today, I’m gonna ask our neighbor if he has something for now” Tommy called through the door.

“You go on, let Sarah know what’s goin’ on” Joel yelled back.

“Yeah, of course. You two alright?” Tommy asked a bit concerned.

“Yes, Im fine but I just cut myself on a nail-“

“Cut yourself?”

“She’s fine Tommy, I got her” Joel quickly interrupted. His eyes turning back to you as he spoke. How he wished he had you.

“Thanks, Joel. I’ll be right back”

Joel proceeded to grab tape and patch up your small wound to stop it from bleeding. Once he was done, he lowered your shirt and looked up at you.

“All done”

“Thank you” you whispered as you awkwardly looked away. The silence was loud, it was obvious there was a lot that was unsaid. Joel silently packing up the first aid kit when he broke the silence with an unexpected question.

“Do ya love him?” He blurt out making you look up at him.

“What?” You chuckled anxiously.

“You heard me” he looked directly into your eyes.

“Do ya love him?”

“Why do you care? That’s none of your business, just like you loving Sarah’s mother is none of mine-“

“I don’t” his response wasn’t one you expected. Joel was losing his patience, his jealousy eating at him, dying to know just how deep you two really were.

“Well that’s you” you stubbornly responded.

“You slept with him?” his question making your eyes widen but Joel almost seemed as if he was in a trance, focused on getting his answers.

“I beg your pardon?! You don’t get to ask me any of this, it’s none of your business” angrily you wanted to walk off but there was nowhere to go and he took advantage of that.

“How long have you been together for real? Cause from what it seems like to me-“

“Who the hell are you to say any of this?! We don’t need you permission to be together and you lost your chance to even know anything of me the day you threw me to the side like I never meant anything to your family-“

“I told you I was sorry, I know ya didn’t deserve that” He raised his voice loudly.

“Well sorry isn’t enough for you to think I’m suppose to act like nothing. I can’t believe you’re asking me any of this, as if you have a say”

“You wanna know why I’m asking you all of this?!” He stepped towards you making you take a step back.

“You wanna know why, sweetheart?” Too nervous to respond you swallowed hard and looked away feeling intimated by him.

“Because I love you.” Your heart stopped.

Joel had said something you never thought he would say, something you never even knew he felt.

“I fucking love you and I was too damn stupid to realize it before” yet for some reason you didn’t feel right hearing this. He threw you to the side after how much you had been there for him only to realize he was in love when his brother made a move.

This was an ego trip, at least it’s what it felt like.

“So now you realize you’ve been in love with the woman who’s been there for you, after you trashed her and found out your brother is fucking her?” You purposely lied using those words to hurt him, you and Tommy were never intimate as of yet still you wanted him to feel the hurt you felt and he did. His nostrils flared as his jaw tensed, his eyes directly looking into your cold ones. The thought of you sleeping with Tommy making him feel an anger he didn’t know he could ever feel. Still, he didn’t say a word, never breaking eye contact until Tommy appeared on the other side of the door.

“Ok guys, this should work” Joel turned away from you, walking angrily to the other side as his hands balled into tight fists when Tommy finally got the door opened.

“Finally” you whispered to see Tommy looking down at both of you.

“Hope I didn’t take too long” he called out to you both as you slowly made your way up the stairs holding your hip.

“Let me see this, you alright?” Joel heard his brother attend to you only pissing him off more. Tommy hugged you gently before leading you to the living room where you sat silently. You wanted to hurt Joel for what he made you feel before but little did he know you only conflicted yourself. Watching Tommy as he made sure you were comfortable, you felt guilty knowing after all this time you were still in love with Joel…

#pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader

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garfunklefield · 2 days

Note

i've been asking this a lot and no one do it😞😞

May you write a fic about Pirate sukuna X Mermaid reader??

PEARL

18+ viewer discretion is advised

mermaid!fem!reader/pirate!Ryomen Sukuna Warnings: pirate AU, dub-con, love at first sight, imprinting, sukunas personality is V complex here, soft sukuna, pining, kind of slow burn not really, drinking, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, slight humiliation kink, ass job, cumshot [back] backshots? mermaid sex sort of, idk man I'm making this up as we go SORRY Word count: 4936 DESC: Ryomen Sukuna never believed in mermaids, until he met you

NOW WHY WOULD NO ONE DO THIS!?!? I had so much fun writing this omg I LOVE THIS

Fair warning: this is kinda shit IM SORRY I have a HEADACHE

Sun blessed Ryomen’s features, kissing against his brow and creating a tan he could never escape from. The waves crashed against his ship and made it rock ever so slowly, back and forth, as he walked across the deck. He wasn’t sure how long he had been at sea, maybe a month or so, but he wasn’t getting any closer to his goal. The wood made a faint clicking sound under his heel as he paced, waiting for something. There was an island his crew had been in search of for months, but it was becoming a distant dream. There was no evidence it truly existed other than a map he had found in the depths of a library. The paper crinkled against his pant pocket, always reminding the captain it was there. There was never a moment where it wasn’t on his person. He didn’t trust anyone but his younger brother, Yuji, and his half-brother Choso. The two made for adequate help on board, but they weren’t serious. They enjoyed drinking into the night and regaling stories of mermaids. Psh, like those existed. Ryomen knew that tall tales existed, but he didn’t believe anyone thought they were still true.

Mermaids were the stuff of fiction. Although he had seen his fair share of weird shit, he drew the line at mermaids. Sirens too.

Yuji was leaning against the railing of the tip of the boat, staring off into the distance with squinted eyes. A small bandana wrapped around his forehead to stop more sunburns from creasing his skin, and to keep his hair clean from the sky. He was superstitious like that, always fearing too much sun could ruin his naturally pink locks. His brother was somewhat right, Ryomen’s hair was more washed out from sun exposure than Yuji’s. Choso was different, choosing to stay inside and tending to the food. His aura was melancholy and it reflected in how he walked, with a limp.

The rest of the crew were either downstairs or tending to their duties, keeping a watchful eye on their captain. Sukuna was a scary man when angered, but docile all the rest of the time. Most days he rarely spoke a word, unless it was to his brothers. His voice never raised above a mutter, unless he was angered. If he was upset, the whole ocean could hear him. And if he was intoxicated. But he didn’t drink anymore. Someone had to watch over the boat and make sure looters stayed clear of it.

Ryomen took this life very seriously, never straying from getting what he set out for. So it puzzled him as to why the island hadn’t appeared. They were in the right direction, they did everything right! So why was it so hard to find this treasure? It could buy him a new life, and his brothers a better life. That’s all he wanted. All the other men would rave about the riches and the women, but he didn’t care for that. Women never caught his eye, he instead cared for his family. Or, surprisingly, the misfortuned. His crew was made up of people who needed a second chance at life, people who wanted to start over. He never judged anyone’s past. He had no right to. He was just a lost soul floating on Earth as well.

“Ryomen,” Yuji’s voice broke through his thoughts, stopping his footsteps against the sun-washed wood. He raised his head and stared at his brother, waiting for him to continue, “Do you think we should anchor for the night?”

“Anchor?” One of his eyebrows quirked, “Now why would we do that?” It was rather odd to suggest such a thing. But the more the captain thought about it, the more it made sense. The wind wasn’t very strong today, making the ship keep at an almost standstill for the majority of the day. Anchoring could let everyone get a good night's rest for a longer journey the next day. Although Ryomen didn’t typically sleep at night. Someone had to keep watch, and he wanted his crew to be awake in the morning than at night. He didn’t mind losing out on some daylight hours if it meant keeping up productivity. The only reason he was awake now, was because it was an hour and a half until sunset, when his job began.

“Well,” his brother tilted his head to the side, pressing his lips together hesitantly. He had a stupid idea, “I was thinking we could have a bit of a party! Raise morale and make everyone a little less … depressed!”

Ryomen raised his hand and waved it in the air dismissively, “No one’s depressed. I’d know if they were, brat.”

He frowned, “They so are. Everyones been sluggish for days. Just one night of partying should reset us!” The boy perked up and waved his hands in the air, trying to convince his older brother, “C’mon! Ask Choso, I’m right.”

“Choso would only agree with you to spite me,” the man grumbled, looking away for a moment. Something caught his eye and made him stop. It was something shiny bobbing in the water, a few yards from the boat. A bright color, flowing across the sea in an almost blob-like fashion. Like… hair. Ryomen didn’t hear Yuji’s further protests, boots squeaking on the deck as he marched over to the side of the boat. He placed two of his rough hands on the railing and peered down, astonished when the blob was gone. It was weird. Just … disappeared into thin air as if it hadn’t been there just seconds before.

Yuji tapped his brother's shoulder, groaning into his ear, “C’monnnnn Ryommennnnnnnnnnn! Just one party!!” Like an incessant child who wanted a toy at the grocery store, he wasn’t going to stop until he got what he wanted.

He looked over at the boy with a muddled expression. Eyebrows furrowed together, he found himself searching his memories for an answer. Ryomen had seen unusual things before on the ocean, but never like that. Were his eyes playing tricks with him? Deceiving and pulling him from reality? Or were those tall tales really true? Nonsense, he shook his head, there wasn’t any reason to think that. His eyes were playing tricks on him, that had to be it. The pirate looked over at his brother once again, seeing his pleading expression, and nodded.

There would be a party.

Just because you were a mermaid didn’t mean you were a special one. You considered yourself normal, in every sense of the word. A regular mermaid with a regular life, who went to work and came home at the same time every day. Swam the same channels and hung out with her friends on the weekend. You didn’t find yourself longing for more or wishing you were special. You were content. That was until you noticed the shadow. You had heard of humans before and been told the same story. Don’t go up to the surface, they could spot you and kill you. Humans feared the unknown and mermaids were exactly that. You followed and respected the rules, so your curiosity never got the better of you, until you noticed the shadow.

It was a large shadow cast over your coral reef home, making it almost impossible to see. At first, you thought they were building a new mall overhead or perhaps a new traveling show in town. But as you swam closer to the surface, with the cooler water brushing against your fins, you realized it was human. A ship. You had heard of ships before yet you had never seen one this close to your home. Housing closer to the surface was cheaper for being more dangerous, but you didn’t think you were that close.

The boat was brown, and covered in wood panels. Something came over your brain as you swam closer and closer, taking in the bottom side. One of your hands reached out before you and touched the cold wood, brushing against the edge with your fingertips. It was foreign to you. You had never let yourself explore before. You had never let yourself be curious before. It was an addicting feeling. Your eyes glazed over as your tail propelled you further up until your head was bobbing out of the water. Long hairs, of different colors spread out across you, hiding your form in a cave of strands. You watched with interest at the top of the boat, your eyes catching on one man in particular.

He was gorgeous. Pink hair, pushed up in a spikey fashion, with the under part shaved and a dark brown color. His cheekbones were high and hollow, signaling he hadn’t had a good meal in months. But his body showed otherwise. The constant running, walking, and standing, meant he was built. Arms, covered in black ink, broke out from his sleeveless shirt and flexed in the sunlight. Ink covered his neck, lightly stopping by his jaw. It dipped into his front, and you just knew there was more. He hadn’t noticed you yet, staring at a boy who looked similar to him. They were talking about something you couldn’t hear, but from reading their lips, you deciphered his name.

Ryomen. It was an ancient name, something you hadn’t heard before. You wanted to think about it more and admire him from afar, but he turned his head and spotted you. He didn’t see you, but your hair flowed before you in the water. It made your heart drop to see his face contort. It wasn’t hatred, but a look of shock, followed by disbelief. As he walked closer to the edge of the boat, you made your decision and dove back under the water, floating backward to hide yourself in the depths of the waves.

The night rolled around faster than the pirate captain had anticipated. Stars lit up the sky and illuminated the ship, although most of the light came from the lanterns strung across columns. He didn’t drink but opted to sit on a barrel and watch as his shipmates did. They all danced around and sang as if there wasn’t a care in the world. He would’ve danced with them, or done something lively, but he couldn’t get that image out of his head. He had seen something in the water, something alive. It watched him through a veil of thick-colored hair, that bobbed in the ocean’s water. And it ran away the moment it realized he had seen it.

“Ryomen,” a voice behind the man made him jump. He looked over and saw his half-brother, with a tired look across his features, staring back at him, “You should dance.”

“I’m tired.”

“Ryomen,” he said knowingly, “stop worrying and enjoy yourself.”

“I said I’m-” but he was cut off again by a pointed look from Choso. He was hot-headed, sure, but Choso was another level if angered. Ryomen let out a breath and got up, slipping off his jacket. Yuji had brought his fiddle, playing some tune everyone had heard of. It was simple but drowned out by the voices of their laughter and singing. It was a cheery moment, filled with more screams once their captain got up and bowed dramatically.

“Captain!” A crewmate, Nobara, chided. She strolled over to him and took his hand, “Dance with me, will ya?” She was about Yuji’s age, which made her almost a younger sister in his eyes. He took her hand and put another on her shoulder. With one movement he picked the younger girl up and set her feet atop her shoes, striding around the deck with a small smile. She giggled and laughed, holding onto him so she wouldn’t fall. It even made him smile wider, which was strange considering he used to never smile until he met his crew. They all … softened him. Showed Ryomen a side of himself he hadn’t known before.

The captain didn’t notice, in fact, no one noticed they had a guest. From a gap in the railing, a small hole, you watched. You never left. Your curiosity was starting to get you into more dangerous situations, hanging off the edge of the boat all to see a man who didn’t know you existed. You watched him as his face contorted into a smile, echoing laughter radiating from his chest. It calmed you, to see this side of him. Watching him dance and have an amazing time, all without realizing someone was watching.

They danced for another hour and drank for several. But you never left. You ducked your head when the crewmates got close and peeked up to meet Ryomen’s rugged face. He didn’t notice you, no one else did. They were lost in their own world and you were more thankful than ever. His eyes had softened and his smile was radiating, so you were surprised when everyone had left that it… disappeared. The captain put his coat back on and looked around. He didn’t do much to the bottles lying across the deck, or the garbage, opting to kick it with his shoe. There was a hollow look on his face and you desperately wanted to know why. What changed him from turning so happy and charismatic into… that? You had to admit, it was hot. And you had to admit, you were beginning to feel a way about this man you had never felt about anyone before. A loud heartbeat thumped in your ears and made the world slightly fog over, in a daze.

You had imprinted on him.

It’s a bit self-explanatory, but I’ll explain it for a bit. Seeing someone, the someone in mermaids sets off a biological code. They can tell from the moment they meet that person that that’s their lover, their someone, for the rest of their lives. It was complex, seeing as you were two different species. And, seeing as he didn’t even know your existence. You couldn’t get the feeling out of your head that he was meant to be yours, in some universe or lifetime.

You didn’t realize it, from all this info dumping, but being out of the water for so long had dried up your tail, causing you to transform. A bit more lore, if you will. Mermaids, in any body of water, will form a tail around their legs as a protective barrier. Although, out of the water their legs are shown and they can use them, it’s illegal and forbidden to even go above the water and test this theory out. Many mermaids who've tried to live undercover as humans always get outed in some way or another, so after so many terrible disastrous stories, the king outlawed it. You always followed the rules, but you knew it would happen. Looking down, you gasped and stared for a moment before warmth spread across your inner legs.

Masturbating as a mermaid was always kind of a chore, finding the sensitive spot over your tail and rubbing until you got somewhere took forever. But you always heard stories from your more adventurous friends that masturbation with legs was heavenly. Your eyes glanced from your bare legs back to Ryomen who was seated on another barrel and staring at the open ocean. It was so wrong, to touch yourself in front of someone who had no idea, but you couldn’t help yourself. You grabbed onto the ledge and slid one of your hands in between your legs, spreading apart your foreign folds. It was wet and slippery, but a different kind of wetness. Not from water, but natural lubrication. Your teeth found your bottom lip, biting down to suppress a noise when your fingers brushed over a sensitive spot. Was this the clit? It felt so good, that you started to focus solely on it. Rubbing small circles over your clit and praying you wouldn’t be too loud.

It felt like you were on fire, watching the captain and imagining what he would do to you. His cock, because human cocks were much better than mermaid cocks, you’ve heard, would feel so good in your wet pussy. You could imagine him stretching you out and fucking into you with such sheer force it would hurt. It would be different from the sex you’ve had before, no more men laying eggs in you. But instead, pumping bucket loads of sperm inside your tight hole. Your fingers slipped into your cunt, three at a time. Small noises escaped from your mouth and before long you began to unravel. You could see it on the horizon, and feel the orgasm building in your stomach. It was so good, it was so hot. You tried your hardest not to moan too loud, but you did. It was a small noise that could have been passed off as a grunt or perhaps a pained noise. But he knew.

Ryomen’s head snapped in your direction and he saw your face contorted in some kind of pleasure. You pressed your lips together and widened your eyes, thinking of something to do. But in that moment, you were frozen. It was fear, but it was excitement. You had been caught and humiliated, and it felt so hot. Your fingers trailed up from your pussy and to the ledge, glistening in the light. The captain just stared at you for a moment, trying to wrap his head around what exactly to do next. He was face to face with a mermaid of some sort, who he had just heard moan. He stood up and slowly made his way over to you, boots squeaking.

“You,” he gruffed, kneeling to look you over. You stared up at him with wide eyes. He was gorgeous up close too, something out of a fairytale. You wanted to extend your hand and reach out for him, let him pull you up and into his embrace.

“Me,” you repeated sheepishly, a hazy blush forming at your temple. Ryomen reached for your hand and took it, looking over your delicate skin. You went to continue, but he pulled you up. You gasped and let go of the ledge, then found yourself being thrown backward into the water. When your frame hit the water, a shriek escaped your lips and was cut short.

“You!” You gasped, breaking the surface tension and appearing back from the waves, “What the hell was that for?!?” He raised a calculated eyebrow and nodded, standing up. The captain's body shifted from side to side as he debated a response. You could see the wheels turning in his head as he decided if he should even respond to you, or leave you to drown. Of course, you wouldn’t drown, but it was the thought behind it that left a sour taste in your mouth.

“You’re a siren. Some kind of temptress trying to infiltrate my crew,” he spoke proudly as if he had come to the right conclusion. You stared up at him with a dumbfounded expression. How could he be so far from the truth? You weren’t there to tempt him into diving in and drowning, that was an outdated stereotype. The majority of the mermaids and sirens you knew didn’t want anything to do with humans. Why would he think that? In all honesty, you just wanted to feel his skin again. When he grabbed you, you had a chance to feel his rough calloused hands against yours. He was strong and warm—a warmth you had never experienced before.

“I wasn’t gonna-” A frown pulled at your lips, swimming forward to the base of the ship. With force and a lot of groaning, you made your way back up to the ledge with arm strength alone. The man watched you without a caring look in his eye. To him you were here to ruin his mission, the quest he had taken so long for. You were … his enemy. You weren’t sure how to make him see you didn’t want any harm, but rather him. In those few hours of just watching Ryomen and seeing him operate, you had begun to fall for him, even imprinting on his being. It was a tale as old as time, a creature falling in love with a human who couldn’t want anything to do with them. You had heard it play out before, but you wanted to try. Something about him felt different, even if his initial reaction was the same.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” the words flowed out of your mouth gently, taking the captain by surprise. You saw it in the way his eyebrow twitched, and the corners of his mouth pulled down into a frown, “I’ve been watching you all today. You intrigue me, Ryomen.”

“How do you know my name, wench?” He sneered back at you, a cold wall in place of the warm exterior you had seen moments prior with his crew.

“I heard it. I heard a lot.. I don’t want to hurt you,” you looked down at your hands, then to your tail that flowed in the small breeze, “I don’t want to hurt you or your crew.”

He was silent for a moment, lips pressed into a line. He stared at you with an expression that was hard to read. Thinking, calculating, and figuring out his next move. Ryomen was truly stunned. He had never expected a siren to be real and approaching him. And he had never expected one to be so … beautiful. The captain had to admit, he was captivated by your beauty from the moment he saw your orgasm face. Yeah, he knew what you were doing. He didn’t want to think about how it turned him on to be watched like that, hear your sweet moans fill the salty air.

Sukuna knew the tale, a beautiful siren would take in a captain and make him jump. He knew it all too well, so he couldn’t trust you, not even if he wanted to. A part of him did want to. He noticed the fact you grew legs, followed by a tail in their place. He could see the appeal of drying you off and fucking a baby into you, then throwing you overboard and leaving. But something was different. There was a genuine tone in your voice and there was a genuine flutter in his heart. He would never admit this, or show you his warmth as he did his crew. You were a stranger who deserved nothing but a cold exterior and a cold heart.

“Then what do you want?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow. You let a moment pass, silence falling all around you. You didn’t want to say it because the answer would make you completely and utterly vulnerable. But you had to, you had to say something.

“You.” The words rang in Ryomen’s ears for a few moments as he stared at you with incredulous eyes. You wanted him? Even after he threw you into the ocean for dead, you wanted him? You wanted this man when he showed you nothing, not kindness, not hatred, just nothing? He didn’t want to believe he had just accidentally captivated you so much that you’d fall for him, in hours no less. The captain stood and watched you, taking in your form. Your hair was covering bits of your face, and blue scales covering bits of your skin. It didn’t cover your breasts, exposing your perked nipples to the cold wind. It didn’t cover the skin of your stomach, how your rolls were accentuated in the light.

He couldn’t deny he was a little bit curious, and the curiosity was turning into a perverted lust building in his abdomen. He had a mermaid at his will, a pretty one too, willing to do anything for him. The man could tell, from how you stared at him. So in love. It was cute, it made even his heart flutter just a bit. But it was still Ryomen, as warm as he was to his crew he was still a cold-hearted man. And he was a man. A lonely man, who hadn’t seen someone look at him with such love in his whole life. It was intoxicating, how you devoted yourself without thinking. Imprinting. He had read about it but never seen it in person. Hell, he had never seen a mermaid in person before. It was all new to Ryomen. There were mixtures of love, lust, warmth, coldness, confusion, love- love? He didn’t know you! How could he love you? But… it wasn’t natural. There was a pull, different from his other thoughts. It took over his thoughts and made him forget those perversions. It made him want to kneel and take your hand, pulling you from the water and holding you close. Was this the effect of your imprinting somehow rubbing off of him? Or was it… being shown unbridled love and affection that made Ryomen crumble?

Ryomen didn’t say anything, leaning down and taking your hand. His eyes intimately met with yours, as his hand enveloped yours. You looked down at him and a small gasp escaped your lips when he lifted you, without breaking a sweat. His arm flexed in the dull light, and you collapsed against his chest. Wet, you clung to him and rested your face against his pectorals.

“You… want me?” You murmured, not bothering to look up at him.

“I don’t know. I’m drawn, I’ll say that.” his breath was warm against your ear, making the hairs on your neck stand up. He was holding you up, so your tail didn’t drag on the ground. It wasn’t long or big, so it didn’t make a loud commotion as he set you down on the deck, “You.. need to dry off, huh?”

Your head nodded, thinking that would be that. You didn’t expect him to pick you up again, laying you on your stomach. A moan-like breath escaped from your lips, “Ryomen?” You turned slightly to watch, but something stopped you in your tracks. He was drawn to you, in more ways than one. It was your imprinting, rubbing off on him, making you drunk on his scent. Yes, Sukuna had his own will, but he couldn’t help but be drawn to you. Your eyes, maybe that’s what it was? Those tales of sirens were right, except it wasn’t just lust he was feeling. Maybe he was imprinting as well? If humans ever could. Love at first sight, which caused massive arousal on his part.

The entire point I’m trying to drill home is, that the captain was (whether he liked it or not) stuck with you, and he did like it. You couldn’t control your desires for him as much as he could. You knew he was the one and that aura surrounding yourself brought him in, making him feel safe. But onto the matter at hand? His erection was out, glistening in the pale light. You bit your bottom lip as you saw it bob from his left hand slowly stroking up his shaft. He didn’t know how mermaids consummated, because your penetration hole was not behind you, so you weren’t entirely sure what he was doing.

Then you felt it, he pressed his length against your asscheeks, frotting it back and forth to create stimulation. A small whine came falling from your bite-swollen lips, feeling the foreign sensation, “I think… we’re going to have to get to know each other,” Ryomen breathed out between his thrusts in between your asscheeks.

You said your name lowly, giving a brief description of your life. It was boring, with no parents and no siblings. So you had no qualms about leaving and starting over with this hot sailor. He nodded to your story and asked questions about different aspects. For him rutting into your behind, it was oddly casual. As if the two of you had silently agreed, this was normal, and you were now committed. Then he narrated his tale, growing up an orphan with two younger brothers to take care of. How he wanted a better life for his siblings and by doing this exploration, he’d get that. At points, the two of you forgot he was even humping your ass to begin with. It was so intimate, that detail slipped your mind.

It didn’t though, when his grip on your hips tightened, sharp nails digging into your scaled skin. He gaped and groaned, throwing his head back. You felt so good, different than the women he had fucked before. You were good and quiet, letting him hump you until he was about to cum. Then Ryomen leaned back and stroked himself to completion, spilling all on your pretty little back. You gasped and shuddered at the cold sperm, dripping onto your lower back.

“Warning, next time,” you breathed out, looking back at him.

Ryomen smiled and nodded, “Of course. Are you dry yet?”

You looked down at your still very mermaid bottom half and glanced back at him, “Do I look dry?” A hearty laugh escaped his mouth and he shook his head as you continued, “Just a few more minutes. Am I officially coming home with you? I mean, I’d like to, if you’re offering.”

“I don’t think I have a choice. I just came on your…” He trailed off, “I don’t even know why I,” another laugh, “Did that. I think you imprinted- or maybe I imprinted? I just… feel something for you I’ve never felt for anyone else before.”

“You mean it?”

“Mean it.”

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torialefay · 2 days

Text

Take It Like A Real Man

sub!chan x dom!afab!reader 🔞

✨ synopsis: Chris has been a consistent dom throughout your entire relationship, which is why you are very surprised when he asks for one of your biggest sexual fantasies to come true.

✨ request from: @chrizzztopherbang

✨ warnings: degradation, offensive language, anal play, pegging, probably some more?

You’d been toying with Chan for the past several weeks. With the way that he made you feel, how could you not?

You loved your boyfriend, don’t get me wrong. And sex with him was amazing every time. But maybe you just wanted to… spice things up a bit?

Chan was the most dominant guy you’d ever been with in the bedroom. Choking you, spanking you, and pounding the absolute shit out of you almost every day. You felt so small underneath him. Like a toy to him. But lately… you thought about what it would be like for him to be a toy for you.

He’d been looking too good recently. Walking around in his slutty little tank tops and his sweatpants. His jaw was looking sharper than usual and you could tell his biceps were getting bigger day by day. You’d almost shudder from excitement every time he came up to hug you from behind, feeling the outline of his bulge graze you ever so slightly, though you knew that wasn’t his intention. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly one thing, but there was something (everything) about him that was driving you insane.

So you decided to… test the waters. You began to initiate the make-outs more. You decided you’d be the one to climb on top of him more. The first to grind into him and take charge. To push him down and hold him there while you rode him on top. And the more you got comfortable, you felt like you could be rougher too, lightly choking him and whispering dirty things to him.

And by his reaction, you could tell that he fucking loved it. However, by the end of the night, he always ended up taking over. He’d still fuck you into oblivion with your face in the pillow until you couldn’t breathe. No matter what you did to him, he was a dom after all.

One day after work, a bright sign caught your attention. You’d driven past it a million times without a second thought. But today, something about it felt different. The sign for a sex shop.

You figured it couldn’t hurt to go in and look around. Maybe buy a few things that looked fun. You strolled through each section, getting some essentials like lube and sex toy cleaner. But as you walked past, the bondage and sub sections caught your eye. One thing specifically. A strap on harness with a vibrator built in for your clit.

You couldn’t help but be curious. And let’s be real, Chan would never want that… Would he? He’d always ended up giving into his dom tendencies no matter how much you offered up.

‘It would be stupid to buy it,’ you said to yourself, pulling your arm back in. ‘Just a waste of money.’

After you’d stepped only a few feet away, you were already stopped by another product you’d only ever seen online. A cock ring.

You took the box into your hands, reading it over and flipping it around to get a good look. It didn’t look too intimidating. Nothing too scary.

‘Now this… maybe this I could work with,’ you grinned.

You balanced the box in your hands along with your other products. You turned on your heels to exit the section and head towards the register before you could be tempted by anything else that you saw. Everything that Chan wouldn’t want.

You walked only a few feet though before you stopped. Your mind couldn’t kick it out. The strap on. How hot Chan would look under you. If he was able to take it all and give in to you. How fucking beautiful he would look moaning for you and getting so overstimulated that he couldn’t stand it.

Fogging your head, you decided to just buy the damn thing. ‘So what if I lose some money?’ you thought. A girl can dream.

A few months had gone by with a pretty similar routine. You’d often take the lead at the beginning, and about halfway through, Chan would finish it off. That is, IF Chan didn’t initiate it first and set you up from the beginning.

But today felt a bit different.

Chris had just gotten home looking (surprise) fucking delicious. It had been a late night studio session, so you could see the tiredness in his eyes. Which is why you were startled when he seemed to actually be in a great mood.

“Hey baby!” he said, coming up to squeeze you in a hug on the couch and nuzzling his head against your cheek. So cute. So different from his tendencies in the bedroom.

“Well someone’s happy!” you giggled back. “Good day today?”

He looked at you with excited eyes. “We finally got done with a track we’d been stuck on for weeks. I think it turned out so good. This is really one of the best songs I think we’ve made,” he smiled.

You gave him a tight squeeze. “That’s great baby. I’m so proud of you.” You leaned in to place a soft peck to his nose.

He blushed a bit as he said thank you.

On instinct, you scooted yourself to the side of the couch a bit. “Wanna lay your head down?” you asked, patting your lap.

You knew this was Chan’s favorite. Laying his head on you and letting you brush your fingers through his curls, massaging his scalp as you went. It was the most amazing way for him to destress. But at this moment, when he got it and he wasn’t even stressed? Well that was an even higher rush for him.

He grinned ear to ear as he moved to lie on his back and place his head perfectly in the middle of your lap, giving you access to him right underneath you.

You continued to talk about both of your days. The best and the worst parts. Apparently the boys were annoying all day, so having the good session tonight was exactly what Chan needed. You talked to him about the song, with him teasing you and telling you he wasn’t gonna show you yet.

“You know that’s not fair!” you protested, trying to pout. “Come on pleaseeeee.”

“No, I’m not gonna show you,” he teased again, shaking his head cutely.

You began to run your hands more softly and slower through his hair, hoping it would coerce him a bit. Let him know that you would take your time with him.

“It’s okay,” you smirked. “You’re gonna give in anyways.” Did you sound like a know-it-all? Yes. But did you sound like a cute know-it-all? Also yes.

Chris smiled. “Not this time. I’m putting my foot down.” He innocently raised one leg on the couch just to push it down sharply as if he were fake stomping.

“Oh really?” you started, dragging your voice down. You began to slowly glide one hand from his head, down his neck, and then to comfortably rub across his pecs, massaging them at your own pace. “I’ll do anything,” you plead with big eyes, trying your best to seduce him into it.

Chan put a look on his face to act like he was puzzled. “Aaanything?”

“Say the word-“ you leaned down to press a short kiss to his mouth, “and it’s yours.”

You took this moment to rub down further, down his abs, tracing lines along the way, until you got just above his waistband. You teased around a bit, dragging your finger along as if contemplating what to do with it.

You waited patiently as Chan wiggled underneath you. Observing his reactions, you realized how blushed he was.

“Is this what you want?” you asked softly, moving a few fingers past the band of his boxers. You didn’t want to touch him- yet. Just wanted to watch him and see what he would do.

“Mhmm,” he huffed out, repositioning his head so that he could see better.

After massaging around him and around his thighs, you brought your hand up to your mouth. You spit in it as best you could before lowering it back to it’s original position.

This time, you snaked your hand straight down to where his dick was. Almost completely hard already without you having to touch it. You decided you’d be bold.

“Oh, is this what you like baby? You like this?” you smiled menacingly as you rubbed up and down, covering his cock with the saliva.

Chan was embarrassed. You could tell. Was it because he didn’t like it but didn’t have the heart to tell you? Or was it because he was enjoying this more than he thought he should… you being in charge of him. Talking to him like this.

From how hard his dick was underneath your hand, you were willing to bet it was the second one.

You let yourself stroke a little bit harder, making sure to swirl the tip of your thumb around his opening. He hissed slightly at the feeling.

“What is it baby? Feels too good? You can’t even talk to me?” You teased.

Chan just wiggled in response, bucking up into your hand for more contact.

You let him go on for a few seconds before abruptly pulling your hand away. Now was the time to try.

“If you don’t tell me what you want, I can’t give you anything baby,” you smiled, knowing how flustered he was.

Chan relaxed his head as he laid it back, closing his eyes and letting himself catch his breath. After a few deep breaths, he gave a hesitant sigh. You watched as he began to fidget with his fingers. Knobby and lacing around each other, they were almost shaking. He looked… mad?

With one final suck of air, he sat himself up. You didn’t quite know how to react.

“I’m sorry,” you said impulsively as he turned his body toward yours. You were a bit frantic trying to fix things. “I didn’t mean to push you into doing something you don’t like. I know you’d rather be in control, and I like that too. Let’s go back to that, okay?”

“No, it’s not-“ Chan cleared his throat. “It’s not that.” He cracked his knuckles while looking down. “I need to talk to you about something first… I’ve wanted to talk to you about it for a while, but I guess I’ve just been nervous about what you’ll say and how you’ll react and what you’ll think of me, and just, I don’t know. Maybe I’m making it a big deal for nothing. I just don’t want you to think differently of me if you’re not into it and maybe if it’s weird to you. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being pressured into anything. And I don’t want you to think it’s not enough for me if we don’t do it because I do love the way that we are now. Things have been so great and I don’t want any of this to mess us up-“

“Babe, you’re rambling,” you stared at him. “Whatever it is, it’s okay. You can tell me.”

He held his breath for a moment before continuing. “Promise you won’t judge?”

“I pinky promise.” You reached your hand to rest on top of his, intertwining your pinky finger underneath his own.

He let his pinky grip to it tightly. “Well ever since you’ve been getting, you know, more involved in starting things with me, I have really enjoyed it. But you know it’s kind of just instinct for me to take over. I can’t really help it, you know. Just when you look so good, it gets too hard for me to stop myself…” He waited for a moment before trying to start again. “But I’ve been seeing stuff… Like porn, I mean," he cleared his throat sheepishly. "And that combined with the way you’ve been acting lately, I think- I think I’d like to try something. But it’s kind of weird and nothing we’ve ever talked about, so you can absolutely say no. I mean, I may have even ended up hating it, so maybe it’s best we didn’t even have this conversation and we just forget about it so-“.

“Christopher! Please for the love of God just tell me. What do you want to try?” You’d spoken louder than you’d meant to.

Fidgeting with his hands again, he finally admitted it. “I want to let you be more dominant. And I want you to be in control the whole time.”

“That’s it? You’re embarrassed about that?” you almost cackled over how ridiculous it was for him to make such a big deal about that. It wasn’t like you weren’t slowly working your way there.

“Well, no. I also wanted to try… maybe, I don't know... pegging? Like if you were pegging me. If it’s weird, we don’t have to, but I’ve been th-“ he got cut off by the sound of you.

“Oh my gosh!!!” you sprung up from your seat and quickly made your way to the closet. There, at the back, you’d had your secret stash hidden away for months. You grabbed the bag filled with lube, the strap on, and the cock ring. You squealed as you ran back into the living room where your boyfriend was waiting with a confused face. He squinted his eyes at you, waiting for you to go on.

“Okay SO,” you started, voice full of pep, “a little while back, I was just shopping around and, well, I saw these and thought maybe one day, I’d be able to convince you to let us try.” You smiled as you pulled out both the strap on and the cock ring at the same time, letting the lube in the bag hit the ground.

Chris started laughing, not able to believe his eyes. “Hahaha, no wayyy,” he carried his raised voice.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” you teased, swaying your hips as you walked up closer to him. As you took a seat on the couch, you snaked your arms around his neck. You gave him a few quick pecks on his lips before smirking and running one hand down his torso as slowly as you could, letting him enjoy it. You leaned in beside his ear, letting hot breath hit it for a moment. “We need to move this to the bedroom. But you’re gonna be good and listen to me this time, okay?”

You felt Chan shiver and get shy all of a sudden. “Okay,” a tiny grin appeared as he crossed his hands in his lap.

You stood first, holding your hand out for him to grab onto. You quickly bent to retrieve your lube and new toys. You gently pulled Chan’s hand along to follow as you made your way to the bedroom. As you walked, you were silently thankful that you’d already taken everything out of the box to clean it.

You gingerly tossed everything onto the bed before turning to wrap your arms around Chan’s neck again. As you found his lips, you used your position as an advantage to pull his neck down and his face closer to yours.

Chan scared to put his hands on you, you pulled back, smiling, feeling like you’d won already. “You can touch me now, Channie.”

He blushed before resting his veiny hands on your waist. This time, you were sure you would attach your lips to his permanently. As you kissed, you bit and tugged and pulled as Chan gave into you. He let out little moans as you kept pulling him in closer, devouring every inch of his plump lips. You ravaged until you couldn’t stand it anymore.

With a dramatic gasp, rushing air into your tight lungs, you pulled back. You stared into his face. It was so nervous yet excited. It was the most endearing thing you’d ever seen. You smirked as you watched him groveling.

“Clothes off. Now.” you instructed.

You watched as Chan immediately was humbled. Without hesitation, he stripped himself of his top, revealing his rough abs, which he seemed to be shy about all of a sudden. He covered himself by crossing his arms slightly as he pulled his pants down and stepped out of them.

You stood, running your eyes up and down his exposed body, cocking one brow. You knew he felt so exposed like this.

“Underwear?” you ordered more than asked.

He looked so small as he hunched over to remove them, revealing his already semi-hard cock.

You smiled, obviously staring at his dick. “You’re that excited already?”

He gulped, not knowing what to say. Standing meekly, hoping you wouldn’t make him continue with words.

“It’s cute you’re this riled up for me baby,” you said, walking in closer and quickly grabbing his dick in your hands. You began to stroke it quickly, dry, with no warning.

He hissed in response, contorting his face.

“I think we could do better though, huh? Pull my clothes off of me,” you demanded.

He hurriedly reached to the hem of your shirt to pull it up and over your head. He hooked around for the bra straps next, running his arms around your back as quickly as he could. He didn’t want to disappoint you so soon.

You swatted at his arms. “Did I say you could see my tits? So fucking greedy… Take off my shirt and pants ONLY. I don’t want to have to say it again.”

If the instantaneous stiffening of Chan’s dick was any indication of how much he was enjoying this, then he must have been on goddamn cloud nine.

He whimpered slightly, moving his hands back slowly and down to the area just below your waist. He swiftly undid the buttons on your jeans and lowered himself to be able to remove them from you fully.

“Stay,” you instructed.

You couldn’t have loved this sight more. Your boyfriend bent for you, looking up with doe eyes. Right at the level of your pussy. What could be more perfect?

You placed a hand in his hair, harshly pushing his head forward until it was almost touching you.

“Lick. Now. Like you fucking mean it.” Your voice came out bitchier than you thought possible. But that was the point.

Chan hurriedly leaned in to run his tongue along the outside of your clothed pussy, starting from bottom to top. The slight sensation felt almost too good after all of the pent up tension you’d been feeling. You watched the way his tongue moved slowly, up and down. If he wasn’t in this position, you’d think he was teasing you. But with your hand resting on the back of his head, you knew you’d have full control. And he knew that too.

Chan moved his tongue suddenly, intently, to the side of your pussy, toying at the fabric of your underwear. It was like he was trying to move it out of the way with the force of his tongue only.

“Keep going,” you instructed, releasing a light moan. “Lick underneath them and keep your eyes up here.”

Chris was quick to follow your instructions, swiftly locking his eyes into yours. You smiled at him- encouragement that he was doing so well for you.

You shivered as he planted his cheek into the side of you pussy, letting his tongue run along underneath the material of the the underwear.

“Taste that baby. You’re gonna taste all of me. Take it in your mouth,” you directed.

You observed the look on his face as he bit the underwear up and into his mouth, inhaling deeply. His eyes shut for a moment, taking in the experience. It looked utterly blissful for him.

“Eyes! I’m not going to fucking tell you again!” you yelled, yanking his head back so that he’d look up at you.

Big, shiny eyes flashed onto yours. Apologetic, but loving. After all of this. He loved this. He relished in this. Nothing could beat this.

“Back to to my pussy. Open your mouth and stick your tongue out,” you ordered him, keeping one hand on his hair as the other reached down to move your underwear out of the way.

Chan did as instructed, which earned him a pleased smile and a ramming of his head into your pussy. You quickly guided his head up and down, soaking his nose and tongue in your juices. The combination hit just the right spot.

You froze as you felt the euphoric combination. His nose hitting you clit with his tongue poked perfectly into your entrance.

“Right there, holy shit,” you moaned, fucking his face in this position. You held his head steady as you bounced yourself up and down on him. The feeling was almost indescribable.

You felt him trying to pull back slightly, needing to search for air.

“You don’t breathe unless I tell you to fucking breathe!” you shouted, pushing his face in harder.

You watched him sink down slightly, his body creeping lower to the floor. You used this to your advanced, moving your hips with a quickening speed across his face.

Going and going and going until you almost couldn’t anymore.

Once you were almost satisfied, you bunched Chan’s hair in your hand and yanked him off of you. His eyes scrunched closed as he heaved in heavily, gasping and panting heavily.

“Finally put that big fucking nose to good use, huh? You liked that, didn’t you? Burying your nose so deep in my fucking cunt? You’re such a dirty boy.”

You used the hand that was once holding your underwear to rest on his chin, spreading your thumb to hold one side of his face and the rest of your fingers on the other. You squeezed his cheeks hard, making his lips puff out as you lowered yourself to get closer to his level.

You leaned in to plant a kiss to his waiting lips. You slid your hand down to release his face and instead take hold around his neck. Your other hand laced around to take residence in the hair at the back of his head.

Now, you kissed, him deeply, throwing yourself into him and making him take it all. He threw his tongue into your mouth, letting out soft mewls as you bit back.

You were so lost in the kiss that your head began to spin, moving his head in every direction to gain access to new parts of his mouth.

You began to stand, clutching Chan’s neck to pull him up with you, never disconnecting his lips from yours. The smell of saliva and your juices took over as you each buried yourselves in. Locking into each other as you were both fully erect.

You each tangled your hands around each other as you stood for a long few moments, enjoying the passion between the two of you before you started toying with him once again.

Once the air was rushing out of your head, you pulled yourself back harshly. You scanned over his beautiful face, drenched in liquid. His lips were red and puffy, his eyes clouded over, but chipper as if awaiting what was to come next.

‘This fucking boy,’ you thought.

You quickly spit onto your hand as you hastened your hand down to grab Chan’s dick again. Jerking quickly, you could tell by his face that it was completely overstimulating all too quickly. But you couldn’t help it. He just looked too cute.

He whimpered as you kept going, looking like he would lose his breath at any moment. The sounds just turned you on more.

“You can’t even handle this? Can’t handle getting your dick touched without fucking blowing? You better not fucking cum Christopher,” you demanded.

Chan’s face contorted, puffing out his cheeks and throwing his head back to stifle any moans that would have come out. His face was visibly red. His abs began to twitch as you stroked him even harder. Faster. You knew he wouldn’t be able to last anymore. His dick peaked, as hard as you’d ever felt it. A new sensation had been unlocked. A few more pumps and he’d be over.

As suddenly as you started, you jerked your hand back and off of him. Below, you watched in awe as his dick was still quivering from the arousal it had been getting. Up and down, back and forth, slightly as he let out muffled whines, eyes almost tearing up.

You chuckled softly, making sure it was loud enough so that he could hear it. “You really are a subby baby, aren’t you?” you smiled deviously.

Resting a hand on his beating chest, you walked him backward until his knees undid over the bed and he was propelled down.

Wasting no time, you grabbed the brightly-colored lube bottle next to his head and squeezed it out into your hand. It was cold, which you figured would be perfect for the occasion.

You perched yourself on your knees next to Chan, reaching your hands down to begin massaging the lube onto him. He winced at the chill of your touch, but soon started to warm up as you massaged it into him. He let his eyes flutter closed as he began taking deep breaths, enjoying this small stent of peace.

“No falling asleep now,” you teased. “Wake up and put this on,” you demanded, throwing the cock ring at him.

Before he could react, the plastic-y material hit him in the chest, bouncing down to land on his torso. He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down with wide eyes and his mouth gaped.

You watched as he swallowed harshly, looking as if he was trying to find the right words. He took the toy and rotated it around in one hand, searching for an answer.

“Uhmm, I don’t-“ he started, looking defeated. “I don’t think I know how…”

“Awww, little baby can’t figure it out?” you taunted, leaning down. “Can’t wrap his pretty little brain around it? Poor thing.” You quickly jerked it from his hand.

“Watch,” you raised your voice at him, lifting your eyebrows as if to threaten him. You held the ring in your hands, coating it in the left-over, slippery lube. Pressing it down and onto the tip of his dick, it was already a tight fit, wrapping around him snuggly. You admired the way the blood rushed through, leaving the tip of him totally engorged. “Feels good already, doesn’t it?” you giggled as he let out a breath he’d been holding in, writhing and looking pitiful beneath you.

“But you can do more,” you said airily as you began working the ring down his length. He let out small moans and grunts along the way until you made it to the base of his shaft.

It was the perfect size. Just tight enough to keep him wiggling, but not too tight to stop him from experiencing the heightened sensations.

“Mmm, isn��t that better?” You smiled. “Good boy,” you praised, lowering your face to plant a slow kiss on his tip. “For now,” you jolted up. “Now flip over. I want you on your hands and knees,” you instructed.

Chan offered an overt gulp before complying with your request.

Once he’d gotten into position, you could tell he was a bit nervous. This was the most vulnerable he’d ever been with you. And a part of you questioned if he would back out now. Would he make it this far before he realized he couldn’t go through with it?

You pushed the thoughts out of your head, realizing that those were your insecurities in this, not his. And you’d make for fucking sure that he wouldn’t want to stop this.

You grasped his hips and pulled them back, arching his back slightly to get his ass higher up. Stealthily, you held onto each side, rubbing harshly before planting short smacks, leaving behind the sound of sharp skin.

A smile eased across your face as you heard Chan moan the slightest bit. Like he was trying to conceal it.

“What was that?” You smirked, landing a larger, rougher slap to one side of his ass.

His face scrunched up before sucking in sharply.

“I didn’t hear you baby. What is it? Do you need more? You need more before I can even fucking hear you?!” Your words were forceful now. Challenging.

You violently shoved his hips down more so his ass was even more prominent. One after another, you began to plant harsh slaps until his cheeks were visibly more and more red. Loud moans now escaped his lips, growing in intensity with each smack.

Chan started panting heavily, letting out a small cry that only turned you on more.

“Fucking slut,” you muttered. “Like getting spanked by your own girlfriend? Like looking like a sloppy mess for me? Not even able to shut your fucking mouth and take it like a real man?” you taunted him. Hearing Chan’s cries getting louder and louder was all the confirmation you needed.

“Because you’re not, are you?” you chuckled, pulling your hands from him. You quickly pulled the strap on towards you to shimmy inside. You clicked the button to start the vibrator as you secured yourself in place.

“No, you’re not a real man…” you continued as you placed more lube into your hand. You tried to steady yourself as the new buzzing over your clit settled in, knocking you back the slightest bit. After regaining your footing, you went on.

“You’re just a tiny little hole who wants to be used, huh? Is that right?” You rubbed the lube along the length of the dildo strapped onto you. “You just wanna be used like the fucking slut you are?”

With that, you used one hand to place another solid smack over the redness that had already been formed, while using one lubed finger to push slightly into Chan’s asshole.

An auditory moan was heard as the wind was knocked out of him, feeling a sensation he’d never known was possible. You let him adjust slightly before pulling out and pushing back in.

Chan relaxed his arms and let his face hit the mattress as you continued with your finger in him, growing faster and faster by the second.

Tiny whines of pleasure worked their way out of Chan’s throat with every stroke. He began to move his hips along with the motion, throwing his ass backward so you could reach deeper inside him.

“Ahh fuck,” he mumbled as you kept going.

“Goddamn, already cursing for me? That’s not a good sign,” you tsked. “We’re just getting started,” you smiled. Deep panting was all you received in response.

“But the baby wants more, huh? Poor little baby,” you mocked. “You’re gonna get what you get then. And you better take it all without fucking complaining.”

Suddenly, you pulled out and brought a second finger to his hole, inserting them much quicker than you’d done with the first.

Underneath you, Chan gripped the bedsheets with his fists, settling with his mouth wide open and eyes rolled back, holding in any noise he possibly could.

“Ahhh, good boy. See, it isn’t that hard, is it?” you grinned again before beginning to ram your fingers into him quicker. You worked your way up, as fast as you could before curving your fingers into him.

With that, Chan couldn’t help himself. He let out the loudest, most ungodly moan you’d ever heard. Pure ecstasy in every last ounce of breath he put out. You could tell that he was doing all he could to not scream from the pleasure.

His reaction mixed with the tingly feeling that had washed over your clit by this point, got you to the level that you just couldn’t stand it anymore.

After giving him a few more pumps with curved fingers, you pulled out, running your hand along the shaft of the dildo again. He whimpered at the loss of contact, earning him another huge smack, essentially telling him to keep quiet.

“You still can’t shut the fuck up, can you? You like being degraded like this. I never knew my boyfriend was such a fucking whore.” Another slap.

“Now,” you continued, “we’re both gonna sit here until you start acting better and ask nicely for me to put this dick inside of you. And ask like you fucking mean it.”

Chan stilled for a moment, breathing heavily as if his brain was fogged over and he couldn’t comprehend what he needed to do. Slowly, he arched his back further, pushing his ass to the perfect angle. You both sat in silence for a few moments before soft words began to slur from Chan’s mouth.

“Please… will you fuck me?” he whispered timidly, his face the brightest shade of red.

“Maybe if you’d say it loud enough that I could FUCKING hear you!” you yelled, lining yourself up to him. You impatiently let the tip of the dildo circle around his outline. You brought your hands to his waist, grabbing onto him with the most force you could muster, taking him off guard.

Chan yelped loudly at the contact. “Please baby… PLEASE will you fuck me?” he cried out in desperation.

His pleas left you with a soft smile. “See, that wasn’t too hard now was it?” you excessively teased before pulling his waist back to force him down onto the dildo.

As quickly as it filled him, you felt it too. The insane increase in the vibration of the vibrator now rubbing up to the perfect spot on your clit. You let out a harsh moan at the feeling, enjoying this more than you’d thought possible.

“Ahh fuck baby,” you spat out, pulling your hips back before snapping them back in. The pressure was too good for you to handle.

All you could hear was Chris cursing under his breath and letting out the most guttural, obscene moans you’d ever heard. Like a symphony that had just died and been resurrected, unknown that life could take form like this.

He panted heavily, writhing in the sheets as you began to plow into him, faster and faster. Your hands gripped onto him so tightly that you were sure he’d have bruises. But that’s what you wanted. You needed him to slap into you as hard as possible. You needed to feel all of it.

“I’m not gonna-“ Chan tried to get out before pausing to let out a loud whine. “Fuck,” he cried, “I’m not gonna last much longer,” he admitted lowly, ashamed that he was already so close to being on the edge.

“Yes you are,” you smacked his ass again as you thrust in. You wrapped your arms swiftly around his waist to pull his torso upright. The dildo was still resting deep inside of him as his body came up, his back pressing into your chest. You squeezed him again, making sure he was pulled taunt to you before snaking a hand up to his throat.

“You are gonna last longer because I’m fucking telling you to. Is that clear? You’re not done until I cum. Stupid fucking whore,” you threatened, directly into his ear.

Your hips snapped up, not giving him a chance to answer. He could only let out the sweetest moan you’d ever heard.

As you began humping into him, you felt that prominent tingly feeling at your core. You knew if you kept this up, your orgasm would come sooner than you’d hoped. But you couldn’t stop pumping into him. It felt too fucking good. Your clit throbbed and your knees were about to give in, but nothing could hold you back now.

You grabbed Chan’s throat harder, squeezing it until you knew he’d have trouble getting steady breaths in and out. You used this as your vantage point to steady him as your other hand folded around his waist and down to his dick. You grabbed it into your hand quickly, not wasting any time.

He hissed as you began to quickly jerk him up and down while pounding into him, trying to focus on his breathing before giving in entirely.

You felt him clench down onto the dildo, putting more pressure onto it and the vibrator attached. You felt your inner thighs begin to twitch. Your own breathing began to falter out. You knew you needed to make the most of these last few moments.

“You are such a dirty fucking slut, you know that?” you whispered into his ear, licking it softly before turning his head toward you by his throat.

You connected your mouth to his, saliva going everywhere as you devoured him until the last second. Biting at him until you could taste blood. Choking him until he was gasping under you for air. Blood rushing to your head from the adrenaline and the sight of your boyfriend totally and completely at your mercy. Your bitch. Anything you wanted him to be.

You rammed his body down by his throat to push him into you harder, fucking into him with everything you had. Your hand was fast on his dick, working him up to the point that tears began to stream down his face.

“This is what you wanted,” you smiled, biting down on his shoulder. “Wanted to cry your fucking heart out to how good I could use you... Ahhh fuck,” you growled, the stimulation about to send you over.

“My sweet little baby Channie,” you whispered into his ear ever so lightly, placing one more kiss to it. So soft it was almost a tickle. You could taste the salty liquid that had spilled out of his eyes and had run across his face. Tears still coming down while your hand stifled his cries and moans.

“I know you want to cum,” you breathed out, fucking him with your hips and hand as fast as possible. “Cum for me baby. Let it all out,” you purred.

Suddenly, without your permission, your own body jolted, hitting your high. You began to convulse uncontrollably, sending shocks throughout your very core, leaving Chan with sporadic, trembling thrusts and shaky hands.

“Fuck Channie,” you cried, trying to ride out your own high, but almost passing out in the process. “Cum right fucking now. Right fucking now!” you yelled, not knowing if you’d be able to survive the overstimulation of fucking him any longer.

You let go of his throat long enough for him to take a deep gasp for air and cry out as he too began to shake around you. His limbs began to flail as his body gave out, screaming and crying as he lost control. Cum shot out of him with more force than it ever had, leaving his head spinning and mind completely numb.

Losing hold of him, he collapsed out of your arms, spasming the same as you as he tried to regain his sense of being.

You took a deep breath before falling next to him on the bed, heaving heavily until your breath came back to you. Chan was doing the same while covering his face with his hands, embarrassed again all of a sudden.

You gave him a moment to collect himself before leaning over to kiss his forehead and remove his hands. You placed a soft kiss to his nose while you held his hands in yours.

“How was it baby?” you smiled as you whispered.

“It was…” he contemplated finding the right word. “Insane,” he laughed, finally coming back to his normal self.

“Hopefully insane in a good way?” you cocked a brow toward him.

“Yes, in a good way.” He squeezed your hand before turning his head slightly to look up toward the ceiling, not making eye contact with you. He closed his eyes, chuckling to himself.

“You don’t really think I’m a ‘fucking slut’, do you?” he kept giggling, teasing the way you’d talked to him.

“Oh I do. I think you’re my fucking slut,” you lightheartedly winked. You brought your lips back to his as he smiled into the kiss, shaking his head back and forth.

“What am I gonna do with you now?” he laughed as he pulled back and brought you into his chest.

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tadpolesonalgae · 2 days

Text

Predator and Prey[***]

Dark!Rhys x reader

a/n: Okay, so, this isn’t ‘canon’ to the Desk Pet series, it’s more like it’s set in that universe but it’s a what-if scenario! Because I read this and wanted to write a little drabble for it!!!

warnings: uh, I think it turned into angst? It’s not written to be sad, but you might read it as sad? Um, anyway, Rhys doesn’t die, he’s fine, it just cuts off dramatically. Enjoy! :) (also, reference to past noncon, please be careful)

word count: 2,638

——————————————————————————————————————————————

Velaris.

The city of Starlight.

Home to the High Lord, and rumoured to be a haven for dreams.

A place to rest and recover, where the colours shone brighter and the air tasted crisper. Where sleep was no longer a restless resignation but settled over its citizens fully, a night to guarantee fresh minds in the morning, relieved of aching joins or a heaviness to their eyelids. Where even the sun shone brighter, and the moon appeared like a silver coin in the sky, starlight glittering like dewdrops on a cobweb caught in the early morning light.

And it was true—any occupant would gladly testify to Velaris’ strangely healing nature, the rare beauty that painted the streets colourful and full of life, that had the denizens struggling to remain in a foul mood for long, but then something strange happened. A small change that caused the eventual death of that wonder and healing safety. Few details were given, but it was clear something had happened. Something detrimental to the Court’s well-being.

And one by one, the stars began winking out.

It started with a curfew—no citizens were permitted to roam the streets past midnight, and were required to remain indoors until the sun broke across the horizon.

Then the darkness started to feel thicker; heavier. Gone were the clear nights; the twinkling stars. Instead they were replaced with cloying shadows, a tension that wound its way through the streets and scratched slowly at doors. Searching. Hunting.

Then at last came the beast itself.

No one had ever seen it, but to deny its presence would be pointless. They could all feel it, they had all noticed the weight that descended across the city, the clawing tension that tightened skin and had throats constricting. No one knew what would happen if they disobeyed the curfew, what would happen if they ventured out into the night to seek out the thing that had swallowed their beloved starlight whole.

Except you.

————

It’s been less than a month since you escaped his bruising touch, the sharp bite of his teeth.

Less than a month, and your body still aches with phantom pains that blister and swell as though his talons are still raking gently through your mind, plucking at your pain to keep you under his thumb.

The cool night air is like a balm to your skin, burning hot from anxiety as the clocktower strikes twelve, and the few lights that had been illuminated are snuffed out. You watch from the small attic window as the darkness unfurls, rising from the cobbles, giving the unshakable impression that it never truly leaves but rather temporarily sinks below the floorboards, just waiting to slink out and drag you down into the earth.

It’s why you’ve kept to sneaking into deserted attics rather that hiding out in garden sheds.

You don’t want him to be able to find you.

Just a few more days, that’s all you need, and you’ll be out of Velaris for good. You can worry about what you’ll do after once you’re out, for now you just need to make it past that last house.

You’ve managed to scout out a couple nearby and have picked the one you’ll stay in for your last night. Then first thing in the morning you’ll be free. As soon as the sun breaks over the horizon, you’ll run and never look back.

————

Your heart is pounding in your chest, wild and alive as you spring through the undergrowth, bag on your back weighed with enough to keep you going healthily for a day or two, but you’re out!

The air tastes different, clearer and purer. Even the ground feels different, more secure in some way and you’re struck with the urge to remove your shoes and feel the grass beneath your bare soles. It’s been so long since you’ve been out in the woods that shroud the outskirts of the city, and emotion swells in your chest.

But you don’t have time for that yet. You’re onto your next task, escaping the court as a whole.

You’re familiar with the territory—maps were easy to locate in his study, and easier still to pluck from a draw before leaving.

As far as you can tell you have three options that you’ve been running through ever since you made it into that last house. Option one would be the swiftest escape but also the most likely to get you caught: escaping by sea. Velaris isn’t far from the coast and you could likely make it on foot in a day and a half if you pushed yourself, but the docks would be busy and you don’t doubt he’ll be keeping an eye on them. And with his daemati powers you’d be easily recognisable to anyone he’s commanded to pull you from the ships on sight.

Option two is to make your way southeast down to the Day Court boarders. Once you’ve crossed, safety won’t be assured but you’ll be a hell of a lot more protected than remaining in his territory. But it will take time and you aren’t sure you can afford to risk such delayed escape. It won’t be long before he begins searching further than Velaris, and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to sneak into houses unfamiliar to you which would mean being outside overnight, which will guarantee your capture.

Option three: you remain in the Night Court and hope for him to grow bored or restless. Wait for him to make a move and reveal his cards. The last option and least favourable, one you’d only pick if the first two were ruled out for some reason. It’s a last resort—you don’t want to spend a second longer in his territory more than you absolutely must.

Of the three, the safest would probably be to trail down the coast for the swiftest path but it’s true he might predict that, in which case you should muddle your route—keep more inland and go that way, stopping from town to town and slowly making your route South.

Yes, that has to be the right choice.

————

He hears the voices around him but is paying no attention to their flurried chatter, useless and completely unaware of the real problems, concerned only with menial issues that will solve nothing important.

His violet eyes are blank as usual, expression cold and unreadable as the meeting proceeds, watching from somewhere far behind his eyes as mouths move, hands raise in gestures of outrage and demand, postures folded into defensive positions when they’re targeted. His mood darkens—how they manage to occupy themselves so fervently, how they manage to swell such unseemly waves of emotion over such meaningless topics, it’s waring his temper dangerously thin.

It’s been nearly a month since she disappeared from his life, vanishing from the house he’d kept for her and running out into the night. He still remembers the strange emptiness he’d felt when he’d returned, tired and worn out, seeking nothing more than to fall into bed with her. Nothing more than to inhale her scent again, to feel the soft shape of her body as it slots against his own, hear the quiet noises of her breath as she tries to keep it from hitching whenever he reaches for her. The tinge of fear in her scent whenever he approaches, or the flash of terror then rage that passes behind her eyes so swiftly it leaves him slightly breathless.

He had thought she was warming up to him. That the lack of protest had been promising, and that the steady disappearance of resistance had meant she was beginning to forget. And he had responded to that by granting her more freedom—not much, but she had access to the gardens—and being that small bit less forceful in his touch.

Resurfacing into the current reality, the voices swarm at his mind, loud and grunting as they argue themselves in circles.

He had been close last night, had caught her scent on the ledge of a window near the outskirts of his city, but it had been faint and days old. She will have likely made it out into the forests by now.

Darkness unspools across the floor, his mood seeping into the room as tension spreads itself across the table, tightening around the council’s throats.

He needs to find her soon. For her to be out in the woods, alone and near nightfall. If something happens to her…

The faelights fail, flicking softly before they wink out, and the chamber falls into silence as the absent darkness at last finishes plying the life from their bodies, at last allowing silence to settle.

————

The boarder isn’t far now, but your heart is pounding so hard from running you’re worried he’ll be able to hear it in the few seconds it takes to inhale.

He’s much too close for your liking, and one wrong move…

He’s relentless in this hunt, stalking your steps as he prowls after your scent, tracking you how he’d been raised to, following the signs you’re unable to hide in the spare moments your magic deactivates. You’re lucky you’d had no reason to use it after Amarantha’s fall.

It’s been a while since you’ve handled it, but you can temporarily go invisible to hide yourself from sight. A handy trick certainly, but it wouldn’t be enough to get past him on its own. Which is why you’re thankful for its one step further.

For the duration you can hold your breath, it’s as if you don’t exist. You can run through the brush, step on as many twigs as you like and no one will hear. Can sidle up to birds and other creatures without them even noticing you. Even your scent is covered. Were it not for this, you wouldn’t have stood a chance of escaping.

And yet between those breaths when you resurface into reality, he’s able to sense you. An acute awareness he’s pinned onto you that alerts him of your movements in those bare seconds.

The darkness swarms to the position you’d been not even a minute before, and your heart stops when you spot the silhouette that’s prowling through the shadow. Tall and intimidating, perfectly cut lines stark against the inky blue of the night sky, able to make out the locks of blue-black hair that glint like raven’s feathers beneath the sliver of moonlight.

Terror filters through your blood as he calls your name, pausing at the foot of the tree you’d been at, glancing at the ground before his violet eyes skim the surrounding area.

Nails dig into your palms when his attention pauses on you, watching the darkness between the trees that you’re hidden in, brows narrowing ever so slightly.

It’s impossible. There’s no way for him to know where you are. Your scent is covered, and noise you make is absolutely annulled, your presence itself entirely smothered, so how?

You don’t waste time considering it—how sharp his senses must be—keeping your breath held as you dart away, running for your life through the darkness of the woods. The boarder of Day is still far off, there’s no way you’ll be able to reach it before the sun rises.

He’s going to find you.

He’s going to take you back.

Your lungs are burning, and you’re forced to yield another gasping breath before returning into that invisible pocket that’s keeping you separate from him.

In that one second you feel as he shifts, the immensity of his power concentrating to the space not even three steps behind you, and your legs fumble, giving out from terror at how close he’d come.

You flip onto your back, scrambling away, heart pounding as he stands there, violet eyes practically glowing in the dark as he scans the surrounding area.

You aren’t going to escape. He’ll find you with the next breath.

Your heart stutters, pulse spiking as your trembling fingers brush the hilt of the blade at your side.

At a normal pace you can last about four minutes, five if you’re patient and concentrating. Now, with the panic set in, the wild flutter of your pulse, you have a minute and a half. Two at most. One-hundred and twenty seconds to figure out what to do with the blade at your side and the male stood before you, blessedly unaware that you’re crumpled on the floor two strides from his feet.

It’s simple once you think about it.

You have a blade, and he’s unable to sense you.

You can kill him. Or at least incapacitate him.

The realisation shocks through you, hands tightening around the hilt of the blade, banishing the tremble from your fingertips as you shakily get to your feet, standing before him as violet eyes search for a hint of your presence.

Again your heart stutters as he somehow looks straight at you, watching the space exactly before him that, to all of his senses, should be empty. And yet.

You look at him silently, blade grasped tightly in your hands, and you can imagine how it will feel to slide the steel up through his ribs. Even if he is High Lord, even if it’s Illyrian steel and not ash, it will be enough.

His brows narrow almost imperceptibly, hands removing themselves from his pockets and your stomach clenches as he takes a step forward.

It’s all you need to get you moving, your feet shoving against the ground as you run at him, pulling the blade back, allowing the breath to slip past your lips as you inhale sharply to give your muscles the air they need to stab the blade up into his chest.

Violet eyes go wide as you appear before him, moonlight glinting on steel a fraction of a moment before it cuts clean into him, sliding through his ribs and piercing his heart. Your lip is curled, hands shaking around the hilt, fingers trembling where blood is dripping down, features twisted into an expression of frightening fury.

Has he done that to you?

The momentum combined with the agonising pain knocks him back, your own strength so focused on forcing the blade as deep into his rotted heart as you can that your legs give out with him, bodies falling together, crushing into the ground as his arms wrap around you.

Disgust crawls across your skin and you think you might be sick, but you keep one hand wrapped around the hilt of the blade, meeting his horrifically familiar violet gaze as you manage to twist the steel in his chest. His features contort in pain, hot liquid burning against your palm as it saturates through the fine material of his clothes, sinking into your sleeves.

Breath pants from his lips as he tries to steady his breathing, and you brace for whatever fury he’ll unleash upon you, already making to inhale again in order to escape, but his arm has wrapped around the base of your spine, his palm cupping your jaw so he can look at you. Violet seems to almost shudder, and you can hear the frantic pulse of his heart, skin already paler than seconds before.

You freeze beneath that look, body paralysed at the familiar softness to his irises. How he’d look at you before…everything.

Blood pushes from between his lips, colouring his teeth a raw red as life leaks from the wound you’ve made and it looks like he’s trying to speak.

His hand slides from your cheek to the back of your head, settling gently down as he pulls you to his chest, a look like relief on his pained features.

“You’re back,” he breathes, fingers stroking across your hair. “You’re back.”

——————————————————————————————————————————————

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria

rhys taglist: @azrielshadows1nger

#dark!rhysand x reader #desk pet series #dark!rhysand #dark!rhys x you #predator and prey

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yoonivy · 2 days

Text

gold rush; part 5.

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

genre. romantic comedy — inspired by 10 things i hate about you and also another movie (can you guess which one? :) ) , college/university au, smut, enemies to lovers (kinda??? their relationship is complicated to explain LOL)

In all the 8 years you’ve known Aemond Targaryen, he has not spoken more than 8 words to you. In total. So why is he starting now?

warnings. ramsay, aegon, and their friends. deepthroating.

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07

---

One night turns it into two and then three… and before Aemond knows it, three weeks have gone by and he still hasn’t told you what he should have told you weeks ago.

(Or the thing that shouldn’t have even been a plan in the first place.)

It’s part selfishness of not wanting to lose you, and cowardice — also for not wanting to lose you.

In his mind, the plan is already called off. If people get pissed off at him then that’s fine. All he knows is he is not going to do that to you. Not anymore.

Besides, the plan was idiotic anyway. Aegon came up with it, so that tells you everything you need to know. The only reason Aemond got roped into it was because nobody thought Aegon could successfully court you to get even a single date.

Now Aemond is glad he got convinced to carry out the plan instead because the thought of you with his older brother now makes him sick. Especially when he thinks about the text his brother had wrote in the family group chat last night that he had ignored but can’t get out of his head:

Aegon

— aemond is taking too long with the plan 😫

— maybe I should take over

— didn’t ____ have a crush on me before?

Daeron

— IJBOOOOOOOOL 😶🌫️

He ignored the messages, not bothering to reply, but that doesn’t mean that what Aegon had said hasn’t been running around his head all night long.

You used to have a crush on Aegon?! When was that?!

It’s impossible, a total fabrication and defamation of your character!

But still… it could be possible.

Aemond is not completely blind to see that his older brother is pretty popular with women (especially those who don’t know him beyond his looks) , and growing up, he has had many classmates who had feelings for his brother (some even shameless enough to ask him if his brother was seeing anyone) — but to think that you would have fallen for his brother’s trickery and deceit even if it was just a stupid teenage crush?

It makes Aemond want to empty out the content of his stomach.

Which is not much. Just coffee, black. Forgoing breakfast as he is currently waiting for you outside your apartment building to get brunch together.

As he waits, he ruminates, trying to recall any indication of his brother’s statement as true. The more he combs through his memories, the more bothered he gets because can’t recall any. And not because there isn’t a moment that it might be possible (as much as he hopelessly wishes this was the case) but it’s because he never bothered to care or observe anything you did in the past so his memory is coming up empty.

So what if you did used to harbor a crush on Aegon?

The thought makes Aemond ill.

“Morning sunshine—-!” Your cheerful exclamation is immediately halted by the look of your boyfriend’s face when you get a good look at him. Still handsome like always but he seems to be unhappy. And rest assured, you can now tell the difference between his resting bitch face or if he is actually in a foul mood by now.

You place a delicate hand on his upper arm, expression full of concern. “Hey, you okay?”

Aemond focuses in on you — on your pretty face that he has grown so truly fond of. The one face that he wants to see everyday and if he doesn’t, it would just automatically be a mundane or terrible day. The sight of you leaves him breathless, he nods slow, distracted.

Then he bends to ravish your mouth. Needy. His fingers digging into your hips to pull you closer. Possessive.

It’s a lot for eleven in the morning — not that you’re complaining!

“Wow… good morning to me,” you say with a cheeky smirk when you pull away. Aemond seems brighter too, smiling softly as he looks down at you.

It seems that whatever he was thinking about before you came is completely forgotten now.

“So, where are we going?” You ask once in his car, pulling on the passenger seatbelt.

“It’s this place that just opened,” he tells you, his eye on the road. “Helaena recommends it; their only other location is in King’s Landing and she goes nearly every week.”

“Oooh!” You perk up in your seat. “I trust Helaena’s taste so I’m excited!”

Aemond grins, then hears the telltale sound coming from his speaker that lets him know that someone connected to it via Bluetooth.

“Also, I heard this song last night and thought of you,” you say just as a sweet melody starts to play.

I’ve never known someone like you,

Tangled and lovestuck by you

From the glue

Aemond tries to bite down his growing smile as he takes in the lyrics. But when you flash your pretty smile his way, he cannot help but return it.

Because it’s you.

And that’s just how he is now.

Crazy about you.

Guess I’m stuck forever on the glue

—- oh, and you…

---

By the time you arrive at your destination, there is already a long line wrapping around the corner of the street to get into the new brunch place.

You shoot a worried look towards Aemond — both brows rising as your eyes comically widen — but all Aemond does in response is smirk, cool and collected.

He meets you at your side of the car, opens the door like a gentleman and offers out his hand for you to hold. You take it as you step out, and you walk hand in hand with Aemond leading you past the long line of people and all the way to the entrance.

You are a bit confused, seeing as how while you were looking at the menu on your phone during the drive, it said that there are no reservations and it’s first come, first serve.

Before you can question it, he tells the hostess by the door his name and she greets the two of you with a warm smile and then calls someone from inside to show you to your seat.

Guess this is one of the perks of being wealthy or having a recognizable name.

“Helaena is friends with the chef so she got us a table,” Aemond explains when he notices your curious expression on him.

Ah… makes sense.

You hear disgruntled murmurings behind you while you walk in with your boyfriend.

You recall times that you were in their shoes — watching glitzy and clearly very wealthy stride in places with or even without reservations while you were waiting for hours . But now that you’re with Aemond… your back straightens, holding your head high as you try not to feel like an imposter in your $14.99 thrifted dress.

Then — as if feeling your slightly anxious energy — Aemond squeezes your hand and looks back with a sweet smile, leaning into your ear and murmurs you’re gorgeous.

Your knees almost buckle, feeling like you’re both melting on the spot and drifting up to the heavens.

With your free hand, you grab onto his arm, the same one holding your hand, and nuzzle up closely to him with a gleeful grin rounding your cheeks.

“We have two tables for you to choose from, Sir,” the host says, leading you and Aemond through the fully occupied restaurant. “There’s one at our outdoor patio on the roof, or—“

“Oh, Mondy~!”

Aemond stiffens at the sound of the voice, his hand clutching yours tighter. Still, he doesn’t dare look, and even somewhat turns away to seemingly block out and pretend he had not heard what he surely had heard and keeps walking. But you, on the other hand, slow your steps to peer around him curiously.

What you see is his older brother, Aegon, sitting at a table, twiddling his fingers at the two of you with a strange and sickeningly sweet grin on his face. You stop — causing Aemond to do so as well, but not without the most frustrated and heaviest sigh — and you wave back slowly.

“What a coinkydink!” Aegon exclaims, hands clapping together as he stands up and makes his way over. “Such a wonderful surprise!”

Aemond grimaces, knowing it was anything but. Helaena had accidentally messaged the groupchat with his siblings to ask about the time when he wanted to arrive at the restaurant, so he is pretty sure Aegon just bothered her to put his name on the list as well.

“And ____, you are looking absolutely gorgeous — as always.”

Aemond’s grimace twists into a furious deep seated scowl when Aegon steps up and throws his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder, yanking you towards him that you essentially had to drop Aemond’s hand from the shock of it with a soft oh falling from your lips.

“C’mon! Join us!” Aegon exclaims, gesturing towards his table where their cousin, Vis, and the Cargyll twins were sitting. He snaps his fingers towards the host, an order to grab another chair for the table.

Without allowing either you or Aemond to accept or decline on the idea, Aegon sits you down on the chair beside his. When Aemond tries to sit down on the empty seat right across from yours, Aegon shakes his head and points to the new seat at the head of the table — the one furthest away from you.

Aemond opens his mouth to question and protest, but Aegon beats him to it, “that seat’s taken.”

Eyeing the leather bomber jacket thrown haphazardly on the seat, Aemond sighs in defeat and begrudgingly drops down on the one forcefully assigned to him.

You make eye contact with your boyfriend, offering a tight smile as you notice his completely neutral expression before taking a hold of the menu to glance through, hiding the way you bite down your disappointment. You guess he is fine with this. So even though you had been anticipating this date with Aemond, to spend some quality time with just him, this is the least you could do for him. Aemond has been integrated into your friend group, it’s only fair for you to get to know his.

Unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend’s carefully calm expression is just his way of staying calm. Really, he desperately wants to throttle his older brother. This is the last thing he wanted.

The cherry that tops the shit cake arrives when the person who had reserved the seat across from you finally comes back from wherever he had been hiding. From one of the layers of Hell, probably.

“This beautiful day just keeps getting better and better!” Ramsay exclaims by way of announcing himself when he gets to the table.

You are visibly disgusted when he crowds your space to hug you, smelling strongly of cigarette smoke. You push him away when he doesn’t let go of you quick enough. All the bastard does is chuckle, like it’s so amusing how put off you are of him.

Straightening up, Ramsay offers Aemond a shit-eating grin and a nod. “How’re you doing there, bloke?”

Aemond couldn’t hide his feelings anymore — especially after witnessing Ramsay’s dirty hands on you, even if it just barely grazed your back — now openly seething, his nostrils flared.

“Great,” Aemond fumes, tone flat and discontent. “Just wonderful .”

There’s an infuriating comment at the tip of Ramsay’s mouth, but thankfully, the waiter arrives to pour you and Aemond water and to take orders.

The guys barely looked at the menu, ordering whatever they fancy. (“Mimosa,” Vis tuts, without even acknowledging the waiter. “And hold the orange juice.”) Meanwhile, you calculate in your head the total of your order before politely asking the waiter for a stack of buttermilk pancakes ($23, the cheapest on the menu) with strawberry compote (an extra $5) and a glass of mimosa ($17) as well — to treat yourself, and because you know you’ll probably need it to make it through this brunch with Ramsay. This means you probably have to scavenge through your fridge for leftovers for the next few days until you get paid but it’s fine.

After the twins introduce themselves to you, Vis directs the conversation to something that you guess they had been discussing before you and Aemond had arrived, seeing it sounded like his point was a continuation of a previous thought. Although listening intently, you don’t contribute to the conversation, only half understanding what was being said. Aemond, on the other hand, easily comprehends the subject of discussion and adds in his opinion.

Leaning towards him as you tuck your hand under your chin, you hang onto every word that comes out of Aemond’s mouth. You can admit, Aemond can be a little pretentious at times (okay, perhaps more than sometimes), but maybe it’s because you adore him that he sounds highly intelligent and, let’s be real, fucking hot.

But what Aemond said clearly pissed Vis off, opposing his opinion. The latter scoffs, face going sour.

While the food starts to be brought to the table, Vis turns towards you. “What do you think about it?”

You don’t even realize he was speaking to you until he calls your name. You shake away your dreamy gaze of your boyfriend to glance questioningly at his cousin. He repeats himself with a vapid curl of his lips.

After quickly acknowledging the staff who places your plate in front of you with a sweet smile and soft thank you, you think about how to reply. You like to think you are well read and also quite politically inclined (with Robb, Margaery and Meera as your best friends, it’s hard not to be), but you are not someone who spouts off things without being educated about it. And this — a certain trade route closing and the economic impact because of it — you are definitely not educated about. You do know about the conflict in the southern countries of Essos and economic crises there because of said conflict – but you hadn’t realized it affected Westeros as well. But perhaps you should have, knowing that some Westeros countries and politicians are the reason for the further destabilization in many Essos countries.

Choosing your words carefully, you tell them exactly just that. You think your response was sound and good, sitting up straighter as you notice the glint in your boyfriend’s eye.

That is until Vis chuckles meanly and snarks, “You shouldn’t have said anything at all if it was going to end with no substance.”

Your stomach drops as you meet Vis’ challenging stare.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur meekly. “I guess you’re right…”

“I think what you said was perfectly fine,” Aemond tries to defend you, frustration dripping in his words.

“ Awww… don’t be so harsh on her, Vis,” Ramsay coos with an exaggerated pout. “She’s a Creative Writing major.”

The whole table laughs at that, save for you and Aemond.

“Genuinely curious, what are you going to do with a degree like that?” One of the twins speaks up. Erryk, you think, the one with the longer hair.

You try to force a smile as you try to disregard the judgment in his question, your spirit lifting up slightly as you talk about something you are passionate about. “I would like to get my words out there. Publish a few books. Do some live performances…”

“What do you write?” Arryk asks.

“Oh, um, poetry!”

That earns a couple snorts and snickers. Inhaling deeply, your smile wavers, but you manage to keep it on.

“And if that doesn’t work out?” Arryk continues his line of questioning. “What are you going to do then…? Teach english? ”

He says it like it’s an unworthy cause, but you think of Professor Seaworth and how much you admire him. “I mean, I wouldn’t oppose it.”

“I’m sure it will work out. She’s wonderful at what she does and has such a beautiful way with words,” Aemond adds, and your heart swells, smiling gratefully at him. “She even has a few of her pieces published already.”

“Where?” Vis asks, skeptical.

Aemond proudly names all the publications that featured your work. You're surprised he knows them off by heart.

“No one reads any of that,” Vis says with a roll of his eyes and Aemond’s hand tightens into a white knuckled fist. Your own sets down the fork you were just about to bring up to your mouth, your bleary eyes stay trained on your plate. You are not feeling very hungry anymore.

Meanwhile, Aegon is already on his phone and pulling up one of your work.

Without any prompting, Aegon begins to dramatically read one of your poems out loud, and the guys laugh after every line. You confess, it’s not your best work out there, but — did they really have to do this and laugh in your face?

“I don’t know why you’re all laughing — it’s better than anything you tossers have said in your entire life,” Aemond says.

Vis puffs out a breath. “Oh, please… it’s juvenile.”

At this point, you feel like you are closing off, hardly really hearing anything anymore. It’s as if your mind is trying to save you from the humiliation. You don’t understand why they are targeting you so cruelly. Did you say something that made them dislike you so much?

It’s so baffling that you couldn’t even stand up for yourself when you usually would. You just sit there, mute.

“It’s on par with his ex-girlfriend’s lyrics about him,” Ramsay comments gleefully. The others laugh and exclaim in agreement.

“No offense,” Arryk begins, glancing towards you as he says your name. “You seem like a lovely girl and all, but I’m surprised Aemond’s dating you—”

“What the fuck are you saying?” Aemond snarls.

“I’m just saying …!” Arryk throws his palms up defensively, shrugging his shoulders. “The last girl you dated was Myrcella Baratheon —”

… As in Luvie? The popstar?!

You throw a questioning look at Aemond but his glare is set on Arryk, looking like he is about to pounce.

“I think what my brother is trying to say is that it’s quite a — I don’t want to say it but… a downgrade , you know?” Erryk slides in. Then to you, he quickly adds, “Not to say that you’re a downgrade, but just — you know Aemond. He’s very arrogant and particular—”

“Stop talking,” Aemond demands. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“See, sweetheart,” Ramsay smirks at you, playfully nudging your foot under the table. “This is why I never introduced you to any of them when we were dating. They’re assholes . Your sweet, little heart doesn’t deserve this.”

Aegon throws his arm around your shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t be offended, babe. It’s not that serious. This is just how we are! If anything, all this jest shows how much we like you! You’re practically part of the family now!”

You could not even bother to shrug Aegon off you. You just smile tightly at him, wondering if he is right. Your friends do joke around like this — but never to this hurtful extent. Are you just too soft for all of this?

Suddenly a loud screech resounds in the room of metal against the flooring, causing the whole group (and some of the other surrounding patrons) to shut up and turn to witness Aemond standing up in a breakneck speed, both his palms pressed on the table. Your mouth parts in a silent gasp when you notice how tight his body seems to be with tension, his whole demeanor dour and rigid.

Aemond flashes his vicious gaze at his older brother, flicking between Aegon’s widened eyes and where his hand is touching your shoulder.

“Get. Your. Hand. Off. Her.” Aemond coldly instructs.

Aegon laughs, albeit nervously. “Calm down, Mondy,”

Still, he follows his younger brother’s order and hastily slips his arm away from you. “We’re just joking around! The twins share a single brain cell between them. Vis has a flair for dramatics and is a debate pervert. And Ramsay is, well… Ramsay!” He takes a quick glance at the man he just spoke about. “No offense, mate.”

Ramsay’s blue eyes roll while he mutters a whatever.

But their exchange is lost on you, your attention is solely captured by Aemond, holding himself in such a tall and regal manner, still standing there as if waiting for a more opportune moment to speak up.

The time comes when the guys realize he hasn’t sat back down, and they all gaze up to where he stands at the end of the table. Aemond visibly unnerves them by how deathly silent he is and by the way his lips start to curl into a disconcerting smirk — the boys exchanging looks of concern amongst themselves. Then, even more so, when they notice his violet eye stare straight ahead as he begins to speak, “It seems that for once in your life, Aegon, you’re right.”

Aemond’s tone is a little too calm, but in a way that you know it is taking everything in him to level his voice that evenly.

“ ____ and I are unfortunate enough to find ourselves amongst clowns on what should have been a beautiful morning.”

The boys throw in their objects and varied choices of what the fuck? but Aemond ignores them, continuing in slow drawl, “I mean, take Vis for example. The only reason you care to learn about the state of the economy and the trading route is so you can have something to blame for your own failing businesses. Oh, excuse me, let me correct myself — failed businesses. How many of them have you had to file for bankruptcy again?”

Vis doesn’t answer, his expression just twists in contempt. So Aemond answers his own question, “It was all five, wasn’t it?”

Unable to help himself, Aegon chokes on a cough to cover up a laugh that just bursts out.

“Now, Arryk—” Aemond sharply glances sideways to the shorter-haired twin, then snaps to the other, “Erryk—” then back straight ahead, “Neither of you should be so comfortable about asking someone whether they are taking the right path to a successful future. Because if you ask me , what the two of you have dedicated your whole life for does not look to be working out. Not when you two are on the starting line-up of the university’s hockey team that has been on a three season losing streak, and will most likely stay that way as long as the two of you are on the team.”

The twins have never looked so identical until this very moment. Their tense jaws roll while they both scoff at the same time.

Knowing that he is probably next on the chopping block, Ramsay sits back coolly as he folds his arms across his chest, chewing obnoxiously on a piece of steak with a smirk. “Do your worst, mate. I’ve already heard it all from my father.”

Aemond lets out a humourless chuckle, head dipping in a nod to agree with him. “You’re probably right. But your father doesn’t even know the worst of it, does he? That you spend his hard earned money to buy yourself a recording contract, radioplay, and bots to boost your band’s social media engagement, and still your band has nothing to show for it. The only song people like of yours is the one with my girlfriend’s lyrics, and yet you were laughing at her poem earlier?”

You blink blankly at what Aemond just said. “What do you mean my lyrics ?”

You’ve never, ever written anything for Ramsay.

Aemond tilts his head at you with adorable confusion, his expressive brows drawing together.

“Your poem ‘bad astrology’ is also the lyrics for his song…”

Then it dawns on him the same time it does to you —

“You stole my work?!”

“You didn’t get her permission?!”

Ramsay’s eye twitches as his mouth flops open and close like a fish out of water. But he recovers quickly, his mouth stretching into its usual smarmy smirk. “Come on, babe, don’t be like that! You don’t remember letting me use your poem?”

This is what he is going with? Gaslighting?

You let out a brief laugh of disbelief, a glare that could kill aimed right at Ramsay.

“First of all, don’t call me babe, or sweetheart, or anything like that ever again, you — you disgusting worm! And second — are you stupid ? I would never let you use my words for your shitty ass band! Why would I ever want to be associated with that ?”

Angered now, Ramsay spits out, “I seem to recall that you loved being associated with my bed, sl—“

“Don’t you dare talk to her like that,” Aemond sneers, slamming his hand on the table. “You—”

Aemond stops himself when he sees the look on your face.

The ire. The frustration. The mortification.

It’s not worth it, he thinks. As much as he wants to humiliate Ramsay further, Aemond needs to get you out of the situation — now.

You are his priority.

Aemond grabs his wallet out of his pocket and throws a couple hundred bills on the table, addressing the table, “You’re all a bunch of right sodding pricks.”

Then he rounds the table where you are and offers his hand out for you.

You take it quickly with a tight squeeze and a watery smile up at your boyfriend, and then the two of you are off.

Although the mood is beyond ruined, Aegon grins at his newly humbled friends, leaning across the table to snatch the money Aemond had graciously gave.

“Well, that was fun!”

---

As soon as the two of you step out onto the sidewalk, Aemond has you wrapped around his arms.

“I’m so sorry,” he says to you softly. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“‘S not your fault,” your voice is muffled, face buried into his chest. You’re not crying, at least not yet. You don’t want to either, none of them are worth your tears.

You pull away slightly, your fingers still gripping on the lapels of Aemond’s coat as you glance up at him. “Thank you for standing up for me.”

“Don’t thank me,” Aemond’s voice breaks a little, his heart breaking from the tears rimming around your sad eyes. “I should have—” He sucks in a breath, shaking his head, disappointed in himself. “I should have done more.”

Then his gaze is on you again, remorse heavy in that violet eye. “If I had known that Ramsay had stolen your poetry, I would have told you. You know that, right?”

“I know, don’t worry,” you frown, still grasping with the fact that one of your favorite piece of writing is somewhere out there, in some shitty acid metal rock song. “At least I know now…”

Aemond glances back at the restaurant, his hand closing into a fist. He wants to go back in there and wipe that infuriating smirk off of Ramsay’s face forever.

“Hey, look at me,” with your hand on his face, you bring his attention back on you. “I want to forget about everything that just happened, okay? I don’t care about any of them in there, I just care about you. I don’t want them to ruin this beautiful day that I was supposed to spend with you, Aemond.”

Because of the softness of you and your words, the tension that had overtaken Aemond finally dissipates. Relaxing from your touch.

“The day isn’t over yet,” he reminds you, allowing a small smile to spread on his lips.

You shake your head, returning his smile with a tiny one of your own. His head turns slightly to kiss your inner wrist. So comforting and sweet. “It’s not.”

Letting your hand fall from his face, you intertwine it with his hand instead.

“I’m pretty sure there’s some sort of promotion at Hot Pies this weekend,” you let him know about the diner close by campus that you and your friends (and now Aemond as well) are regulars at. “Bottomless hot chocolate.”

“Bottomless… hot chocolate ?”

You nod eagerly, an excited grin lighting up your face, making Aemond laugh fondly.

“Well, we can’t miss that.”

“Nope! No, we can’t!”

His smiling lips pressed onto yours before he turns to go. But just when he pulls your hand to lead back to his car, you pull back, causing him to pause to glance back at you, puzzled.

You are not looking at him — not into his eye, anyway. Your gaze is downcast, on where your hand is intertwined with his.

“Did you mean it…” you begin softly, uncharacteristically bashful. “... that you like my stuff?”

This time, it is Aemond’s turn to ease your mind.

Without a word, he shows you his phone screen. A habit he learned from you and your friends. Whether it’s to let him see a stupid TikTok, a funny text, or funny meme; you and your friends are notorious for sharing your screen. Aemond has a feeling that you all know each other’s lock screen passcode.

Brows drawing together in confusion, you blink prettily between him and his phone. Aemond grins, urging you to look with a nod of his head.

Your gaze narrows at him, confused and suspicious yet piqued, and so you take the phone from his hand.

On the screen, he has his phone gallery pulled up, in a folder titled: ___’s poems.

And that’s exactly what it was, a folder full of your poetry, screenshots from the different websites, social medias, and publications you had posted them on. You press on the latest one, and it’s dated back to two weeks ago. You scroll through and notice that each one had been favorited, indicated by the tiny white heart on the corner. The oldest picture was saved on the day you competed in the slam poetry contest.

“Aemond… what is this?” You ask, sniffing from the cold and perhaps something else.

Pulling his favorite scarf off his neck, your boyfriend takes a step closer towards you with the prettiest smile that makes your heart feel all warm.

“After watching you perform your poetry at the competition, I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you on that stage,” You listen to his soft voice while you watch with him with watery eyes as he gingerly and tenderly starts to wrap the soft cashmere around you. “Your way with words is so captivating. They made me think, they made me feel, they made me see the world in a different lens. A better lens — one that is beautiful yet sometimes melancholic, but always so heartfelt and true. it’s just so…” Now that you are warmly bundled up by his doing, Aemond cradles your face in his hands and murmurs through his breathtaking smile, “ You .”

And then he is pressing a kiss on your lips that has you feeling faint, swooning like a lead actress in an old time movie.

You part away from each other, but you lay your hand over his on your cheek to keep it there. Keep him close. After what happened and what he just told you, you feel so safe with him.

“I…” he trails off as soon as he started, bashful all of the sudden.

“What?” You question teasingly, a grin spreading on your lips as you notice the blush spreading on his cheeks. Knees bending and head tilting at an uncomfortable angle, you try to annoy him further, “Aemond, tell me . Tell me!”

He presses his lips together, as if regretting even opening his mouth in the first place. But then you look up at him with those eyes of yours and he can’t deny you.

“I reread your poems whenever I’m missing you.”

“…oh,” you say, straightening up slowly, face not betraying anything. Completely cool and perfectly chill.

But your heart?

Oh, it’s down bad . Downright horrendous. Absolutely helpless at this point.

“I—“ you stop yourself, giggling nervously. Oh Gods, you almost said it.

You feel it. You know you do. It’s undeniable at this point.

But you want the first time you say it to be perfect.

So instead you lean up to kiss his cheek, murmuring in his ear, “Thank you.”

Aemond turns his face, quickly capturing your lips before you could pull away. It catches you completely by surprise, but it was a nice one, judging by the way you hum happily as you nuzzle deeper into the kiss, your dainty fingers grasping onto his biceps. Hands on your waist, Aemond pulls you closer, but when he does, he feels your stomach rumbling — even through your peacoat.

“Let’s get you something to eat, pretty girl,” Aemond says, laughing when you peck his lips two, three — or five — more times when he tries to pull away. He returns your sweet kisses one last time with a cheeky smile and then he takes your hand.

Aemond tries to lead you to his car. But again, you stay rooted in your spot, tugging him back to you. Concerned, Aemond searches the way you are looking at him, eyes clear and curious, playful almost – unlike how it was watery and sad like it was before. Relief floods through him, and so he waits for you to speak.

“ So , um…” You play with his hand, just beating around the bush. He tilts his head in confusion, so you just come out with it, “You dated… Luvie ?”

Glancing away from you, Aemond squints at the sky, clearing his throat gracelessly. “Well… yes . Sort of, kind of… It was barely anything, actually.”

“What?! Are you serious?! You have to tell me everything !” You exclaim in awe. How could your boyfriend keep this from you?! “How’d you two meet? Who asked who out first? What ... actually, don’t tell me everything . I don’t, you know, want all the gory details of you two… doing things…”

While you rambled, your boyfriend successfully got you into his car.

“We didn’t!”

“Uh-huh, okay. You dated Pop Base’s Hottest Woman of the Year and you didn’t do anything, mhm … So start talking, Aemond Targaryen.”

“Can we at least wait until we get to the diner? I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

“Fine… You better — but wait… does this mean you know Jacob Elordi? They’re best friends, you know! You should introduce me to him if you do…”

“Why do you want to be introduced to Jacob…?”

“ Huh. First name basis… I see… And no reason… no reason at all…”

“That face you’re making is adorable but I don’t trust it.”

“Don’t worry, silly . You’re still my number one crush… Jacob’s just my number two… minus point five. ”

“What?”

“Whooo! Bottomless hot chocolate!”

Aemond joyfully laughs at your attempt to switch the subject, glancing over at you with so much fondness.

You turn on Luvie’s Why to get a rise out of him, but as he listens to the lyrics, he finds himself bopping his head along with the music while thinking about you.

All the love songs tend to do that now.

a.t. 💗 🎵 crosswords · olivia dean

---

As painful as the brunch incident was, it might have been a blessing in disguise.

Aemond has been doing everything to make it up to you — not that you were asking him to do anything. He was just doing it on his own accord. Little things to make you smile.

Which is why Aemond finally agreed to visit his father with you.

You’ve asked him casually a couple times before in the past, but he always declined with some excuse. You never pressed him to explain, realizing he must have a reason. But still, you knew how much his father misses him and the rest of his siblings so you always offered him a choice to accompany you if he ever wanted to.

Today is that day.

On the drive over, you can tell Aemond is uneasy just by a few subtle nuances. You can read Aemond’s mood pretty well by now.

Laying a hand on his lap, you say, “It’s totally fine if you don’t want to go.”

Aemond’s eye flicks over to you for a quick second before it’s back on the road. “I want to. I just… I haven’t seen him in a while, so… I hope it’s not strained. I don’t want to put you between that.”

You hum, understanding. It has been a long time since Aemond visited his father – or talked to him – you don’t exactly know what caused the falling out but you are sure you stopped seeing Aemond or Aegon visit a couple months before you and Aemond started dating.

All you know is that Viserys is very tuned in and joyous whenever you talk about Aemond with him. Acting more like your girlfriends than the girls do, goading for you to tell him more, tell him mor e like the musical Grease.

(You are still trying to forget about how a few days ago, you had been gushing about Aemond to his dad and even thanked him for encouraging you to go to that party that started all this. Throughout your spiel, Viserys had that knowing look on his face and you knew right then that he knew exactly how you feel about Aemond.

It’s so embarrassing. Love is so embarrassing.

So again, you are trying to forget about that.)

Hoping that Viserys won’t bring any of that up, you offer your boyfriend a comforting smile and a light squeeze on his thigh. “I’m sure he’ll just be happy to see you.”

Aemond looks over at you again and instantly loosens up. There should be a study done on how easily you can disarm him with just a simple smile.

Aemond holds your hand tightly as the two of you step up to the door of his father’s home. Mostly to keep you from falling on the ice on the ground since you are quite clumsy, but he also needs you as an anchor to make him feel braver.

You let the both of you inside with your key, his father already knows that the two of you will be visiting.

Inside, you call his father’s name out while you rid yourself of your winter jacket and boots. You slip on your indoor slippers and grab the medical bag from the closet. Might as well do a routine checkup while you are there.

Aemond watches you, looking more at home at his father’s house than he feels. It’s a little backwards, but he does know he is partly at fault. He hasn’t been back here since before this school year started and he’s been dodging all this father’s attempt to speak to him — only answering in stilted very brief texts or through his mother or Helaena. His father doesn’t even know the reason why Aemond became so cold towards him all of the sudden.

It’s complicated.

“Here, let me,” Aemond says after hanging up his coat, taking the medical bag from you. He actually stumbles a little when you hand it over fully, completely taken aback by how heavy it is. He stares at you for a moment in absolute awe.

Gorgeous, intelligent, and strong. Aemond really did get so lucky with you.

“What?” You question, and he shakes his head, looking down to smile to himself.

The conservatory, of course, is where you find Viserys. But when Aemond steps into the room and sees his father sitting by the big windows, he freezes in shock, stomach dropping in unease. The sight of his father now shocks him greatly.

It has only been seven months since Aemond last saw him, and sure that might be more than half a year but Aemond didn’t think it was that long. Not that Viserys was the picture of health all those months ago, but this change is alarming.

Viserys is incredibly frail and thin now, skin a slight jaundice, and almost completely bald with only a few spots of hair left. He is staring out the window, milky eyes serene yet sad.

It takes Viserys a moment to glance over when you call him, but when he does, his mouth breaks into a wide smile when he notices Aemond beside you.

“My boy!” Viserys cries, voice hoarse and weak. “You’re here!”

Aemond takes a hard swallow, an attempt to keep down the bile and guilt threatening to spill out. His breathing shortens, hands clammy and shaky. He wants to turn and run and —

A hand slips to intertwine with his, soft and warm, squeezing his hand three times. He turns his head and meets your sweet gaze and easy smile, comforting beyond belief. As his breathing evens out and his hands become steady, your head tips towards his father, a silent question which he answers with a nod. And so together, you make your way towards the older Targaryen.

“Hello father,” Aemond greets, allowing you to take the medical bag from him so you scrounge through it while he takes his father’s hand to pay him respect.

“I see you’ve been doing well,” Viserys says with a kind smile after Aemond gets on one knee to press the back of his father’s hand onto his forehead.

Standing up straight, Aemond clears his throat again, blinking away the wetness in his eye while he nods. “Yes, I have been… How have you been doing, father?”

“I’ve been doing—” Viserys takes a pause to cough, a hacking sound that makes Aemond cringe, “— well, I could be doing better, if your lovely girlfriend or Samwell will allow me a sweet treat every once in a while.”

Your eyes roll without malice, pricking his finger to check his blood sugar. “Once your blood sugar level lowers then Samwell will let me know if you're allowed anything sweet. But until then… So rry !”

You flash him a toothy smile after you sing-song your apology that makes Viserys laugh. The older man exchanges a look with his son, one of shared fondness for you.

“Aemond, please catch me up! What have you been doing lately? How are classes going? I heard from ____ that you two went to a pottery class a few days ago, how was that?”

While you go through other tests and diagnostics to send to Sam, you allow them to catch up. Aemond was a little wooden with his answers at first, but as time went on, he became more comfortable. Especially when you would throw in a comment or joke here and there that would make the both of them laugh.

In the kitchen, you and Aemond work together to make a quick lunch. You show him his father’s meal plan, Aemond humming in understanding as explain to him the diet and why the food you are making helps. Before you take the food back to the conservatory, Aemond presses a tender kiss on your lips and thanks you for taking care of his father.

After lunch, Viserys challenges Aemond to a game of Cyvasse. Apparently, according to Viserys, Aemond is the only one who has ever come close to beating him. Aemond accepts, warning his father that just because he hasn’t been around, that doesn’t mean he is out of practice. Him, Jon, and Robb have a little competition going on some mobile game app.

Despite said practice, Aemond loses the first two games they play. He didn’t go down easily, though. Both games were some of the most intense games of Cyvasse you’ve ever witnessed. You’ve seen Viserys play against Jon, the security boys (Grenn, Pyp, and Eddison), and Sam; and you believe that Aemond is the only one who has come closest to defeating Viserys.

You had not realized that your boyfriend is so competitive. After he loses the third time, he sets up the board again for another.

This fourth game is going on for a while. The longest Cyvasse game you’ve ever watched, and yet, instead of being bored, you are sat, entranced with the back and forth of wit.

It wasn’t looking good for Aemond, your boyfriend rubbing his temple and sighing deeply during all his turns. Meanwhile, Viserys is sitting straight, serene, like everything is going to plan.

Viserys takes Aemond’s catapult off the board and you think it’s doomed. Judging by the way Aemond narrows his gaze on the board, scrutinizing every move he could make, he is probably thinking the same.

But then suddenly, a smirk lifts the corner of Aemond’s lips.

Slowly, his lithe fingers pick up his dragon and he moves — his eye flashing across to his father, triumph in that lilac gaze, a watch this — knocking over Viserys’ king piece.

Your mouth gapes, stunned. Did that just happen?

You glance between them, hand over your mouth, still unable to comprehend it. It had looked like Viserys was winning from your terrible understanding of the game. Even Aemond looked frustrated just a minute ago. But now…?

Aemond won.

The room is still and silent. Viserys looks dumbfounded, eyes searching the board for where he went wrong.

And then, after a long pause, Viserys breaks into a hearty laugh and proud smile. “Well done, my boy!”

He beckons Aemond over, and when Aemond does, Viserys wraps his arms around him. Aemond startles, hesitant, but slowly and surely, his arms wrap around his father as well.

Aemond peers at you from over Viserys’ shoulder, and you exchange smiles. Then he lets his eye close, burying his face into the crook of his father’s shoulder with a content sigh.

Your hands itch for a pen and paper to immortalize this moment forever.

a.t. 💗 🎵 talking to strangers · maisie peters

---

It is the perfect Saturday night.

Lights down low, your favorite romantic comedy movie on the television screen, food from your favorite restaurant scattered on the coffee table, and you are comfy on the couch, cuddling your favorite — Ghost.

Tonight, you and the direwolf are alone in the apartment, his owner out on a boy’s night . The same boy’s night that your boyfriend is also partaking on.

“So, Robb asked me to hang out with him and the other guys this Saturday.”

Aemond had tried to look cool and collected when he told you, but you could tell he was surprised and happy that he had been invited. It’s cute. You hope they’re having fun.

“But not too much fun. Amiright, Ghost?”

Ghost tilts his head from side to side several times, not understanding you. You giggle, hugging him closer.

You’re sure that the boys are just doing their usual bar hopping — with maybe a trip to the arcade or bowling thrown in. You just hope they don’t scare off or traumatize Aemond with their crazy escapades.

Theon sent you a snap just 15 minutes ago, with all of them in their Uber, singing (screaming) at the top of their lungs to ‘Can't Take My Eyes Off You’ since you told him what movie you were watching. Even their driver — Tormund, per the caption on the snap — was singing along with them. All of them were clearly already wasted to some degree. Though you only see Aemond for a quick second, he looks like he is having fun too, which makes you happy.

take care of my boyfriend or else, greyjoy 🤬

In which, Theon had just replied with:

*gulp* 🥴

You and the girls had a girl’s day earlier that morning as well, but it was much more tamed. Margaery treated you all to this fancy nail place where you can order drinks while getting your nails done. You got your nails painted a nice shade of red since the holidays are coming soon. You can’t wait to show Aemond, he always likes red on you.

It’s during the middle of The Princess Diaries when you hear the struggle outside your front door. You check the time on your phone – 2:03 AM – and assume it must be the boys bringing Jon home.

Pouting that you have to leave Ghost’s warmth, you squeeze him tight before you get up to pad over to the door. It’s clear that whoever is outside is trying to fit the key inside the lock, but isn’t successful with every muffled curse word you hear. Peering through the peephole, you are greeted with Robb’s forehead, so you unlock and open the door.

“Oh, thank Gods,” Robb rejoices, accidentally dropping Jon’s carabiner that holds his keys onto the ground. When he picks it up, that’s when you see Aemond’s holding up Jon behind him. The latter is so drunk he can barely stand on his own.

“Whoa…” You lean against the door, arms crossing, shaking your head at the state of your best friend. “Bowling?”

Jon is notoriously bad at bowling and whenever the boys do their bowling drinking game, it’s the only time Jon comes home absolutely plastered.

“Yup!�� Robb proudly answers. “It was me and Aemond against Jon and Theon. Aemond and I won, clearly.”

“Clearly,” You say with a laugh. “Where’s loser #2?”

“He’s in the Uber, which I should get back to before he throws up all over it,” Robb says, handing you Jon’s keys. “It’s a Tesla, ____, and I can’t afford to pay cleaning fines right now after all the gift shopping I’ve done!”

“Alright, go, go!” You urge, and he gives you a quick hug and says his goodbye to Jon and Aemond — let’s do this again soon, lads! — before running off.

“ So… I’m guessing you had fun?” You ask Aemond, opening the door wide enough for him to drag both himself and Jon inside, pressing a kiss on his cheek when he passes by. Aemond hums happily and nods.

“ Uuurghhh… ”

“I wasn’t asking you , Jon. You obviously had too much fun. ”

It was a two person job to take Jon to his bedroom and tuck him into bed, but you and Aemond manage. You leave some Poppyvil and a glass of water on his bedside table before you and Aemond leave him with Ghost climbing up onto his bed.

Sitting at the kitchen table with your boyfriend, you talk softly between one another, telling each other about your day. You show off your pretty new set of nails, which he compliments, taking your hands and kissing each of your fingers. You laugh, realizing that although he isn’t as visibly drunk as Jon and Robb, he still is tipsy enough to do things that he usually wouldn’t do while sober.

During his turn to talk about his night, he takes a pause to hydrate. You watch him with your chin in the palm of your hand, visibly swooning at the sight of him. He is so regal and beautiful, and all he is doing is drinking water. The pretty curve of his neck exposed while his pretty Adam’s apple bobs with every swallow.

But then his head tips back to get what little is left in the cup, and your eyes snap wide open, awoken from your daydreaming.

Because right there, on his left earlobe that was obscured by his gorgeous silvery hair until this very moment, is a small silver hoop earring.

You gasp out loud, standing up from the chair swiftly while pointing at it. “What is that?!”

Aemond jumps slightly at your sudden exclamation, touching where you are pointing, then he laughs sheepishly as he remembers. So many things happened during the boy’s night that he almost forgot about it. “Oh, this…? Well, you see… the boys said they were all planning on getting one, and that I didn’t have to… But then Theon said that someone… well, nevermind — why? Does it look awful?”

You take a step towards him, fitting yourself in between his legs. Aemond naturally makes room for you, pleased to finally be so close to you after the whole day of being without.

From this close, you are able to fully admire his new piercing. The silver matches well with his undertone, you think as you gently trace the curvature of his ear, careful not to touch the still sensitive lobe.

He was already so unbelievably beautiful before, but now…

“Aemond, I’m sorry… I don’t think I can do this,” you say, voice low yet full of feelings, dramatic as you shake your head and your face crumples. Instantly concerned, Aemond quickly searches your face, putting his hands on your waist and pulling you toward him. He murmurs a soft and adorably confused darling, what are you…? but you continue, “I have very weak muscles. I can’t fight for my life. I mean, I’ll obviously try — I really will! But…”

You place your hands on both sides of his shoulders, sensually massaging down towards his chest and up again. Aemond’s eye goes wide, taking a hard swallow. “I don’t know if I can win against everyone who’s gonna go after you now that you have that piercing. Like, you were already hot before, but now you are downright criminally hot. I can’t fight, Aemond,” you lean down, whispering sultrily into his ear, “What if I don’t win?”

You feel his whole body shivering, his hands on you clutches tighter. “You have no competition. You’ll always win with me.”

“ Yeah…? ” You question softly, smirking with glee.

Aemond takes your chin gently between his fingers and turns your head toward him. The way he is looking at you has your heart beating incredibly fast. There is that twinkle in his eye that lets you believe that you can trust everything he says to you, that he will never lead you astray.

“Yes,” Aemond murmurs as he moves to hover his mouth over yours, his thumb tracing your jaw. “It’s only ever going to be you.”

He closes the space between you, kissing you hard and slow. His hand wraps around your neck, causing you to gasp softly which allows for Aemond to slip his tongue inside your mouth. It escalates after that, Aemond licking in your mouth with a moan, prying away for a moment just to catch your mouth at a different angle. Breaking apart then meeting over and over and over again.

Aemond tries to pull you into his lap, to get you going on his thigh like he knows you love to do, but you push away from him gently with a soft laugh. He pouts up at you, and you just shake your head.

“I wanna do something for you,” you whisper to him, turning his head to the side to press a sloppy kiss on his neck, just under his newly pierced earlobe.

“What—” Aemond cuts himself off with a choked groan, your knee rubbing over the growing bulge in his pants. His reaction has you giggling as you kiss down his neck.

His heavy lidded eye watches as you go down onto your knees, slow , with your hips swaying from side to side. Your hands are on his body the entire time, caressing down too.

A dance just for him, and he is captivated by it.

When your knees press against the wooden floor, you make Aemond spread his leg wider for you. Rubbing back and forth along his thighs, you deliberately avoid where he really wants to feel your touch.

“I wanna make you feel good,” you say with a lick of your lips.

Aemond squirms in his seat, clearly already pent up. “Sweetheart…”

This is supposed to be a treat, so you don’t tease him any further, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants effortlessly. Aemond lifts his hips, enabling you to pull his pants and boxer briefs down just below his knees, his length flopping up to his stomach.

You take him in your hand. Perfectly red nails wrapped around his flushed red, aching cock.

It’s a pretty sight, and you believe Aemond thinks so too, judging by the way he twitches in the palm of your hand, the tip of his cockhead oozing pre.

As soon as you start to stroke him, Aemond moans out loud, causing you to stop immediately. Brows drawing together in confusion, he whimpers like a wounded puppy, but you just press a finger to your smirking lips. “You have to keep quiet, Aemond. We can’t wake Jon or Ghost up,” slowly, using his precum to make your movements smoother, you begin to stroke him again, “Can you keep quiet for me, baby?"

Biting down hard on his bottom lip, Aemond only nods. Keeping quiet like he just promised.

Aemond is doing such a good job. Even when you start to play with his heavy balls — kneading and rolling it against your other palm — he doesn’t make a single sound. He is leaking profusely now, your hand dripping with him.

Fluttering your eyes up at him, you lean forward to kitten lick his spend trailing down the back of your hand still wrapped around his cock, and Aemond has to close his eye and pray to not say anything. A praise for you bitten at the tip of his tongue.

Noting the way he is struggling to keep quiet, you pump his shaft a few more times before you squeeze him tight just around the base. This causes his hip to thrust forward, his fist flying up so he can bite down on his knuckles.

“Baby,” you murmur, and Aemond opens his eye gradually, peering down at you. His chest is expanding greatly, breathing heavily. Your head turns sideways, sucking and kissing along the thickest vein on his cock, then ending with a broad lick around his tip. “Guide me, okay? Want to make it feel so good for you.”

Aemond nods, resting his hand on the back of your head, watching as you lower your mouth to his cock. The sheer size of him used to intimidate you, but you’ve had him down your throat enough times now that you know you can take him quite well.

Aemond shivers as your lips wrap around him, humming on your descent down. He tenderly tucks your hair behind your ear, getting a better look of himself disappearing inside your pretty mouth.

As your hot saliva coats him, the way you are hollowing your cheeks feels too good. His hand grips tight onto the back of your head, unable to stop himself from pushing your head deeper down on his cock. Soon, his tip hits the back of your throat, and you gag around him but he doesn’t let up — he is not fully inside yet. You are not giving up either, tapping your finger on his thigh to let him know you are capable of taking more.

He pulls you back a little, then he pushes you forward again, this time your nose is brushing into the hair around the base of his shaft and your mouth is stuffed full entirely of him. You swallow multiple times around him, your throat feeling the way he throbs and twitches uncontrollably.

Then he lets go of the back of your head, grinning down at you, allowing you to do your worst. You get sloppy with it, drool dripping all over his cock as you deepthroat him until he is becoming even more and more sensitive, his release coming soon.

Aemond can’t hold back anymore — a loud panting moan falling out of his thoroughly bitten lips.

You glance up — and if you weren’t already choking on his cock or had tears in your eyes, you definitely will have now.

The golden glow of shitty kitchen light serves as a divine halo around Aemond. With his head tipped back, mouth wide open in a muted moan, the silver of the piercing shining brilliantly — he looks like an angel.

Aemond comes beautifully, he always does.

You pull back enough for his cock to lay on your tongue, letting him shoot his load into your mouth. He softens on your tongue before you completely move away, and he watches as you swallow down his tangy taste without any complaint. Even wiping your messy mouth with a satisfied smile.

Aemond pulls you up to him, and you sit to the side on his lap while your hands intertwine behind his neck.

“Your turn,” Aemond says as his heated mouth finds yours.

You shake your head, giggling as he kisses along your jawline. “Nuh-uh, I’m tired. It’s like 3 AM, Aemond.”

“But—”

It is frantic scratching on a door and whimpering that pulls the two of you away from each other.

Alarmed, you meet each other's gaze.

Oh, no… You woke up Ghost. He is probably worried about all the noises he is hearing. Poor baby.

“Let’s let him out, calm him down, and then go to bed.”

“Right, Okay.”

“Aemond! Put your dick back in your pants first!”

“Shit, right!”

You laugh, kissing him while he does just that.

a.t. 💗 🎵 heart out · the 1975

---

Aemond has been visiting his father a lot lately. At least three times a week. Most of the time with you but there were some days he actually went on his own.

It’s strange, but nice. It feels like he is getting to know his father again. Repairing their relationship that his father had no idea was broken in the first place.

So when he gets a call from Viserys, asking him to come by with just him, Aemond gives him his word that he’ll be there after his last class of the day.

The last class ended up being canceled so he arrives at his father’s mansion earlier than expected, pulling up at the same time as his father’s nurse, Samwell.

“Hello Samwell,” Aemond greets with a nod, as they walk up the path together.

“Oh, hi Aemond!” Sam exclaims with glee. “It’s nice to see you around here again!”

“Yeah, it is,” Aemond smiles, helping Sam with the packages left out on the front door. While Sam unlocks the door, Aemond shifts from one foot to the other, pursing his lips to the side. “Can I ask you something?”

Entering the house together, and scuffing off the snow on the soles of their boots, Sam nods at Aemond. “Of course!”

Aemond takes a shallow breath. “How do you think he’s doing? Anything I should be concerned about?”

Samwell frowns, taking a moment to figure out how to say what he is going to say next. “To be honest, Aemond, he could be doing better. I’m actually here because the doctors are concerned about the numbers ___ sent us yesterday. They’re not so bad that it warrants an immediate visit to the hospital, but they are preparing a room for him to stay after his bi-weekly visit on Friday.”

Aemond hums, frowning. That doesn’t sound good.

Aemond follows Samwell around to look for his father, but they don’t find him in any of his usual spots. The conservatory, the living area, the kitchen, his bedroom — all empty.

It makes Aemond really nervous. Luckily Sam is there and he is more levelheaded. “Let’s split up. I’ll tackle upstairs and you check the other rooms on this floor, okay?”

They quickly get to work. Every room Aemond finds empty has dread running down his spine.

Where is he? Where is he? Where is he?

“Found him!” He hears Samwell cheerily call from somewhere on the second floor, allowing Aemond to let out a breath of relief.

Aemond climbs up the stairs, three steps at a time. He calls out, and when Samwell answers, he follows his voice.

He finds himself standing in front of an open door to a room that he has only been into once before.

Because it’s Aemma’s art room, Viserys’ first wife.

Inside, he can see Samwell already tending to his father, but Aemond stands there, not knowing what to do. It wasn’t forbidden for him to go in there, but it was a taboo between him and his siblings. And it seems that those made up rules are still ingrained in his head.

Because Aemma is the reason his father didn’t fully love his mother. Aemma is the reason his father didn’t love him or his other siblings. Aemma is the reason for the divorce. And Aemma is part of the reason for the will that he and Aegon found in the beginning of summer.

At least that was what they were all made to believe.

“Aemond, get over here,” Samwell beckons him over. Aemond sees his father wave to him weakly, smile weak as well, and so he swiftly walks towards where Viserys is sitting in front of an unfinished painting on an easel. A painting that hasn’t been worked on for 27 years.

“Are you well, father? Should we take you to the hospital?”

Visersy shakes his head. “No, no… I am fine. But can you…” He shakily points to another chair close by, “... bring that chair closer and sit down for me, please?”

Aemond does as he is told, settling down on the chair right in front of his father.

“I have something for you,” Viserys begins. Meanwhile Samwell is busy around them, doing all the things necessary for his job, his father is used to it so he continues, “Do you see that box over there?”

Aemond looks over to where his father is pointing and spies a small dark blue velvet box on the ledge of the easel.

“Can you grab it?”

Aemond reaches over, stretching out his arm and is able to grab hold of the box without moving from his chair.

Then Viserys urges him to open it with a smile, and so Aemond lifts open the box and what he sees has his brows narrowing together, unable to comprehend why it is in his hands.

It’s a ring — but that’s not what has him so confused.

Aemond knows what this opulent sapphire ring is. There are too many pictures of Aemma Targaryen around the mansion to not know.

“This is the highly-coveted Targaryan engagement ring, it’s been in our family for thousands and thousands of years… And I want you to have it, Aemond.”

Glancing up at his father, still confused, Aemond presses, “But… why?”

“I hope you don’t find it disrespectful, Aemond. I know it’s strange to give you a ring that was the engagement ring that I gave to a woman that wasn’t your mother. But it’s a family heirloom, and I always knew it was going to be passed down to one of my children to give to the person that they fall in love with — and I hope I am not being presumptuous to think that you are in love with ___, and I’m not pressuring you to be—”

“It’s alright,” Aemond cuts him off with a soft smile. “I am… I am in love with her.”

It’s cathartic to finally say it out loud. Now that he has done it, he wants the whole world to know.

He and his father share a look, his father appears to be so happy for him.

But wait—

“You want me to ask her to marry me?” Aemond questions, eye widening in bewilderment.

“No, no!” Viserys shakes his head, laughing. “Not if you’re not ready! You can do it whenever it feels right for you two — if it ever feels right… I know feelings can change, and all that…”

“I don’t think my feelings for her will ever change,” Aemond says, so sure of it. “But I’m not sure we’re quite ready for that yet. We both still have college to finish…”

Viserys nods, understanding. “I still want you to keep it. Even if you want to buy her a different ring, or how you youths these days don’t even find the point in marriage…” He stops to laugh, and even Samwell chuckles a bit, “You can hand it down to your children.”

“Thank you, father…” Aemond murmurs, glancing down at the ring. In his head, he imagines himself giving it to you during some grand gesture— and then another during a small one. Many different scenarios drift though his vivid imagination, and each one feels right. The ring on your dainty finger would look so right. It’s meant for you.

“Just one condition…” His father holds out his shaky hand, and Aemond cocks his head, questioning. “I get to have a front row seat… and Samwell too, along with his wife, Gilly.”

Aemond laughs, nodding along as he takes his father’s hand to shake on it. “Alright. I think ___ will also agree to that.”

“Fantastic! Gilly loves weddings!” Samwell comments, overhearing the deal.

Aemond and father talk a while more, until Samwell wraps up.

“Okay, lunch time!” Samwell announces. “Aemond, would you like to give me a hand?”

“Of course.”

But the two of them don’t even make it out the door before they hear hacking and rough coughing behind them.

Aemond turns, just in time to witness his father falling, hitting his head hard against the floor. His body convulses after the impact, moving erratically.

Something is not right.

Aemond pales, blood rushing to head, feeling faint.

Is this really happening? This cannot be happening.

Samwell rushes past him to attend to his father.

Meanwhile, Aemond stands there and stares.

Horrified and frozen.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd imagine #hotd smut #aemond #aemond targaryen #hotd

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beauty-4-thebeast · 7 hours

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To Ghoul or not to Ghoul?

We have yet to see in Fallout Season 2 whether Lucy develops feelings for the Ghoul or her first-love crush on Max evolves into true love. But there’s one thing we know for sure: by the end of Season 1 Lucy is already EVERYTHING to the Ghoul.

Hear me out.

First, what she did to him when she saved him at the Super Duper Mart. Obviously, she proved that she stood her moral ground much more firmly than he ever thought she could, reviving his faith in all things good and kind. But there's a second layer to what she did. Her exact words were:

She gave him hope. For him her words had the implication that no matter how ugly, damaged and rotting you look, you still can be a good person. There were hints throughout the story that Cooper had come to think of his appearance as inseparable from his moral character. When he said, "Ain't much stays clean here" he was talking about how people inevitably become wretched crooks there just as much as he was talking about the physical damage the Wasteland causes.

Second, when the Ghoul saw Lucy pointing a gun at her father, I'll bet you anything he instantly grasped the situation – that Lucy had been betrayed so horribly that she was now at the point of snapping. The Ghoul shot at Hank himself, not giving Lucy enough time to decide on anything (but most likely he knew she was going to lower her gun, you can see her about to do that).

When a few minutes later he turns his back at her and hears her cock her gun, he assumes there's no one else in the room who Lucy might want to kill. She didn't have the gut to kill her father, the most important person in her life, but the Ghoul is a different story. He's been treating her with nothing but unfairness and cruelty (as she sees it), and to her he represents everything she’s grown to hate about the Wastelands.

And instead of turning around and shooting the gun off her hand (we know he can, he has just wiped off a dozen of soldiers who were keeping him at gunpoint) he just holds his breath and waits for her decision. He wants to know whether her heart, the heart he's grown to admire, is shattered beyond repair. He puts his own existence at stake (he would have died had she shot off his head, there's no doubt about that). Let me say it outloud: at that moment Lucy is more important to him than finding his family!

It's like nothing is worth anything to him if Lucy breaks down and loses herself to hatred.

JUST WOW!!

#how am I not supposed to ship them?#because this is the most powerful dynamic I've seen in YEARS #fallout tv series #fallout amazon #fallout meta #ghoulcy #lucy x cooper #lucy maclean #cooper howard #vaultghoul #fallout prime #fallout 2024

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sugary-strawberry-shortcake · 1 day

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The Tortured Poet's Department

lyrics as relationships with various character

anon: hiii! this is my first official post and I'm kinda anxious. This is actually a result of my procrastination regarding my final exam, which I'm kind of stressed about. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this post and please don't mind my writing too much. English isn't my first language (or my second). By the way, a big thank you to @dr-felitas. for helping me with assigning characters.

"And I love you, it's ruining my life" - Fortnight

"You're ruining my life, dear."

He wasn't exactly glaring at you when he saw you wearing that red dress. After he watched you descend the stairs, he felt as though his whole world had stopped. It took him some time to compose himself again and fake a devastated expression. His feelings for you were no joke. Whatever goals and principles he had were all thrown out of the window when he noticed you.

Throughout his life, he thought he was a rational man, not caring about sentimental things like friends, family, or love. Nevertheless, this changed when he experienced your smile for the first time. Like a tornado, you changed his perception of life and the world. At that moment, he thanked God for your entrance into his life and prayed for you to remain there. He would make sure you would be with him, happy and healthy, because that was all he desired in life.

____________

NANAMI (jjk), GOJO (jjk), Choso (jjk), SAE, Chigiri, Nagi, RIN (bllk), LEVI (aot) , Shotou (mha), Reiner (aot), Zoro, Iwazumi, Tsukishima (haikyuu!)

"You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? / I died on the altar waiting for the proof." - So Long, London

He said to keep it under cover. He loved you, but the two of you couldn't tell anyone about your relationship or it would cause unwanted stress. Your man is a superstar, a god, even some might say. Whenever he enters a room, people turn their heads and fawn over him. Every street in the city is plastered with his gorgeous physique.

In comparison to him, you seem ordinary. Too ordinary. Although he had assured you that you were the one for him, the differences between you wouldn't matter to him. So why did you feel so insecure in your relationship? You weren't sure of his feelings after years of being with him. You were unable to read him, to see true expressions of his love.

Year after year, anniversary after anniversary, you still wondered when he would pop the question to prove his love and commit fully to a life with you. Even the media and those close to him began questioning the lack of progress in your relationship. This leads to you confronting him. In the middle of the fight, you broke down. While you were sobbing and begging him to love you, his face remained stoic.

"I do love you, I just can't see myself marrying you."

You left with a broken heart. Waiting for him to change his mind would only waste your time. You regretted loving him for a long time. Through the view of the media, he seemed unaffected by your loss, maybe even happier.

"I do."

Albeit he may regret never putting a ring on your finger when he saw you the first time after your breakup. You were happy on the altar with your husband. A man that wasn't him, but could have been if only he had appreciated you more.

____________

USHIJIMA (haikyuu!), Atsumu, Gojo (jjk) Getou (jjk), Megumi (jjk), Rin, Michael (bllk), Hawks (mha)

"They shake their heads, saying 'God, help her' when I tell 'em he's my man" - I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

"He isn't right for you."

Your parents didn't approve of him. Actually, no one in your circle did. They all deemed him too reckless and ruthless, without any convincing achievements in his life. In their eyes, he wasn't worthy of you and your love.

Their worries weren't unfounded, to be honest; they were reasonable. He was the epitome of a walking red flag: a raging alcoholic with a history of illegal records. His temper and frequent visits to the pub often led to fights. But he promised to tone down the aggression whenever you patched up his wounds.

"You make me a better man. I love you."

Nevertheless, all his imperfections didn't matter to you, not when he held you in bed and promised to always cherish you. According to him, you were calming his raging soul and bringing out the best in him. You were the shining light in his life, and he was the healthy amount of darkness in yours.

No matter what the people around you both said, you couldn't imagine yourself having a happy life without him. You were adamant about fixing his flaws, even if it meant drowning yourself in the process.

_________________

TOJI (jjk), SUKUNA (jjk), UVOGIN (hxh), PHINKS (hxh), Sasuke (naruto), Dabi, Katsuki (mha), Eren (aot), NAYOA (jjk),

"And it kills me. I just don't understand how you don't miss me."- The Black Dog

Just a few weeks ago, the two of you were dining together. He was laughing at your sweet antics and grimaces as you struggled with the chopsticks, and you were enjoying being the reason for his happiness. Then the atmosphere changed when the waiter made a slightly flirty comment towards you. This sparked an argument between the two of you. He accused you of flirting back, and you declared him delusional. In the heat of the moment, he packed his belongings and left the apartment. And he never came back.

The heartbreak hit you a few days later when you realized he wasn't coming back. You were miserable, laying in bed, crying, stuffing your mouth full of ice cream, and watching your comfort shows. It was as if a part of your happiness had left with him. Only when your friends forced you to dress up and dragged you to the nearest club did you feel like living again.

Your smile dropped when you saw him. He was sitting at the bar with a woman on his lap. His hands were on her barely covered thighs, and her lips were pressing on his neck. Your heart sank, and all the noise around you seemed muted.

"Only three weeks after you both broke up? What an ass!"

Your friends tried to comfort you as you could only nod. Why was it that you were suffering without him while he seemed to feel no pain? This caused you to doubt your former relationship. Had he ever really loved you as you did him? Or were you the one who always loved him more? You couldn't bear the sight any longer when you heard his raspy laugh, a laugh he only had with you. With a quick goodbye, you stormed outside as fast as you could.

Unbeknownst to you, he watched longingly as you left the bar.

_________________________

SUKUNA (jjk), TOJI (jjk), Oikawa (haikyuu!), Hisoka (hxh), Michael (bllk), Oliver, Sae, Katsuki (mha),

"You know how to ball, I know Aristotle"- So High School

Both of you couldn't be any more contrasting. You are the shy girl who loves to hide behind her novels but still excels at the top of her class. He was the cocky, loud football champion of the school. No one would have ever thought to see you interact, but this changed when you were assigned to tutor him.

How could he stop himself from falling for you when you were so endearing? Blushing whenever he complimented you and laughing at his jokes. Not long after your study sessions, he confessed his feelings and asked you to be his girlfriend. To no one's surprise, you agreed.

"Will you watch me during my practice?"

He grinned at you with a cocky smile. Or maybe it wasn't cocky; it could also be considered charming in your eyes. He loved seeing you sitting on the bleachers, reading your book and looking adorable doing it. And you loved being there, watching him during his passion and supporting him in your own introverted way.

Yet he supported you too. Whenever you were nervous before an upcoming exam, he would encourage you while also making sure you took care of yourself. He would boast about your relationship and you in front of everyone he knew and met. If someone dared to comment on you or your relationship negatively, he would confront them and make them regret their words.

"You're my smart girl."

No one would have thought the two of you could be such a match, but seeing the two of you together was proof enough that opposites attract and complement each other.

_____________________

Bokuto (haikyuu!!) , REO (bllk), YUJI (jjk), GOJO (jjk), GON (hxh), Rin (bllk), Michael (bllk), Deku (mha), PERCY JACKSON (pjo), Ace, HINATA (haikyuu!), Kuroo (haikyuu!) , Luffy

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picturejasper20 · 2 days

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Looking back the ending of Gravity Falls while thinking about endings of other series like Amphibia and The Ghost and Molly Mcgee, Weirdmageddon has a message that is underwhelming when it comes to Dipper and Mabel's relationship and Mabel's potrayal in the show.

This isn't about Mabel getting tricked by Bill. She is a 12-13 years old that in that context she was feeling really bad and not thinking well what she was doing. That isn't relevant to the topic at hand and honestly it isn't a problem she did that, it does makes sense in the episode it happened.

What i have an issue is how the narrative makes Dipper feel bad about considering staying studying with Stanford. This is something that Dipper was interested in and he was very fascinated by anything that was paranormal related. Stanford himself told Dipper he had a lot of potential and the kid was digging into it.

Mabel lashing out and not liking the idea of Dipper staying with Stanford is understandable in the episode Dipper and Mabel vs. the Future. She doesn't seem to have much friends back in her home and her parents are implied to not be the best. She gets scared of Dipper leaving, that's a reasonable fear for a kid to have.

However, as i mentioned before, Dipper is made feel bad about considering choosing something he wants to do. It isn't Mabel who has to learn that things change and sometimes this brings things we don't like. She doesn't exactly consider what Dipper wants for himself, she mainly cares about how ¨she is going to be alone¨ and making her brother feel selfish for choosing his own path or do something that could make him happy.

Yes, she learns that things can't stay the same forever and they are growing up, that itself is a pretty good development for her and overall a good message to teach.

Yet her being codependent on Dipper doesn't get brought up nor addressed, in fact the series seems to praise this behavior of hers. In how Dipper has to do what she wants if not he is a bad brother. Mabel's clinginess and controlling behaviour to an extent isn't called out, which that itself is a problem.

Small edit: I want to add an extra point here that Mabel does have a short scene near the end of the episode that she tells Dipper that she won't get in his way if he wants to stay with Stanford and she was ¨acting nuts¨ in the dream bubble. This is good for her but it does still feel in part that her issues weren't fully acknowledged and it doesn't help she didn't say this until after Dipper told her that he was going to stay with her and not be with Stanford, which is rather questionable in my opinion. It would have been more appropiate in the episode to have this brought up and getting adressed better than for her to wait for Dipper to do what she wanted.

In contrast in Amphibia, Marcy Wu has a similar arc about change. The series explores how she can take her escapism too far and how she can be very selfish in plenty of ways, something that is potrayed as an aspect she has to learn from and realize that it isn't healthy.

Her being too codependent on Anne and Sasha and their overall friendship is potrayed as toxic and the series explores this relationship a lot, having the girls grow over time and think about different aspects they have to work on.

In ¨True Colors¨ it is revealed that Marcy Wu learned about the Calamity Box the same day she got told by her parents that they were moving away. Very afraid of having to leave her friends behind and having to be alone in a new city, she found the Calamity Box and told Sasha and Anne about it. Worth of mentioning she didn't know if it would work but it was a desperate act of her just to not having to move away from her friends yet.

When Sasha and Anne find out about this they are, not surprisingly, very pissed and push from Marcy away for a moment, making Marcy realize her mistake and eventually apologizes for what she did.

In ¨All In¨ Marcy finally comes to terms with how she can't force Anne and Sasha to be the way she wants them to be and that her codependency on them isn't a good thing. She realizes that has to move away to her new home at some point, that things change but that doesn't mean the three of them have to stop being friends.

As you can see, there is a clear difference between how Mabel Pines and Marcy Wu’s characters and flaws are potrayed in the narrative. While Gravity Falls makes Mabel’s codependency and controlling behaviour to be something acceptable and that Dipper should conform to, Amphibia does the complete opposite and presents Marcy Wu’s actions as flaws she has and that can hurt other people, including her friends. She is the one that has to make a change and understand she has to work on herself if she wants to have new friends and keep these relationships as times moves on.

Since we are on topic, one thing that really bothered me is how Mabel created a version of Dipper that is ¨cool¨ and says yes and goes along with everything she wants to do. (Weirdmageddon Part 2)

This has… interesting implications of how Mabel believes that relationships should work, or at least with her brother twin Dipper. A lot has to do with how she and Dipper have very different personalities and she maybe wishes that he was more like her, but expecting someone else to say ¨yes¨ to everything you want is a toxic mentality to have. And the episode itself doesn’t address this enough, it doesn’t bring up to Mabel she can’t expect people to work like this and she should try thinking more about what others wants.

Lets talk about The Ghost and Molly Mcgee. In this series Molly Mcgee often has episodes where she has to learn certain lessons. One of them she learns over time is that often she has to give up control and let what others want to do instead.

A good example of this is ¨Ready, Set, Snow!¨ in which she is constanly trying to make Libby and Scratch to go and play outside in the snow with her without considering they would rather stay inside and sit near the fire for the moment. She spends most of the episode trying to find ways to make them go outside until she gets angry and goes out on her own. She has… quite of a mental breakdown in a sequence song. Scratch goes to check on her but he tells to her that she can’t do always what she wants and what it is important is for her to be spending time with her friends. Molly realizes she was wrong, goes back to the house and she apologizes for how she acted.

Molly has quite a lot of episodes like this, and all this becomes important in the series finale ¨The End¨ when she sees that Scratch has to go back to be Todd even if that means forgetting the memories he got as a ghost, her included. She tells Scratch that she is going to miss him a lot but she knows that forcing Scratch to stay wouldn’t be right. She encourages Scratch to go and ¨live his life¨ because she cares about Scratch being happy.

Similar to Marcy Wu, Molly learns that she can’t force people to do what she wants and she has to let them choose for themselves. She knows that encouraging Scratch to do what he always wanted to do as human is the right thing to do, even if it means saying goodbye to him.

I do understand the idea that Gravity Falls was doing at with something among the lines of ¨Dipper and Mabel not repeating the same mistakes that their uncles did¨ but that doesn’t mean Dipper has to give up his dreams at expense of what Mabel wants. As Dipper said in VS The Future episode: he can still visit and they can still talk to each other. They don’t have to fall apart the same way Standford and Stan did. Just like in Amphibia, if Marcy still was able to remain friends with Anne and Sasha over the years, the same can be applied to Dipper and Mabel as siblings.

If not, it could be rewritten in a way that makes Dipper reconsider that he would like to wait a few years before joining Stanford in his adventures. That he is still a kid and wants to spend a while longer figuring himself out and be with Mabel before making a decision. That way it feels more like a decision he wants to do for himself and goes along with his character arc that he doesn’t have to rush to grow up.

As for Mabel, she has a lot of growing up to do. She has to learn overtime that Dipper is his own person and he can take is own path. That if she wants to have friends or have in general healthy relationships with others, she can’t make it always about herself and people have their own needs as well. She would have to work on her codependency and clinginess she has on others, specially her own brother. This would help her with being a more mature capable individual when she grows up.

This post on itself isn’t me hating on Mabel’s character since she has moments she can be good and i feel a lot of her behaviour comes from not being taught properly and being a teenager. The problem is that the series doesn’t address this behaviour enough and, as result, it comes off as the series giving an unintentional underwhelming message of potraying Mabel’s issues as something that should be acceptable and not her having a dynamic with Dipper that comes off as toxic. It is important to understand to learn to support others and not always make things about ourselves. That sometimes relationships change and we can’t force people to be in a specific way.

#gravity falls #amphibia #The Ghost and Molly Mcgee #mabel pines #dipper pines #weirdmageddon #marcy wu #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #molly mcgee #scratch mcgee #Dipper should also like learn to put boundaries better and not go along with what Mabel always wants #He kinda has the opposite problem of Mabel #anyways i remember this rubbing off the wrong way when i watched 8 years ago and rewatching it still does

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writingwithfolklore · 10 hours

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5 Things about working in a (small) publishing house that surprised me

My experiences definitely aren’t true of the entire industry. I work in a very small, very local publishing house as a marketing assistant, and I’m certain that you’d have a much different experience at Penguin Random House, or even another small house on the other side of the country. That being said, here’s five things that really surprised me about what I’ve seen from the industry so far…

1. Very few of the people who work in publishing are writers

Okay this was one of the biggest surprises but also kind of makes sense? Publishing is a lot about the business side of things—numbers and marketing strategies and event planning, etc. People who are talented in design and accounting and other essential pieces to book publishing aren’t necessarily good at or practiced writers, and not all people who love reading also love writing!

I guess this surprised me so much because I’ve never been a reader without being a writer, but we often actually rely on the author’s writing on their own works (summaries, bios, etc.) to populate the backs of books and other marketing. Including me, there are three writers in my entire office.

2. Big booksellers (think Indigo) release yearly cover palettes for book covers

When we’re deciding the colours for a book cover, one thing that goes into that consideration is actually the different palettes Indigo releases! They have different palettes for different sections they update every year. I imagine it’s to fit a certain look for their shelves for new releases, but it’s not something I had ever really thought about, or thought that they would care about!

3. On that topic—publishing houses don’t sell to readers

My first day in marketing, my manager told me, “you’d think we’re selling to readers” I did think that. She said, “we’re actually selling to bookstores and libraries, they sell to readers.” How the money works is booksellers buy our books to put on their shelf. Everything they don’t sell, they’re allowed to trade back for credit, so we want them to buy big upfront, and then sell big to readers. Every book they send back is inventory we can’t get rid of and a “free” book for them down the line, so we don’t want books to come back!

If you want to support authors and your favourite publishing houses, buy from local bookstores who can’t afford to keep underselling books on their shelves for as long as say Indigo. If you really want to support authors, check out their books from libraries (yes really). Libraries are great because they buy books from publishing houses and can use the same one book to get into the hands of several readers, (in Canada) authors get a small amount every time a book is checked out (up to a certain amount so that the library’s entire budget doesn’t go to one book/author). Often, an author’s largest cheque is from libraries.

Unfortunately in the States authors don’t get the same boon, but still supporting your local libraries is just as good as supporting your local indie bookstores!

4. Soo many people look at covers, and soo much goes into creating them

I’m not really a designer, so I’m certain this wouldn’t surprise those of you who actually do graphic design, but they seriously look at every single detail and how it will benefit or hurt the sales. The placement of blurbs, choice of fonts, colours, subtitles, even the placement of raindrops for a rainy background, everything is discussed and tested and tried several different ways. So yes, DO judge a book by its cover, we work so hard on making covers perfect for the audience we’re trying to reach.

5. Publishing houses don’t necessarily have in-house editors, publicity, or other roles

I had always assumed that every publishing house had its own editors and publicists and what not. That’s probably true for the bigger ones, but if you’re being published by a smaller one (which you may be for your debut) you may be working with freelance editors and publicists who work somewhat with your publishing house and also with others as well. We have one in-house publicist, and no editors!

I wouldn’t turn down a publishing house just because they use freelancers (our freelancers are amazing!) but it’s important that they’re upfront about it. Huge red flag if they say they have in-house editors and they don’t actually—I would pass on a publishing house that lies to you.

Any other questions you have about the industry I’ll try to answer!

#writing #creative writing #writing community #writers #screenwriting #writing inspiration #books #filmmaking #film #writing advice #publishing industry #publishing #traditional publishing #trad publishing #publishing house

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figsnpassionfruits · 1 day

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Paint Away, My Little Dove - Chapter 2

word count: 1.5k tags: arthur morgan x fem!reader, fluff, age gap dividers by: @strangergraphics-archive pictures are from pinterest

The cabin at Hamish’s offered you peace and quiet when no one else would. The big lake right in front of it, the scent of the various wildflowers and the sounds of all kinds of animals never failed to cause harmonious explosions of your senses. Sitting at the front porch with Hamish helped as well. He treated you like his daughter, never asking you to pay him back for food or drinks. He took you in, and he would never throw you out.

“I’m telling ya, there’s an ugly beast out there and if I won’t get it, it’ll sure as hell get me.” He expressed, swinging back and forth on his wooden rocking chair.

‘This again.’ You thought. The coffee was hot, slightly burning your lips and tongue as you took a small sip. “Why don’t you just stick to fishing like normal old men?” You teased, placing the mug down on the table in front of you.

“Old?!” Hamish exclaimed, clearly appalled by that description. “The beautiful outside hasn’t sent me too crazy yet. Therefore, also not old. Crazy ages, not years.”

The familiar sound of hooves clicking was caught by your ears. Incoming was Arthur, on his black Shire, tilting his hat as the sound slowed down.

“Ah, Arthur!” Hamish got up from his chair, visibly excited at his arrival. He probably was the only other male companion besides Buell that Hamish could call a friend. It could get pretty lonely in the Eastern Grizzlies. No sane person would like to go further East to Annesburg or Van Horn to make friends. Especially for a veteran, who had been through a lot, trust was another aspect to think of. Shaking hands and agreeing on friendship was not the first thing he wanted to do with everyone.

“Evenin’.” Arthur said, getting down from his horse and walking over to the porch, exchanging a quick hug with Hamish. Glancing over to you, he flashed a small smile you were sure he was trying to hide. “Miss L/N.”

The veteran looked back and forth between you and Arthur, sitting back down while doing so. “Y’all know each other?”

“Yes. What I didn’t know is that we were still using our last names to address each other.” You said, taking another sip from your mug while Arthur sat down on a chair right next to you. “He interrupted a painting session of mine. Ever since then he won’t leave me alone.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, sweetheart.”

“Ya here to hunt, boy?” Hamish asked him.

Arthur exhaled, looking at the lake right in front of him. The way the water glimmered underneath the evening sun had him in awe. He could see the surface move every now and then, implying insects attempting to swim and fish using that to their advantage. “Nah…” He started. “Thought of something more relaxin’. Fishin’ sounds good t’me.”

“Do you want anything to drink first, Arthur?” You offered politely.

He smiled back at you, this time not trying to hide it. “Nah, thank you, darlin’.”

You got up from your chair in one swift motion, face slightly blushing from the sudden amount of pet names coming out of his mouth. Your mug was still in your hand as you took the few numbers of steps it needed to head inside the cabin. Placing it in the sink after rinsing it out with some water, you dried your hands on the cloth dangling down from the kitchen counter. You could hear Arthur and Hamish goof around, talking about fishes and different types of bait. Since Hamish knew you pretty well, you did not think it was necessary to excuse yourself to take a small nap. He would tell Arthur anyway.

Entering the small guest room that Hamish always had ready for you, felt like entering a home you wished you had. Yes, you were grateful for Hamish and he was like a father to you. But deep down, you wished he actually was. A part of you could not block out the fact that you would never be a true daughter to him. To protect yourself from those thoughts, you would travel. Out there, it was clear who was who. No wishful thinking- just facts.

…………………………………………..

The creaking of wood woke you up from your slumber. Instinctively, you first looked out the window, trying to take glimpse of the amount of light outside. ‘Hopefully it’s not nighttime yet.’ The deep orange tone in the sky implied only a few more moments that you had before it turned dark.

“Mornin’.”

You turned in bed, facing the doorframe. In front of you was Arthur, leaning on his right side, his body defined by his tight black long-sleeve shirt. The black and beige suspenders additionally helped imaging his body underneath. He was an extremely attractive man, there was no doubt about it. His hair and his stubble had a few gray hairs peeking through. He was obviously older than you. Maybe by ten, maybe by fifteen years- you did not know. A girl can still look.

“Morning? I slept maybe an hour.” You mumbled as you rubbed your slightly squinted eyes.

“Yeah, but ya sure as hell slept as deep as bear in winter. Heard ya snorin’ all the way from the boat.”

Involuntarily you let out a chuckle, too tired to come up with a remark to say back to him.

“I was lookin’ at some more art of yours. You truly got some talent, Y/N.” Arthur admitted, his eyes not leaving your frame as you were getting up from your cozy bed.

“Thank you, Arthur.” You smiled, walking to him. While passing him, you placed your hand on his shoulder in an affectionate way, lightly squeezing the muscle underneath his shirt. It felt natural to do so. You felt comfortable around him to nap, so where is the harm in a little touch? However, you sensed his body tense up somewhat once he felt your skin on his clothes.

Once leaving the cabin, you took a seat again on the chair across from Hamish’s rocking chair. Hamish himself was at the fireplace near the horses, cooking the fish he caught earlier with Arthur. Speaking of, he sat right next to you, following your gaze towards Hamish.

“Arthur?”

“Hm?”

“Who are you?”

…………………………………………..

Donner Falls had to be one of your favorite things to paint. The way the sun rays would turn the water colorful was fascinating. It was also enjoyable to use all those colors on the canvas. Waterfall paintings would sell extremely well, too. This was a win for your fun and your pockets.

“There ya are, girl.” Ah, yes, the familiar low and raspy voice of Arthur Morgan. Each time you would meet, you would get more excited. How could you not? This was the first man besides Hamish who seemed not only interested in your paintings, but in you as a person. “I missed ya at Hamish’s. He told me I’d find ya here.”

“You know, Arthur- I have a feeling that you’re not visiting Hamish to hunt, but that you’re using that as an excuse just to see me.” You smirk, eyes roaming all over the tall male who was walking painfully slow towards you.

Once he was close enough, he crouched next to your wooden stool, making him basically be on eye level with you. “Maybe I am, maybe I ain’t.” He knew what the answer was. As it may be, he was just not ready to admit it to himself. Arthur did not see himself as a good man. Finding himself be attracted to a woman who was obviously younger, did not help. He could not do that to you, or himself. For him, he was just an old man whose path was already paved.

Both of you were captivated in each others eyes while love songs of the bird filled the air. The dominant crashing noise of the water seemed to have faded. The mutual attraction was no secret, yet hiding it was the only appropriate thing to do.

“How come ya still haven’t put an animal there. Paint a deer or somethin’.” He proposed, pointing to an empty grass patch area on the canvas.

You placed a finger on top of his own, moving it down so it would not be near the painting. “I told you, Arthur, I struggle with those. Can never seem to get the proportions right.”

“I can help ya.” He dug into his pocket, pulling out a pen. “Lemme sketch it. You paint on top.” And so he did. With careful movement of his wrist, he lightly roamed over the canvas, attentive to not overshadow so you could paint over it with ease. It was quick, yet perfectly accurate.

“How did you do that?” You asked, excitement filling your voice.

Arthur put down the pen on the ground, looking back at you to create eye contact once again. “Just practice, darlin’. I could teach ya,”

You nodded and bit your lip, attempting to hide a big smile that was plastered on your face.

Arthur smiled, yet looked away as a response, admiring the landscape in front of him. You however, were still staring at him. Many questions roamed in your head. He still had not told you what exactly he did for a living, where he stayed or where he was from. But even more, there were thoughts you struggled to push away. Maybe you did not even want to push them away. Maybe they were there for a reason. And perhaps, exploring those was the way to deal with them.

- 🍯

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #paint away

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joesalw · 2 days

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ok since you said you're all for swiftie rants, i feel a bit better sending this in 😭 i'm still a fan of her music (for the most part) but her as a person? never again.

i've been a casual swiftie since i was little and since her debut. i say casual because i didn't involve myself with fandom drama. never had any fan accounts or went to concerts. i didn't obsessively follow her life. i just loved her music and she seemed like a cool person. i always looked forward to her albums and new music.

when she started dating joe, i remember liking him from the beginning. he seemed grounded and chill. and kind. and i loved that she found someone like that. that he helped her through a really difficult time in her life and career. she just had a different glow with him to me. he helped her for the better in many ways imo. then 2023 happened and i was just... very confused. i wasn't on anyone's side in the beginning, just a "they were together for so long and they're probably both hurting, i wish people would leave them alone" and then she started dating THAT man like a month after their breakup was announced. i didn't know who matty was and god i wish it stayed that way. her dating him was a big wakeup call for me to think "yk what maybe she's not as cool as you thought." that saying "show me who your friends are, and i'll tell you who you are" is true imo. i don't know how someone can be friends with let alone DATE a man who not only does this, but admitted to it and LAUGHED about getting off to black women being brutalized. and that's not even all he did, idc if it was just a "joke" or an "act." it's not fucking funny and never was.

joe got harrassed and slandered repeatedly for a whole year. multiple of his female costars/friends did too because swifties were convinced he cheated on her with them. and taylor did absolutely nothing at all to stop it. not surprising ig because she never does, but still disappointing. if anything, she encouraged it. and what do you know? she was actually the one who cheated on joe. with matty fucking healy, who she had been pining over for a decade. she was the one who left joe. all because he was "too depressed" for her. i'm sorry but i have to laugh. what is this??

as far as the album goes, personal drama aside, i did like it for the most part. wasn't my favorite but i still liked it and i would've enjoyed it A LOT more if it wasn't so on the nose about everything that happened (and yk the whole "without all the racists" line. really? after dating matty? i think you'd be pretty fine if they were there idk). i would REALLY love "guilty as sin" if i didn't know it was a confession to emotionally cheating on her bf of 6 years because he was depressed and masturbating to matty healy who's just about every ist and phobic out there. i would really love "but daddy i love him" if i didn't know it was her jumping after her fans for actually having more morals than her and calling her out for dating that man. it's just... ugh.

sorry i kinda went off there 😭 it's just really disappointing to see her act this way. thank you for this blog! it has been very helpful for me and i'm sure a lot of other fans upset with her and everything that's happened.

yup

#swiftie rants #ex swiftie rants #anti taylor swift

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tsunami-of-tears · 17 hours

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Draw me like one of your fae girls

Feyre x Reader (sapphic)

A/N: okay I may have plotted too hard before the porn

Thank you so much to ✨ anon who sent this request in. I’ve diverged a little bit, but most of your points are covered 💛

Wordcount: 2.4K

Warnings: Female reader; we have a little bit of angst/pining; smut (oral - f!receiving, fingering, soft d/s, mommy kink)

The rushing of the Sidra, a crisp breeze rustling through the trees, the soft tap of footsteps on the cobblestone streets, people laughing and chattering as they mill about. Velaris, the city for the dreamers.

I meander through the artist’s quarter, arms full of my new supplies. A big gust of wind blows down the street and I spin to shield my face, clutching the bundle close to my chest. As I turn, a sign comes into view:

“Help wanted. Any artistic experience is desirable. Enquire within.”

What are the chances? I’ve been looking for a new job, and being surrounded by art all day sounds like a dream come true. I shift my supplies into one arm and open the door.

Inside the studio is bright and welcoming. Easels line the room, some holding paintings in various stages of completion. The walls are scattered with artwork, all portraying different subjects– flowers in vases, scenes of restaurants by the Sidra, a boy throwing a ball in the park– all breathing life into the space. Vibrant, joyous life.

A high-fae female stands behind one of the easels, she has smears of yellow paint on her cheek and smock. Her grey-blue eyes are narrowed in concentration and waves of gold are tied messily in a bun on her head. She bites on her lower lip as she continues painting, her nose scrunching ever so slightly.

She is captivating.

She looks up from her work, finally noticing my presence in the room.

“Oh hello there. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you come in. My name is Feyre,” she smiles warmly at me before setting down her brush and palette. She wipes her hands on her smock, though it doesn’t help much.

“It’s okay, I just got here. I’m Y/N, I saw your sign outside.” I return Feyre’s smile, and gesture to the door behind me.

“That didn’t take long,” she laughs. “I put that sign up an hour ago. You’re an artist?”

“Yes, I paint and draw, but my preferred medium is ceramics. I like using my hands.”

“We have that in common,” she says, her smile turning slightly playful. “I’m looking for someone to assist during classes. It’s gotten so busy, which is wonderful, but my attention is stretched too thin. Do you think that’s something you’re interested in?”

I nod eagerly, “Absolutely. It’s my dream to be surrounded by art all day. Would you like to see some of my work? The sculptures are difficult to transport but I can deliver some of my sketchbooks.”

“I’d love to, but it’s not required for the position. How soon can you start?”

I blink a few times, repeating her words in my head to make sure I heard Feyre correctly. “Does next week work?”

————

I’m unpacking the fired pottery from the kiln a few months later. Feyre had bought it soon after I started working for her. With her blessing, I’d begun teaching ceramics classes. This last batch was from my regular students who attend once a week.

I’m holding the last piece when Feyre enters. “Wow, these are amazing. You’re doing so well with the students,” she beams.

“It’s all them,” I respond, setting down the pot carefully.

“Don’t do that,” Feyre tuts. “You’re a great teacher and I’m thrilled to have you working with me.”

“Thanks, Feyre. I really love it. It’s so rewarding.”

“I’m still waiting on my personal lesson though,” she laughs. “Are you still up for drinks tonight?”

“Definitely. I just need to reload the kiln, the next batch should be dry enough.”

————

Feyre and I walked to the bar arm-in-arm, already giggling at each other and we hadn’t started drinking yet. Since I joined Feyre’s studio, we’ve developed a close friendship, though a small piece of my heart yearns for more.

She’s mated, I remind myself for the hundredth time.

As we enter the dimly lit bar, Ressina spots us, calling us over to her booth. I take a seat next to another instructor, Coral, and Feyre slides in beside me. Across from us sits Ressina and her partner, Pollux.

Ressina had bought a round of drinks for our group just before we arrived. We raise our glasses, clinking them together in cheers before taking a sip.

“Coral was just telling us about her hot date last night,” Ressina explains.

“Don’t sound so excited,” Pollux says sarcastically.

“Oh it’s just fun, we have to live vicariously through our single friends. Feyre gets it, right?” Ressina gestures vigorously towards Feyre.

“Oh actually,” Feyre says, “I might be back on the market.” She takes a casual sip from her drink, as if she had just said the most mundane sentence in the world.

My jaw drops and my eyes widen in alarm. Across the table, our friends are sporting similar expressions. No one saw that coming.

“Oh no, not like that!” She quickly reassures us. “Rhys and I are quite happy, we’re just finding it a bit… stagnant. We’ve discussed it at length, and have decided to open our marriage one weekend every month.”

“Wow Feyre,” Coral says. “Are you and Rhys equally excited about that?”

Feyre smiles, looking down at her glass, the flush on her cheeks deepening in colour. “We’ve both got different reasons for wanting it but yes, we are. I’ve had my eye on someone,” Feyre’s gaze meets mine for a split second, “and Rhys knew that. It took a lot of conversations to figure out our boundaries, and they’ll likely evolve over time, but we’re taking the first step.”

“Well congratulations,” Pollux says, raising his glass before taking a swig.

“Thank you,” Feyre says, her eyes finding mine again. I can detect a hint of… longing? Surely not. This wine must be going straight to my head.

The rest of the night goes on without a hitch. We drink and talk and dance until late into the night when we stumble out of the bar, waving goodbye to our friends who are heading in the opposite direction. Feyre’s arm is wrapped over my shoulders as I do my best to keep her upright.

“Mmms love you, Y/N,” Feyre slurs, drawing out the syllables of my name.

“I love you too, Fey,” I answer, quickly grabbing her forearm to stop her falling to the ground.

“You’re the bestest,” she sighs, slumping in my arms.

Just as I’m wondering how we’re going to walk home, the darkness in front of us ripples, revealing Feyre’s mate.

“Feyre Darling,” Rhys coos, scooping her into his arms like she weighs nothing; a stark contrast to my earlier struggles. Feyre wraps her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder. My heart constricts at the sight.

“Perfect timing,” I smile tightly in an attempt to hide my true feelings.

“The bond was muffled and I got worried, though I now understand why,” Rhys explains.

Right, the bond.

“You must be Y/N,” Rhys continues. “She talks about you often.” He smiles, looking down at the female cradled in his arms. “Thank you for taking care of her, do you need to be dropped home?”

“No, thank you. The walk will sober me up.”

“Of course, I’m sure we’ll meet again at some point. Goodnight, Y/N.” Rhys inclines his head before disappearing into the night with Feyre safely in his arms.

The walk home certainly was sobering. How could I be silly enough to believe she thought of me in any light other than as a friend? Surely she meant she was opening her marriage to other males. Not me.

————

A few weeks after our night out, I’ve finally given in to teaching Feyre how to use a pottery wheel. She’d been gushing over my latest collection all week - a series of vases celebrating the divine feminine, the Mother. She was dying to get her hands dirty, quite literally.

The reason I was hesitant to teach Feyre wasn’t because of her artistic talents. No, I hadn’t stopped thinking about her confession. I hadn’t stopped hoping she meant me.

Feyre is perched on a stool across from me, the pottery wheel in between us with a lump of earthenware clay. Feyre had quickly picked up how to work the peddle, now she just needed to use her hands to shape the clay.

She put her fingers into the centre of the ball like I demonstrated, easing the sides outwards as it spins. As she concentrates, her nose scrunches up and she bites her lip. It’s the same face she always makes when she’s engrossed in creating something.

“It keeps getting wider, how do I make it go back in again?” Feyre asks.

“Here,” I put my wet hands on top of Feyre’s, helping her ease the clay in the direction she wanted. “Perfect,” I smile. Feyre looks up from her work to smile back at me. With her focus shifted, her foot slips and the wheel spins out, spraying both of us with muddy water. We both erupt in giggles as we look at the mess covering each other.

“And I thought painting was a messy hobby,” Feyre laughs.

————

Feyre finished her creation - a simple round vase that she has plans to paint once it’s fired.

The two of us are cleaning up our tools and hands in the large basin. The laughter from earlier is gone, leaving us with a comfortable silence.

Feyre sighs, “It’s the last weekend of the month.”

“I do have a calendar,” I tease.

“No I mean, it’s the weekend Rhys and I decided on.”

“Oh,” I say quietly. “Do you have anything planned?”

“I have someone I’d like to ask, but I’ve been a bit worried about how they’ll react,” Feyre admits.

My heart breaks a little bit at her admission. “You do not need to be worried, you’re gorgeous. I doubt anyone could reject you.”

“I guess,” Feyre sighs.

The silence has now grown deafening between you.

Finally, Feyre breaks it.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asks.

“Hey, I thought we were talking about you here!” I exclaim.

“We still are. I was hoping you’d like to join me.”

Oh.

OH.

Blood rushes to my cheeks, and I know my mouth has fallen open.

I look down, unable to meet her gaze as my heart races, the sound pounding in my ears. “Yeah, I would like that,” I respond.

————

Kissing Feyre was everything.

Soft lips against mine. Soft hair between my fingers.

Her scent is dizzying.

This kiss is all-consuming.

Every thought, every touch, it’s all her.

Slowly, her hands slip down my body. Brushing down my neck, grazing over my breasts.

We’re in her townhouse. I’m lying on the couch with Feyre on top of me, her thighs on either side of my hips.

We barely made it through the front door before our hands and lips were all over each other.

Feyre sits up, panting as she regains her breath. She peels off her top, throwing it to the side before doing the same with mine.

“I can’t believe you asked,” I say, propping myself up on my elbows.

“I can’t believe you said yes,” she retorts, leaning down to kiss me again.

Feyre kisses down my exposed neck, teasing along my collarbone, surely littering my skin with marks.

She keeps kissing lower, taking one of my hardened nipples into her mouth and sucking. She takes the other between her thumb and finger, pinching softly. I gasp at the sensation, my hips roll, desperately begging for more.

Feyre hums against my chest, nipple still in her mouth as she grazes it with her teeth, eliciting another gasp from me.

“You make such pretty sounds,” she says, swinging her leg over my body to stand on the floor. Feyre extends her hand for me to take. “Let’s go somewhere with more room, I want to explore every inch of you.”

I take her hand, following her upstairs to the bedroom.

We remove the rest of our clothes before Feyre motions for me to lie in the centre of the wide bed. She crawls between my legs, her face hovering centimetres above mine, her hand gentle against my cheek.

Feyre leans down to kiss me again. Each stroke of her tongue is intentional.

I wonder what that tongue would feel like in other places.

I’m not left wondering for long as Feyre moves down my body. She pauses above my exposed sex, stroking down the outside of my thighs.

“So pretty,” she says. “May I?”

“Please,” I moan.

“Such good manners too baby,” Feyre purrs, dipping her head between my legs.

She starts slow, lapping at me like a cat laps at milk.

My hips start rolling and she presses them down firmly.

“So responsive,” she laughs and I whine at the loss of contact.

Feyre goes in with her fingers next, softly tracing along my clit at an agonising pace.

I moan as the strokes turn to circles, giving me even more friction. My eyes close, allowing my body to focus on the feeling.

“I like that noise,” she says, “but what sound do you make when I do this–” Her fingers slide down inside me and she starts to fuck me slowly. My moans get even louder as she starts to curl her fingers, hitting my sweet spot. I writhe beneath her fingers and she starts to pick up her pace.

“You’re doing so good baby, tell Mommy how good it feels,” Feyre says, lowering her mouth to my clit once again.

“Mmmm Mommy, feels so good. Mm so close.” I babble, eyes rolling as Feyre’s tongue circles my clit in tandem with her fingers.

“Cum for me baby,” Feyre says, her fingers keeping their steady pace.

A few more hard thrusts are all it takes to send me barrelling over the edge, crying out as the waves of pleasure roll over me.

“Such a good girl,” Feyre says, slowing her thrusts as I ride out the high.

My body stills as Feyre crawls beside me, wrapping her arms around me. She softly kisses the top of my head as I sigh contentedly.

“How are you feeling?” Feyre asks.

“Phenomenal.”

Feyre laughs at my answer. “Are you tired, or do you want to keep going?” she questions.

“I’m not even close to being done, it’s your turn.”

“Well then, come here and show Mommy some appreciation.”

“Gladly.”

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #requests #feyre archeron #feyre x reader #feyre x y/n #feyre oneshot #acotar #acomaf #feyre smut

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phoebepheebsphibs · 1 day

Text

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 20: Robotics

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

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Mikey moans as he wakes with a headache. His nose is stuffed up and his limbs are plagued by a dull ache. Donnie is by his side in an instant, smiling at him as he presses a glass of water to his lips, forcing him to hydrate.

"Good morning, Angelo," he says.

Angelo? His name is Mikey...

"How are you feeling?"

Mikey groans wordlessly at him.

"You ready for some breakfast?"

"Mikey doesn't get out of bed today," he announces grumpily, pressing his face deeper into the pillow.

Donnie rubs his cranium, pressing his palm against Mikey's forehead as he checks for any remaining fever.

"Hmm. I guess you're right, you won't be getting out of bed today," Donnie states, placing the cup on a side table and turning the lights off. "You get some more rest and join us whenever you're ready, okay?"

Mikey nods with a yawn, shimmying deeper under the blankets and purring with contentment.

"Leo or Raph will be in with your memory medication from Draxum. But other than that, I guess nothing eventful or interesting will be happening today," Donnie says as he walks out of Mikey's room.

Professor Honeycutt is sitting in his labs, silently working on a new droid design. This one is different from the other machines he's been forced to build while employed here. All the other designs were weapons, or used to create chaos, or made to hurt the experiments (with one in particular in mind). But this one will be a sentry guard. A protector. SENTRY AUTOMATIC LIFESAVER. He's nicknamed it 'SAL' for now.

The body of the machine is finished for the most part. He's still working on the arms, trying to create a spring mechanism that can cause them to stretch to extreme lengths without breaking. He'd also like to add the same kind of metallic-elastic springs to the legs, even though he's already finished with those. But hey, he doesn't mind working on them again! Anything to avoid the real thing that's stumping him.

Honeycutt is struggling with the robot's AI, specifically its moral center and higher reasoning. He never got around to finishing the moral center for the last AI he built, and now it's starting to unnerve him. He can program the three laws of robotics, but he knows that sometimes you need to make a decision that disregards logic. He's seen movies. They may be inaccurate, but he'd have to agree with a few points they make.

So he's procrastinating on the brain. Well, there is a brain in the head, but it doesn't have any information in it, apart from some basic codes for movement and functions.

Most days, Zayton doesn't even know why he's here. He joined the EPF for the funding, plain and simple. The cause sounded good, and they would help pay for all his robotics and engineering. He had all the money and freedom he could ever want to 'play with his toys'. What could be better? He should have known it was too good to be true. After a month of getting to build whatever he wanted in a secret bunker off the coast of Buffalo, he was called in to help with some work in NYC. And now... he's stuck doing this. Building ice blasters and dart guns and training robots that fight you to the death.

He's a man of peace.

But lately, he's been confusing 'peace' with 'staying out of it'.

Honeycutt's phone buzzes. It's probably another order from Timothy, or Chaplin wants help with the A.LP.H.A. device, or something just as irritating and dangerous.

"Hello, this is Professor Zayton Honeycutt speaking."

"Hey, doc, it's Bishop."

Honeycutt drops his tools and quiets his voice.

"Ah, John. H-how nice to hear from you again... how are the plans for your -- ahem, 'mother's recovery'?"

The two of them have come up with a special code to talk about Mikey without attracting attention.

"We still don't have any information about her condition. But I think she's still with her 'extended family'."

Mikey is still hidden in the sewers with the other mutants like him.

"Have the doctors found anything?"

"Not to my knowledge. But I heard that they did an 'impromptu check-up', and I should be hearing more about that later."

They sent drones into the sewer tunnels. As to be expected.

"When do you suppose that they'll tell you the details of that check-up?"

"No idea. I get the feeling that I'll have to make some calls to a few nurses..."

"Well, if it helps, I could ask around."

Bishop's voice goes quiet.

"...Doc, I don't know if that's wise..."

"Why not? I built those dro-- ahem, I mean, I know a few nurses in the clinic. I could get some answers for you."

The line stays silent for a moment before Bishop answers.

"...Okay, Doc. Just... be careful."

"Of course!" Honeycutt chuckles nervously. "Don't even worry. But, eh, speaking of your mother, I was wondering how the 'quilt' she's sewing is coming along?"

The 'quilt' is code for their side project. Most of the experiments and actions of the EPF scientista here are unsanctioned and illegal, covered up under all the red tape and paperwork and made to look as though they are for the 'greater good'. Bishop and Honeycutt have been working to find evidence of all the mutations and genetic experiments and legal workarounds that they've done here.

"I've been getting some more 'thread' for her."

Paper trails.

"Does she need any 'fabrics'? I know she was looking for some nice patterns, last time we spoke."

Photographic evidence of the animals or krang parasites.

"She could use some later. But for now, she's worried that she might be overspending."

Bishop is afraid that they've attracted attention, he wants Honeycutt to lay low.

"Okay then. Tell her I said hello."

"Will do. And Doc? Really, be careful. I don't want you getting sick like my mother."

"...I thank you for the concern, John. It's very decent of you. But I should be fine. I'll look into the... ahem, check-up results for you."

"Thanks. I'll be in touch."

The call ends.

Honeycutt exhales loudly, hoping that by the time all the used air in his lungs escapes him, he'll have also rid himself of the stress that lingers in him.

It doesn't.

Honeycutt lets S.A.L. rest on his desk. He stretches, cracking his spine and wrists before he walks out of his private workshop and into the halls. He could use an extra cup of coffee. He knows that he should try sleeping for once, but he can't really waste time right now. He has so much work to do, and now that Bishop recruited him he's busier than ever. It's a worthy cause and a noble sacrifice that he's more than willing to make.

Honeycutt walks through the halls, flinching at every door that opens and hurrying along his way. Every scientist that greets him with a wave or conversation starter, he simply hustles by them with a nod. He's never felt comfortable in this complex before, but now he's constantly unnerved.

Honeycutt shuffles into the elevator, down to the cafeteria to get a quick cup of joe, and back up to the security room. He considers stopping at the animal sections to see if he can grab any blood samples or photographic evidence... but Bishop is concerned, and the man has a surprising track record when it comes to following his gut. Maybe later... if he can find an excuse. A technical professor suddenly interested in genetics and bloodwork? Suspicious... but, maybe he can come up with some link between his work and the genetic studies... a robot that tracks DNA? Perfect! Only issue would be whether or not they'd buy it. A few might. But the big wigs in charge would ask questions. And Timothy and Chaplin might be against it, saying that none of the experiments can keep up against his tech thus far, so making a robot that advanced would be fruitless... he'll have to think of something else...

Prof. Honeycutt arrives at the security room, takes a quick swig of his black coffee for good measure, and then opens the door.

"Ms. Campbell," he greets flatly. "How are things?"

"Events are transpiring at a typical function and rate," she responds with a similar tone. "And I am working at full capacity, if that was what you were asking about."

"Thank you for the update," he says, moving beside her to watch the cameras. "How's the search for the escapee?"

"Still underway, but halted for the time being. Our drones discovered some odd wreckage in the tunnels, what looks like the ruins of someone's living quarters."

"Someone living in the sewers?" Honeycutt asks, feigning surprise.

"I detect sarcasm, unless I am mistaken," Ms. Campbell says, turning to look at him. "You knew beforehand about this?"

"Word gets around," he replies nervously. "I just wanted to know if it was true that there was something there. I'd heard that we were sending in drones -- and you know New York gossip, everyone thinks that there's some mysterious society of monsters living underneath us. And what with those mutants we've seen... I figured that perhaps one of them had made a shelter down there, possibly even our own little Mikey!"

Honeycutt realises that he's been prattling. It's a nervous trait. Ms. Campbell knows that. She can detect all sorts of tics and traits and habits and quirks. She has an incredible poker face, and she is a living lie detector.

She watches him, eyes analyzing every bead of sweat he creates.

"You are nervous."

"Q-quite so," he chuckles. "I'm just... concerned for Mikey."

That answer seems to satiate Ms. Campbell... for the moment. She turns around and starts to type something on the keyboard, and one of the screens plays glitchy feedback from a drone.

"Perhaps this will put you at ease, father," she says. "We found him."

Honeycutt watches in shock as a drone flies around the wreckage of a large opening in a sewer, complete with burst pipes, crumbled archways, and even broken down arcade games, though glory knows where those came from. On the walls are smeared paintings and spraypaint, words like 'cowabunga' and 'turtle power!' are scrawled across the stonework along with smiley faces, drawings of interesting action heroes and poses, and... what looks like portraits of turtles dressed as superheroes or ninjas. The drone flies through after looking around, hurrying down a corridor. After a several minutes of endless catacombs and passageways, it comes up to a light where the tunnels meet an abandoned section of the subways. The drone continues following a glow that leads to a secret hidden entrance. The drone presses itself up against the wall, waiting. After a few minutes, someone emerges from the door, peeking around. It's not Mikey, but...

"Is... is that...?"

"Another mutant creature like the escaped experiment, yes."

The creature looks down the halls nervously, before looking up behind him and shouting in fright as something dark green with yellow spots drops down on top of him. A flash of blue and the two vanish completely.

"What was that?!" Honeycutt yells, almost spilling his coffee as he moves closer to the video feed.

"Undetermined. But there have been reports of vigilantes that 'pop in and out' of crime scenes, fighting against the mutant outbreak. It is possible that he is one of said vigilantes," Ms. Campbell says. "And that is not all..."

Ms. Campbell speeds the playback to a moment several minutes later, when a human boy comes out of the entrance searching for something. He sees the drone and shouts, activating a high-tech chainsaw device and swings it at the drone, slashing it off the wall and shattering it completely.

"That was a human," Honeycutt says with hushed astonishment.

Bishop said that Mikey was with his 'family', so he sort of knew about the other mutants... but that was a human kid!

"I have been trying to run facial recognition on him to no avail," Ms. Campbell says. "He seems to have no identity."

In her voice, there is a twinge of disappointment, or rather, irritation with the failure. It shouldn't surprise him, he made her with the intention of resembling human in almost every aspect, so her exercise of emotions is not unprecedented. But the attitude, the dark personality lingering under the fake skin and steel grey eyes... that frightens him. Her AI was never completed, at least not in the ways he wanted. But she seems to be growing, evolving, learning. He didn't put that in there.

"Have... have you sent any more drones?" he asks, swallowing the nervous pit in his stomach every time he's with Ms. Campbell.

"Yes. But there seems to be some kind of electromagnetic field surrounding the area now, and any drone that crosses the threshold deactivates and short-circuits."

"Do we know why?"

"They mutants must be protecting their habitat," she states, going back to the original security footage. "But now that we know where they are, it is only a matter of time before we can discover more about their numbers and motives."

Honeycutt watches the screens at the bottom of the video stack, the ones with live drone feed. Three new devices are being sent to the previous drone's last known location. They fly up until a certain point before the feed warps into static and the drones crash, their live recordings die out with a high-pitched whine and crackle.

"I suppose I should contact Dr. Chaplin to make a new plan for the onset for the escaped experiment... Unless you have some theories, father?"

She still calls him father. All his creations tend to do that, he's noticed. But he's not sure how to feel about her calling him that. It feels eerie that she does, but the day she stops referring to him as such will be even scarier.

"I... couldn't say... p-perhaps I could create a device to counter the firewall?" he suggests. "Or maybe we could--"

The screens suddenly all glitch in unison, flashing quickly before turning a single shade of purple. Each monitor works in perfect harmony to create a large, singular image.

Professor Honeycutt steps back in shock. Ms. Campbell tilts her head slightly.

A series of words appear on the screen.

LEAVE US ALONE.

"Ominous," Ms. Campbell states calmly. "And quite interesting. I cannot say that the EPF has ever had any hackers before..."

The screens go dead, the room engulfed in darkness.

Before Honeycutt can say anything, a soft grey pixely static shows up on the screens, brightening the room again in time. The camera feeds return -- save for the drones, which still give no output nor input.

"I would say those vigilante mutants could be classified as hostile, wouldn't you agree?" Ms. Campbell says, turning to Honeycutt.

"Er, um, perhaps," he says nervously, loosening his shirt collar. "But you know me, I prefer to play the Switzerland of these mutant affairs. I'd rather stay out of it. I might suggest we do the same with these drones spies --"

"Why?" she asks, suspicion in her voice.

"Well, see... these mutants see us as an invading force. When an animal believes its habitat to be encroached upon, it will go to great lengths to defend it. These mutants may be doing the same thing, which could end badly for us..."

Ms. Campbell thinks it over.

"They have already fled one habitat," she responds. "So, in your scientific understanding, would they choose fight or flight over this new habitat they've created?"

"I-I'm not sure, animal science is not my area of expertise, but --" he swallows. "-- b-but I would assume that they would prefer to keep their new abode. Considering the lengths they've gone to thus far, they will not give it up easily."

"Hmm. Then this shall be a challenge, eh, father?"

Ms. Campbell smiles cruely.

He's never seen her do that.

"Q-q-quite so," he mumbles as he stumbles out of the room. "I should head back to work now... s-see you later, Ms. Campbell..."

His hand shakes, splashing the coffee in his cup. He's had enough of this for one day... he needs to call Bishop.

Honeycutt may not have the gut instincts that Bishop does, but something is telling him that things are about to get a lot more dangerous...

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writeywritey-o3o · 2 days

Text

Double Trouble

Ascended Astarion fanfic

- Angsty, Reincarnation, beyond saving, tw:suicide

It had been centuries since Astarion and you ruled the world together as The Ascendent and his Favourite Consort.

It was nice, at first. Never having to go outside, never having to go hungry, and never fearing death. Astarion had given you all the riches he had promised, everything and anything you desired. Outfits, jewellery, sprawling palaces. You had it all, especially with your love always right beside you. Until he wasn’t.

More often than not, he would go out to run errands, or take over new lands. He would sometimes come back with 1 or more new spawns hanging on his arm, either for the two of you to use or feed on. As much as the unhappy feeling threatens to bubble up inside you when he ignores you for a menial task, you really couldn’t ask for anything more.

Sometimes you try your luck at asking him to make you a true vampire just like he is, but he always reassures you that there is no need to. Not when you had literally hundreds of servants at your beck and call for whatever you could possibly need. You would tell him how much you missed the sunlight on your face, and the hustle bustle of the city at midday. He usually scoffs and tells you that you aren’t missing much. That staying inside and twiddling away with your hobbies is the best you can do, and laments about how he wishes he could stay inside all day, that even though he can't be burned by the sun anymore, the sweltering heat it brings is barely a consolation prize.

It reached a point where he made sure every corridor of the sprawling palace you lived in had skylights that were unable to be closed. and had you shunned to one of the rooms during the day and would only come to you at night, almost like he was rubbing it in as to how you couldn’t even stand under the sky without assistance while he came and went as he pleased.

Slowly you grow tired. Traversing the palace with the help of one of your servants no longer became an issue because you never leave your room. He becomes impatient and demanding, throwing more luxuries at you to make you ‘go back to how you were’. You ignore everything until one day he catches you trying to open the blinds in daylight. He went insane and had you chained to the centre of the room. The chains were long enough for you to just barely reach the heavy drapes. He told you that since you wanted to act like a child then he would give you what you wanted, to never leave that room again.

You still had the servants, and the decadent meals, and the finest dresses and beds in all the land, but you weren’t happy. Every day seemed to go by in a blur, with him coming in at dusk to dine with you silently, and then again at dawn for more of the same.

Day by day the soft glow of sunlight around the drapes seemed more and more inviting. Everything could be over in one swoop, if you could just break these chains.

A shatter spell could do just fine.

But you weren’t a spell caster. You trained your whole life to be a heavy hitter, often killing enemies in a single blow. But ever since you became a spawn you’ve neglected your training, becoming weaker over the years. The cuffs on your wrist rub your skin raw, even through the plush and silk he had custom made to ‘not damage his perfect little spawn’.

You decided enough was enough and started to train in the hours he left you alone. You requested libraries worth of books from your servants, all kinds so as not to raise suspicion and began your work. He noticed the difference and yet the silence during meal times remained.

“Don't you want to know about my day?” he once asked.

You only replied with a bland repeat of his question, not even bothering to listen to his answer. That infuriated him. He pulled a dagger on you and threatened to cut your pretty throat open and bring you back just to show you how lucky and ungrateful you were being. When your reaction wasn’t up to par, he trashed your room and commanded a few spawn to clean up afterwards. You could hear the screams of the spawn suffering at his hands because of you the rest of the day.

Soon at long last the day had arrived. Your scroll had been scribed and all you had to do was use it. You had wanted to enact your plan at midday, quietly while he was out. But you realised the sound the spell made would attract people anyway, so you decided on a different plan.

In the few hours before he would come in at dawn you had grabbed the candelabra in the middle of the dining table you had in the room and set fire to anything and everything you could. Once you were certain people were taking notice, hearing their footsteps nearing the room, you stood as close to the window as you could, setting the spell off, breaking your chains and flinging open the drapes and the windows as the man himself burst through the doors. He paused at the sight of your room, burned and smokey, just barely making out your silhouette by the window. The first rays of the sun broke through the horizon as he ran through the fire to you.

For a moment, you saw the man you fell in love with in his eyes. Astarion. you whisper a final “I Love You” to that man as the sun catches on you. You revel in the pricking of your skin as you feel the sunlight for the first time in centuries, turning you to ash before blowing away into the wind.

He reached you just a second too late, touching your hand as you crumbled away, leaving only your dress and jewels behind.

______________________________________________________________________________

you reincarnated into someone else and you are on a quest to take down The Ascendant.

______________________________________________________________________________

When you opened your eyes for the first time again, you were in a raggedy old bathtub in a barn. Confused and wet. You don't remember anything from those formative years but you knew what mattered. You were loved.

When you were young, The Ascendant came and took over your town. It was fine at first, until people started going missing. Everyone started to live in fear of being the next one to be kidnapped. It wasn't like no one knew where the people had ended up, but no one wanted to find out either. There were a brave few, who ventured far to his palace on their own to take down The Ascendent, but they never returned.

You weren't born a cleric, or even to parents who were clerics. When you were 15 Jergal came to you in a dream. Appointing you his cleric, and honestly, you just went with it. Jergal was a mostly hands-off patron god, letting you learn whatever you please and bestowing you new powers to train up every now and then while you offered up prayers.

You tried to live quietly, keeping your head down and working your days away praying to Jergal and helping at your parents’ apothecary. You never let your anger spill out, not even to your patron god. It wasn't until one of your friend’s little brothers was taken before you lashed out. You and Your friends agreed to form a party and take him down. You prayed to Jergal, asking him for strength to carry this out. He gave you a blessing in the form of a dagger.

He was a tyrant, a psychopath. The Ascendant had ruled for long enough. With Jergal’s blessing, you and your party set out to train and take down the Ascendant’s forces slowly.

You and your party enter the city at which he resided after a long and gruelling journey, in his hilltop palace looking down on everyone. The city was grey and foggy in the early morning. You find a place to settle in for the night, taking a long, needed rest after your travels.

The next morning your party agrees to explore the city for supplies and take a few days to prepare before going in to finish your quest and free the world.

Around the city were many many statues of The Ascendant himself. Which was expected from a man with such a big ego, but other than that, there were many statues of a woman. Her eyes were soft and kind, her hair blowing eternally in the wind, she was dressed to the nines looking endlessly regal. Who was she? Your party members comment on the uncanny resemblance between the two of you, but you brush it off.

You and your party sneak into the Ascendant’s palace, snooping around to learn the layout. All of you enter from different places in pairs to cover more ground. You decided to sneak into the only open window, while the other half of your party members sneak in through the servants quarters.

The open window led to a room that seemed unfit for a palace. It was black and scorched, a big crater centred the room. Everything else was burned. You and your pair looked around. Where the crater was an ornate coffin, labelled with a scratched out name. Opening the coffin revealed a beautiful dress and jewels. It was probably the most expensive thing you’ve ever seen. Snooping around the rest of the room uncovered half burned letters and books. whoever lived here really wanted to learn how to scribe spell scrolls, and with the crater at the centre of the room, you knew what spell they were trying to scribe. Metal bits sprinkled the floor and the letters seemed to be addressed to what seemed to be a long lost lover.

Exiting the room, you see what you would more expect from a palace. Gleaming marble floors and columns. Portraits of the same beautiful woman you’d seen statues of all around the city. Some of them were even of the woman pictured next to The Ascendant himself.

Who was she?

The older portraits of them together pictured them smiling at each other. Were they in love? The portraits with newer frames looked sad. The Ascendant wasn't looking at her anymore, his face became more and more serious, and her expression followed in suit. The newest portrait you saw was the one in the foyer, once you made your way there. The man in the portrait looked like a ghost at this point. His skin was a sickly white, his eyes sunken in and red, his clothes were a dark red and black. This man seemed a far cry from the earlier paintings you saw. Even the last painting that showed him with the woman was at least a bit brighter than this. You skulked around the rest of the palace, killing spawns who witnessed your machinations and meeting up with the rest of your party.

When you made your way out of the palace, having mapped out the entire thing and learning where the best entrances and exits are, you decided to exit through the window you had entered. The others in your party snooped around the room a little, revealing a smaller frame covered by a leather cloth that seemed too new for the state of the room. It was a sketch. A sketch of The Ascendant and the woman. A caption was scrawled across the corner of the paper “To my dearest friends. Who could be more in love than them.”

In love.

The pair of them had been in love.

Now the letters made more sense. The lover was him. He had changed and his lover no longer recognised him. Someone made a comment about how he’d surely been the one to drive her away while all of you snuck out the window. There was a peculiar ache in your heart when you saw that picture, one that you couldn't put into words. It was almost like you were mourning, but over what?

You spent the rest of your preparation time studying the ascendant. his strengths, weaknesses, his history. His name. The more you read about him the more you felt like you knew him. He defeated his master, Cazador, with his party and his lover. He learnt of the runes in his back and took his master’s place and ascended. Becoming who he is now. The city and everywhere else withered in his rule. He only knew how to take, to consume all there was and leave nothing behind. And you had a feeling he did the same to his lover. Who he named his favourite spawn, his favourite consort, yet never his queen.

A few days later you returned to the palace, all of you prepared to take down the tyrant. All of you decided that you would sneak in through the main gates, killing anyone in your way until you reached him.

But the gates were open. and the halls were empty. The four of you made your way deeper into the palace, expecting an ambush, all in vain. When the four of you reached the ritual chambers, he was alone. Sitting on a throne atop what seemed like his coffin. You hung back, letting your party go ahead with hits before you went forward to heal them and get a few hits in yourself.

“Did you really think you could come into my house, poke around, and I wouldn't notice?” his voice rang in the room loud and clear, “I'll give the three of you credit, you are brave. But you're not the first to try, and you won't be the last to fail.”

Three? He must have not seen you yet.

He offered your party to fight them 3 on 1, winner takes all. Your friends sprung into action throwing spells and hitting him one after the other using up spell slots and energy and getting hit in return. Even as he was being hit, he still went on, telling your party how generous he is, how nice, how brave, how considerate, how much he sacrificed to get to this point. As you watched the fight while healing your friends every so often, you notice he didn't really have any defensive advances. He lets himself get hit multiple times, and only shoots back with offensive spells and blows.

Your party was fading fast, and from your semi hidden position you couldn't heal them up quick enough. At some point you slipped, and all your friends were down.

“One more is there? Well come out little mouse, take your turn.” you could hear the laugh bubble up his throat, talking down to you, “I'll even let you start real close.”

As egotistic as he sounded, you knew he was weakened. One more spell could do it. One that wouldn’t miss.

You slowly came out of your hiding space. Tentatively walking towards him, making sure not to get too close while quietly preparing the spell you knew would take him out, Shatter.

When you finally stepped into the light, you let the spell lose from your lips as you watched his own move incomprehensibly. Had he whispered a name? His eyes widened and in a split second the spell hit him, injuring him enough for him to explode into his gaseous form and fly back into his coffin. The floor cratered around where he stood and all was quiet.

You took a moment to collect yourself, and jumped into healing your companions. Once they were up and walking, the four of you made your way to the coffin beneath the throne and opened it, ready to stake him, to end it all for good. But he wasn't there.

“If this wasn't his coffin then, where is it?”

“This palace is huge, it would take us days to find his coffin. and by then he would have regenerated. Lets…”

Your companions’ words were lost as you thought to yourself as to where his coffin could be. In the dungeons? His own quarters? On the roof?

No.

The burnt room. The coffin in the middle of the crater. It had to be that. It was not broken like the floor beneath it.

You lept to your feet, telling your party you knew where it should be. There were some disagreements however, so all of you agreed to split up. You spent the rest of your spell slots and healing potions healing everyone and you set off.

Running through the halls hit you with deja vu, but you’d never been in this palace even before coming in to snoop, so what was that? You followed the portraits and reached your destination. You opened the door and stepped inside. The room looked the same as how you left it.

Carefully you made your way to the crater, a glint caught your eye, coming from a hole between the coffin’s lid and body.

Pushing the lid off the coffin this time reveals a dark red heart, around it gold wisps of light floated around in the shape of a man. You remembered how he looked at you before you hit him. His eyes looked so familiar for a second you thought you were looking at the sketch of him and his lover. Happy and blissful. It was like all his defences dropped and he didn't even try to counter your spell. His real name slipped from your lips before you could stop it.

You unsheathed the dagger Jergal gave you after that and positioned it over the heart. It all ends now.

Piercing his heart, the gold whisps dropped away in what sounded like a relieved sigh. The tears running down your face made you uneasy, why were you even crying over a monster. You knelt next to the coffin taking in everything that just happened, all that you learnt in the past few days.

Soon the footsteps of your party neared you. You stood to face them and all of you burst out laughing. It was all over.

You spent the rest of the day looting the rest of the building before painstakingly filling every crevice of the palace with explosives, with one specifically right above the coffin with your dagger still embedded.

Your party gave you the pleasure of lighting the first barrel to blow up the whole place. you took a few moments to send a prayer up to your patron god, Jergal. And spent a few moments sitting with unfamiliar feelings of mourning for this building, for the spawns inside that would perish with it, and for the sketch still hung up in the room. Because whoever was in that picture was forever gone, both of them.

Whispering a cantrip, you put an end to this story, even if you aren't sure when it really started.

Ignis.

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