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#hasten replies
yudonomi · 2 years
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our boi rodi for the blorbo bingo
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this man can barely look after himself why does the universe keep throwing kids at him hes lucky theyre semi-immortal nations or he’d like. lock himself in the piano room for three days focusing on a song and forget to feed himself and the kid also locked up in their room for three days focusing on a painting (kugelmugel)
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revvnant · 5 months
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A bunch of wind up music men start approaching Michael. Mother.
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my beautiful children cheeseburger and fries and milkshake and soda...
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screampied · 26 days
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Hey vegas baby, so lil request if you don’t mind, imagine riding Sukuna and he is slapping your face urging you to go faster, and you slapping him back and laughing in his face 🤭 like he is in shock because how dare you, but in the same time he is like “ok girl, I’m intrigued” 🤨
Love you and your works 🤎
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❤︎ ໋𓈒 sukuna getting turned on at you being a brat
warnings. fem! reader, cowgirl, praise, degradation, impact play, unprotected, choking, overstim. an. thank u luv u2!!!!
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sukuna would be laid back with the most smuggest expression on his face — he noticed how you’d always halt your hips a little, slowing down the moment you were getting close.
he tsks, bringing a big hand to grip your chin before giving you a few smacks. “awwww,” he’d coo, feeling your hips try to keep up its repetitive jerking. he was just teasing you, giving you another light tap on your cheek before your bottom lip quavered. you felt yourself reaching close, your legs felt like complete mush before you whimpered. “don’t tell me the big girl’s tapping out already. what happened to ridin’ me until my eyes rolls back?” and sukuna sneers once he sees your cute glare. “i was rooting for you, princess.”
“s-shut up, ‘kuna.” you’d gnaw on your bottom lip, and he stares at you with a smirk. knowing him, he’d probably reply with the obvious, ‘make me’ to which he did. as you made him lean back just a bit more, your hand ends up lightly going against his face.
sukuna’s stunned for a moment before he jibes. he brings both big hands towards the edges of your waist, pressing his thumbs into them before snarling lowly.
“hm. did you just slap me?” and whilst he said that, you felt yourself pulse — not a heartbeat but a familiar pulse that was located between your legs. not waiting for an answer, he snickers, grabbing your chin once more before he spats, “oh. don’t look away from me now. do it again. ‘n just a heads up, if you’re gonna smack me at least do it harder, little girl.”
“i’m not gonna do it again because you’re gonna e-enjoy it.” you moaned, feeling him use his hands to make your hips rock against him again. it felt so good . . the stimulation, whilst you grind against him, your knees felt weak. each buckle, you heard an echoe through your ears ring the more and more you felt yourself getting close.
“yeah ‘m gonna e-enjoy it,” he mocks your little weak stutter, dragging a thumb towards your upper lip. he snickers, pulling you into a quick kiss before humming. “c’monnn, no eye contact either? such a shy baby.”
you continue to glare at him. making a cute attempt at moving your hips again — but he reached so deep inside your walls, that spot.
you let off a soft whine, feeling the curve of his dick stretch against your sweet cunt that never stopped gripping down on him. it was exceedingly sloppy, your arms that were thrown over his neck started to feel warm.
“f-fuckkk,” you’d bite your tongue, and sukuna just guffaws once more. he finds your behavior adorable and somewhat amusing.
he considers it cute on how you desperately tried to bite back your own moans, you throbbed at the continuous stares he gave you. such playful stares, he was waiting for it.
it was the way your legs were just about to give out — you felt an entire bundle of nerves brew up. up and up and up, you didn’t know how much longer you could have lasted.
“oh, boo. don’t make me fall asleep,” sukuna raises a brow, releasing an overly dramatic faux yawn. he was so cocky, purposely being in manspread for you. he parts his legs just a bit more and you moan. the heftiness of his cock pressing into you, it was enough to make your mouth salivate. “thought i trained my girl to not get so s—”
sukuna gets cut off once he feels your hips start to quicken and he chuckles, maintaining the same rough grip on your waist.
“mhm,” he huffs out, feeling gradually hasten. yet sukuna barely bats an eye, although . . that’s when you bring a hand to wrap around his neck. “choking me now? that’s k-kinda kinky.”
you watch as sukuna’s breathing hitch, and a sly smile spreads across his lips. he likes the feeling of your slender fingers wrapping around his throat. you give it a slight squeeze, and for a brief moment you watch his pearly fangs poke out. if he wasn’t amused, he was surely amused now.
sukuna doesn’t expect you to start laughing in his face now. he’s a bit caught off guard — the both of you were reaching such euphoric peaks at an unsteady pace, he intakes a single sharp breath before you murmur. “now look at you, ‘kuna. growing flustered ‘n all.”
“don’t … get too much of a swell head, brat,” he scoffs, and he was for sure flustered. a cute tinted pink color rises towards his face, and you felt his dick sporadically twitch inside of you. sukuna was definitely embarrassed. for once, he barely had a witty comeback, and he grips the fat of your ass before giving it a rough spank. “shut up ‘n finish.”
“don’t tell me what to do with a cute expression like that,” you giggle, the grip of your thumbs lingering a bit harder against his neck. sukuna snarls. you could tell you were irking his nerves, and he always let you. it pissed him off to say the least, sukuna casually gives you an eye roll and you smile. “you’re being the brat more than me.”
“watch how you speak to me girl,” he grumbles, and a small pout curls against his lips — it was cute, the curse trying to keep up his mean tough facade yet was melting right underneath you.
he loathed how much he enjoyed feeling your hands, the softness of your bare hands against his skin.
feeling you steadily jerk back and forth against him, a toe-curling orgasm right at the tip of your tongue, you moaned. sukuna buried his fingers into your skin, his right thigh idly bouncing underneath you. “mhm. try giving me dirty talk.”
“dirty talk?” you tease, softly stroking your thumb against the middle part of his neck. “you’re into that too, ‘kuna?”
“shut up woman,” he scoffs with puffed cheeks. he regrets even asking — yet you hum, leaning up close to him before giving him what you wanted. you imitated him earlier, smacking his temple gingerly yet with just enough roughness.
the last thing you expect was for a low needy moan to depart from his lips. “you gonna make a mess for me, sukuna?”
“f—fucking woman,” he grunts, and you can tell he’s starting to lose composure. the softness in your voice, the playfulness that ran underneath it. he’s stirring up your insides without a doubt, making your knees buckle and lock. as you straddle him, he could barely keep his hands gripped onto your waist. roughly attached like velcro.
sukuna’s breath, it became unsteady. this time you’re the one squeezing his chin, giggling at the way he tries to give you an irritated glare. “just make me cum.”
“okay baby.”
“call me that again ‘n see what happens.”
“aw baby, don’t be so stubborn.”
his eyes flicker towards you, and you were keen on getting on him annoyed. the grip your soaked pussy had on sukuna had him grow mute for a moment. just the mere squelches that loudly ricocheted from between your legs. the sweetened slick that ran against your slit, it had him locked. for a moment he’s seeing nothing but pure angelic stars. sukuna’s practically speechless, and he finds his rough hands tightly holding onto the mounds of your ass.
“f-fuck,” he huffs out, and his voice grows a tad bit lower. the baritone in it makes you pulsate. shockwaves started to coarse through his veins. it was a multitude of synonyms — heavily intense.
it makes his jaw tense and tighten, he bites down on his lip the moment he feels his balls nearly prepare to dunk inside of you. he was so thick, you had to angle yourself a certain way so he could hit each and every orifice of your gummy walls. every corner, every direct hit to make you moan tight against his ear. every crevice.
“c-cumming,” he throatily groans, his climax hitting him like a truck — the both of you ended up finishing at the same exact time, and sukuna’s eyes eventually do end up rolling back. he literally ate his words. he was on a plateau, a constant high. he swallows thickly, and you make your hips come to a halt once he starts to pour a hefty load into your cunt.
it was so much that it spilled out. all out of your folds, it was a mess. you wriggled your hips teasingly, getting over your orgasm yourself before running a finger down his chest. “tapping out on me, sukuna?”
“tch,” he growled, feeling that same hot flush rise towards his cheeks. he couldn’t deny though, he may have found himself a few favorite kinks. sukuna’s hooded eyes glare at you before his and flex and tense. “whatever, little girl. you—you win, this time.”
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heich0e · 2 months
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"sukuna!"
the itadori house is quiet as the call rings out through the narrow halls.
"SU-KU-NA!"
a door somewhere in the apartment flies open, and heavy footfalls land against the floor.
"what the hell are you yelling for?" the elder of the two itadori brothers turns the corner into the living room, sweatpants low on his hips and his chest bare. his glower is fixed upon his little brother, seated with his legs crossed in the centre of the sofa, a throw pillow cradled on his lap.
yuuji pouts.
"i'm bored."
"i'm gonna kick your ass," sukuna mutters under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.
"wanna go see a movie?" yuuji asks him, his eyes bright with expectation.
"no," sukuna replies flatly.
"what, why?" yuuji complains.
"last time we went to the movies on a friday night we were surrounded by teenagers sucking face for two fuckin' hours,"—he holds up two fingers for emphasis—"i'm not spending my night off watching some seventeen year old snots trying not to cream their jeans just cause they've got a tongue in their mouth for the first time again."
yuuji grimaces a little, both at the memory and his brother's less than enticing use of imagery.
"but i'm bored," yuuji sighs, flopping down onto the sofa with the pillow hugged to his chest.
"so you've said." sukuna lifts an eyebrow. "where's your little minion tonight? lose track of her or something?"
"she's not my minion," yuuji points out.
"co-conspirator then," sukuna rolls his eyes.
yuuji huffs. "she's not answering my calls. i bet she fell asleep after she got home from class."
"still surprised the two of you don't have some kind of weird telepathy goin' on considering how much time the two of you spend together," sukuna drawls. "try tappin' into that. maybe she'll pick up."
yuuji's stares at his brother for a moment, a pensive furrow on his brow.
it's quiet.
sukuna smirks. "gettin' anything?"
yuuji's expression relaxes again, and he slumps further into the sofa. he sighs resignedly. "nothing."
the younger itadori brother surveys the elder for a moment, and sukuna crosses his arms over his chest defensively.
"why are you all sweaty?"
"just got back from a run," sukuna replies curtly.
"you're wasting your night off running?" yuuji asks skeptically.
"yeah, and now i plan on jerking off, taking a shower, and going the fuck to bed—what's it to you?" the elder snaps.
yuuji's nose wrinkles at his brother's crass remark.
"gross," the youngest mutters.
there's the muffled sound of a cell phone chiming somewhere in the room, and yuuji hastens to free the device from the front pocket of his hoodie. his eyes light up when he sees the notification on the screen, hopping up to his feet.
"fushiguro just got off work early and said he'd go to the movies with me!" he cheers excitedly. sukuna rolls his eyes at his brother's enthusiasm as he watches him dash across the living room towards the genkan, clumsily pulling on his sneakers and tugging a cross-body bag over his chest.
"y'know, if you run the whole way there you'll look too eager," sukuna singsongs from where he leans against the wall on the other side of the room. even from such a distance away he can see the blush that paints the tops of his baby brother's cheeks.
"shut up!" yuuji replies, reaching for the doorknob.
"try not to cream your—!" the front door slams behind him before sukuna can finish his remark.
the eldest itadori chuckles a little to himself, shaking his head at his little brother's antics. he reaches up and ruffles the hair at the nape of his neck.
"what would you have done if we really did have a telepathic connection?"
sukuna pauses, his hand still brushing through the back of his hair. he turns to glance down the hallway behind him, only to find you—dressed only in his hoodie, the same one that matches the sweatpants he has on—standing behind him with your hands on your hips.
he smirks a little at the sight, appreciating it for a moment.
"surprised you made it all the way out here," he remarks, his head tilting to the side. "those legs were pretty shaky a couple minutes ago."
"shut up," you mumble, turning your nose up at him indignantly.
"how come everyone's always tellin' me to shut up?" sukuna complains, slinking towards you. he tugs you forward into him by the pocket of his hoodie, his arms snaking around your waist.
"maybe because you deserve it," you remark smugly.
"now is that any way to talk to the guy who just let you cum on his face?" he asks, dipping down until he's nose to nose with you. he watches the way your eyelids flutter a little at his sudden proximity. feels the way your breath breaks on his lips.
"no, but it's the way to talk to the guy who left me right after to go talk about jerking off with his brother," you reply, but it lacks the bite he knows you're aiming for—too breathless to have any real sting.
"aw, were you lonely?" sukuna drawls, inching closer until his smirking mouth is right over yours—close enough to feel the soft, wet heat that radiates from it. practically close enough to taste it.
you shiver a little bit, your facade of indifference fracturing under his nearness. sukuna's smirk splits into a full-blown grin, and before you can even blink he's got you tossed over his shoulder as he carries you back towards his bedroom.
"sukuna! put me down!" you protest, wiggling in his grip. the tips of his fingers dig into the soft give of your bare thighs, keeping you still.
"no can do, kid," he replies easily, ignoring your complaints.
he kicks his bedroom door closed behind him with his heel, and tosses you down onto the rumpled sheets of his bed. you bounce slightly as you land, but eventually settle, leaving you to you stare up at him, your chest heaving, from the mattress below him. he leans over and crawls into his bed overtop of you.
"we've got two hours to kill before he comes back, y'know," sukuna says quietly, dragging his lips up along the edge of your jaw. "how should we pass the time?"
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pizzaapeteer · 5 months
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Bound
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Pairings Mattheo Riddle x Fem Reader Summary After finding the reader left tied up by his sister, Mattheo decides to take the opportunity to have his own fun. Warnings: Restraints, oral (fem receiving) Word count 1400 a/n: Hello! This came to me in a dream lol, and just a heads up that this is my first ever smut fic.
You thrash in the sheets, writhing impatiently awaiting the return of your keeper. Your arms bound tightly to the bed by the metal handcuffs, keeping you from chasing after her. Leaning back, your head rests on the metal headboard, it felt like hours since you had been laying here. This was pathetic, here you were trapped after moments of torturous edging. Waiting, craving for a release; physically and mentally. The push of the door creaks, and your head tilts in anticipation. Mattheo emerges, wondering in, he stops in his tracks as he spots you. He'd only planned to nip in and return something to his sister, but the sight of you made his body run hot. Jaw clenching, his eyes trail up your exposed legs, swallowing as he takes in your lingerie covered figure. He inhales sharply, blood rushing straight to his groin, he whispers under his breath, "Fuck". He had always wanted to fuck you, but his sister had gotten there first. Yet here you were, tied up in a vulnerable oh-so tempting position. At the appearance of Mattheo, you stifled a groan, not too excited to see the other Riddle. Despite the unfortunate turn of events, it didn't hurt to ask if he could release you from your binds. "Little help?" you say head tilting towards the handcuffs. His eyes raise from you to your hands bound, a smirk spreading at the predicament you were in. You didn't feel embarrassed or shy under his gaze, rather impatient as you question his growing intent. You sigh at his amble approach towards you taking his sweet time. Hoping to persuade and hasten his movements, you look at him with puppy eyes, "Please".
He stares at your frustrated state, enthralled by the way you beg for him. His mind wells over the options, a mischievous smile graces his face as he shakes his head. He lets out a chuckled huff, "What and release you from such a compromising position." He clicks his tongue, his figure hovering over you "I don't think so". 
You roll your eyes at his immaturity, not interested in whatever he's planning. Your body jolts abruptly, his hands on your skin tingles under his touch. He traces your hanging arms, goosebumps growing on your sensitive skin. His fingers roam further, across your collarbones and brush the tops of your breasts. Your breath hitches at the intimate caresses, his fingers nimbly unclasp the latch at the front of your bra. "Mattheo, what are you doing?" your voice croaks huskily. He settles himself beside your body, his hands push away the lace revealing the soft swells of your breasts. Your soft peaks harden at their exposure to the cool air. He bites his lips, grinning as he replies, "What I've always wanted to do.” His nimble fingers trace around the exterior of your nipple, extracting a loud whimper from you as you pull at the restraints. His eyes fall to your powerless state, admiring the way your lips part, aching for his touch. Your body craved to be touched in the absence of your former companion, melting into his.
"So, fucking pretty," he hums, pinching your hardened bud between his finger and thumb, revelling in your cry. His hands momentarily stop, spreading your legs apart as he repositions himself between them. A devilish smile braces his face before he dips his head, planting wet, ravenous kisses across your bust. His hands reach cupping, squeezing, the soft flesh. The sensation overwhelming you, his mouth devouring your nipple, making your head fall back. Your mind spins, your desperation growing, yearning for more as your pussy throbbed. 
"Mattheo," you whimper, your eyes pleading. His grip tightens on your body, at the neediness in your voice. Power surges through him at your vulnerable state. He licks his lips, subsiding a groan at your flushed face "Tell me sweetheart, what do you want?". His cock jerks, pushing up against the constraints of his pants, the urgency growing to bury himself in the folds of your wet pussy. But he knows you won't be able to hold out till then. He cocks an eyebrow, awaiting a response, your neediness fueling him. You bite your lip to restrain the whimper, trying to conceal how defenceless you feel. "I want to cum," you state simply. Your body quivering in excitement at the possibility of finally climaxing. He ponders your answer thoughtfully, giving in with an eager smile. The temptations of being in control of your unravelling rouses him. Retreating back, his hands travel down your sides stopping to hook his fingers onto your underwear. His eyes never break from yours, your chest tightening at his deliberately slow pace of removing your underwear. You huff in annoyance, fed up with the amount of teasing you'd had today. Not by one, but two Riddles. The handcuffs cut into your skin at your relentless movements, hips bucking. His large hands hold you firmly in place, he maneuvers, immersing himself between your aching thighs. He roughly kisses your inner thighs, inching closer to your throbbing core, his hand creep up to fondle your breast. His lips sweep across your clit gently, still teasing, his head angling up to watch your chest rise and fall. He licks a long stipe up the middle of your centre, sucking it. His hands sliding around to hold your lower stomach, preventing you from bucking your hips. With his head nestled between your thighs, you admire the way his hair falls tickling your skin. It had been a long time since a boy had eaten you out, often leaving you unsatisfied. Watching Mattheo's alluring brown eyes never break contact, you thought it wasn't possible to be left unsatisfied in his hold. His skilled tongue buried deep inside your folds, lapping at your juices like a starved man. 
Restlessly your hands twitch, grasping the headboard bars. You ache to fuse your hands with his dark locks, yearning to tug him closer. You worked with what you had, squeezing your thighs around his head. His firm grip ceases intention, his hands pushing your legs open; his fingers tantalizing around your heat. He clicks his tongue, his voice low with authority, "Keep those fucking legs still, sweetheart.” Without any warning, he slides two fingers inside your pussy. A deep moan erupts from within your chest, your back arches, hips threatening to rise. The sensation of his fingers leaving you feeling saturated, a feeling of attainment washing over you. 
The combination of his proficient tongue on your clit and his fingers thrusting inside you, induce your high to arrive earlier than usual. Your legs twitch at every flick of his tongue against your overstimulated clit, incoherent words spilling from your mouth, your chest heaves breathlessly. His grip on you tightens as you squirm restlessly as your climate nears. Your eyes burn with bliss, and instinctively they fall shut briefly, snapping open at the harsh slap given to your pussy. "Keep those fucking eyes on me" he demands, a whimper spilling from you. He continues to thrust his fingers inside of you and returns his lips sucking harshly on your clit. 
In your attempt to obey him, you struggle to keep your eyes wide. Your brows furrow, holding eye contact with him, his curls brushing your skin. Mattheo's husky voice rasps, "Come on sweetheart, cum for me.” Your face flushes, heat igniting throughout every inch of your body. Your limbs contorting, back arching at the surge of your orgasm overcomes you. "F-fuck, fuck, fuck," tears well at your eyes, a breathy cry leaving your lips. "That's its baby, fuck," he praises, prompting you on. He continues to lap, watching you fall apart, capturing every drop of your sweet cum. The sounds of your whines forever etched in his mind. 
Your chest heaves, heartrate accelerating, your body twitching in your aftermath of climax. Your mind submerges, sighing relishing in the freeing pleasure of your bliss. Too consumed, you go unaware of Mattheo cleaning himself up. You close your eyes catching your breath and hear the clang of kegs unlocking your wrists. At the unlocking of your restraints, your arms fall tiredly to your sides. You peek an eye open at Mattheo. "Thanks for that," your mouth pulling into a lazy but satisfied smile. He runs a hand through his hair, looking victorious in his own efforts. "I'll have to return the favour sometime" you add cheekily.  His head quirks towards the door at the call of his name, returning his gaze to you he chuckles in response to your offer. “If you can escape the restraints of my sister.” His words dripping in hidden meanings, mockery and challenge sparkle in his eyes. “But I won’t hold back if you do”. 
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darlingdekarios · 1 year
Text
hibernate.
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rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 6,152 content: Arthur Morgan x f!reader, animal hunting mentions, cannon-accurate outlaw behavior, cowboy meet cute, Arthur Morgan is a simp, snowed in, fluff, smut [v fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, cockwarming], kink(s) [spit as lube]
it was like fate insisted on the two of you colliding.
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The first time you’d met Arthur Morgan was a lovely March night in New Hanover, opportunities abound as the hustle and bustle of life was at its highest point of the year, the weather the most tolerable for moving about. Returning from an evening of fishing now that the water wasn’t frozen in some areas and sketching birds by the river when he stumbled across a lone figure boarding train – well after midnight. He followed on horseback under the cover of trees in anticipation, joined by your own horse shortly after. He followed alongside with a hold of the strange horse’s reins until the train came to a stop. 
He'd strained to hear you, considered boarding after you to clean up any straggling guards – it wasn’t his business, so he didn’t – but curiosity held him close. When the sound of police approaching quickly began you emerged to the top of the train, looking around desperately for your horse. Temporarily frozen when the moonlight caught your face and confirmed to the man that you were a woman, he recovered just in time to spring into action.
It had been Arthur who had led your horse to you and instructed you to follow. It was Arthur’s path that led you away from the law and eventually far enough away to be free of their hunting.
“Are you some kinda lunatic, lady?” he questioned when the two of you slowed side-by-side under the cover of thick trees, his face hard-set and stern. “You coulda gotten yourself tossed away for a long time back there.”
“I didn’t, though,” you laughed, and despite the feeling that burned in him that he couldn’t quite place as anger or worry Arthur’s stomach flipped at the sound and the way your laugh reached your eyes. You adjusted your hat with a playful smile on your lips, keeping the reins to your horse in one hand. 
“Thanks to me,” he asserted, the stress causing him to light up a cigarette and adjust his hat. His eyes caught your gaze and you held it, appreciating his handsome features for a moment as your smile twisted wider.
“I would’ve figured it out, cowboy – you can be sure of that.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’ve seen your face on ‘wanted’ posters, Mr. Morgan,” you proclaimed, tone proud as you called him on his identity. He took another drag from his cigarette before leaning forward comfortably in his saddle, outstretching a hand toward you. 
“Arthur,” he offered, amusement flashing across his features when you shook his hand firmly. “And I’ve seen yours, too. What is it they call you…?”
“The Panther,” you replied, that proud tone ever-present in your voice. “A nice tribute to my best hunt.”
His poker face was too well-trained to reveal that he was impressed – that he was intrigued.
“Well next time you go thinkin’ of doing something so goddamn stupid like rob a train at midnight alone,” he began, gruff voice filled with frustration as he attempted to present his unamused façade. “You could invoke that particular nickname and be a little more subtle.”
The second time was just as circumstantial. It was July – the heat sweltering, the air sticky, the fireflies sparkling in fields at night. You’d been riding for days, hunting gators in the swamps for weeks and now headed back to a more familiar area where you felt more at home. Just past Emerald Ranch you’d spotted him on the road ahead – his hat unmistakable and burned into your mind, his horse giving away his identity to anyone who knew it. 
There was no questioning if he’d want your company – you didn’t even give it a thought. Instead, you’d hastened your own horse to catch up with him.
“Where ya headed, cowboy?” you questioned as you approached from behind, adjusting your hat back on your head to offer more of your face to him. Your voice immediately sent a shiver down his spine, the barely-there smile crossing his features unmissed by you.
Four months trying to remember your face and voice hadn’t done it any justice.
“Valentine,” he replied, slowing his horse’s stride to match yours. The two of you set a lazy pace, in no real hurry to get anywhere. “You following me now, cat?”
“Like I ain’t got better things to do, Mr. Morgan?” you joked, nose scrunching as you smiled. The Summer sun had done beautiful things for your color, he noted. “Give you $50 and shine your guns if you can beat me there.”
“Are you tryin’ to race me?” he questioned with a subtle laugh, raising an eyebrow in your direction.
“Won’t be much of a race, cowboy.”
He let out a real, genuine, albeit short laugh at that. The sound filled the air around you, made birds vacate trees. Your heart soared away alongside them.
“And what is it you want if you win?”
“A nice bottle of whisky,” you replied after a brief moment of thought, reaching your hand to rub your horse’s neck gently. Arthur had forgotten how gentle your hands were with everything they touched – the rediscovery lighting up his mind. “And a hot meal at your camp.”
“Can’t promise the gang’ll let you eat at camp without drinking, too.”
“Which is why I asked for a bottle of whisky,” you remarked, that shit-eating grin he was starting to love spreading on your face again. “Do we have a deal?”
“Hope your horse is fast enough to back up that mouth of yours,” he quipped back, intentionally antagonizing you as he started to pick up the speed slightly. “Or that you’ve got plenty of gun oil.”
You shot forward then, the dust of the road kicking up behind you as you left Arthur behind on a road you both knew well. In reality he could’ve caught you – could’ve even won if he’d pushed his horse hard enough – but the sound of your laughter in the cool evening air was reason enough to lose. 
It wasn’t a surprise when you crossed over into the town first.
“You cheated,” he argued as he approached, allowing his horse to slow to a reasonable speed for being around other people. “Got a head start. Doesn’t count.”
“You’re just a sore loser.”
“Maybe I am,” he replied, reaching up to remove his hat to resituate his wind-blown hair. You were momentarily transfixed on his fingers running through the strands that looked soft – maybe in need of a wash but soft nonetheless – but quickly wished he’d left it messy. “Weren’t mean you didn’t get a head start, cat.”
“Oh, like a couple steps mattered,” you entered an easy banter with him, just like the two of you had done in the Spring. He’d missed it – hadn’t realized how much he had until then. “Coulda given you a five-minute head start and still would’ve beat you and that slowpoke horse you ride.”
“Anybody ever tell you you’re difficult?” 
“Heard it a couple times,” there was that smile again – the nose crinkling one. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep his thoughts to himself with you smiling that way – at him. You jumped down from your stallion and hitched him with ease, feeding the massive animal a small snack in appreciation of his efforts. “I can compromise. I buy the whisky, but I still get a hot meal at your camp.”
He pondered your proposal only briefly before nodding, letting out an affirmative huff in agreeance. “I’ll meet you at the butcher when you’re done.”
You gave your horse a gentle pat and nodded, turning back to meet his gaze. “Sell that fox pelt I have up on Scratch, will ya?”
Easy. Simple. Honest. Sensible. Arthur loved having you around camp that night – and the night after when you’d been convinced to stay again by the women – though it was hardly just them that enjoyed your company. You’d made easy companions in the camp with your sharp tongue and ability to hold your alcohol. You had plenty of stories to share with Arthur’s chosen family – each one of them genuinely interesting to the gang.
Everyone knew the fact Arthur had brought you around meant you were a good person. The beauty was a bonus, he’d been informed in privacy. He’d only told Sean to shut his mouth in response. Arthur slept by the fire that night so you could sleep in his cot, and if anyone else in the gang saw the way he’d sat up for at least an hour with his eyes transfixed on your sleeping figure in his bed. 
It was Fall, October to be exact, the next time he heard from you – this time you had taken fate into your own hands to seek out his company. He was certain he’d never be able to dispose the letter you’d penned and sent to his camp.
Dear Arthur, Kinda strange to call you “dear”, huh?  Anyway, I have a job comin’ up in Saint Denis that involves me boarding a train quite late at night and remembering our conversation earlier this year I thought I may ask you to join.  Job is planned for the night of October 18, the Saturday after next. I’ll meet you the Friday before at the saloon in Van Horn if you plan on joining me.  I do hope you join me.  Hope that gang of yours isn’t being too rough on you. 
He arrived in Van Horn a day early and rented himself a room – and a bath – so he was prepared for the meeting. He was in the saloon before you, his chest clenching as you walked in through the swinging doors. 
You’d taken a page from his book and clearly bathed recently as well, and you were dressed for the first time in front of him in feminine attire. The sight of you in a skirt shouldn’t have affected him the way it did – it was embarrassing for a man his age. It didn’t prevent the pressure building at his waist, nor did it stop him from speaking his mind.
“You had to wear that damn skirt, didn’t ya?” he questioned when you joined him, a smile spreading across your face. It was hardly a gentlemanly way to greet you, but then again, he was hardly a gentleman. “Knew what you were doin’ puttin’ that on with me coming in today…”
“You complained so much about the pants last time I figured I’d save myself the headache,” you replied, sliding into a chair next to him and crossing your legs for emphasis. “You don’t like it?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, kitten,” he’d practically purred – a new tone between the two of you. There was no denying that you wanted to hear it more, and you nearly chose to forget the real reason you were now sitting beside him. 
“I need to look the part tomorrow for the job,” you replied quickly, eager to squash the tension now building between the two of you, unwilling to allow the job to go forgotten. There was too much money at stake. “Have to board a real nice train when it leaves out of Saint Denis tomorrow night. There’s a safe onboard I’d like to get my hands into.”
“Can’t just rob it the old-fashioned way?”
“Someone didn’t like the last time I did that,” you teased, feeling pleased with the smile it earned. “Figured I’d board and crack the safe.”
“Why you need me then?”
“Need someone to play my husband and keep watch while I’m workin’ on the safe.”
“Your husband,” he huffed out with another laugh, a brief shake to his head. The term had always been silly to him, just as silly as the idea of marriage was to you as a whole, really – and yet, there was no denying the clench in both of your chests at the mere thought. The imaginary suggestion manifested in brief images of domesticity, the vision of you sleeping in his cot in July flashing in his mind. 
You didn’t miss the slight redness to his cheeks, he didn’t miss how your smile fluttered into something laced with affection. For all your joking demeanor, it was still clear that there was some secretive sincerity beneath the surface – that you cared for Arthur. And on Arthur’s part, well…he wouldn’t ride across the country to work for just anyone.
“Yes,” you replied when you’d pulled yourself from the depths of his eyes. “A woman travelling with her husband is far less likely to draw attention than if I were alone.”
You thought there would be some protest, though if you’d seen even a fraction of the thoughts Arthur had conjured up in the preceding months you’d never have to question it. To you what seemed to be him conceding was actually the outlaw taking a step he’d long considered taking with you the next chance he got. 
Arthur just wanted to spend time with you – there were probably very few things he’d say no to right now in regard to you. He wouldn’t go admitting that out loud anytime soon either. 
“Fine, I’ll go along with your little plan. Only so you don’t go gettin’ yourself arrested.”
“Great!” you exclaimed, the brightness that covered your face blinding but serving as confirmation that he was making the right choice. The money he was sure to get would be a bonus, too. “I got you a wedding ring. Looks like it’ll fit. You can sell it when the job’s done, as a thank you.”
“You get it off a dead body?”
“He didn’t need it anymore.”
There was that goddamn feeling in his chest again. 
This was the fourth time destiny had crossed your path with Arthur Morgan’s. 
Now, the ring still lay in the outside pouch of his satchel, the cool metal brushing against the tips of his calloused fingers often daily in a physical reminder of you. Today, feeling the pull of being apart from you for four months now and into the new year, he’d been clutching the metal in his gloved hands as he led his horse through the far North. Seeking the solitary bliss of being alone in the mountains for the winter, he had opted to simply ride and camp, sketching in his journal and enjoying the snow dusted scenery. Arthur’s plan was soon thwarted as a snowstorm began to roll in.
He'd been riding along the same worn path to make his way down the mountain when he noticed horse tracks leading into the thick forest – a horse, by the look of it, with no reemergence to be seen. Opting to do the honorable thing, Arthur pursued the trail, weaving through trees atop his own horse until he came to a small clearing where you were setting predator bait.
He didn’t know the kind of words to describe the way he felt seeing you right in front of him.
“Are you some kinda lunatic, cat?” 
If he had a way with words, he’d tell you that your smile was brighter than the sun itself – fleeting shooting stars, the North Star when he’s lost. 
“That’s not the first time you’ve asked me that question, Mister Morgan,” you replied, standing up and patting your horse as your gaze remained transfixed on him now. Even at this distance you could see the blue in his coat had electrified his eyes, the tone a perfect match for the world around you. You found it hard to form any further rebuttal. 
“Won’t be the last either, given you’re doing something fucking crazy every time I see you,” he teased, finally giving into the natural ease he felt with you. The light air between the two of you had finally lulled him into a sense of comfort around you – he was willing to admit he was concerned, in his own way. “There’s a storm rollin’ in. You trying to freeze to death?”
“Trying to hunt a white wolf,” you replied, glancing back at the bait you’d just set and adjusting the bow you held in your hands, an arrow already grasped between two fingers. 
Fuckin’ hell, Arthur thought. ‘Course that’s what you’re out here doing.
“You ain’t gonna be hunting much of anything when you turn into an icicle,” he replied, hopeful that you would understand his taunting was coming from a place of concern – not control. “You got Scratch nearby?”
“I suppose you’re right,” you smiled, slipping the arrow back into the quiver on your back and whistling to call your horse back to you. You mounted up on the animal easily, Arthur taking the moment to appreciate how languid your movements were – how graceful. His eyes lingered at your waist for a moment longer than was decent.
“If I remember right there’s a cabin just up the road. Been empty the last few times I rode by,” he explained, his words offering more than just a place to shield from the freeze. 
Arthur wanted to spend time with you. You’d truly have to be a lunatic to think otherwise.
“Lead the way, cowboy.”
The snow picked up as the two of you rode side-by-side, both of your horses slowing as the powder piled up, creating heavier footsteps. While Arthur spoke to his horse beside you to soothe her through the storm, you could feel his eyes consistently on you despite the painful whip of flakes against his unshielded cheeks.
What could have been a short ride in the summer extended in the weather, and by the time the cabin approached view you had begun to shiver – something Arthur took note of. When he climbed from his horse he unrolled the blanket on the back of his saddle, passing it up to you before grabbing his shotgun. 
“I’ll check inside, you try not to shiver s’much you fall off your horse.”
He disappeared into the cabin, your mind focusing on the sounds of him moving about rather the piling snow that was sure to trap you for days. Keeping yourself wrapped in his blanket provided the additional comfort of his lingering scent, and you found yourself clutching the fabric tighter and tighter as the moments passed.
“This’ll be fine ‘til the storm’s passed,” he announced as he exited through the doors, voice raised so you could hear him over the wind. “You go on in while I get some firewood and hitch the horses.”
“I can help, you know,” you offered, eyebrows pulling together to communicate your frustration. 
“Would you stop your arguing for once and go inside out of this shit?”
By the time Arthur made his way in from the storm you’d used what wood remained in the cabin to start a fire, the flames warming the air around it quickly. The mattress was considerably dirty and out of the question, so you were validated in the decision to carry in your bedrolls and blankets, having set them up comfortably in front of the fire. 
His heavy boots sounded on the floor as he approached where you sat on the floor from behind, and while you couldn’t see him, you could feel his eyes on you. 
“Already got a fire going?”
“Uh huh,” you replied, noting the subtle shake to his voice. Arthur was strong, but he was human, and he was cold. The fact that he not only was willing to but insisted on suffering for you caused a knot to form in your stomach. “Got some whisky if you need help warming up.”
He simply grunted affirmatively in reply, setting the stack of wood carefully to the side and picking out the driest pieces to tend the fire with now. You tempted to hand the bottle out to him, the liquid going ignored as he began to peel off layer by layer, tossing the soaked clothing to the side lazily with little regard for how they ended up. Normally you’d have stood to hang the clothes, but you found yourself spellbound by the way Arthur’s muscles flexed with each movement under the simple wet damp button up shirt – the last remaining layer.
When he was somewhat comfortable, he turned to face you, eyes flashing with amusement as he took the bottle from your fingers. You were certain your mouth was hanging open and he’d caught you. At the moment, you could hardly bring yourself to care.
Hours passed as the two of you got warm and caught up over the last few weeks. You sat opposite one another, both wrapped in your own blankets and full of enough whisky to ignore the storm outside – to ignore everything but one another. Arthur hadn’t missed that most of your clothes lie neatly folded atop the countertop. The thought was repeating in his mind – the heavy question of what exactly remained under the blanket haunting him. 
He couldn’t be blamed for not being a good listener. 
“Arthur, are you even listenin’ to me?”
“Not a fuckin’ word,” he replied with one more small swig of whisky from the bottle, setting it well out of the way to the side. “Stop fuckin’ doin’ that if you want me to listen.”
“Doing what?”
You knew damn well what.
“Lookin’ at me like you want me to come crawl on top of you.”
Why on Earth would you ever stop doing that? 
“No.”
Your mouth was going to drive him to insanity one day. He wasn’t going to do a single thing about it.
“Did you just tell me ‘No’?” 
“Yeah, Arthur, I surely did,” you replied, quick and agile as you were on your feet. He was beginning to think you may only talk to hm this way, and that thought alone was enough to make him want to reach out to you. “Hoping you take the hint.”
The blanket he’d been using for himself was discarded to the side, your words finally snapping the thin thread of control that remained in him. He extended one arm outward toward the floor to support himself, outstretching his legs to be situated in a more comfortable position before his eyes found yours again. 
“Come on over here,” his invitation came thick as molasses and dripping just as sweet, his free hand patting his right thigh to give his words deeper meaning. “Bring the blanket.”
Arthur had finally figured out how to get you to stop arguing and basked in the glory of the moment as you crawled to him carefully, finding a comfortable seat in his lap as you straddled his thighs. He savored the view as you wrapped your arms around his neck, encompassing you both with the blanket, your face illuminated by the golden glow of the well-tended fire – beautiful, warm, inviting. 
He was more than happy to finally accept. 
“Are you gonna kiss me, Arthur?”
He knew you were trying to sound resolute as you always did – firm and demanding and impossible to deny. While those things lingered – he doubted they could ever truly be gone from you – what really laced your words was the quietest of whines. He sat up fully, bringing his torso closer to yours and grasping your hips in both hands, all the while your heart beating faster and faster in anticipation.
When you opened your mouth to let your protest be known again, he took his opportunity to claim your lips in a long-awaited kiss, the feeling of his lips caressing yours sucking the air from your chest immediately. He opted to slide his hands to your lower back to bring you in closer, pressing your chests together as he kissed you hungrily. Touch starved and overwhelmed by the feeling of you returning his kiss with soft lips he sought more of your skin, sliding his hands up the back of the loose blouse you remained in. 
“Clothes are still wet,” he grumbled against your lips, displeased by the cool touch to your skin that remained. You scrambled to reinitiate the kiss, your lips catching his bottom lip as a whine slipped through your lips. A quiet chuckle rumbled through his chest as he nuzzled your cheek with his nose. 
“Take them off, then,” you breathed out, bowing your head to press a delicate kiss to his neck. His own breath caught, arms wrapping tighter around you – almost too tight, almost too crushing. You made no move to stop him as you began to test the best places to leave your kisses, spurring him to release his hold on you to start peeling the last layers from both of you. 
Your lips brushed against the shell of his ear when all that remained were intimate coverings, a shaky groan rolling through his chest. His hands engulfed you, sliding up your torso until he cupped your breasts, dipping his head to claim your lips again. 
That kiss was hungry – starved – clumsy in ways that screamed of desperation. His thumbs rubbed over your nipples lightly, a smile evident on his lips despite the fact he continued to kiss you as a moan slipped from your throat. It spiraled from there, both of your hands exploring, your fingers the best thing he’d felt against his skin in a long time. As the pressure built heavier at your waist his hands trailed lower, one stopping to grasp your waist, the other slipping into the waistband of your underwear. 
He'd never heard music that sounded as good as the sound of the moan that left you as his thick fingers swiped through your wet folds, an appreciative hum shaking in his throat as you burrowed your face in his neck. 
“You’re already soaked for me, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice getting lower and lower with each word. He began to sink his index finger into you, grasping your hip tighter in his other hand. “Fuckin’ tight, too. Hell.”
“Arthur…”
“Aw, hush,” he cooed, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple as he curled his finger inside you, pulling a quiet whimper from you. “No point tryin’ to talk right now, darlin’ – just lemme take care of ya.”
He could take his sweet time, Arthur Morgan. He was a patient man, especially when it came to you, and never more-so than now as he began to work his finger in and out of your clenching heat. He added a second finger soon, pressing the heel of his hand to your clit to give you more pressure, which you gladly accepted by rocking your hips into it. 
As he pumped his fingers into you he began to trail kisses lower, the kisses growing heavier and wetter the further down he went. By the time he nipped at your hip with his teeth lightly you were breathless, eyes squeezed shut as you lost yourself to pleasure. He kissed across your waistline as he pulled your underwear down, smiling against your skin lightly when you kicked them free with frustrated fervor. 
Nothing up to this point compared to the feeling of Arthur sliding his tongue from his fingers to your clit, giving the sensitive bundle of nerves a soft suck. He repeated the motion as you struggled to even moan, your hands grasping at the blankets now on the floor beneath you as you tried to rock your hips into his face desperately.
“Easy, now,” Arthur reprimanded with quiet reverence behind his words, turning his head to press a kiss to your inner thigh softly. “I’m takin’ my time with you, don’t rush me.”
You finally opened your eyes, ready to give him an earful about being a tease, only to be frozen once again faced with the sight of Arthur, golden illuminated by the fire and somehow still wearing his hat tipped back on his head. You maintained eye contact with him as you reached forward with your hands, removing the hat with one hand and placing it on your own head as your fingers ran through his hair, giving a soft tug at the end. 
The growl vibrated through him and you as he connected his lips to your clit, pumping his fingers into you and connecting the tips, curling them skillfully to rub against the sensitive patch deep within you as he sucked your clit. All the while he maintained eye contact, even when he removed his mouth from you with one final flick of his tongue, just as he removed his fingers from you. 
“Arthur…” you whimpered in protest, tugging his hair again to try to bring him back to your needy core.
“Hush,” he instructed tenderly, slipping his hands under your ass and grasping firmly to lift your waist from the floor. He soaked in the view of your glistening folds at this angle and tested how it looked to watch one of his fingers slip into you before removing it, licking his lips again. “You are a pretty little thing, ain’t ya?”
Your reply was sucked from your chest and altered into a cry of pleasure as he spit on your folds, smearing the liquid around before connecting his thumb to your clit, rubbing a figure eight. Supporting your raised hips still with one hand he continued to rub your clit, now using his tongue to fuck into you rather than his fingers, tasting you how he’d wanted to for nearly a year now.
The pressure continued to build and boil, eventually reaching a point of eruption – all the usual signs there with your shaking thighs, shorter and desperate breaths, your nails scratching against his temple as you gripped whatever you could. Arthur figured it was a previously unknown bonus to him keeping his hair a little on the longer side. He groaned to encourage you, switching his movements to pump his fingers into you again, circling your clit with his tongue until you became incendiary, your first orgasm washing through you with white hot heat.
He continued to lap at your folds as you came, removing his tongue from you occasionally only to kiss your thighs and mutter tender praises as you came back down to your body. When you had some sense about yourself, he was crawling back up you, pressing kisses to your stomach and breasts before he reached your lips, offering you a taste of your own honey sweet pleasure on his tongue.
When the adoration filled amorous kiss ended so Arthur could breathe you began to trail kisses down his neck again, following a trail to his chest before his index finger caught under your chin, lifting you back up to him, cerulean eyes questioning.
“Your turn,” you offered, slipping one of your hands into the waistband of his underwear and wrapping your fingers around his throbbing cock slowly. Running your finger over the velvet head you smeared the pre-spend leaking already, biting at your swollen bottom lip when he moaned. 
“Not tonight, sweet thing,” he declined, his hesitation clear in his voice. You began to rub him gently – slowly – too damn slow – causing his eyes to roll back briefly. “You wrap these lips around me, and I won’t last long enough t’ fuck you.”
“Please.”
You didn’t truly know what you were begging for – for him to test himself and allow you to take his already throbbing cock into your mouth or for him to follow through on that promise to fuck you. Luckily, Arthur seemed to know exactly what your words were asking for – what you needed. 
He reached to remove your hand from his cock gently, freeing himself of his underwear before he gently moved you to your side, lying beside you with his back to the fire to shield you from getting too much heat, to ensure you didn’t get hurt. One arm wrapped around your waist while the other slid to cup your cheek in his hand, bringing you in closer to him as he kissed you again. 
As much fun as he’d been having teasing, he was done with the games now, and could no longer find the patience. He reached to lift your leg around his waist before grasping his cock, rubbing against your still-soaked entrance for a moment to gather some lubrication before he sank into you. Inch by inch disappeared into your velvet channel, the kiss practically halting as you gasped. He leaned his forehead against yours instead, grasping your waist gently as he continued to slip into you.
“Atta fuckin’ girl,” he breathed out. The large hand that still cupped your cheek slipped downward to rest against your neck instead, his fingertips digging into your skin in attempt to steady himself, to savor your pulse beneath his touch. “Takin’ me so good. You doin’ okay?”
You nodded as you stared into his eyes, pupils blown wide and mouth hanging open already at the feeling of him stretching you, almost too full but not something you’d be willing to give up anytime soon. When he’d fully seated himself within you, his cock buried to the hilt he released a shaky groan of his own, his eyes briefly closing as he savored the feeling of being wrapped up in you.
“Goddamn you’re tight,” he groaned out, pressing several light kisses to your lips before grinding his hips into yours slightly. “Shoulda crawled ‘tween your legs months ago.”
“Would…ah…woulda let you,” you managed to reply, pressing your lips to his in an unabashedly salacious kiss, already perfecting how to slot your lips against his in a way that left him craving more. He couldn’t hold back his movements any longer and began to pump into you repeatedly, setting a wanton and quick pace that somehow managed to remain tender and reverent.
He could only be tender for so long, desperation and months of waiting and yearning building in him. His movements began to get sloppy sooner than he’d have liked, though he felt better when your walls began to flutter and clench around him, your thigh shaking around his hip slightly. He picked up his pace to a much more relentless one, driving his cock into you and into your spongy cervix repeatedly as his grunts became more frequent, pressing kisses to your neck now.
“Want you to finish while I’m inside you,” he instructed, though there was something so subtly desperate behind his words – a quiet beg that only someone who knew him would recognize. “Think you can do that for me, darlin’?”
You nodded before leaning your head back again, quiet cries leaving your lips as he connected his thumb to your clit again, immediately choosing a relentless pace to rub in circles. You were almost certain you’d do anything he asked and soon enough you were pushed over the edge again, your walls clenching him so tight he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to remove himself. He did his best to continue pumping into you roughly now as he sought his own release, certain you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow. Like you’d need to, anyway. 
“F-fill me up, Arthur,” you begged unexpectedly through your euphoria, and he didn’t need anything else to convince him. With only a few more bruising thrusts he stilled inside you as he emptied his seed in hot ropes into you, groaning loudly as he lazily leaned his forehead to yours again, his own eyes screwed shut.
He didn’t remove himself from you when you’d both ridden your orgasms, instead holding you close and reaching to cover the two of you in one of the blankets that was on the floor. He wrapped his arms around you tightly to hold you closer to him, slipping one of his legs between yours for additional comfort and warmth. Still semi-hard with plenty of stamina to offer you couldn’t ignore the feeling of him seated in you still, buried as deep as possible as he brushed his nose against yours. 
“Be a whole lot warmer this way,” he offered, giving a subtle move of his hips to emphasize the meaning behind his words. He pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose before reaching upward to kiss your forehead, leaving his lips resting there. He was right – you did finally feel warm.
“Mm,” was all you could reply, laying your head against his shoulders and closing your eyes, burrowing your face into his neck. He smiled as you managed to press lazy kisses into his neck before wrapping your arms around him as well. 
“Think I’ll keep you here all winter,” he offered after several blissful moments, his head leaning to rest on the top of yours as his own eyes closed. He pressed one final kiss to your temple before succumbing to the comfort of you fully.
“Always knew you were a big teddy bear, Arthur,” you teased. How you managed to run your mouth still after he’d fucked you right was beyond him – but it was also probably a reason he’d want to keep fucking you.
“We’ll call it hibernation, then.”
masterlist. red dead redemption masterlist.
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ode2rin · 2 months
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SAY YES TO ME ~ ❀ ·˚
content/warnings. 1.7k+ wc | husband!reo x gn!reader | characters are aged up to late twenties | just lovesick reo asking you to be his valentine's date :> | pure fluff | minimal proofread
𓆩♡𓆪 in which: your husband, reo, just knows exactly how to make you say yes.
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For the first time in his life, Reo had never been happier to be the CEO of his company. 
He couldn't recall feeling as alive even when he first inherited the position. While he appreciated the benefits and authority, nothing compared to the freedom of controlling his own time.
As soon as the clock struck 12 pm, Reo sprang to his feet, driven by a sense of purpose akin to a man on a mission. His determined strides echoed against the perfectly marbled tiles of his office floor as he made his way to the elevator. It was five hours earlier than his usual clock-out time, but today was an exception.
Because today was Valentine’s Day— and he had better plans than sitting around skimming through papers that hardly made any sense anymore because his mind was already consumed with thoughts of you, as if he didn’t spend most of his time doing exactly that anyway.
Before finally leaving his office floor, Reo made a beeline for his secretary’s desk to ensure the finishing touches were being made according to his instructions.
“Everything must be ready before we arrive,” he declared to his secretary, his tone more of a command than a request. This was serious business, after all. In fact, none of the investor deals he signed earlier this day would measure up to the importance of this one task at hand.
“Yes, sir,” his secretary replied cautiously.
Satisfied, he stepped into the elevator. His eagerness to see you was so evident— anyone can tell. He wasn’t hiding it, not even trying one bit to do so. From the way he pressed the lobby button twice, checked his watch incessantly for the past few hours, and tapped his wingtip against the elevator floor as if its speed could hasten his journey home— everyone can tell that his very own company building was the last place on earth he wanted to be.
Well, he supposed anyone with someone precious waiting for them at home would understand his seemingly pathetic behavior.
Pathetic, lovesick, whipped— you’ve reduced him to every synonym for such. 
Not that it concerns him; what's more concerning is that he's not bothered by any perception tied to it. If he hadn't outgrown that teenage angst and was still chasing bits to fuel his ego, then it would have been a different story. He would have been hypersensitive to what bystanders thought of him. Now, older and wiser, he couldn’t care less about what they meant to prying eyes or big tabloids. None of their opinions were yours, so none of them mattered.
The journey back home was tenfold more insufferable than the time spent in the elevator. He kept his eye on his chauffeur in the rear-view mirror, and if he squinted enough, he could see the beads of nervous sweat forming at the poor man’s temple. He sighed to himself, seemingly reprimanding his own improper behavior. Hell, what was happening to him? He wasn't even an impatient man to begin with. All because of Valentine’s Day—all because he couldn’t wait to see you.
He got it real bad, as his longtime best friend would like to say. One he couldn't find it in himself to deny. It was true, anyway.
He didn't know when or where it started, but one random night four years ago, he woke up in a cold sweat, and the realization that he was hell deep in love with you gnawed on his center to his throat. So in love it set his heart on fire, all while being in love with the one person who lit the match.
Rumors were true— love never aligned with logic, intricate planning, none of what he excelled at as a businessman. And so, he abandoned logic and acted exactly as his heart had been urging him to. 
The very moment the sun peeked over the horizon that fateful day, he was on his feet, his jet waiting to fly him to wherever the finest diamond engagement rings reside.
It was the best decision he had ever made in his life because if he hadn’t, then he wouldn’t be standing at the entrance of your shared home, his grin widening with each approaching step he hears. You’re bustling around the house just to welcome him home—so, no, he couldn’t have it any other way. The mere thought of doing things differently made his heart leap into his throat, while a hollow feeling settled in his chest.
“Love! Welcome home!” you greet him, your lively voice warming Reo’s heart as it makes its way to him.
Even before you could throw your arms around his shoulders and kiss him senselessly to welcome him home, you're met with a bundle of red roses he had taken from his back.
“You shouldn’t have bothered,” you blushed, resembling the vibrant flowers he bought on the way home.
“Nothing is ever a bother when it comes to you,” he mused, big amethyst eyes sparkling back at you.
Ever the sweet talker, you looked at your husband who was now peering over you and the roses you’re cradling.
“Okay, Mr. Charming. To what occasion do I owe this?” you play pretend, your voice tinged with playful curiosity.
Instead of an immediate response, you felt his hands traveling to the small of your back, pulling you close against his embrace. His lips grazed your cheek, before whispering in your ear, “Be my Valentine?”
Here he goes again, you thought. “I’ve been married to you for the last four years, if I remember correctly,” you pointed out to him, keeping your smile to yourself.
That’s not a yes. Huffing, Reo pulled back from your hug to look you in the eye, “Your point being? There are no rules in marriage that say I can no longer ask you on Valentine’s day– if I remember correctly,” and he even had the pettiness to mock your tone.
“Wow, my husband is a bit sassy today, isn’t he?” 
My husband, he repeats in his mind, and just like that, all sassiness and pettiness came flying straight out of the window. “I love being your husband,” he blurted out, totally unrelated to your previous banter.
“Oh, really, now?” you teased, feigning the warmth it sent to your chest.
He does, truly and definitely. A man like him is widely known for what he has– for the possessions under his name and for the power it holds. Yet here he was, wrapped around your arms, and suddenly, being your husband has been the best he has been called and known for.
There was no weight, no expectations, and no pressure tied to it— just love dripping in every letter. There’s no one he would rather be.
“Yeah, am I doing a great job?” smiling at you, he asks, “I’m not losing the charms, am I?”
“Trust me, you’re very much good at it,” you fondly brushed the strands of hair covering his eyes, “and you’re not losing the charms,” you quoted.
“Really? So if I were to ask again, would you say yes?”
“With or without your ‘charms’, you know exactly how to make me say yes.”
Reo let out a hearty laugh at your remark. “You’re right,” his fingers reached out to your left ring finger, where his oath of forever lay glimmering.
God— he really did that. He put a ring on it. It was his name next to yours, his rings on your hand, his bed you share, and his forever you spend with. Four years and more to come, but Reo was certain he would never get over it.
Before his rationality left him and wrecked his own plans, Reo caressed your back, his hands moving dangerously low down your hip and giving it a squeeze, “Still wanna hear it from you though,” he mumbled softly against your lips, “So, what do you say in letting this poor man take you on a date as his valentine?”
You drew closer to his hold, your arms finding their place around his neck, hands occupied with the flowers now resting on his back, “I say,” you pressed your lips as if trying to think, “I’d like some kiss and maybe hear a please first—”
You couldn’t even finish teasing him because in a heartbeat, Reo closed the distance, seizing your lips in a fierce, hungry kiss drowning out the sound of words with an intensity that left no room for second guessing his invitation. Nothing about Mikage Reo was silent and subtle– not even when he kissed you. It had to be breathless, deep, urgent, and parting your lips in surrender.
His hands found their way, trailing with purpose along your spine, while his other traced the curve of your jaw with a feather-light touch. Teasing fingers then tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, desperate for more.
He pulled back first, leaving you light-headed. He flashed you one smirk, lips almost melting into yours.
“Please?”
Fuck. You didn’t need to be asked thrice. You nodded your head aimlessly, earning a chuckle from him. “Go then, pack some clothes. Our jet is waiting for us.”
“Jet? Did you mean car?” Where the hell was he taking you to use a jet for?
Seemingly reading the question on your face, he answered, “I know what I said, love. We’re going to Paris.”
“What?!” you exclaimed, squirming from his hold completely, “We could just dine somewhere close, Reo.”
Now, who told you he only had dinner in mind? Who did you take him for? You shouldn’t be surprised anymore— there’s nothing in this world that would come close to the satisfaction he got from spending lavishly on you. It was a reminder that he could and most certainly would give you everything you wanted. “You don’t like Paris?”
You tried to reason, heavy on the try so it seemed because you soon realized it was a mistake clarifying your point, “I mean, I do but—”
“I think I heard enough, love,” a sheepish smile formed on his lips, “I’ll wait for you here, alright?”
You rolled your eyes at him before retreating to your shared bedroom to prepare for freaking Paris. Of course, you're going. There’s really no winning against him, you’ve known that ever since. He longed to prove to you that he always had the irresistible charm of making you say yes.
Not that you'd ever thought of saying no. The ring weighing your finger down could attest to that.
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note. been seeing people saying their partners no longer ask them valentines bec they're tgt alr... reo would never do that btw do better
another note (pls tolerate me). i'm pretty sure i'm fighting for my life when this gets posted (it's qd!!) so here's me wishing all of you a happy hearts day 🩷
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mostmagical · 4 months
Text
was in desperate need of some serotonin today, so here's some quick post-reveal bed-sharing
Words: 1K+ Summary:
Marinette wakes up to a bump in the night. It’s her boyfriend (and not in the way you’d think).
Thump.
The sound tore Marinette from her sleep. She shot straight up in bed, frantically scanning the area for danger. With a start, she realized she wasn’t in her room. Memories were returning slowly as she recalled deciding with Adrien to spend the night at his for once, both too tired after the long day to trek the extra few blocks to hers.
She gasped— Adrien. Her hand patted down the area to her immediate left, seeking his warmth where she was used to finding it. A steady rhythm from her heart beat against her rib cage as she turned to see his side of the bed empty.
“Oof,” a soft sigh breathed from the floor.
Marinette was leaning over the edge in a flash, finding her boyfriend rubbing his eyes as he slowly sat up.
“Adrien!” she gasped. “What happened? What are you doing?”
His eyes flickered to hers, bright even in the dark, and he chuckled. “I think” —his hand moved to massage his side, low by his hip— “it was a well-timed kick to my side.”
Her heart dropped in her chest. “What?”
He laughed again, pulling himself back onto the bed and taking her into his arms. “What kind of dream were you having, Buginette?” he asked. “Must have been pretty intense.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” she said, pushing against his chest so she could continue looking into his face. Mirth danced through his green eyes. “Are you implying that I kicked you out of the bed?” she asked disbelievingly. “Why are you so calm about it?”
“Oh. It’s not the first time.”
“What?”
Adrien shrugged. “Well, usually, when we’re at your place, I just kinda end up pushed against the wall? The loft has that nice built-in baby gate, lucky for me. This is the first time I’ve actually fallen out.”
Her jaw dropped open. This was mortifying information to receive in the middle of the night. “Adrien,” she said sternly, taking his shoulders in her hands and staring intensely into his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me I kick you every night?”
“It’s not every night,” he replied dismissively. She gave him a look. “Okay, it is most nights, but still! Not every night!”
“I don’t care how often it is!” She shook his shoulders, his body pliantly rocking back and forth with her movements. “Why wouldn’t you tell me so I can stop? I must be ruining your sleep!”
“I don’t mind.” He smiled, the picture of innocence. “I think it’s cute.”
Marinette wanted to growl, but she knew it wouldn’t be nearly as intimidating as she wanted it to with the red she could feel all over her face. She groaned, dragging her hands down her cheeks until the skin stretched. “What’s wrong with you?”
Again, Adrien gathered her in his arms, this time with Marinette accepting the embrace. She curled up against his chest as she felt him press a delicate kiss to the crown of her head. “It’s an honor to be your punching bag,” he joked.
“Adrien,” she groaned, thunking her head against his shoulder, “shut up.”
“Sorry.”
“Wait, no, that makes me feel worse,” she hastened to say. “I need to apologize to you! I’m sorry.”
He chuckled again, his warm breath tickling her forehead as it passed through her hair. “Like I said, I really, really don’t mind.”
“Why don’t you mind?” She pouted, tilting her head up to look at him. “Doesn’t it wake you up?”
“Sometimes, yeah, but–” He sighed as he seemed to look for the right words. His mouth tilted in a half-smile. “I like knowing you’re still there with me.”
All the embarrassment drained out of her as she noticed his tone change. “Do you think I would go somewhere?”
“Technically, no,” he answered honestly, “but sometimes… in the back of my mind…”
She frowned. “You get anxious.”
He took in a breath. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Marinette wrapped her arms around his midsection, pressing her face into his worn cotton t-shirt. He smelled of citrus and the fresh linen scent of her Maman’s favorite laundry detergent, making her smile. He smelled of home.
“I’d never leave you, Adrien,” she murmured.
“I know.”
“Especially not in the middle of the night.”
He laughed. “I know.” His arms tightened around her as he laid their bodies back down against the pillows. “We’re a package deal. A bonded pair.”
“Exactly,” she huffed. Leaning up on one arm, she poked him in the chest. “But you really should have told me I was kicking you in my sleep. I feel like a jerk.”
“A cute jerk.”
“Stop calling it cute!”
He waggled his eyebrows as he grinned at her. “It’s not my fault that everything you do is cute.”
She growled frustratedly. She wanted to be angry, but instead she pressed a kiss on the tip of his nose. “You’re so annoying.”
“Annoying and cute?”
Rolling her eyes, she leaned back onto his chest. “Yes,” she huffed.
Adrien laughed again, the sound reverberating in her eardrum. She loved the quiet moments like this where she could hear everything— his laugh, his breaths, his heart beating in his chest. The arm wrapped around his middle tugged him closer, and in response he squeezed her tighter against him.
“Seriously,” she mumbled, “wake me up next time. I don’t want to kick you out of bed.”
“It’s really not a big deal,” he whispered back. She opened her mouth in protest, but he spoke again before she could, “Sometimes it’s just a little nudge. Like this:” His foot connected with her shin under the blankets, gently pushing against her with featherlight pressure.
“Oh.”
“See? Nothing.”
“But–”
“And the kicking,” he interrupted, knowing exactly what she was going to say, as always, “I don’t mind, because I can always tell when you’re having a dream. And I like knowing that.” His thumb was brushing over the exposed skin on her shoulder, lulling her back towards sleep.
Against the siren song, she shook her head. “Still, if you ever want to wake me up– even just to talk, I want you to wake me up,” she whispered.
“Now, I know that’s sleep-Marinette talking.”
She would have rolled her eyes if she thought he could see it. “Ha ha,” she said sarcastically. “I mean it. I’d gladly lose a couple hours’ sleep for you.” She turned her head to press a kiss to his chest, right over his heart. “Especially knowing you would for me.”
“I would. Anytime.”
“I know.”
“Okay,” he mumbled into her hair, his lips brushing her scalp, “I’ll try not to let you attack me inexorably again.” She heard him breathe deeply, his chest expanding beneath her head.
“You’re lucky I’m so tired right now, kitty cat,” she mumbled, her eyes sliding shut.
“Yeah, I really am. I love you."
"Love you too..." she managed before sleep pulled her back in, warm in Adrien’s arms.
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xuchiya · 3 months
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badboy yunho au ? ceo reader?
why not?
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 "look ... at ... that ..." each word met a deep groan, yunho laughed breathlessly as his hips slowly but teasingly grind on your hips. you clawed at his veiny arms as you whined pathetically, “do-don’t tease yu … i still have a meeting at 10.” 
   your pencil skirt bundled around your waist, blouse unbuttoned with your tits out and hardened, stockings ripped along with your favorite set of panty hanging on your ankle, swaying as yunho buried his cock deeper. his girth and length taking you to heaven. 
    yunho's pants pooled around his feet as he hurriedly pounds you on top of your office table, your breasts bouncing freely in the broad daylight. his hips hasten its pace, rolling two of his fingers around your thick pussy to drive you on the edge, "never knew i would be able to fuck you in your office ... a place where anyone can see us."
  you bit your lip to tone down your moans but yunho wanted to hear them as he slaps your tits making you gasp in pain and pleasure, “moan for me or i won’t let you cum.” he grip you left breast tightly then shaking them as he busily circle his fingers faster on your pussy. The multiple pleasure around made you grip your table as your back arch from the intense ecstasy, “f-fuck yunho!”
  you hear him chuckle deeply as he removes both hands on your body before wrapping them around your thighs, “that’s my boss.” next thing, yunho had your legs were place together on top of his left shoulder as his cock drills deeper and harder until he splits your legs to his waist, placing his hands around your waist, you bit your lip but fail as you squeal as you coat his cock with your juices “i’m gonna cum– fuck fuck fuck!”
    with final snap of his hips, yunho moan with his head thrown back, sweat drifting down his neck to his black shirt, “shit~.” he chuckles, pulling out as he watch his cum drips out of your hole, licking his lips, he mustered his saliva in his mouth before spitting them on your pussy. He run his fingers before plunging them inside, “it makes me want to fuck you more knowing you’ll walk around that office– full of those scumbags–  with my cum dripping on that pussy. My pussy. They should know you’re mine.” 
Yunho pulled out his fingers, licking them clean before pulling you up, still recovering from your orgasm, chest heaving, hair dishevelled and clothes wrinkle. He chuckles softly, doing his best to tame down your hair while you button up your blouse.
         When you look– close to being presentable— you grab your things for the said meeting, turning to yunho who pull up his pants and buckles his belt, putting his black leather jacket on, “i’ll see you later at home?” he nodded, pulling you in for a small kiss on your lips, “of course, want me to pick you up?”
   The thought of yunho picking you up with his GT400 moto was something out of the ordinary but who are you to decline? your smile widens, “sure, love you!”
    Instead of replying to you with an ‘i love you too’, you got a hard smack on your ass. You spun on your heel with a stunned face, he had a smirk on his lips looking proud at what he did, “love you too boss…” he playfully saluted while watching your face turn red before disappearing on your meeting office.
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greensimp · 11 months
Text
Gyutaro x Reader:
He nearly kills you. Regrets it immediately.
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______________________________________________________________
Canon!Gyutaro x gn!Reader
WC: 1.9k
Warnings: violence, angst, threats of violence, vulgar language
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You scoff and glare up at your partner with annoyance.
“Gyutaro, it’s not a big deal!”
The demon you’re arguing with stands above you, a frustrated scowl painting his features. Bringing a hand up to the side of his face, he growled and began scratching at himself.
“Yes it is, damnit! Do you realize how fucking dangerous that was?! What if I wasn’t around to get you away from there?!”
You balled your fists and stomped your foot childishly, indignation evident in your stance.
“I didn’t need your help! I was fine on my own! I’ve survived on my own a lot longer that I’ve had you around!”
Anger bubbled up in Gyutaro’s chest at your infuriating naivety. This wasn’t some stroll you took a little way outside of Yoshiwara. The little stunt you pulled tonight could have ended your life.
What did you do?
You left his territory entirely. The only reason he knew about it was because he spotted you speaking to an unfamiliar man from the shadows hours before. It wasn’t unlike you to socialize with strangers, but Gyutaro knew from the start that something about him wasn’t “genuine.”
So he stalked you. He stalked you until that man led you so far away from the Kyogoku house that only the quiet noises of the forest could be heard.
What the hell were you thinking?
If it wasn’t obvious before, it was now. This lowly demon was luring you to his feeding grounds. Gyutaro could read the overzealous and smug confidence all over the worm’s face. Despite smelling him and Daki’s scent, he thought he could pick off a couple humans for himself.
Unfortunately for this little bug, he couldn’t have chosen a worse human to prey upon.
When it was apparent that the demon was about to make its move, it turned around and froze, practically pissing himself as the kanji-filled eyes of Upper Moon Six bored down upon him from behind the human he lured. You were confused at first before turning around to see what he was so scared of.
Oh.
“Goin’ somewhere? Y’know, its rude to be taking off with other people’s things, cretin.”
The pathetic demon tried to shake his hands in front of him and scurry away.
“I-I’m so s-sorry sir, I d-didn’t know this one w-was y-“
He couldn’t even finish his sentence before a hand wrapped itself around his mouth and jaw, crushing it in painfully.
“I don’t recall asking for your pathetic apology, whelp.”
Neither you or the demon saw Gyutaro move. It was like he was behind you one moment, then crushing the demon’s face the next.
He was pissed. Blindingly so.
You winced as a disgusting cracking sound reverberated through the forest. Gyutaro had drove the demon’s head so far into the ground that it made a crater. It wouldn’t be regenerating from that by sunrise.
Your legs felt weak as you stared at the blood. Then, Gyutaro rose to his feet and turned to you, his normal scowl now clearly on edge and splattered with blood.
“We’re going home. Now.”
You may have survived all this time, but you also had your beauty and luck on your side. Gyutaro had neither. He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t born yesterday. You’re too comfortable with the knowledge of demons existing. You’re not cautious enough.
The room became deadly silent.
His scratching and growling ceased, with the only sounds being the ever-hastening blood rushing through your ears.
Your nerves were on edge, Gyutaro’s sudden silence freaking you out more than his display of anger earlier.
“Gyutaro…?”
He didn’t reply right away, only slowly and deliberately lowering his arm to his side.
You furrowed your brows and huffed.
“Oh, so now I’m getting the silent treatment?”
You were about to continue provoking him until you saw the veins and flesh under the skin of his forearms begin to writhe and pulse. You took a step back, now suddenly nervous.
“H-hey, what’re you doing?”
“I don’t think you understand how much danger you’re in right now.”
Two growths began emerging from Gyutaro’s hands.
“W-what do you mean?!”
Another step back, but this time, Gyutaro mirrored you with a step forward.
“You think this a world where you can just walk around and trust anyone you meet? There are things out there. Things much scarier than me. And you think you can just throw yourself out there for them to take you from me?”
The writhing flesh in his hands now took the distinct shape of... sickles?
The weight of the situation now dawned on you. Your eyes slowly widened in raw fear as he took another firm step your way. Your breath faltered, your fight or flight response automatically causing you to freeze, despite wanting to run.
His vision was blurred with rage, he didn’t care that you were terrified of him in that moment. The only thing going through his mind was that he needed to instill the fear of demons in you that you needed. You needed to know that things like him are hiding a side of themselves that only doomed humans ever get to see.
He loves you too much to let you die.
You finally gained control of your legs (barely). Of course, the second you tried to stumble backwards, you slipped and fell straight on your ass. Still, you desperately scoot yourself back, whimpering and breathing heavily as he menacingly stepped closer to you.
“I-I’m sorry Gyu! P-please don’t hurt me!”
Your pleas didn’t get though to him. He was in fight mode. His only instinct being to protect the people he loves. It just so happened that his instincts were being a bit counterproductive.
You squeaked when your back hit the wall.
Your pupils dilated and tears fell from your eyes. You barely recognized the monster in front of you. It was like the gentle giant you fell in love with traded bodies with a pure evil.
Whatever point he wanted to get across to you, it worked.
Oh. It worked.
A razor sharp point prodded at you under your chin tauntingly. A sickening, wretched giggle came from his throat.
You felt your heart jump in your throat as you stared death in the eyes.
“Do you understand, now? Do you fear, death? I bet you do, love.”
Laughter followed his taunts as he pressed the blade deeper.
“BROTHER! WHAT’RE YOU DOING?!”
A feminine voice practically screeched from the doorway.
As if someone flipped a switch, Gyutaro’s tunnel vision cleared. The fog of anger and spite dissipated into painful clarity.
His sickening grin fell instantly, confusion flooding his mind as to why you were looking at him like a cornered animal.
Then, his stomach practically dropped to the floor when he realized what he was holding to your throat.
He jerked his sickle back and trembled, his eyes widening in horror at what he’d done to you.
If he had broken your skin… it would have certainly cut your life short. The poison that laces his blades is thousands of times more potent than the deadliest snakes of the world.
You brought a hand to your throat and sobbed, falling to your side.
He just stared at his sickle and shook, stepping away from you.
He didn’t even notice Daki darting past him to get to you.
“Why did you do that, brother?!”
His eyes snapped to his sister’s scathing glare.
“I-I-“
Another step back.
He almost killed you.
He’s pathetic.
He’s worthless.
He doesn’t deserve you.
You’re scared of him now.
You got what you wanted, Gyutaro. Now they’re scared of you.
Now they hate you.
Before Daki could yell at him again, he darted out of the room.
Even Daki couldn’t find Gyutaro for hours. She’s never seen her brother shaken up this bad and she had no idea what to do. When you told what happened, she sort of flipped at your stupidity, too. Although not as… murder-y. She understood why Gyutaro would be cross with you, but she was still surprised that he’s go so far as to traumatize you. She knew better than anyone that he’d never even dream of killing you.
She brought you some food and water before setting out into the night to find Gyutaro again, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
Now that you’d calmed down, the hurt finally sunk in. Why would he do this? Did he really love you? If Daki hadn’t interrupted… would he have truly done it.
His maniacal laughter played in your mind like a broken record, causing you to cringe and shiver. The mouth that had uttered such sweet words to you… used to taunt you. To make you feel like prey.
A small creak in the doorway caused you to jump in your skin. You were still very on edge.
And the figure in it did not help to calm you.
Gyutaro’s face was shrouded in shadow, his mouth in a pursed frown.
The air grew thick with tension as he just stood there.
Then, he took a small step in, which had you involuntarily jump backwards in fear.
Your reaction to his presence made his chest feel tight. Guilt practically strangled him by the neck. He wanted you to be afraid of demons… not him.
But he is a demon.
A pathetic, filthy demon.
When he took another step into the room, something caught your eye that made your breath hitch.
In the light of the oil lamps in your room, a faint sheen of wetness trailed down Gyutaro’s cheek.
Was…
Was he crying?
You’d never seen him so much as sniffle, let alone cry.
You finally feel the guilt oozing from him, your stomach sinking.
Before you could speak, he collapsed to his knees and stared at you through misty eyes. You noticed a slight tremble in them.
“I- I’m so sorry-“
He’s pathetic.
He took a deep, shaky breath and let out the most sorrowful wail you’ve ever heard from a creature. He hunched over, bringing his hands to the sides of face and digging his nails into the skin.
“FORGIVE ME”
Pathetic. Worthless.
You just stared in complete awe at the heaving man in front of you. The display of vulnerability had your heart in a vice grip, whatever apprehension you held for Gyutaro fleeing your conscious like a gust of wind.
He was a broken man.
He was at your mercy.
He was groveling to you.
A pair of arms squeezing his head paused his crying. The warmth of your embrace came as an utter shock.
“I understand, Gyutaro. And… I do fear death.”
You echoed his words from earlier in a wobbly tone.
You fluttered your eyes shut and squeezed him to your chest.
“I’m scared of demons. That much is true.”
A single tear fell from your eye and you hiccuped.
“But…”
Memories of Gyutaro holding you in his arms during a firework display, memories him lovingly petting your hair as you snuggle into him, memories of him making love to you, all flowed through your head.
What you saw earlier wasn’t your Gyutaro.
“I could never stay afraid of you.”
Gyutaro’s breath hitched as your words pierced his heart.
He really didn’t deserve you.
Here you are, just forgiving him after he tried to kill you only hours before.
He sobbed and squeezed his eyes shut before wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his head into your stomach.
He didn’t deserve you.
He didn’t deserve you.
But somehow…
He still has you.
And he’s never letting go.
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neptuneiris · 4 months
Text
Behind the Scenes (04/05)
Behind the Acceptance
pairing: actor!aemond × fem!reader
summary: there are new changes for you and Aemond, he wants to rectify himself for past mistakes and you get used to your new life with the father of your son present.
word counter: 10.2K (consider it as a christmas gift, love you all❤)
previous part • next part • series masterlist
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I'M SO SORRY!
i know the wait has been too much and you don't know how sorry i am. i experienced stress during my last week of uni before leaving for vacation and i got a new job, which consumes my time and i couldn't edit or do any writing, but i managed to find small times to write and that's why it's taken me so long. i appreciate your understanding, really🥺
I would like to wish you all merry christmas and a happy new year, my best wishes to all of you and also to your families, have a great time and God bless you all beautiful people, you are amazing and truly thank you for so much🥰
now yes, enjoy!
warnings: aemond dad melting our hearts and that's it:)
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When Aemond told you to please go back to work and stop running away so that the two of you could face all this together, you didn't quite understand what he meant by 'go back to work'.
However, the next morning after waking up and starting to prepare breakfast for Aenar, you received an unexpected call that answered your question.
It's an unknown number so you accept the call with some caution.
"Y/N speaking? This is Michelle Watson, from the Warner Bros studio production department," she says and your heart jumps.
"Hello?"
You speak on the other end of the line, holding your phone to your ear.
It's HBO, who Aemond is working with right now and where you left your job thrown after unexpectedly meeting him again.
Nerves soon set in and you hold your breath, already feeling ashamed for leaving the shooting set like that without saying anything to anyone and creating a complete circus the moment Aemond called your name in the trailer in front of everyone.
"Yes, she speaks," you reply nervously.
"We want to inform you that despite what has happened, we understand it and the circumstances that led you to leave unexpectedly during your working hours," she tells you in a soft and formal voice, "And we will expect you tomorrow without any problem to resume work."
You frown completely, hesitate a little and blink several times in disbelief, not quite understanding.
"I'm sorry… what do you mean by resuming work?" you ask, barely able to contain your own surprise and disbelief.
"Some conversations took place," she explains, "Mr. Targaryen was quite insistent on convincing the production team to reconsider your situation. He advocated on your behalf, explained the circumstances and your entire track record as an excellent professional makeup artist so that you could continue to work with us."
With your lips parted and your eyes wide open, you are speechless for a moment, staring at a spot in your living room with your heart pounding, definitely not expecting to hear any of this after everything that has happened on this day.
You didn't even expect Aemond to decide to do this for you after everything that happened with him and Criston.
And just when you were starting to worry about how you were going to pay the rent for this apartment and even started to make a schedule in your mind to go get a job somewhere else tomorrow or even today.
"So if there's no problem and everything is fine with you, we'll expect you tomorrow at 7:00 A.M."
Completely speechless.
You can't even control your own heart rate.
But in spite of that, you can't help but feel a huge relief run through your entire body, where you still feel overwhelmed by the generosity and gesture of trust they are offering you, but you definitely feel completely relieved and grateful.
"Yes, yes, of course," you hasten to say, trying to control your emotions, "I'll be there. Thank you so much."
They give you a few more details, you ask few more questions and finally end the call, which leaves you with mixed emotions as you silently contemplate that you still have this new possibility of a better life for you and Aenar.
But you also think about Aemond.
And you will also wait to see how Aemond's integration into your son's little life will be now.
You really appreciate this gesture, you know that only he can do something like this with his influence and connections.
And in fact it gives you the confidence that he will keep his word that no one else will interfere in your and Aenar's life, only the two of you will make the decisions.
Arriving at the recording set, you leave Aenar in the nursery and then you enter the corridors of the whole big production, which is buzzing with its usual atmosphere with its twinkling lights, technical equipment with the huge cameras, microphones and all the sets ready.
You honestly feel nervous knowing that tomorrow you and Aemond will be working in the same place again, like in the old days.
But that's why you try to be as prepared as possible and you won't let all kinds of personal matters interfere with your work.
And once you arrive, you take a moment, take a deep breath and push open the door, where that familiar atmosphere once again envelops you.
You don't even know why but your heart is pounding as you walk down the halls and every step leads you to your area, the makeup and wardrobe trailer.
You assume it's out of shame after what happened yesterday.
Unfortunately your entrance doesn't go unnoticed and as you close the door behind you as you walk just a little into the trailer, some curious faces turn to see you, including Jess, who stops her usual routine and rushes over to you, her eyes wide with surprise.
You hug her back gently, feeling relieved and less tense by the warm welcome from Jess who, even though the two of you don't know each other very well, she actually seems like a very nice person and her personality shows you that.
"Ah Y/N, what a relief to see you again!"
She exclaims with her tone full of joy.
"God, I thought you wouldn't come back," she says as she hugs you excitedly, providing you with some comfort.
"I'm so sorry about yesterday," you say with a regretful gesture and you both break the hug, "I shouldn't have left like that and you don't know how embarrassed I feel. I'm really sorry."
"Oh no, don't worry about it," she assures you instantly, making a nonchalant gesture, "That's all in the past. The important thing is that you're back and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it," she comforts you with a small smile, "We have a lot of work to do today and we need to get you up to speed right away."
Jess, full of energy, ushers you further into the trailer while you greet your other co-workers. Then she explains the day's itinerary precisely, pointing out schedules, wardrobe changes and other important details.
All the while you nod, thanking her for her guidance and trying to keep up. In the midst of all the preparations, the huge door opens again and Aemond is now the one who makes his presence known.
Your gaze meets his and you see the obvious and unexpected surprise in his eyes at seeing you again, but there's not much reaction from either of you as instantly the makeup artists call him over and guide him to start prepping him for today's filming scenes.
And Jess also takes your arm, guiding you to the back of the trailer where the dressing rooms are located explaining what you will be doing, forcing you to look away from him.
And you can only feel Aemond's gaze on you until he loses sight of you.
Jess continues to explain to you, but you can't help but think and wonder certain things, like if everyone here, even Jess, knows about you and Aemond... what you once were and that you have a child together.
The behavior of both of you yesterday was very obvious, that's what you would think if you were an expectant one, so surely there must be some speculation.
And at that moment you remind yourself that your priority right now is your work and that the personal should be kept out of your work environment, so you shouldn't even think about it.
Finally you focus on following Jess's directions, putting aside distractions and preparing for the day.
Jess leaves you alone to take care of her own work and you start with yours, where you spend about an hour still in the back of the trailer, where you check and prepare the costumes that already have to be ready for the scenes that will be filmed soon.
When in the middle of everything, you hear some footsteps approaching behind you and thinking it must be one of the other actors or one of your co-workers, you turn around and the first thing you notice is that silver hair.
Aemond enters this section of the trailer a little unsure, without saying anything, while you also watch him without saying anything.
He is ready to record his scenes with that scar on the left side of his face that his character has and he only lacks the costume.
Until finally he speaks first.
You knew that having a conversation with him again would happen soon, so you're not surprised.
But for a moment there is a tense silence and a slight nervousness and insecurity on the part of both of them, where a clash of emotions is reflected in each other's gazes.
"Hey," he says in a soft, low voice, taking a couple of steps towards you.
You try to smile a little in his direction, not knowing exactly what to say or what to do.
"Hey," you wave back.
There is an awkward pause before Aemond again takes the initiative, taking a few cautious and slow steps towards you.
You bite your lips and lower your gaze for a moment, as he puts a hand to the back of his neck and looks so insecure and nervous standing there, surprising you a bit, as that behavior in him is unusual.
He usually always has that confident attitude in everything he says and does.
"I'm glad you're back," he admits to you, his low tone full of sincerity, "It's good to see you around again."
His words and that friendly gesture take you a bit by surprise, and although you still feel overwhelmed by the unexpected situation, you appreciate the way he is leading in handling all of this to start working together for Aenar's well-being, leaving past tensions behind.
"Thank you," you reply, feeling that sense of relief in your chest again, "Oh, hum… and thank you for talking to production so I could come back," you say a little shyly but gratefully, "You didn't have to."
He lets out a scoff in a nonchalant and also absurd gesture, frowning slightly his nose and forehead.
"Please, it was the least I could do," he tells you softly and with a warm tone, "Besides, it was nothing. I was just afraid you'd decide not to come back."
You hum in understanding.
"I thought about that," you confess to him, lowering your gaze for a moment, "But things were going to be easier for both of us with Aenar if I came back here," you explain, "Still, it was a very kind gesture of you."
Aemond nods, his gaze conveying a mixture of emotions that reflect both relief to see you back here, understanding, and also regret for the past that still haunts him. But he doesn't let those thoughts invade him too much at that moment.
Again there is silence in between for a few seconds, when he speaks again.
"How is Aenar?" he asks in a voice charged with a mixture of happiness, nostalgia and longing for his son.
"He's fine," you say in a soft voice, "He's in the studio nursery. Mary takes very good care of him," you add, wanting to reassure him that his son is being properly cared for.
He nods slowly, humming in response, trying to hide the intensity of his emotions in his gaze.
"That's good, I'm glad to hear that," he replies, vulnerability in his tone and gaze.
The air between the two of you still lingers, charged with emotions that neither of you dares to express openly. However, taking advantage of the conversation, Aemond decides to propose something.
He just met him yesterday and can't wait to see him again, to be in his company.
Yesterday's hours were simply not enough. And knowing that his son is well brings him relief and a feeling he hasn't experienced before since he found out he is a father.
"If you want, I can pay for a trusted babysitter for him," he offers and this gets your full attention, "I'm just saying… so you don't always have to bring him with you to work," he says with a hesitation, his tone betraying his insecurity about his proposal.
You remain silent for a moment, not knowing what exactly to say, in fact processing the unexpected offer. And Aemond can't help but feel even more unnerved by your silence.
"I-I… I don't know," you murmur, hesitant.
This nursery in the set is at least in the same place as you and that gives you relief that whatever happens, you can rush to him right away.
The idea of a babysitter strikes you as a mixture of relief and concern.
In the morning you'd have more time getting ready to come to work and it wouldn't be as much of a burden on you, yet you've never left someone to take care of Aenar while you're away.
But leaving him at home and coming all the way here to work, that causes you hesitation, besides the fact that you have to know the person who will take care of your child perfectly, as well as have confidence in her, above all.
"Only if that makes you feel more comfortable," Aemond adds softly, "But if that's not what you want, that's fine."
You bite your lips, feeling uneasy at the thought of someone else caring for your son and having him away when you're working.
"And you know someone who might be trustworthy?" you ask attentively and still with hesitation in your gaze.
"Yes," he tells you immediately, softly, "Rhaenyra has an army of babysitters to take care of my younger nephews. I can ask her for help with that and I know she'll say yes," he assures you.
"And they are professional babysitters?"
"Yeah, yeah, Nyra is also very careful with the selection and the babysitters she has hired have years of experience and so far several of them have worked with her for a few years now."
And after a moment's reflection, you agree.
And as convincing as the information is, still a mixture of worry and resignation envelopes your body.
But you knew that sooner or later you would have to face the situation of balancing your job with the responsibility of caring for your little one, accepting the idea that you won't always be able to have him with you.
"All right," you nod to him, "But I'd like to do some interviews first."
"Yeah, of course. I'll take care of that, don't worry," he says softly, nodding to you and you nod back.
"Thank you, Aemond."
"You don't have to thank me, Y/N, it's for our son. And if he or you need anything, please just let me know."
Seeing Aemond so willing to be a present father and his desire to be involved in his son's life, to some extent relieves you and surprises you a little, clearly because of what happened at first when you found out you were pregnant.
But so far… he has really shown you that he wants to be present and without having Criston and all his team around anymore.
The slight tension in the air is felt again as you and he continue to navigate the terrain of this new dynamic, which feels a little weird and you feel very nervous, though you don't even know why, while he at all times seems unsure.
And in an attempt to diffuse the tension, now you're the one who speaks first.
"Okay," you nod, "And if you…" you try to say a little nervously and with some caution and insecurity, "If you want to go see Aenar at the nursery or even at the apartment, you can," you assure him with a soft tone, "I never said you couldn't visit him and I don't plan to take that right away from you."
Vulnerability is reflected both in your words and in Aemond's expression, who with his soft face and with his gaze full of various emotions, places a small gentle smile on his lips.
"I'd love that."
Your words mean more to him than you probably realize. That sincere gesture of openness on your part, Aemond deeply appreciates.
Just as he appreciates that the conversation has reached a level of understanding and cooperation that neither of you had anticipated, but that you definitely appreciate. It doesn't end there yet, though.
"Can I ask you something?"
You nod, with no problem.
"Sure."
"What will you be leaving work on when your shift is over with Aenar?" he tells you interested and attentive.
"Um… well, yesterday I took the bus," you explain, considering that just yesterday was supposedly your first day, "And I had already planned that if I finished late, I'd take an Uber. Like now in the morning I was running a little late and took an Uber," you reply, trying to explain your transportation routine.
In fact there is nothing wrong with moving this way, many people do it, besides you don't have many options.
But that's what Aemond doesn't want, he wants to make your life a little easier, especially since Aenar lives with you and he doesn't want to risk something bad happening to both of you one day with public transport.
"Well, if you want, I can take the two of you," he also offers without hesitation, "Or if it seems too much, I can ask my driver to pick you up and take you wherever you need to go, without problem," he assures you, "I just don't want you to move that way with Aenar or by yourself."
This new unexpected offer from Aemond also surprises you, that you even think about turning him down, telling him it's not necessary.
Mostly you see it from Aenar's safety side.
But his concern is genuine and also you know that then moving you will start to be a problem.
You know you can't afford Uber every day, the fares aren't exactly cheap and there are other needs you have to take care of, besides taking the bus late could be dangerous.
"Well…" you look at him hesitantly and a little embarrassed, "You won't have a problem with that?"
"No, of course not," he answers you instantly.
You nod in his direction, grateful for his consideration.
"Yes, it's fine and seriously thank you for this too," you can't help but say, "Sometimes transport is complicated."
"Don't worry, it's fine."
He is about to say something else when a third voice interrupts him, entering the same space as you.
"Yeah, I know, sorry, I'm already on it," he assures her instantly.
"Aemond, are you ready now?"
Enters one of your co-workers, watching him intently and instantly with concern at the sight of him still in his civilian clothes.
"For God's sake, why aren't you dressed yet? Your scene is going to shoot in less than fifteen minutes!"
"I'll be back in ten minutes. Hurry up, please," the worried girl says and hurries away.
You instantly at that moment decide that the two of you can talk later and hand him his clothes from the scene he'll be shooting soon and he thanks you, heading for one of the small dressing rooms quickly.
When he finishes putting on his clothes, you quickly help him look perfect for filming the scene.
"I'll be seeing you," he tells you before leaving and you nod.
"Sure."
And from that moment on, over the next few days, everything changes as much for Aemond as it does for you.
He kept his word to drive you and Aenar back home every time your shift ended. And if he was still filming scenes, he would send his driver to take you instead of him, also to bring you in the mornings.
The relationship is cordial and collaborative and while there is no romantic reconciliation involved, there is a determination to build a more stable and secure future for Aenar, as well as prioritizing his well-being above all else.
At work, too, the dynamic between the two of you changes completely. Communication is professional, as it should be, but in every interaction there is a complicity that seems to have evolved.
There is a quiet understanding, a new focus on cooperation and mutual respect that is taking shape.
Also Aemond kept his word to hire a fully trusted babysitter and while he took care of that, sometimes you found him in the nursery with Aenar, keeping him company and playing with him.
At first this caused you some noise and also confusion, since Aemond is under the public eye spending quality time with his son and doesn't bother to hide it, so you wondered if already everyone working here, also Aemond's co-workers, knows that he has a son with you.
Again that sight couldn't help but make you smile with a certain nostalgic look, watching the interaction of those two silver-haired heads in their own world.
But it made you feel happy to see your little boy laughing and playing with his father.
And if so, you doubt that it will come out soon, because working in this production of whatever position, there is a confidentiality contract for everything, even for the personal life of the actors.
But when the shooting of this show is over, everyone is probably going to know about it. Although it seems that Aemond doesn't even think about it and doesn't really care.
So you decide not to ask him anything about it and how Criston and his whole team is going to take it.
You honestly don't know what Aemond has done with him, what they have talked about and what exactly happened for him to leave you and Aenar alone.
And you don't want to know. You've had enough of him and everything he did to you. And fortunately you live in peace and feel safe to have Aemond on your side this time.
And before you can say anything, Aemond steps forward with a soft little smile.
When one day on your day off you find yourself making dinner while Aenar watches his favorite cartoon in the living room and you supervise him occasionally from where you are, there's a knock at the door.
You're traumatized with the thought that maybe it's Criston and something bad is going to happen, but when you open the door you find Aemond with a woman by his side.
"Hey."
"Hi," you try to smile, a little confused.
"Are you busy? I-I didn't know and thought I'd just come over," he says, "And I'd let you know but I don't have your number or-or something."
"No, no, it's fine, I'm just making dinner," you hasten to say.
"I came because I wanted to introduce you to Elinda Massey," he tells you, pointing to the woman next to him and she looks at you with a warm smile, "One of the babysitters Rhaenyra recommended to me to take care of Aenar."
"Oh," you nod, now understanding.
You watch Elinda and she radiates warmth and assurance in her gaze, instantly feeling comfortable with her presence.
"It's nice to meet you, Elinda," you say with a small smile, extending your hand to her.
"Same to you, Y/N," she replies, shaking his hand with yours, "Aemond has told me so much about you and Aenar. I'm very excited to meet him as well."
Aemond beside her nods, his expression calm.
"Elinda is professional and very experienced. I wanted to introduce you to her and thought maybe we could do a little interview together, just to get to know her and see how she gets along with Aenar."
You instantly nod again.
"Oh yeah, yeah, sure, come on in," you step aside, allowing them to pass, "Aenar is watching his favorite cartoon," you say as you close the door behind you.
Aemond instantly walks towards him, making a sound of surprise, catching his attention and Aenar instantly notices him, smiling big at the sight of him, his huge blue eyes lighting up and reaching out his little arms towards him.
Both you and Aemond know Elinda better and you realize that she is a woman who has all the necessary experience and training. Besides the fact that when she approaches Aenar, he instantly laughs and plays with her.
Aemond laughs and takes him in his arms, starting to leave a bunch of kisses on his huge chubby cheeks, making him laugh as he holds him against his chest and speaks to him in a honeyed tone.
And you again can't help but smile as you watch the scene.
There is still that feeling of worry in you knowing that you will have to leave Aenar in someone else's care.
But Elinda shows you so much in so few hours, she tells you about her experience, shows you letters of recommendation, first aid certificates, as well as other care and Aenar has fun with her.
Aemond stays a few more moments in Aenar's company, playing games and watching the cartoons he likes, while you finish dinner and cleaning the kitchen.
The three of you establish a work schedule for her, as well as you tell her some recommendations and observations regarding Aenar.
And once everything is ready and clarified, she leaves and Aemond tells you that he has already taken care of all the payment details with her.
Every now and then you hear how Aemond asks him questions in a honeyed tone and repeats the same expressions he does when he sees his favorite character on TV, and then both start laughing.
Those sounds, the sound of your son's laughter and also Aemond's expressions, unconsciously make you smile and you watch from the kitchen as Aemond makes funny gestures or faces to make him laugh and attacks him with a lot of kisses all over his face or tickles.
Then you walk him to the door once he is ready to leave.
And there the two of them make themselves comfortable on the couch, eventually Aenar falls asleep on Aemond's lap, his back and head against his chest. He cautiously gets up holding him gently and puts him to sleep, while you thank him.
"Oh, right, I almost forgot," he says stopping in front of the door and turns to you, "This is for you."
You see him take his wallet from his back pocket and inside it, he pulls out what appears to be a black card and holds it out to you. This catches your attention and also confuses you, taking the card with that confusion, not understanding.
And only when you take a good look at it in your hands do you realize that it is a bank card.
"It's yours."
He says and you frown more, then raise your gaze to him asking for an explanation.
"I can only send money to it, I don't have direct access. You'll get the PIN from the bank, tomorrow after the shoot, I'll take you to activate it," he tells you, "You know, it's in case you need money to buy something for Aenar or for you, whatever you need."
Then when you fully understand the explanation and the purpose of this, you start to panic.
"Aemond—
You try to say feeling the lump in your throat and your heart starting to pound.
"I know I didn't tell you about this, but please, I want to do it," he interrupts you with a pleading tone so you won't reject him or reproach him about it, "Besides, this is necessary. Sometimes I will have to travel to other cities for shootings or events and I won't be able to see you or him and I want to make sure you don't lack anything. So just accept it, please."
"But—
"Please," he insists.
This really seems too much to you and you have an idea of the amount of money the card must already have. And no… in spite of everything, you don't want to accept this and feel that you are taking advantage of him.
You watch him still with hesitation and worry on your face, tension hanging in the air as you and he stand in complete silence, saying nothing for a few seconds.
You look back down at the card in your hands and Aemond follows your gaze, both of you standing face to face.
And it just seems that Aemond reads your thoughts by the hesitation and insecurity on your face.
"If you don't want to use it to also buy things for yourself, use it just to buy Aenar whatever he needs," he tells you softly, "After all, I was going to do this sooner or later, wasn't I? It's my responsibility to make sure he doesn't lack anything and that's what I'm going to do."
You let out a long breath, beginning to feel less of the weight of the luxurious and clearly exclusive black card in your hands, with his words beginning to soften your chest at the mention of Aenar.
"Fine," you mutter finally, letting out a sigh and raising your gaze to him, "B-but I'll only use it for things that Ae-
This gesture from Aemond is a clear sign of concern and responsibility he feels towards you and his son. And you truly feel that genuine desire that he wants to contribute for the welfare of both of you.
You try to clarify but he quickly speaks up.
"Yeah, okay," he nods at you, "Don't worry. Just… use it."
You nod again.
"Thank you, Aemond."
A slight flicker of concern appears in his gaze and he quickly tries to be able to struggle to find the right words to be able to explain himself so you don't misunderstand him.
"I don't want you to feel like I'm trying to—
"No, no, I don't think so," you tell him softly, with understanding, "This…" you look back down at the card in your hands and let out a sigh, "This is actually necessary and very helpful…. you really don't know how much I appreciated it."
He nods, his expression relieving a bit as he sees your behavior and also as you accept his support.
"Easy, it's okay," he assures you in a soft murmur.
"Also…" he starts to say with some nervousness but definitely more confident, "I wanted to ask you if you have social security for Aenar and you," he says with a serene expression, looking directly at you.
Again silence settles between the two of you but the air is different, calmer and less tense, feeling the mutual understanding.
And Aemond, after the two of you say nothing for another long few seconds, thinks it best to talk at this point about another plan he has in mind.
This also immediately catches your attention and you watch him warily, tilting your head to one side and starting to get an incredulous look on your face.
"You're not seriously thinking that—
"Y/N, please," he interrupts you, "This is no problem for me, really," he insists, "I just need to know."
"But—
"This is also important and I can pay for it."
"But it's a lot of money and I don't think—
"Do you really think I'll let you and Aenar go through life without being covered?" he asks you incredulously, "I can handle this. I really can."
His words continue to reflect that genuine commitment and you, despite your concern, feel something warm invade your chest, especially the gentle and willing way he is looking at you.
After all that has happened, seeing Aemond so determined to contribute to your son's well-being gives you a new hope and opportunity for Aenar's future.
The costs are too much, nothing you could really afford, not even for Aenar, since your salary was not much and had to cover other needs. You couldn't even afford it on your current salary.
You have always worked very hard to try to give Aenar everything he needs. Among them, paying for a social insurance for him, in case of anything.
But you could never afford it.
And that suddenly Aemond is offering it to you so easily, clearly because he can afford it, you feel somewhat overwhelmed and also feel that it is too much.
"And you're completely—
"Yes, I am," he interrupts you again, being very clear and honest with you, "This won't be any trouble, really," he assures you.
You want to tell him thank you, but the words get stuck in your throat. However, Aemond sees the gratitude is visible in your gaze, along with your concern and how you find yourself overthinking it.
So he just gives you a look of understanding and total reassurance.
"I'll be leaving. You need to rest. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
You let out a long breath, bite your lips and nod in his direction.
"Okay."
"Good night," he says softly as he opens the apartment door again.
"Good night. Drive safe."
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Lately the days have been more… peaceful.
But as the days progressed, you realized that it was useless to feel that way because when you returned to the apartment, everything was absolutely fine. And also everything is easier when you transport yourself with Aemond's help or with the help of his driver.
Having Elinda as a babysitter, your mornings are easier and she does an excellent job with Aenar, so you have nothing to worry about.
At first you would leave home feeling horrible and your whole body tense, always alert to your phone and exaggeratedly paranoid.
Aemond also one day told you the same thing, that lately things have been quiet, even the recordings have not been heavy for him compared to other days or other jobs.
And for the same reason that he is busy filming, he hasn't attended any events or interviews, that happens rather after he finishes filming a new show or movie and there is still time left for that.
Aemond drives in silence and the soft background music on low volume fills the entire interior of the car while you watch the city through the windows and Aenar sleeps secured in one of the back seats.
So on this one day and for one occasion only, Elinda had an important commitment that she couldn't postpone, so she didn't show up for work and you didn't have any problem, since you can bring Aenar to the nursery on the set.
And now it is Aemond who is driving them home after your shift ended almost at the same time he finished filming his scenes.
He and you haven't talked much during the whole drive, only about work, but even so the silence is comfortable and you can't wait to get home to cook a nice dinner.
The cityscape soon transforms into familiar and somewhat… careless streets, as you approach to your apartment.
He parks in front of your building and watches you.
You know this isn't a luxurious area and there's a lot of detail to look at, but it's what you can afford right now.
And that's just what Aemond thinks as he looks around the neighborhood, hating to leave you and Aenar here when he can get you a much better place. But he knows you'll say no.
"Will you stay here any longer?" he asks you softly, "I mean, will you continue to pay rent?"
"For now yes," you nod to him, "I'm saving up to move to a better place, to an apartment in a different area and that's close to work," you let him know, "It's just taking time because of my paycheck."
Aemond stares at you intently for a moment, thinking and pondering your words, with a thoughtful look on his face, while you make sure you have all your belongings with you before getting out of the car and carrying Aenar.
And just as he is about to speak, a familiar sound interrupts him and his son's crying is heard throughout the car.
You follow him too with all your things in hand, walking over to both of them.
You quickly turn to him to attend to him, trying to calm him down, while Aemond reacts and quickly gets out of the car to open the door to the back seats.
It takes him a little while to unfasten the seat belts, but once he's finished he takes him in his arms and whispers comforting words in his ear to make him stop crying.
"Shh, my little one," Aemond whispers, holding him against his chest and stroking his silver hair, "Hey, it's okay, it's okay," he murmurs, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead.
You move to his side and run one of your hands over his wet cheeks, watching you for a moment with teary blue eyes only to close them tightly and continue crying.
"Either he wants to sleep in his room or he's hungry," you say, stroking his face to try to calm him as well.
"He didn't eat?" he asks you attentively.
"Yes, Mary said yes."
"Then he wants to sleep," he says, trying to wipe the dried tears from his cheeks, "Come on upstairs, I'll take him," he tells you and you nod.
All the while Aemond tries to comfort him until they reach the door of your apartment, but when he lays him down in his crib, Aenar cries more and he carefully holds him in his arms again, trying to soothe him while you quickly stop in the kitchen and prepare a baby bottle, hoping it will help.
And when you hand it to Aemond, he stands gently pacing around the room holding Aenar with one arm while the other hand holds the baby ottle for him against his mouth, hoping it will soothe him and he will fall asleep.
You take the bottle and Aemond carefully lays him down to sleep in his crib, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead to finally let him rest.
Aenar eventually calms down as he drinks from the baby bottle and watches with his blue eyes Aemond above him, who is still gently walking him around the room.
And little by little, wrapped in the safety of Aemond's arms, he falls asleep.
He sits up and turns to you, where you both look at each other without saying anything for a moment, sharing a silent connection.
"Thank you," you whisper to him.
"Don't worry," he says back to you in the same way.
Together you leave Aenar's room without a sound and gently close the door.
That night Aemond drives to his apartment with a new thought in mind, one of which is to always provide a better life for you and Aenar.
That's why, without telling you anything and taking advantage of the fact that it's your day off, he manages to leave the recording set early, he tells you to accompany him to the mall to buy new clothes for Aenar and you accept without thinking about anything else.
During the ride, so far you haven't questioned him about anything and that relieves him, but when you finally pay attention to the streets he is driving through, that's when your confusion appears and Aemond is thankful that you are about to arrive at the real place he wants to take you.
"I don't think there's a shopping mall around here, Aemond," you tell him confused, watching the streets carefully.
You realize that he is actually driving through a private residential neighborhood, with the streets lined with luxurious homes or rather mansions that would catch anyone's attention and you are clearly no exception.
And remembering your locations, you can tell that this neighborhood belongs to the Visenya Hill area, the most exclusive and prestigious area of King's Landing.
"Aemond, where are we going?" you look at him completely confused and questioning.
"I want to show you something," he tells you without giving you any more detail, generating more confusion and despair in you.
"But you said we were going to the mall."
"I know, but I lied to you," he says with some regret and you frown, "If I told you I wanted to show you a house where you can live with Aenar, you wouldn't have come."
"What?"
You inquire in your completely incredulous, serious and questioning voice, watching him with your eyes wide open.
"Surely you're joking," you tell him absurdly, shaking in his direction and watching him completely intently and seriously, really wanting to believe this is a joke.
"No, I'm not," he says letting out a small laugh, watching you for a moment to turn his gaze back to the road.
"Aemond," you start trying to warn him, serious.
"We're here," he announces out of nowhere, alerting you more fully.
You watch with your lips parted and completely attentive at all the windows, as the car comes to a stop in front of an impressive house, whose high ceilings and elegant white columns stand out in the neighborhood.
The front garden with the green lawn, a beautiful fountain and flowering bushes only make it stand out more, besides the elegant entrance, its huge windows and the dimension of the whole house that makes you continue to stare at everything with your mouth open.
In comparison, Aemond looks at the house with a hopeful expression and feeling genuinely happy and excited. But at the same time, he is worried about your attitude and what you will tell him about all this.
At first you refuse to get out of the car, still incredulous and surprised, telling him this is crazy, but Aemond makes you get out and also gets Aenar down from the back seats, instantly on this rare occasion preferring your arms instead of his father's.
"Aemond," you try to say, worried and still unable to believe it.
"Easy. Come," he tells you completely unconcerned, leading you to the entrance of the house.
You observe everything, unable to help yourself, as there is even furniture and everything looks too expensive but too beautiful at the same time.
You watch as he holds the fucking key in his hand and opens the beautiful, gigantic door for you, without giving you a chance to say anything else.
And as you enter, the entire interior of the house spreads out in front of you, illuminated by the daylight filtering through the windows and highlighting every majestic detail of the property.
The simple entrance is large with a crystal chandelier above you hanging from the high ceiling, the living room is spacious and there is also a small decorative fountain. Further on there is another living room that you can observe from the spacious and eye-catching kitchen.
And the entire upstairs also completely grabs your attention, having three huge bedrooms, the master bedroom being the largest of them all, each with its own bathroom and closet.
The bathroom down here is ridiculously large for a bathroom. The pantry is also a ridiculously large room for a pantry.
The garden is lovely and has a swimming pool which, according to Aemond, can be automatically closed off for Aenar's security. There is a laundry and drying room as well.
"It's perfect, don't you think?"
Aemond tells you slightly excited as you walk down the stairs behind him, with Aenar in your arms and who also looks at everything around him with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Work is nearby, my apartment is nearby and Elinda has come to this area to work before, so it won't be a problem," he tells you with that little smile, turning to you, looking with that gleam of hope compared to you.
He clearly expects the same reaction from you and even having already seen the house, you let out a sigh and look at him with a serious and confused expression.
"Aemond, what do you think you're doing?"
"Well, it's for you," he tells you, pointing to everything around him, still not seeing how much this is costing you, "It's perfect for you and Aenar. And a chance for him to live and grow up in a nice, spacious, safe place."
You are speechless for a moment, feeling that heaviness in your chest and your heart pounding as you press your lips together and briefly observe everything around you again.
"Everything will be taken care of by me, you won't have to worry about anything," he assures you softly, "Aenar's room is big, the kitchen is big, there are two living rooms and..." he shrugs, "Like I told you, everything is close by."
"Tell me you haven't already bought all this," you say slightly concerned.
And then all emotion from Aemond slowly fades.
"But why? What is it that—
"Aemond, this is too much," you interrupt him incredulously, shock in your eyes, "How do you think I'm just going to accept this just like that?"
He steps closer, with the slight concern in his gaze, trying to convey calm, but his eye reflects the urgency of his purpose.
"Y/N, please. I only want what's best for you and Aenar. Besides, you said you're moving soon and—
"Yes but to an apartment, not a house that costs millions of dollars," you tell him absurdly.
"Yes, I know, but—" he bites his lips, nervous, "I wanted to do this. I wanted to give this to you and Aenar," he says insistent, "A safe place in a quiet neighborhood, where you can also have your space without having to worry anymore."
You shake your head.
"But—
"Look, just..." he tries to find the right words, trying to work on your willing attitude for not accepting this, "Consider it, yes?" he insist, "You don't have to make a decision right now, for now I just wanted to show you around, nothing more," he says calmly, though you know that behind that calmness is an obvious longing.
"But it's just that this is too much and... no," you look at him with slight concern, "I don't need to consider it because no matter how much I think about it, my answer is no."
"Aemond, this..." you begin to say with restrained sadness, hesitating, "This won't change the past. This won't make it so I can forgive you," you tell him resignedly, "This isn't about me and Aenar, it's about Aenar nothing else and her well being," you tell him in a broken voice, "But this... this house... it's too much."
"Y/N..." he says, taking a couple more steps towards you, wary, "Two years ago, I was the worst shitty boyfriend," he says with sadness and regret, "I had to support you, be there for you completely, I shouldn't have let Criston talk me into his plans, accept in the beginning to hide you and hide my responsibility."
He says as he looks nostalgic at Aenar in your arms.
"And now that you've given me this second chance, I just want to make things right....I want to do what I should have done in the beginning."
Aemond's expression, although he himself tries to remain expressionless, still feels as if he has been hit hard in the stomach when he hears your words.
And all illusion disappears, as well as his enthusiasm.
He resignedly steps back, leaving a space between you and him, not wanting to overwhelm you any more than he already has.
He thought this would be a good idea, that by the time the three of you were here, looking forward to the idea of a new home, you would understand and accept.
But there are still many open wounds from the past and he knows they cannot be healed with these sudden gestures.
"I know, it's just that I-I..." he tries to say with his voice laden with regret and deep remorse," I didn't expect this... a house or an apology to just fix things," he says sincerely and with disappointment, "I just wanted to give Aenar stability and offer you a safe place for the both of you, give you a better life."
Silence envelops you both, dense and charged with mixed emotions.
Aemond tries to find some sign on your face, wanting you to see his true intention, longing for some small indication of hope or acceptance.
And you feel the overwhelming weight of responsibility and emotions inside you. All of this is tempting, though your heart is still scarred by past pain and also distrust. And you are torn between caution and the opportunity to give Aenar the stability he deserves.
Aemond remains silent, respecting your space and your time to process the situation. But the indecision in you is all too obvious.
"Y/N, I promise you that all this is for Aenar and nothing else," he tells you seriously and sincerely, "I promise I won't try anything, except to take care of him and make sure he lacks nothing," he insists, "At least stay in this house until he grows up a little more and if you still think it's too much, we can find a smaller place," he proposes.
His words are left floating in the air, while you continue to think too hard. His proposal echoing in your mind, plunging you into a sea of thoughts, with indecision.
Aemond seems to have put his heart on the table, but your emotions continue to struggle between caution and hope, as you cannot ignore the possibility of offering Aenar a more secure and stable life, which is all you wish for him since you could not give him that at the beginning.
And it is also what Aemond desires, that is why he is so insistent and you see his true intention to give this to Aenar, without any other intentions in between.
But is it right to trust him again? What if Criston and his team try to intervene again? This time they would do it more easily.
Maybe it can be different this time.
You honestly feel like you're taking a big risk by agreeing. It's a big bet to open your life and Aenar's to this new opportunity, but you also see how he's striving to give you something better.
And that's exactly what has you questioning and wondering: should I give this a chance?
"All right," you finally say in a soft voice with a mixture of nervousness, "But only for Aenar."
Aemond looks at you with surprise and hope.
"Really?"
You nod, swallowing hard and Aemond lets out a long breath, visibly relieved and then, avoiding smiling big, takes the house key from his front pocket and holds it out to you, to which you take it a little confused.
"Don't you have to give it to the real estate agent?"
"Actually, I already bought it," he says with a nervous but innocent gesture at the same time, scratching the back of his neck, "Well, I haven't paid the whole amount, but I've paid most of it. So it's yours."
Seven fucking Hells.
You can't help but think as you close your eyes for a moment and let out a sigh, unable to believe it.
The new house soon began to have that warmth the moment you started settling in with Aenar. Every room radiates a sense of peace and comfort that you haven't experienced in a long time.
The move wasn't difficult at all, the only thing you had to transport from the old apartment with the help of Aemond and his driver was your clothes, Aenar's clothes, her toys and her crib, nothing else.
The house already had furniture, beds, decorations and even televisions already installed.
The high ceilings allow natural light to flood in, while the white walls set off the black and gray furniture and Aenar toys, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere.
Aemond builds Lego block forts together with him, buys him toy dragons, cars, stuffed animals and they both watch Aenar's favorite cartoon or movies, getting cozy on the shag carpet or on the couch.
Because Aemond's apartment is close by, his commitment is more accessible, so there is never a day that goes by that he doesn't visit Aenar.
Special moments between father and son are spent in the living room, where toys scattered on the floor become Aenar's playroom area.
Also some evenings the three of you have dinner together, where Aemond offers to feed Aenar and eventually the dining room fills with laughter and smiles as you focus on him.
The backyard also becomes a realm of adventure, where they both even plan picnics and invite you over.
They also both sometimes spend afternoons exploring with laughter and playing with the plastic cars on the lawn where Aenar imitates the sounds Aemond makes from a car.
The new house is filled with happy and warm moments, forming the perfect setting for Aenar to begin to grow up, having both of his parents looking after him.
The proximity of work and Aemond's apartment made the daily routine easier. The routes are short and convenient, allowing more time to enjoy time together.
And above all you definitely feel more at ease having Elinda taking care of Aenar while you are considerably closer to home from the set.
When one day at night, you had already received a message from Aemond telling you that he would be a little late to visit Aenar, as usual, and you replied that it was fine, even though tomorrow is your day off and you have no problem with sleeping late.
But the clock is almost half past eleven at night and you think he is not going to arrive, when just at that moment you hear the doorbell ring and you go to the door, checking from the IPad the cameras of a program that Aemond installed to record Aenar while he sleeps and also monitors in case of anything and so you can make sure he is okay.
And finally you open the door, watching Aemond carefully.
"I thought you weren't coming anymore," you tell him in a low, warm tone, but also worried.
Aemond nods, letting out a sigh.
"I finished later than I thought. It was a hard day," he tells you heavily.
You nod softly and understandingly, stepping aside to let him pass.
"Aenar is already asleep."
"Yes, that's what i thought," he says calmly, "But it doesn't matter, I won't wake him up, I just want to see him," he watches you with tired eye, "You should go to sleep too," he says as he places one of his hands gently on your shoulder, "I'll lock up and set the alarm when I leave."
Hesitation shows on your face for a moment, watching him intently and with a flash of concern.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, don't worry," he nods at you with a small soft smile, "Go get some rest, I'll take care of it."
"Fine, but anything tell me, no matter what it is, okay?"
"Okay."
With a soft nod, you both head up the stairs and down the hallway to the rooms, you wave goodbye to him before entering your room and he enters Aenar's room.
And once in your room, you cover yourself with your sheets and thinking that you would fall asleep the moment you were in the comfort of your bed, you suddenly stare at the ceiling for a long time unable to close your eyes and clearly unable to sleep.
He hasn't left yet, as you haven't heard that soft 'click' of the door or his footsteps in the hallway walking away.
You try to find sleep any way you can, but the thought that Aemond is still in the house is what keeps you awake.
And it's not because you don't trust him, on the contrary, you look at the time and feel remorseful and worried that he has to drive back to his apartment so late.
Minutes pass and suddenly you find yourself restless, sleep refusing to invade you. So with quiet steps, you approach Aenar's room, where the dim light of a night lamp reflects through the frame below the door.
Carefully and determined, you gently open the door, first peeking your head and then your body, catching the attention of Aemond who turns his head towards you, sitting near Aenar's crib and gently and very lightly stroking his hair so as not to wake him with a look of affection that does not leave his face despite the interruption.
"Can't you sleep?" he whispers to you, watching you with a soft gaze.
You nod softly, folding your arms as you look down at sleeping Aenar with palpable tenderness.
"It's late and I thought maybe... if you want, you can sleep here," you say with a warm tone but your hint of shyness in your voice is noticeable, as well as your hesitation to suggest such a thing.
It's no problem for you, it's just that he's never slept over before and you don't know what his reaction will really be to you proposing that, whether he'll say yes or no.
"And you're okay with that?" he observes you thoughtfully and softly.
"Yes, of course I am," you assure him completely nonchalantly, "It's totally fine with me."
He nods at you with a gesture, without wiping away his soft little smile.
"Thank you."
And then both his gaze and yours return to watching Aenar asleep in his crib. And Aemond resumes the smile of tenderness on his lips, again sliding his hand over his hair.
"He's beautiful, isn't he?" he whispers with a flash of pride in his gaze.
You hum in assent, slowly moving closer toward them both.
"Yes, he is," you reply, gazing at your little one with indescribable love.
A brief silence envelops you for a moment, only hearing the soft hum of the spinning lamp projecting images on the ceiling, creating a peaceful low-light scene of animals and stars for Aenar.
This usually helps him sleep and also calms him down a bit if he wakes up crying in the middle of the night while you wake up and rush over here.
"For a while I imagined how he would looked like, whether boy or girl..." he murmurs in a soft, warm, low, wistful tone, "No matter what you decided to do when you left, I always thought about it," he gives you a meaningful look, guilt on his features and you nod, watching him with understanding.
Aemond clenches his jaw and looks at Aenar again, while you remember those days, where fear and uncertainty lived inside you every day.
You wish you had them, those happy moments that a new mom should experience, but that was not the case for you and yet... you cannot imagine a life without your little boy, it is impossible.
What is supposed to be happy news, was not happy for you and Aemond.
There was no single moment of joy at the beginning, when you learned of your pregnancy. Nor did you experience that feeling the first few months, when you ran away and went back to building a new life.
And Aemond feels the remorse most in these kinds of moments, when Aenar is asleep and he looks at him, not being able to believe and wondering over and over again how it is that from the beginning, he supported the idea of just getting rid of him.
And now he sees only him and cannot imagine a world without him.
Shame overcomes him, guilt also and he even wants to cry with anger as he thinks of all that you must have gone through, without his support, trying to make a living for you and his son, all alone in a new and unknown place.
And he knows that this, allowing you to be in Aenar's life, is a great opportunity that he doesn't deserve and yet you have given it to him.
"I know you said you can't forgive me but... someday can you? For how I reacted and for the decision I supported in the beginning?" he asks you, unable to help himself and needing to know.
His tone is charged with a mixture of regret and longing as you feel a pressure and a slight sharp pain in your chest at his words.
Silence stretches for a moment throughout the room, Aemond respects your silence and though there are many reasons why you should never forgive him for what happened, you still decide to be honest.
"I don't know," you whisper in a low, sad and vulnerable tone.
The words echo through the room, enveloping the space with palpable tension.
Aemond feels his heart pounding, filled with overwhelming regret. He lowers his gaze, unable to bear the weight of his mistakes and your words are like a dagger in his heart, but still, he understands you completely.
He nods with compression, letting out a regret-laden sigh, still gently stroking Aenar's hair.
"I understand," he murmurs with a tone of melancholy and fragility, as well as in his gaze full of pleading and remorse.
"Does your family know about him?"
And you with your sad eyes full of regret, you watch him out of the corner of your eye.
And you see all those emotions in him, all his thoughts reflected in his gaze, trying to stand firm and on the sidelines as he continues to watch Aenar.
You can't help but ask, trying to calm the atmosphere a little, though it's useless, as that slight tension is felt and also that physical and emotional distance from both your side and him.
"I've wanted to tell them, only Nyra knows but I asked her not to say anything," he confesses to you in a low voice, trying to speak firmly but the nostalgia is clear, "Even though I know my mother and siblings will be disappointed in me when I explained what happened two years ago, yes I have wanted to tell them," he nods, "But first I wanted to discuss it with you," he says looking briefly at you over his shoulder.
And now it is remorse that comes to you.
"Tell them, Aemond," you tell him firmly with a soft tone, "They deserve to know."
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general taglist:
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@hypocritic-trash-baby
573 notes · View notes
yudonomi · 2 years
Note
aph america for chara bingo
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Tbh I've actually never thought of Al that much before except as beloved himbo but he's on the fringe of my Pinoy OCs development process and I like takes where he is a bit more callous and the inability to read the room is intentional and calculated BUT then you showed me Hetamyu which basically threw a sledgehammer at 80% my Alfred thoughts hence 'genuinely. what the fuck'
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d-targaryenshoe · 3 months
Text
Muddy Games - Anthony Bridgerton
Word Count: 1728
Summary: Anthony Bridgerton and a game of Pall Mall, without winning it's never good enough it is.
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As the sunlight met your skin, you felt the heat radiate from the So huge window shining into your bedroom, or perhaps it may been the warmth that radiated from your husband's body who still sounded pretty much asleep next to you. 
Staring at the ceiling, a smile appeared on your face. It may have been happiness even though adoration was also still a valuable option.
You pulled the covers from your body as you carefully took hold of Anthony's hand, trying to pull yourself from under his grip meanwhile, but the Lord was smarter than you knew.
"Dearest, it's almost half of the day, we must go downstairs to the family." You chuckled, feeling Anthony's arm tighten around your waist before he pulled you closer once more. "Anthony, we've arrived last night, we didn't even see them."
"We still have enough time to conversate with them, they'd understand me if I desired to lock myself in here with my newly wedded wife." He answered, placing his lips on your neck.
"They would, hm?" Running a hand through his brown hair, you smiled while raising an eyebrow at the man. "We really should sr-tart of this da-"
"Anthony? Y/n?" A young female's voice was sounded on the other side of your door after a knock was heard. "YOU MUST MAKE HASTE." 
Anthony sighed to himself, rubbing his forehead before getting up out of bed and opening the door for a small crack. hiding his uncovered body behind the door, meeting Eloise's eyes. "Sister? Nice to see you on this delightful morning, is it not?"
"No, it is not." She answered.
"The sun is shining to its greatest?"
"Sun? Ah, very hot, too hot." She fanned herself with her hand.
Eloise grinned sarcastically at her brother, giving him a toothy smile, trying to peek into the room but no one could do as Anthony positioned his hand on the doorframe. "Do you need assistance with anything, El?
"No, just hastening the two of you up with whatever you're accomplishing, everyone's downstairs, we're almost beginning a Pall Mall game." Eloise shrugged, before loudly speaking up. "DAPHNE WOULD LOVE TO SEE Y/N AGAIN AFTER SUCH A LONG TRAVEL." 
Anthony squinted at the younger girl, shaking his head before she waved him off and walked away, knowing how much of a strong connection you had with the other Bridgerton sister.
Anthony closed the door, walked back into the room, and started to relay Eloise's message, but you interrupted him with a chuckle. "I heard everything, dearest. Let's not keep your family waiting." 
You leaned in and gave him a quick kiss before getting out of bed to get dressed. Anthony smiled at you, grateful for your understanding nature, and started to get ready as well. 
"Thank you for the concern, but I'm ready to face them. We'll handle it together." You replied with a smile as you walked down the staircase, holding hands. 
As you stepped outside, the first thing you saw was the family waiting on the grass field. They were all smiling and waving, and you could feel the love and warmth radiating from them. 
Despite the overwhelming feeling of being surrounded by so many people, you knew that you were very much ready to be a part of this family.
Eloise was standing next to Violet, who immediately embraced you and welcomed you to the family. 
"Oh, brother, I must say, you and the clothes on your body are a much more pleasant sight." Eloise smiled, but the smile quickly faded as she saw the look Colin gave her.
"Eloise, that's enough. Let's not embarrass the newlyweds," Violet said, giving her daughter a stern look. 
"I'll think of a number and the person to guess it, picks first?" Colin suggested.
"What? I do not accept. The oldest should pick first, Colin." Benedict snapped.
"The oldest? The youngest, much rather!" Eloise
"I just got married, I should be choosing." Anthony urged.
"Why am I afraid that this is how every Pall Mall game goes?" You asked Daphne as she chuckled. "Because it is, is it not?"
Daphne catches your eye and nods her head. "Very much so, excuse me for a moment."
"All of you, almost starting a contest on who shall pick first, when the only person who has not said one thing, is your wife, Anthony, maybe she is the one to pick first?" Daphne gave her brother a stern look, hearing Eloise laughing quietly.
As Anthony clears his throat, he agrees with Daphne's suggestion that you should be the one to pick first. "Yes, that's a great idea. Dearest, why don't you pick first?" he says, giving you a warm smile. 
You nod, picking the black mallet, and noticing Anthony's expression of shock. You can't help but laugh as Benedict teases his brother about the mallet of death. 
"So it is yours?" You ask, holding out the mallet towards him to take, but he shakes his head, kissing your temple.
"No, not at all, it's yours now." Anthony smiles.
"Is it? Because the last time I tried to do so, you almost beate-" Colin his words were stopped by the look his brother gave him. "What?"
"You exaggerate, dear brother." Anthony placed his chin on your shoulder, standing behind you and wrapping one arm around your waist. 
"I've had enough, shall I watch those two all day, or may I start this game?" Eloise sighed, swinging the mallet in her hand towards you and Anthony. "I much would like to do the second thought."
" I think we should indeed begin with the Pall Mall game, y/n, love, why don't you start? violet kindly smiled, placing her hand on yours before returning to her seat.
With a determined look on your face, you swung your mallet and successfully struck the round bowl through the high arch of iron.
"Well, well, well! It seems your mighty mallet has finally proven its worth." You teased your husband, making him place his lips on your neck, making you lean into him. 
" It was just a stroke of luck." He muttered against your neck, before releasing you and walking towards the spot to give it his best try. "Dear family, watch closely, Benedict, you indeed. I'm about to show you how it's done."
Anthony steps up to take his shot, his eyes focused on the target. He swings his mallet with confidence, but to his dismay, he misses the ball completely. His expression turns from determination to frustration.
"Well, well, Anthony. I must say, that was quite the swing!" Benedict laughed, throwing his arm around his brother's shoulder.
Anthony's face turns red with embarrassment as his siblings join in on the laughter.
"Oh Anthony, perhaps you need a bit more practice before challenging Benedict." Daphne tried to hide her smile behind her gloved hand. 
"I think I'll keep score. One point deducted for every missed shot, Anthony." Eloise adjusted the bow in her hair, smiling at the Bridgerton brother.
Anthony tries to maintain his composure, but the teasing continues to rattle him. "Enough! I'll show you all in the next round."
"Alright, here goes nothing!" Daphne sighs, taking Anthony's spot of position. Daphne takes a deep breath and focuses on the ball. With a swift motion, she strikes it with precision.
The ball hits the target dead center, causing a loud "clang" sound. 
"I did it! I did it!" She cheered, embracing you and Eloise with joy. 
"Okay, Daphne, we've heard, now it's my turn." Colin tries his best to concentrate. "Alright, here goes nothing!"
"Colin, that position? You really must work on your aim." Anthony spoke, having Eloise chuckle. "Don't chuckle, you too."
"Just you wait, Anthony. I'll get better with practice." Colin answered, striking the ball and scoring another point. 
"Everybody move, I get to try now." Benedict swings his mallet and hits the ball with a strong force, but unfortunately, it veers off course. "Damn it!"
"What happened, Benedict?" Anthony raised an eyebrow, leaning his hands on his mallet.
"It's your fault, Anthony! You distracted me!" Benedict pointed a finger at his brother. 
 "Me? How on earth did I distract you?" Anthony rolled his eyes. "It's not my fault you missed your shot."
"Okay, okay, my turn, go away," Eloise said, She hit the ball, but it flew through the air and landed in the mud. "Oh no! The ball went flying, there goes my shot!
Anthony let his eyes run over the field and remembers which direction it went. "Y/n, dearest, the ball went in that direction, care to join?"
"Of course, we must retrieve it." You smile, taking hold of your husband's hand and following him in the direction, trying not to ruin your gown.
" Look for anything round and shiny. It could be partially buried." Anthony said, doing his best not to slip away in the mud. 
Letting your eyes scan the ground they stopped at a particular point. "I see something over there! It's partially hidden under the mud."
The both of you carefully unearth the ball, covered in mud, but otherwise intact. "Thank goodness! Our family's legacy is safe."
the both of you find yourselves alone in the middle of the muddy mess. Your clothes are drenched and covered in dirt. The rain pours down, adding to the chaos.
"Well, my love, it seems we've found ourselves in quite a predicament, the desire that burns within me is too strong." Anthony softly spoke, removing the sleeve from your shoulder
"Oh, stop it, Anthony. You're just as disheveled as I am." You chuckled, as Anthony pulled your body closer to his. 
"But that's what makes this moment so perfect. No expectations, no inhibitions, just us, here in the mud." Anthony smiled at you, tightening his grip around you. 
 "Are you suggesting we make the most of this muddy situation?" You asked, removing the strand of hair that fell on his forehead.
"Absolutely, dearest, let's embrace the messiness and create a memory that will last a lifetime." You share a passionate kiss, your bodies intertwining as they revel in the spontaneity of the moment. 
The rain continues to pour, washing away your worries and leaving only their love behind. The mud still clings to your clothes, but you pay no mind.
 In this moment, nothing else matters except their love for each other.
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yuquinzel · 1 year
Text
[ 8:37 pm ] — miya atsumu.
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the clock reads 8:37 pm, exactly 14 seconds to 38 and atsumu is painfully aware of each long, dragging and excruciatingly endless second because it's been exactly 4 hours, 19 minutes and 12 seconds since you left on him read.
he's currently laid on his bed, in his dimly lit room where the only source of illumination is the faint fluorescent glow of his mobile screen.
he's frowning, brows furrowed at the dull ‘seen 4hrs ago’ in anticipation because at any second now he'll see the ‘typing...’ indication and he doesn't wanna be late to reply.
atsumu is a fast and an energetic texter. he sends you at least 14 cat videos with the “ur the third one” message immediately after each. or he sends you those ‘ask your friend which hour of the day you are’ followed by a “you. blue hour” hopefully awaiting your reply because he needs to know if you think he's the golden hour or not.
y/n 🛐: you're definitely the golden hour then lol
the better twin: damn. didn't expect that.
he actually did. hoped for it in fact. he thinks about it for the next week.
you're not the type to leave people on seen for more than 5 minutes. at least not him. you reply as quick as you can with the same energy as him and have a habit of liking his rather funny texts from time to time.
so he's more confused than upset right now, thinking of all possible reasons you could've read his messages but were unable to reply. he hasn't seen you since last friday when you told him about a week long road trip with your family. his frown only deepens when the clock hits 8:40 and there's no sign of a reply from you.
he's beginning to type a quick “are u good?” when his screen flashes with a call. your contact name. the phone rings in atsumu's hand but his fingers are frozen.
you're calling him.
you don't like phone calls.
atsumu clears his throat because he doesn't want you to hear him squeal with excitement, but he's giggling and kicking his feet, running a hand over his heart and rubbing his eyes to make sure it really is you. he lets the phone ring for a mere seconds before picking it up, “oh hey” he hopes it's as casual as he thinks.
the moment he hears you speak from the other side, atsumu knows he has lost, “ATSUMU! I'm so sorry for leaving you on read. i was in the car and battery fucking died before i could reply and i lost my charger!” you're chasing after your own words, each cut by the next one.
“oh, nah that's fine. so ya found yer charger?” he groans internally at his words, but truthfully he doesn't know what to say.
of course you didn't willingly leave him on read. of course you're calling him now because you don't want him to think otherwise. of course your words are rushed, you've always been that way.
“oh, right yeah. i got home and charged it as soon as I could” you laugh with a newfound sense of relief.
atsumu blinks, “yer home already? weren'tcha coming this sunday??” he asks.
“ohh, no, we decided to come back earlier”
and the voice call ends, leaving you confused.
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it's 9:29 pm and there's a knocking at your door, hastened and impatient, the way you know someone always knocks.
“’tsumu? wait, why are you here at this hour?” you ask, wide eyes set on the setter in front of you panting like he ran a marathon.
“ya said you were back and ya must be tired so i gotcha ice cream—” he breathes out, gesturing to the bag in his hand, “—gee, coulda told me you were comin’ back today, when'd ya get here anyway? how was the trip? did ya take pictures?—”
“atsumu” you say softly, and he pauses, “breathe ”
atsumu lives about 45 minutes away, 15 if he takes the car but as he's panting right now, you know he's ran all the way here. and if he stopped by the convenience store down the street and still get here in time, you're sure he needs at least a minute to breathe.
he smiles one of his boyish, princely smiles, “also got that movie ya wanted ta watch”
“i thought you'd have watched it already?”
“wanted ta watch it with you” he's giggling with excitement you know he's trying to hide.
“okay” you laugh, grabbing his hand to pull him inside.
“okay” he repeats.
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© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]
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zablife · 2 months
Text
Now You Know the Truth (Part 4)
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Summary: As you begin an uncertain period of recovery, Tommy is left to decide what's best for you.
Author's Note: This is an accidental series 🙈! For some reason I can't stop thinking about this couple. Ty to all my lovely readers who have kept me inspired by leaving such wonderful comments!
Warnings: child loss, manipulative behavior
Part 3
“Who am I?” Tommy repeated your question back to you in a hoarse whisper, his throat going dry as he realized you didn't recognize him. "I'm your husband, Thomas Shelby," he issued forth with authority, feeling a chasm open within his chest at the thought of you belonging to anyone but him. His hurt manifested in a sudden flicker of rage behind his eyes, causing you to jerk your hand away. The speed of your reaction surprised you, but not so much as the instinctual sense of fear coursing through you.
Pulling the blankets up to your chin protectively you muttered, "I'm sorry, I-I'm trying, but I can't seem to recall."
You sounded so weak and helpless before him, Tommy softened instantly at your apologetic tone. All the tension he held in his shoulders fell away as he offered a word of encouragement. "That's alright," he said gently. "Take all the time you need."
"Thank you," you sniffed appreciatively, feeling the throbbing ache return to your temples. No matter how you tried, you couldn't place him. While he had a handsome face, you knew you'd never seen him before in your life and that shook you to your core. The deep emotion behind his words made the situation worse, knowing he expected you to speak with equal passion. The whole ordeal was rather taxing in its complexity and you felt yourself becoming tired yet again.
"I think I need to rest," you informed him as you felt your eyelids grow heavy with sleep.
"Of course," Tommy replied. "If you need me, I'll be right outside."
---------------------
"What are sayin'? She don't remember nothin'?" Arthur asked, leaning in to study Tommy's perplexed expression.
"No," Tommy said simply as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Maybe it's for the best," Arthur offered quietly.
Tommy snapped his head sharply as he demanded, "What the fuck did you say?"
Arthur ducked his head submissively as he mumbled, "Sorry, Tom, I meant the accident. She shouldn't have to think about it."
"No," Tommy murmured as he stood deep in thought. Then his face slowly began to lift as he considered his brother's words. "You're right. Perhaps it is better this way."
"How do you mean?" Arthur prodded, suspicious of Tommy's sudden change in demeanor.
With a glimmer in his eye, Tommy proclaimed, "I couldn't make her understand before, but now I have another chance. It's a whole new beginning."
-------------------------------
You opened your eyes with a start as the gravel crunched beneath the tires, signaling your arrival at Arrow House. "We're here, darling," Tommy announced triumphantly. Hastening to open your door, he helped you to stand with the utmost care.
Despite the dreary weather, you squinted against the daylight, unaccustomed to being outside for any length of time. Leaning into Tommy's strong arms, you whimpered at the pain at the base of your badly bruised spine.
"I'll have Frances bring the morphine as soon as you're in bed," Tommy promised in a soothing voice. You smiled up at him, wondering how someone could love you so completely. Though you still couldn't recall a single memory of your life together, you'd come to trust his recollections as replacement. He'd dedicated the better part of a month sharing photographs and stories at your bedside to ensure you knew every detail of your charmed life.
In that time, you also spoke of your future, with Tommy frequently expressing his desire for a son. The tenderness in his voice convinced you to lean into the first kiss you'd shared since your accident, a languid embrace which set you ablaze with need.
However, renewed anxiety and emotion swirled in your gut as he informed you of news from the doctor. Nuzzling his nose against yours Tommy promised, "We can try again soon. With any luck, you'll be pregnant again before Christmas." He lovingly rubbed a thumb along the base of your neck and you only hoped he couldn't feel the way your pulse thumped in terrified response.
"It's going to be everything we ever dreamed of," Tommy mused, oblivious to your panic.
Part 5
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aerahyasashi · 22 days
Note
Hi queen aerah! I'm a follower from quotev and i really love your works especially divine punishment 🩷🫶🏻 i was hoping to request something, if you accept ofcourse, if you do then could you please do a yandere suguru one?🥰
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𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐀 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓?
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“𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆.”
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╰┈➤𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: Nanako and Mimiko asks you the reason as to why you’re wearing a blindfold, and what they found out chilled them to the bone, as they realized the truth about your blindness.
╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere stuff, Medical description of stuff, Manipulation, Drugging, Forced Blindness (Lmao)
╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Suguru Geto x Oblivious! Blind! Reader
╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: I do not support or approve of any of the behaviors and actions depicted in this story. The content is intended solely for entertainment purposes. Hearts and reblogs are greatly appreciated<3. Kinda mid ig? Not rlly satisfied abt this. I'll do the other reqs next once i get the motivation to write<3
Masterlist
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You softly hummed a tune while sitting on the plush mattress, feeling Nanako gently brush your hair.   Mimiko was lounging on your lap as she stared at the ceiling.
“Your hair is so soft mama.. like silk”
Nanako said, admiration tinging in her voice at the softness of your hair, showering you with compliments as she held the right section in her hand and the left in her left hand, leaving the middle section loose. 
Despite having no vision, you could feel her lips curling into a smile and it made a small smile to appear on your lip.
“Thank you, Nanako.” You said softly.
The bond between you, Nanako, and Mimiko had grown strong over time, as they were practically adopted by Suguru, your husband, and raised as his own.  Despite Nanako and Mimiko’s bratty tendencies, they showed genuine kindness and affection towards you.
Nanako, in particular, often displayed a more bratty attitude, while Mimiko seemed content to follow her lead like her loyal minion. It was reminiscent of the classic dynamic between a popular girl and her devoted sidekick.
However, despite that, you loved them too, and treats them as your own daughters.
“Mama, can I ask you something?”
Nanako’s sudden inquiry cut through the air, her eyes searching for affirmation as she sucked in a deep breath and stole a fleeting glance at Mimiko. Without breaking eye contact with you, she searched your expression for any signs of discomfort, to know if you are comfortable with her asking you questions.
“Hm? Ofcourse,” You replied.
Curiosity danced in your mind as you could feel Nanako’s hesitant demeanor. Even without sight, the slight hastening of her heartbeat was a sign of her nerves. Sensory perception was your gift, something that helped you a lot, because you don’t really have a vision.
“Well...” Nanako trailed off, unsure of how to start.
“Don’t hesitate to ask, okay?”
You gently reached out, your fingers seeking hers, your lips parted when you felt the texture beneath your touch felt different—It wasn’t Nanako's hand you held, but Mimiko’s.
“...wait, your hands feels different.. wait no, these are mimiko’s”
The sudden awareness painted your cheeks with a blush of embarrassment, a mix of confusion and awkwardness mingling in your expression.
As the realization dawned on you, Nanako's suppressed laughter bubbled forth, a ghost of a smile gracing Mimiko's features. A reassuring squeeze of your hand conveyed understanding and acceptance. “It's okay,” Mimiko's silent gesture seemed to say.
Apologizing sheepishly for your mistake, you couldn't deny the lingering embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, hoping to dissipate the awkwardness that hung between you.
“Didn’t see that, sorry girls.” You chuckled.
“Mama, stop with the blind jokes.” Nanako deadpanned, watching you rub the taut muscles on the back of your neck awkwardly.
“Right..”
“Um, right... What was it you were going to ask, Nanako?” You quickly shifted the conversation, eager to move past the momentary misstep.
“Well...”
Nanako hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. She cleared her throat, her gaze fixed on you as her fingers gently ran through your hair.
“Why do you always wear a blindfold?”
The room fell silent, the weight of her question hanging in the air. 
Confusion clouded your expression as you searched for the right words to respond. The idea of why you wear the blindfold had never crossed your mind, as it was just a part of your daily routine. After all, you were blind, and the blindfold didn't make much of a difference in your world of darkness. All you knew was that Suguru had made it clear that it should never be removed—and you had no desire to provoke him.
Nanako could sense your discomfort as she observed your tense body language. Worried that she may have touched a nerve, she inquired tentatively, “Are you okay mama? You seemed agitated...”
“Nanako...” Mimiko began, her own brows knitting in concern. “That’s quite a sensitive question, don't you think?” She spoke softly, trying to redirect the conversation. 
Realizing her misstep, Nanako quickly shook her head and apologized, burying her face in the crook of your neck, her features partially obscured by your hair. “Ah.. I’m sorry mama! I didn’t realized that i was being insensitive...”
“It's okay,” you reassured her awkwardly, letting out a nervous chuckle as you cleared your throat.
“You’re not mad?” She asked, her voice soft and vulnerable as she pulled away from you, her eyes wide and pleading. Her puppy eyes looked up at you, brimming with an innocence that would have probably tugged at your heartstrings—only if you could see it.
“Hm..? ‘course not, don’t worry," you assured her, a gentle smile playing on your lips.
“‘S fine, really,” you said, your tone calm and reassuring.
“Ah.. right, about your previous question...Well, the reason I wear the blindfold is because Suguru told me to.”
“Huh..? Why would Geto-sama want you to wear a blindfold?”
Nanako’s perplexed tone cut through the air like a sharp blade, her confusion palpable. In her mind, she had painted Suguru as one who adored gazing into one’s eyes, the windows to one’s soul. But now, she couldn’t fathom the reasoning behind concealing them, especially when blindness couldn’t erase the existence of your eyes.
“I... Don’t know...” you trailed off as the room fell into an uneasy silence.
The silence was eventually shattered by Mimiko’s voice, breaking through the tension.
“Geto-sama says that you have the prettiest eyes that he has ever seen.” she chimed in, her gaze flitting between you and Nanako. A subtle shift in her posture saw her abandoning her spot on your lap, choosing instead to perch on the plush mattress.
“Huh? Geto-sama saw mama’s eyes?” Nanako asked, looking flabbergasted.
“Nanako, He’s her husband.” Mimiko reminded her twin sister.
“Right...”
“But then.. if he likes your eyes so much, why would he want you to hide them?” Mimiko’s words cut through the haze of confusion.
Your brows drew together, shoulders slightly slouching.
“I suppose that remains a mystery,” you finally replied, your voice laced with a tinge of curiosity and apprehension.
Mimiko and Nanako studied you curiously, wondering what your eyes truly looked like. Were they as beautiful as Suguru had described? However, they had never been permitted to remove your blindfold, and they weren’t the type to disobey Suguru. Despite their bratty tendencies, they were obedient. 
But then, What secrets actually lay behind that blindfold? They were tempted to take a look, Yet, the girls remained restrained by their loyalty to Suguru, reluctance staining their disobedient thoughts. 
“Perhaps he prefers it that way?” you mused, resting your head on your palms and propping your elbow on your thigh.
“I’m not really sure, if i’m gonna be honest.. he just likes it that way i guess.”
“I can’t even remember how I lost my vision too.”
You had no recollection of how you lost your sight, as your memories seemed to have vanished without a trace. All you knew was that Suguru was your husband, and he claimed that you had lost your memories due to your immune system attacking your eyes. 
According to him, your immune system had somehow identified your eyes as a threat, leading to inflammation and damage that resulted in your blindness. He insisted that there was a scientific basis for this too, as the immune system would attack the eye once it recognized its existence.  
And ofcourse, as the dumb little thing you are, you Believed him.
“Mama, are you okay?” Mimiko’s concerned voice breaks through the fog of your thoughts, drawing your attention. 
You compose yourself, managing a smile.
“I’m fine,” you reassure her softly.
Nanako’s eyes are searching, her worry palpable. “Are you sure?” she presses gently.
You can’t help but be touched by their concern, feeling a warmth blossoming in your chest. Meeting their gazes, you offer another smile.
“I promise, my loves, I truly am okay,” you say, a hint of laughter in your voice as you reach out to embrace them both. 
A surge of gratitude sweeps over you as you hold them close, basking in their presence.
“Having you two by my side and a husband who supports me tirelessly every day, I couldn’t ask for more,” you whisper.
“Life is tough, but atleast i have you all.”
Dumb little you was so oblivious and didn’t knew that suguru was the reason why your life was tough.
If only you had been aware that he was the mastermind behind all of this. He orchestrated the entire scheme that led to your memory loss and deceived you into believing he was your husband. It was also because of him that you lost your sight, although you were too dumb to realize it at the time. 
Suguru was deeply enamored with you and the two of you were once in a romantic relationship. However, when you decided to break up with him, his feelings of love turned into obsession. He resorted to disturbing and dangerous tactics to make sure you stayed with him—Such as manipulating and drugging you, all in the name of his overwhelming love for you as he was unable to bear the thought of losing you.  
It may have been your mistake to allow him into your life, however. Perhaps if you had declined Satoru’s invitation to hang out with him and Suguru, you would have never crossed paths with him. Maybe if you had refused to give Suguru your number or declined the love letters he presented, things would be different.
You wouldn’t be in this situation.
After embracing the girls tightly, you gently released them and affectionately patted their heads. Your expression brightened as you spoke,
“I’ll just show you how they look like to satisfy your curiosity, ‘kay?”
Nanako and Mimiko both eagerly nodded in agreement.  
“I bet they’re really pretty just as Geto-Sama says!” Nanako says and Mimiko nods in agreement.
“.. Suguru shouldn’t mind, at least I hope not,” you muttered under your breath.
With a deliberate motion, you gently lifted the blindfold with a slender finger, allowing just a sliver of sight for Mimiko and Nanako to catch a glimpse of your eyes. The room grew eerily silent as the two girls eagerly leaned in, their gazes fixed upon your mysterious orbs.
However, what they beheld was beyond their wildest imaginations, shattering their preconceived notions. Their eyes widened in disbelief, their pupils constricting in shock as a chilling wave of fear washed over them. Their jaws slackened.
Your eyes were tightly sewn together by a thick black thread infused with cursed energy. The thread was so tightly wound, and your eyelids were merged together, giving the appearance of eyes belonging to a puppet with carefully stitched features.
That was when they realized that you weren’t actually blind.
Nanako’s throat constricted as a strangled gasp clawed at her lips, her heart hammering violently against her ribcage. Mimiko’s body tensed, a tremor coursing through her frame as her eyes widened in sheer horror.
Suguru’s presence seemed to loom unnoticed until that moment, as he loitered casually by the door, propped against the wall with a nonchalant air, his head cocked to one side, observing them with a detached interest.
He was just there the whole moment you three were talking, completely silent and just watching.
A shiver ran down the two girl’s spines as their gazes collided. Suguru’s lips curled up in a knowing smirk, his ice-cold eyes staring at them as he brought a finger to his own lips as he mouths something.
“Can you keep a secret?”
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