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#i love watching their opinions and feelings of each other change
x-liv25-jamieswife · 2 days
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Xander and Gigi head cannons pls?
of course<3. they will literally be the best duo imaginable. i can feel it. not proof read so i apologize if anything doesn't make sense. hope you like them <3. @catapparently helped a bit with this one.
they will literally prank everyone all the damn time. they have a white board filled with prank ideas. (they once replaced jamie's alcohol with disgusting juice mixes they made. jamie ended up barfing for an entire day)
gigi is into robotics and stuff but doesn't know much about it. xander will sit with her for hours a day trying to explain everything to her.
they love playing twister for some odd reason. they're always trying to beat each other's scores.
xander is one of the only people (if not the only person) who gives her coffee voluntarily.
gigi loves lemon flavored scones and xander loves the blueberry ones, so they're always debating and fighting over who is right. (their debates get so intense. once, xander ended up in the pool naked (don't ask me how))
they comment on each other's posts saying things like "omg slay girl boss you ate that up" and stuff like that
when they gossip, they literally hold nothing back. gigi will be talking about a hookup (if she has any), and she'll be like 'and then he pulled out and he said "*****" to me whilst touching my **** and i literally almost came'. xander just sits there half traumatized and half really invested.
gigi writes fanfic on ao3 and will dedicate her fics to xander
speaking of fanfics, xander is also her beta reader sometimes
they cause arguments wherever they go. they'll be having dinner with skye, zara, and the others, and they'll purposely say smth like "omg did you hear that skye hooked up with zara's husband". everyone starts screaming, and they just sit in the back eating popcorn
they listen to cupcakke (the girl with the really dirty songs) together and scream the lyrics.
gigi once walked in on xander getting dressed (he was completely naked). she was so shocked she couldn't move, and xander just stood there staring at her. gigi managed to walk away (disgusted bc she just saw one of her closest friends naked), and xander was blushing profusely cause he was embarrassed.
they have the weirdest nicknames for each other. they call each other things like 'my little sugar plum sprinkled with pickles' or stuff like that.
xander flirts with gigi around grayson just to piss him off and gigi does the same (grayson gets weirded out cause although xander and gigi aren't related, he's related to both of them)
when they facetime, they literally bring each other everywhere. xander will literally go to the toilet with her on the phone. they have no shame.
they have an insta account together where they post the craziest shit ever (they sort of post videos like the sturniolo triplets. i don't watch them, but from what i've seen they remind me of gigi and xander)
xander and gigi make edits of gigi's cats and post them on tiktok.
they both decided to get a helix piercing. (they have matching earrings).
xander and gigi go to sex shops and laugh at the toys. they'll see lingerie or smth and gigi will go 'it's so coquette it turns me off'
gigi and xander cannot spell properly when they text. they'll be trying to say 'yoo wanna come over for a sleepover' but it comes out as 'yu wsna cime ocer for a skeepkowr' or smth like that
they were once at the park pushing each other down slides, but gigi pushed xander too hard and he fell face first into the grass.
after this event, she changed his contact name to 'grass eating cow'
gigi is a little too comfortable around xander. she asks him things like 'do you think one of my boobs is bigger than the other' or 'do you think my ass is slapable'. xander usually just stays quiet unless gigi insists he responds, and then he panics and says something random.
they go to stores to just touch all of the blankets until they find the softest ones, and then they buy them. in their opinion, you will not get a good night's sleep if you don't have a good blanket.
they get really cold easily so they're always huddled up together in a corner.
gigi is the grumpiest person you could ever imagine when she's on her period. xander runs around getting her everything she asks for when she has cramps and stuff freaking out because he doesn't want her to kill him.
gigi and xander vent to each other a lot. they're really similar and so they get each other like no one else does. they cry in each others arms regularly but always end up laughing bc some of their problems are just so stupid.
gigi helps him draw his missing eyebrow back on for events with an eyebrow pencil. she's gotten quite good at it.
at the end of the year, they organize this event where they talk about their fav fanfics and crown one as their absolute fav (they have different categories like smut, romance, au, etc)
for halloween one year, gigi dressed up as a dildo and xander as a pocket p*ssy (gigi dared him to)...
(don't mind that last one, my sister dared me to add it)
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tabbyrocks · 8 months
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@ghostdoctor i had to like scroll so carefully to fit this into one screenshot but THESE IDEAS ARE SO CUTE
i think we finally found something we have different opinions on because i physically cant see this before izuku's crush realization for me.
i just really like the idea of like when monoma and izuku sorta become buddy buddy with their shared quirk enjoyment Izuku starts to become endeared by the little things (and even the things he used to think were lowkey annoying) that monoma would do when they spend time together.
AND LIKE WHEN 1-A QUESTION"S IZUKU OR SHITS ON MONOMA IZUKU IS LIKE "guys he's actually really sweet" and someone would be like
"no he just has a soft spot for you"
and like,,, he does. monoma like absolutely refuses to admit it but he really does think that izuku is just amazing. better than him in every way. which fuels his inferiority complex but also has this mixed in admiration and it messes with monoma's head SO BAD because hes supposed to hate this boy.
he wants to be around izuku but he wants to run away from his as fast as he can when hes nearby. he wants to love him but it would never work because izuku is thousands of miles ahead of him in everything, so why would he ever look back at monoma? why would he ever choose him out of all people. its impossible, so its better to hate him then to get himself hurt by wishing on a star that doesn't even exist.
and then with Midoriya, he probably thinks that monoma lowkey dislikes him still since he sucks at expressing feelings by anything other then being mean so its like
izuku knows that monoma likes being around him because he keeps spending time with him, but sometimes he's unsure due to the things Monoma says. (AUTISM. and his self image issues lol)
so these two are just in this never ending "he doesn't like me like that" cycle and the hypothetical readers are just like
"FUUUUCCCKKKKKKKK PLEASE JUST TALK ABOUT FEELINGS OR SOMTHING FOR ONE MINUTE I BEG"
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risestarkiss · 3 months
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Orange, Baby!
Rise Ramblings #316
When I think about Mikey, this scene always comes to mind.
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As soon as they step foot in the library to save Mayhem, Angelo instantly disqualifies himself…hilariously.
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On first watch, I found it interesting that he made this decision with no hesitation, especially given the stakes.
At the time I just resigned to him being a silly silly boy, but now I know better.
Yet, before we get ahead of ourselves, let’s explore who Mikey is.
Michelangelo Hamato is the youngest turtle in the family, and it shows.
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Consequently, he seems to possess a certain “youngest brother privilege" that his other brothers just can’t help but reinforce. This is the role that Mikey was born into. Therefore, he doesn’t have to push himself to be the smartest, or cleverest, or strongest turtle.
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Instead, he decides to be the artist of the family. He’s a creative! He expresses himself everywhere, from stickers on his own shell, to tagging the lair, as well as on paper. The world is his canvas!
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Michelangelo also expresses himself in virtually everything he does, so it’s easy to understand why he’s the most open, honest, caring, and emotionally expressive turtle of the bunch. To some it could be seen as a weakness, yet Mikey uses his emotional intelligence as a pillar of strength, of which he utilizes to uphold his brothers when they need support the most.
In the show, Michelangelo often takes on certain personas; Doctor Feelings and Doctor Delicate Touch. (For some reason, they are all doctors, but that’s beside the point.)
At first glance, the personas could be seen as silly bouts of make-believe. But I think that placing these roles upon himself for his brothers' sake is Michelangelo’s way of helping them cope with the world by offering them what they each individually lack.
For instance, Raph, Leo, and Donnie have trouble voicing their discomforts when someone does something they don’t like.
In other words, they have trouble putting their foot down.
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But here is Mikey to the rescue!
Dr. Delicate Touch has no such hang-ups.
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Similarly, when Donatello runs into trouble, as he is unable to recognize his own emotions, it’s up to Doctor Feelings to help his desperate client in need.
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Through taking on these roles, Mikey is able to support his brothers and fill the emotional gaps in his teammates, which, inevitably makes them all stronger.
How is Mikey able to do this and how does he have the strength to take on these roles?
You could think that it’s just in his character, meaning, it’s just how he is. I don’t think so, though. He’s a free thinker, and a creative, but there’s something about these roles that is specifically catered to the needs of his family.
Then I realized, the only reason that Mikey is able to help his brothers in this way is because they first helped him.
Let me explain.
All four of the boys grew up in the same household. Although Splinter tried his very best (there is no Splinter hate here), a single depressed parent doth not a stable child make. Raphael struggled with the burden of his responsibilities as an ad hoc leader (see Being Big Red), Leo struggled with expressing his natural talents as a middle child (see Being Baby Blue), all while Donnie struggled with carving out his place on the team and his feelings of uselessness (see Being Purple Part One and Part Two).
Well, what does Mikey struggle with?
In my humble opinion, nothing.
The struggles of his brothers all related to each turtle coming to terms with themselves and coming to terms with their place on the team.
Yet, due to the love and support of his brothers and father, Michelangelo never had to ask himself if he belonged, struggle with his role on the team, or make huge life-changing decisions that could affect everyone.
Michelangelo is free to just be Michelangelo.
And as a free spirit who is completely in tune with his own emotions, he is able to do things like this:
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and this,
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and this.
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Let’s get back to the scene in the library.
Angelo sees the high stakes of his friend’s pet disappearing forever if they fail but makes the decision to disqualify himself anyway. Why? Because he knows that no matter what he does, it will all be ok.
He has complete faith in his brothers and their ability to solve the problem at hand, so he might as well have some fun.
This not the first time he’s come to this conclusion.
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Through out this entire scene, Michelangelo plays in the background.
It’s scenes like this that makes me believe that Mikey’s faith in his family knows no bounds.
Altogether, his brothers and his father were everything he needed to become who he is. Reciprocally, he is free to be everything that they need him to be and more. Over…
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and over,
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and over again
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he trusts them completely.
And through this unwavering trust in his family, he is able to trust himself and his instincts. He knows that with everything they’ve poured into him, he can save them from, well, everything. Over…
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and over…
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and over again.
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Hence, due to all of this evidence, I believe that through the collective love of his family, Michelangelo became the best version of the Hamato spirit, and thus, the best Mystic Warrior of all time.
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All because, he’s Orange, baby!
○○○○
Previous | Being Big Red • Being Baby Blue • Being Purple ○ Part One • Being Purple ○ Part Two
Finale | Being Hamato Yoshi
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leviathans-watching · 9 months
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omg i love your work!! if posisble, can you do a part 2 to touching their wings and stuff with the dateables or maybe other characters? thank you and take care :D
touching their tails/horns/etc. pt 2
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includes: diavolo, barbatos, simeon, mephisto, raphael x/& gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)
wc: .5k | rated t | m.list | pt 1
a/n: i took a lot of creative liberties with this one, either because their forms haven't been revealed or just because i wanted to so just assume most of this is not canon at all lol
please reblog and like <33
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➳ diavolo laughs as you poke at the gilded ends of his wings, taking in the intricate design. “it’s real gold,” he says before you can ask, gesturing to the tips of his horns, “as are these. it’s a birth present to children of our family, laced with magic that let’s it grow and change along with is. it’s a symbol of our wealth, our status.” you reach up to touch his horns, and he leans into your touch, happy to let you explore as you wish. “sometimes i think they’re a bit much, and then i remember who i am,” he continues, and you chuckle, making him laugh again too.
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➳ barbatos’ tail twitches as you run your hand along it, obviously surprised by the texture. “that feels good,” he says mildly, and you give him a grin, twisting the end of each forked part between your fingers gently. if it keeps you occupied he’s happy to let you play with his tail for as long as you want. only because of that, obviously. not because he can’t remember the last time, if ever, someone’s touched him like this. or because your touch is soothing something inside of him he hadn’t known needed soothed.
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➳ mephisto bows his head for you, letting you feel over the nubs where his horns should have been. “they never grew in quite properly,” he explains, sighing as you scratch gently at his scalp around them, “which is why i don’t often reveal my demon form. it’s a bit embarrassing, isn’t it? of course, my parents offered to have false horns inset, and lord diavolo knows we had the money for it, but, well, that just sounded like a bother.” you press your fingers to hs head, eyes steady, and he’s glad to see you’re not thinking of him any differently.
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➳ raphael unfurls his wings, and you catch your breath. he’s often been told that his wings are beautiful, richly colored like a peacock’s, and your reaction goes on to support that opinion. “you can touch, if you’d like,” he offers, and you don’t hesitate, burying your fingers in the downy feathers near where they connect to his back. his head falls back, and a quiet peace goes over the two of you as you stroke your way from base to wing tip, then back, soothing actions putting him on the verge of sleep.
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➳ simeon wakes up to the feel of your touch on his wing, soft and hesitant. sometime during the night, he’d transformed into his angel form, wings splayed out and over the bed, almost covering the whole thing in their enormity. they certainly cover you, like a warm, live, down blanket. he twitches instinctively, and you pull your hands back. “no, no,” he says sleepily, “you can keep going. it feels good when you touch me.” he sees you smile and smiles too, even though he’s already being lured back into sleep by your soft strokes across the top of his wing, where the feathers are smooth and packed together.
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leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own
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What The Heart Wants || Young President!Coriolanus Snow x Reader
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GIF by @aemondtargaryen divider by @firefly-graphics
Summary: This marriage was nothing but unhappiness. You always felt like you lived in the shadow of Lucy Gray. But you try to pretend, pretend that this marriage was everything you could have ever dreamed of.
Warnings: little detail of smut
Wc:
Coriolanus Snow Masterlist
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Your fingers play with the ends of your dress that your mother insisted you wear. In your opinion, the dress was abit too tight, short, and the neckline a tad bit lower than what was deemed appropriate for a simple get together with the President, your fiancé.
“Smile Y/n, Smile.” Your mother urges with a forced smile as you roll your eyes. The door suddenly opens as your mother and father immediately stand up. You let out a huff before standing up as well as Coriolanus Snow in all his glory walks in.
He doesn’t even spare your parents a look or you for that matter. He just sits down on the armchair beside yours with a huff. You watch him as he rolls up his sleeves, he had yet to speak. “Lovely too see you again, Evangeline, Festus, and Y/n” He politely nods.
His voice was stern, cold. “Likewise, President Snow, likewise” You mother grins widely, her tone sickly sweet. “Please, call just call me Coryo. You are to be my in-laws soon. Best to cut the formality early on,” He voices out as he leans over and pops a grape in his mouth.
Your knees were crossed as you stare down at your hands. Snow turns his head, finally looking at you. You could feel his gaze from your peripheral vision. A sudden kick to your shin made you groan out loud as your mother gives you a death glare.
Clearing your throat, you face Coriolanus. “What colour do you plan to wear for the wedding day? So you know, I can match,” He stares hard at your face, studying every detail. “White.” Is all he said before facing your parents again as he starts conversation with them on a topic you couldn’t care less about.
~
Snow had always been cold towards you from the moment the two of you started courting each other. It wasn’t a marriage for love, it was arranged. Coming from a high born family in the Capitol, disciplined to be the perfect wife, you were a perfect candidate to become First Lady.
And not to forget how close your parents and his parents were before they died. Coriolanus had changed when he came back from exile. He was no longer the sweet boy you used to remember.
He was now driven with power and authority. You never asked him questions about the details of his exile as peacekeeper during the times you would spend together. He would merely brush it off and tell you never to ask him about it again.
You were never one to listen to Capitol gossip but there were whispers going around about how Snow was in a relationship with his tribute, Lucy Gray. And that she ran away from him just before he returned back. You remember seeing the two together on camera, there always seemed to be a certain chemistry between the two that not much people paid attention to. But you.
He seemed completely closed off when you first met him after his banishment. He was always drifting in and out of reality. You had a feeling he wasn’t over Lucy Gray. No matter how much she hurt him for leaving.
“Coryo,” Your voice was gentle as you place a hand on his arm. He was out of it again. “She asked what flavour cake you wish to have,” You slowly say as his eyes were stuck to the wall behind the woman sat across from them. “Whatever flavour you want.” He shrugs. Before you could open your mouth again, he beats you to it.
“Is this really necessary? I have other important things to be doing right now.” He snaps, unfolding his sleeves as he gets ready to get up. You furrow your eyebrows at him as the woman starts to pack up the papers on the table before you stop her.
“Coryo, you told me you cleared your schedule today.” You fold your arms as he buttons up his jacket, looking at you. “I’d rather be home than here.” And with that, he doesn’t spare you another look and walks away. You watch his figure disappear as you sit back down, defeated.
“Should I continue without President Snow?” Your eyes move to the lady awkwardly sitting there. “Yes, yes you can continue,” You sigh. This was the third time Coriolanus blew these meetings off. Both of you despised the idea of getting married, especially to one another. But it had to be done. For duty.
~
“Oh you look absolutely gorgeous, my love. You’re going to be the prettiest woman Coryo has ever laid eyes on.” You scoff, downing the liquid down as you get ready to walk down the aisle. “Remember, smile!” Your mother points to her smile as you roll your eyes and link arms with your father.
The doors opened and the crowd gasp. You looked ethereal. Perfect. Doll-like. You smiled like you were taught to do and walked with such elegance and poise. Snow’s back was turned to you, but the moment he turned around, you swore you couldn’t breathe for a second.
Coriolanus’ hands were cold against your warm hands. His piercing blue eyes studied your face as words around you drown out. “You may now kiss the bride.” Coriolanus leaned in as did you and your lips touched. The kiss was gentle and didn’t last long. You could tell he was reluctant to kiss you.
He then smiled brightly, turning to face the crowd and your mother’s words come rolling in. Smile. Pretend you’re happy. You both had to act like you were infatuated with one another for the rest of the day until you arrived at Snow’s mansion. Your new home.
The moment you walked through the doors, the façade was over. Coriolanus made a beeline to his study where he slammed the door shut as you stand alone in the hallway, still in your wedding dress. Exhaustion caught up to you so your heavy footsteps led you to your shared room with him.
You were helped out of the dress by servants. The silk slip soft on your skin as you let your hair loose. It was quiet. Too quiet for yo ur liking. You sat at the end of the bed for some time, thinking about everything and anything until the door abruptly opened revealing Snow.
He paused when he saw you, almost forgetting that you two were married now and were going to be sharing the same bed from now on. He sighs before closing the door behind him.
He starts taking his jacket and long sleeve off. “Why aren’t you asleep” He voices out, his back turned to you as you watch his back muscles flex. “I’m not tired,” You said, barely a whisper as Snow turns around, his eyes trained on you. “Suit yourself,” He said before entering the bathroom.
You decided to move up the bed and lean against the backboard of the humongous bed that you and Snow will be sharing. You played with your fingers the entire time Coriolanus was in the shower.
You hear the water jets stop and he steps out, towel hanging around his hips as he has another towel drying his platinum blonde hair. He gets dressed in just boxers before making his way to the bed. He turns off his bedside light and lays on his back. You were still leaned up on the backboard.
Coriolanus then leaned over you and turned your bedside light off before sleeping on his side, back towards you. You stared at the back of his head for a while. “Coryo…” You softly say. You knew he was awake. “Coryo.” You say once again, your hand gently on his shoulder as he sigh and turns to lay on his back. “Y/n. It’s been an exhausting day. Can this possibly wait until tomorrow” He snaps.
“No.” You say in a firm tone that was abit too loud. You took yourself by surprise as Snow raises an eyebrow at you. “We’re married now.” Your tone was bitter. You were becoming just as frustrated as he was with you. A long due reciprocation.
“I’m aware.” He flatly stated, his eyes shifting away from your body to the ceiling. You sensed his unsatisfactory behaviour towards you, and you felt, a feeling that you had become very familiar with recently. Vulnerable. Coriolanus did not want you one bit. You knew that.
But you wanted to atleast pretend that you were going to spend the rest of your life with someone who loved you. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t do it. A part of you understood that this was obviously wasn’t ideal for either parties, but you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, like you weren’t enough.
You were always hit on by other eligible males in the Capitol, but when it came to President Snow, you weren’t even remotely spared a glance. So, you decided that tonight, your honeymoon night, to pretend that there is as much passion as you needed to make you feel as though you were marrying the man of your dreams.
“Look at me.” You demanded, watching as Coriolanus beside you slowly tore his eyes away from the ceiling to bore into your face. “Coryo,” You began, moving from the backboard to get closer to him. You leant into him, foreheads touching. You could feel his breathing stagger, his breath began to tremble as if he was straining tears.
"Please," Your grabbed his face desperately, almost beginning to start sobbing yourself, as if your bodies being this close to one another transformed them into one big, contagious product of unfairness and agony—indulging in one another helplessly.
"Please, Coryo, pretend I'm her," you never once thought in your life you would have to beg for a man to worship you the way he did another—before courting the President of Panem, you would have ques of eligible men at your feet—not even having to raise a finger.
"What?" He mumbled back, an unconfident whimper, his eyebrows furrowed—casting a shadow over his vacant eyes, causing his piercing blue eyes to darken.
"I never though I'd have to say this, but " You breathed out, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose, "Pretend I'm her, pretend I'm Lucy Gray Baird. Even if she broke you, atleast you felt something for her." Your voice cracked as the nonchalant popular girl of Panem facade you’d spent your entire life up keeping, having Snow as a publicity accessory, had shattered in his grip.
Coriolanus didn't know what to say. He had never seen you in this state. You didn't know, but he watched you all the time through the cameras around the mansion and around Panem. Snow barely knew how to express his emotions adequately himself, let alone watching you break down.
You were in pain. As if you were swallowing back acid. "I just want to feel loved," You trembled. This was all so new to you, expressing your feelings, confiding to someone. "Even if it takes you having to think about someone else to make me feel like it.l And so, Snow silently agreed.
He took the invitation of being allowed to think about Lucy Gray in his embrace if it made you feel better. Selfish to an extent, but technically, what you wanted from him was equally so. As long as he appreciated your body as if it were a relic, to make her feel something, he'd be able to fantasise about the one thing he'd usually feel guilty about thinking. Lucy Gray crushed his heart. His soul.
Yet he couldn't stop thinking about the girl who betrayed her. And so, you mollified into him as he embraces your frame, kissing you the same way he'd been musing about doing so with Lucy, if he were to ever get the chance again.
Both your tears were the supplement of real passion, the dampness on your faces resembling sweat as tears fell between each aggrieved, desperate kiss.
More desperate, more intimate. You knew what Coriolanus wanted, and you gave in. You allowed him to see Lucy Gray through your eyes. And although they were a completely different colour, Snow swore he saw her eyes gazing back at him for a millisecond; and that was motivating enough.
Now you were both in pieces, too bad puzzles aren't taught how to piece themselves back together.
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6gumi · 8 days
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which dress looks good on me?
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synopsis ﹒your husband aventurine helps you pick out dresses ! ( gone wrong ! )
pairings﹒aventurine x f!reader
cw﹒nsfw MDNI. unedited. 、 established relationship 、mirror sex 、semi-public sex 、reader physically smaller 、mild titplay 、 squirting 、aventurine referred to as “kakavasha” once or so 、a bit of choking 、nicknames used ( baby, sweetheart, more ! ) 、more tba !
note﹒hi hii ! ! decided to change things up w my formatting . . . since the last one wasn’t that good so i hope this new format it looks fine :3 this is a lil short but it’s oki ! ! | reblogs are highly appreciated ! if you want to talk to me, send a rq or thirst . . . feel free to send me an ask ! — millie ♡
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it was another day of spending time with your husband, of course . . . he spoiled you a shit ton today, even though you scolded him not to ! but of course, he wouldn’t listen. hmph, typical. you were both in one of the big changing rooms in your favourite place to shop at, examining the dress that hugged your body, the coldness of the room making you shiver. “hmm . . .” you hummed, raising a brow as you took a step closer to the mirror, “ . . aven, i’m not sure about this dress.” you murmured, glancing at your beloved husband staring at you in pure awe, ugh . . he was like a puppy. it was cute.
aventurine whistled, his rough fingertips tracing the outline of your ass, smirking when he felt you jump. “i like it, i guess you don’t then,” he chuckled with a shrug, taking a step closer. “maybe try another one on and see how it looks, maybe something a bit looser, if you prefer. but to me, i like this one.”
“babe, you said that with the five other dresses i tried on earlier.”
“ . . . so?”
“sooo which means that . . . you need to be more with me, you can’t just say “yes it looks good” every single time, y’know . . . i need your honest opinion.” you spoke, crossing your arms.
“well, you did look good in all those dresses you tried on earlier, even this one you still look as beautiful as ever.” aventurine’s pretty eyes roamed over your body with admiration. "your body is perfect just the way it is." aventurine reached out, gently cupping one of your round breasts through the thin material of your dress. "and if anything, you're just getting even more beautiful with each passing day." he leaned in close, nuzzling your neck as he whispered into your ear, " . . mm . . but if you want to look extra hot, maybe we should find something that shows off your cute breasts over here. maybe . . one that allows them to spill right out—“
“kakavasha.”
“what? i was only telling the truth, sweetheart. can’t handle it?”
the dress surely was stunning, accentuating every part of you. but there was something missing . . . like something else needed to be added. hm . . you weren’t sure what. could it be the color? maybe it wasn’t your color? you just weren’t sure. a hand ran through your hair again, slowly trailing down towards the fat of your ass . . . feeling a small yet sharp slap that stung your skin. “you really can’t decide? just get all of them, love. you know i can afford them. unless . . you want me to tell you how i feel about this dress in specific . . both on and off. would that be to your liking?” that smug lil’ smirk on his face . . . you knew exactly what he meant by that. it was risky, but hey . . . you didn’t mind that. you nodded, raising a brow with a smile.
aventurine’s eyes darted over your figure, lingering on the swell of your breasts beneath the dress you wore, he could feel his cock stirring in his pants, straining against the fabric of his boxers. aventurine silently cursed his weakness, his thoughts betraying him at the most inopportune time. “mmh . . . let’s start here.” your husband’s fingers tickled your chin, facing you to the mirror infront of you, as if he wanted you to watch every single thing he does. gripping your hips, he pressed your body firmly against the cold mirror . . his fingers moved deftly, reaching down to flip your dress upwards, sliding his eager digits within your heat . . stroking your wet slit.
“aven . . .” a breathy whimper slipped between your lips as aventurine pressed his thumb against your clit, his other fingers dipping into your folds. He could feel her body respond to his touch, your hips bucking slightly as you tried stifling moans.
“mm . . this dress presents you so well, angel. i like the fabric used . . i also like how these present these tits of yours. ‘s fucking pretty. you can’t expect me to not look at them, can you, baby?” he teased, his fingers brushing over your nipples gently. “if you ever wore this at an important gathering . . fuck. i’d get hard so quick,” his voice . . . goodness his voice. he was so close to you, his body pressed firmly against yours, rubbing his cock against your backside. “speaking of that . . look how hard you made me, baby. just ‘cuz i saw you in this pretty dress.”
the gambler trapped you close against the mirror, cock twitching at the sight of your breasts pressing against the cold surface. his eyes darkened, desire burning in his depths as he looked at the reflection of his wife. your breathing hitched, eyes half-closed, and lips parted in need. "fuck, baby . . . you're driving me insane," aventurine growled, his voice desperate and thick with lust. he adjusted the dress, pulling it down just enough to reveal more of your breasts . . . mouth watering at the sight, his cock throbbing painfully in response. “i’m gonna fuck this pretty pussy . . kay? i’m gonna fuck this pretty pussy.” aventurine’s skilled hands wrapped themselves around your throat, applying pressure with a squeeze. “. . . ‘gonna fuck you hard against this mirror until we get kicked out, kay?”
“ . . okay . . “
“good girl.” his hand squeezed around your neck once more as his cock slid smoothly into your wet heat. his breath hitched as he felt your warmth enveloping him, your wet heat surrounding his dick. your moans and his groans bounced off the walls of the fitting room, not caring if anyone was waiting outside to try on their own clothes . . that’s their problem! “oh baby . . . i will never stop fucking this cunt of yours.” aventurine groaned deeply, losing all control within his nerves as they were all conveyed by pure lust for you. the sounds of the mall faded away, replaced by the slap of your bodies connecting, the soft gasps and whimpers escaping both of you and him.
"this fuckin’ dress . . . fuck i’m gonna ruin it. ruin you, baby.” the gambler breathed raggedly, rough hands gripping your thighs tightly as he pounded into you with no avail or intention of stopping, his eyes locked on the reflection, watching himself taking his pretty wife in the sexiest dress he’d ever seen. “watch me while i fuck you, my little wife. do you see my cock sliding in and out of you? ‘s good . . isn’t it?”
"god, yes!" you cried out, clenching your fists against the mirror, your husband’s eyes locked on the image of your plump tits bouncing with each thrust with your face flushed with passion. “more, aven . . more more more !” goodness . . . you were almost certain that people from the outside heard you both fuckin’ and getting it down in there. in full honesty . . . aventurine didn't care who heard, he didn't care about the consequences. all he cared about was satisfying his desperate hunger for you, feeling your body clench around him. oh . . the way your heat enveloped his member like a blanket drove him crazy. it took every ounce of control left in his body to not cum instantly . . wanting to savour the moment more.
“a—aven i’m gonna cum . . .”
“yeah? cum, angel. cum on my cock . . maybe cum on the mirror too . . give the workers a hard time cleaning our intimacy.” he chuckled, landing a swift smack to your ass. fuck, the sensation was too much for you. your orgasm crashed into you like a tidal wave, overwhelming you completely. with a gasp, you squirted all over the mirror, milking your husbands cock as you did so . . . your vision swam with pleasure, mind hazy with orgasmic bliss. “well then . .” aventurine spoke again, grunting when he emptied himself into you. “did that prove anything? prove how much i liked this dress . . ?”
“sh—shit . . mm . . yes, yes it did . .”
“good. then let’s get this one then, baby. can’t wait to completely ruin you again in this dress when we get home.”
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© 6GUMI. please do not modify 、translate 、share my works on other platforms 、or consider them as yours.
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moonbaetarot · 22 days
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Pick a pile
what will your next relationship be like
1. 2. 3.
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Pile 1
This person is going to respect your boundaries and respect you as a whole they know where they stand In the relationship. They are a bit greedy with their money they may be very money oriented. They do have a very good job tho. This relationship is going to have a good foundation. This person may be a bit jealous they don’t like other people trying to hit on you or in the way of your relationship. If they are a male they show their emotions they aren’t afraid to show emotions and tell you how they feel if they are sad or had a bad day. I feel like you can go to this person if you need an opinion on something and they are going to tell you the truth right or wrong. You are definitely going to be physically intimate with this person. You Two may meet at work or while traveling. This relationship will definitely be a big change in your life. You could meet this person in the summer time. I feel like at the end of the day this relationship with very lighthearted, just two people making memories and having fun. This person may be a bit stubborn or you are. For some this person could a distant friend at first.
Thank you for reading loves! 🤍
Pile 2
I see that you manifested this person into your life you may have been single for a while before you two meet. This relationship is going to be adventures I see you trying and doing a lot of new things with this person. If you procrastinate a lot this person is going to help you not procrastinating as much like if you put of making your bed they are going to be like “come on babe just do it it’s going to take like 5 minutes” I feel like they really help you with that. You two compliment each other so well. Y’all may get into fights about petty little things but they do this just to play fight with you lol. I feel like at times you may feel like this person doesn’t have enough time to be in a relationship or has to much on there plate to be in one. this person is going to be on the same level and vibe as you like if you’re someone who has a lot of energy they definitely do aswell. This love you two have if going go be very passionate and firey. You can go to this person for advice they are a very wise person. They are going to have a huge crush on you i see them watching your from a far not in a creepy way lol they may just be in the same area as you or watch you on social media before they make their move on you.
Thank you for reading loves! 🤍
Pile 3
I feel like this relationship is really going to heal you. Someone in this pile may have mommy/daddy issues and this person like heals that in you. If you don’t have issues with your parents it may just be you have never really felt loved or cared for in that way. You or this person could be very artistic and creative. This person is very romantic they love buying you flowers, taking you on dates and buying you whatever you want. This person cares about you and your feelings they put a lot of effort into you and this relationship. This relationship is going to be deep and loving built through trust and understanding. I feel like this person is very good with there words. This person is going to going to show you what’s it’s like to be loved. I see this relationship lasting a very long time this is definitely an important and significant relationship in your life time. They want the world with you they want a future with you. You’re on the right path to meeting this person keep doing what you’re doing and you two will meet. For some you you just got out of a relationship/situation this happened so you and this new person could meet. This person likes to be in charge and dominant in the relationship. You may meet this person after some type of family sorrow. I see you venting and crying to this person about this sorrow i feel like this took a big toll on you. But they are they to care and comfort you. You may love candles or like fire.
Thank you for reading loves! 🤍
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queenie-ofthe-void · 2 months
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“Led Zeppelin? Never heard of them,” Steve lies, like a liar. Of course he’s heard of them, thinks maybe Hop’s mentioned them before. Doesn’t really know the band well, and probably definitely couldn’t name a song. But the comment serves its purpose, and the trap is set.
Eddie calls it the Zep Campaign. Every day they’ll listen to one album, and Steve will pick his favorite song from each. Eight days for eight albums. On the last day, they’ll narrow it down to one song to rule them all– because apparently even Led Zeppelin likes the Mordor books Dustin doesn’t shut up about. 
Each day, Steve struggles to pick a favorite. Day four isn’t bad– doesn’t mind a song that is actually called Rock and Roll, which is just a lazy title in his opinion– but they’re only half way through and the songs are all starting to sound the same. An endless stream of too-fast guitar melodies and weird, wobbly sounds he’s sure he’s never heard before. The vocals are his favorite part, but the lyrics are vague and confusing.
Long story short, he’s not a fan.
But this growing thing between him and this ridiculous metalhead is new, fragile. So if it’s important to Eddie, it’s important to Steve. 
“Stevie, we really don’t have to keep doing this,” Eddie concedes. It’s day eight, the final album, and he thinks even Eddie might be desperate to listen to something different. “You’ve listened to every other album and honestly this one is the worst. They were all on drugs, and this isn’t even their sound ya know? Like it’s not even real metal.”
And honestly, Steve does know. He’s been listening to this band for eight days and yeah, all the songs sound the same. But these ones are different. Softer. He’s made it this far, and he’s nothing if not persistent for the people he loves.
Sprawled out on the floor next to the boy he likes, passing a fading joint back and forth, he thinks he can suffer a bit longer. 
“No Eds come on, we’re halfway through anyways. Just flip it over and we’ll smoke while we finish.” Eddie huffs a sigh, but Steve can see the slight uptick of his lips, reminding him of why he’s doing this. He flips the record and crawls back, presses himself flush up against Steve’s side.
The next song is long, too long to keep his attention. They burn down their joint and Steve leans heavily onto Eddie’s open chest. He gets lost staring at the vinyl art. A guy dressed in a fancy white suit sits alone in a dive bar, the only splash of color against a dull background. The bartender looks gruff, like the rest of the bar, making the man stand out even more. He wonders if that’s how he looks posted up at the Hideout during Eddie’s shows. Wonders if he looks just as out of place in Eddie’s life as this man does, even though he looks comfortable there too. 
Eddie shifts his arms around Steve, bringing him back to the present. The song has changed and Steve feels the slow melody wash over him.
“Wait,” Steve cries out, flailing up and out of Eddie’s arms as he registers the new song. It’s soft with a steady beat. It’s got synth-- the sound Eddie told him he likes in pop music. This song isn’t loud and chaotic like the rest. The voice is soothing and the lyrics are mostly simple enough. It’s different, and he can’t believe it but–
All of my love, all of my love
all of my love to you, oh
“This one. I like this song. Like actually like it.”
Eddie sits up and stares at him. He can see the dramatic shock and annoyance on Eddie’s face. But it’s doing nothing to hide his broad smile and shining eyes. 
“Steven. Stevie. Baby, sweetheart, this absolutely cannot be your favorite Zeppelin song. Out of all the songs on all the albums and all the hours of poetic melodies I’ve forced upon you, you choose the most non-Zep Zeppelin song.” Steve laughs sweetly as he watches Eddie fail to keep the glee out of his supposedly annoyed voice.
The cup is raised, the toast is made yet again
One voice is clear above the din
“This song isn’t even metall!" Eddie screeches. He rants and raves, waiving his arms as he regales Steve with all of the reasons he should absolutely not like this one particular song. He's shining with happiness, dial turned up to a hundred and it's all aimed at Steve. He can't help but to gaze back fondly, enraptured in the adorably obnoxious spectacle.
"It’s all synth, almost no guitar because Page didn’t even write this one! He wrote all of them except two songs, Stevie, and of course that’s the one you chose. No one who knows good music even likes this album. It’s not even metal music and honestly I almost didn’t show it to you, that’s how bad it is!” They're both giggling, leaning falling slowly into the other's space. Facing one another, their feet tangled together, Steve twists and pulls on Eddie's rings. Just to touch.
“Well, maybe that’s why I like it,” Steve snarks, taking his hand. “Plus it’s a love song.” Daring to reach out.
All of my love, all of my love, yes
All of my love to you
Eddie’s smile dims a bit, softens at the edges as he grows serious. “It’s not a love song Stevie, not like that.” He’s looking at Steve but he isn’t. Looking past him into the back of his thoughts. “The lead singer, he wrote it for his son. His kid died of some kind of bad illness while he was on tour. Didn’t make it back in time.”
He pauses, and Steve waits. Knows Eddie has more to say, hoping his patience will pay off. Eddie’s sight refocuses and he heaves a heavy sigh. His eyes glisten as they lock onto Steve.  
“My mom used to sing it all the time. While she was cooking, or putting me to bed, or pulling weeds in the garden. She’d sing it constantly. Hell, she didn’t even know all the words, but she’d still try and sing the interludes– ya know, the music between the lyrics.” He laughs lightly, a stray tear just barely hanging on. Steve tightens his grip around Eddie’s hands and presses a kiss to his knuckles. A silent sign of gentle support and encouragement. 
“Sounds like a love song to me,” Steve whispers. Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to his forehead and pulls Eddie into a tight hug. 
All of my love, all of my love, to you now
“A love song just for you, from both of us.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I've always headcanoned that Eddie loves Led Zeppelin, because he plays guitar and loves metal and reads Lord of the Rings so of course he would.
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beauspot · 9 months
Text
Thoughts on my second watch of Good Omens 2
i heard the fly buzzing in my first watch but didn’t know why and now i know
Maggie my sweet darling angel baby i love you
Aziraphale turning their car yellow
crowleys “no more dying” in extreme scottish.
Disposable Demon i’ll save you from these awful people i promise 😭
Aziraphale’s little smile when he says “smitten” to Crowley
i wonder if crowley was especially hurt because aziraphale seemed to be able to forgive gabriel who tried to kill him but can’t seem to forgive him being a demon.(still seeing all of this as a metaphor for internalized homophobia, like aziraphale knows he’s not the perfect angel he wants to be and he’s projecting his feelings about that onto crowley)
I can’t believe we got an actual ball. like pride and prejudice, bridgerton ball.
the beautiful score that started playing when aziraphale brought the chandelier down
i didn’t even realize that when they walked in the outfits changed. mrs sandwich made me realize(also i love her)
Nina being the only one to question the weird magical shit Aziraphale and Crowley do sends me so bad.
Season 2 took everything i liked about the first season (aziracrow, queer subtext, gay people, archangels, and beelzebub) and expanded on it
The adorable smile on Aziraphales face when he asked Crowley to dance 😭 he’s so pure(i should have known something was up, everything was going too well)
Crowley saying i won’t leave you on your own and Aziraphale saying i know 🤒
why isn’t aziraphale able to miracle nina and maggie??
crowley and mrs sandwich flirting. too cute
crowley saying he’s neither nice nor a lad.
crowleys little run in heaven when he’s following muriel
maggie giving the middle finger to the demons and laughing in their face when they tried to belittle her. queen
defensive aziraphale is so badass. just because he’s soft doesn’t mean he can’t stand up for himself or the people he loves
the random guitar solo in the final episode theme is so bizarre to me. why is it there?
ahh the raining hearts symbolizing crowleys vavoom plan!
crowley’s heavenly outfit not being white but “light grey”
the relief in aziraphale’s voice when crowley came back 😀
also him mumbling about the halo like he did with the sword 😭 but he sure loves to boast about the things he’s done right to crowley
aziraphale and crowley doing magic together has the power to set off alarm bells in heaven and they barely tried, they’re just in sync
saraqael was such a good addition to the cast.
crowley smiling at aziraphale going off on the angels and demons
“where beelzebub is, is my Heaven.” 🥹
the little knowing look after crowley mentions alpha centauri
the way they just interrupted michael’s speech by leaving 😭
i think that aziraphale was about to ask crowley to move in but that’s my opinion
the look the metatron gave crowley is so strange. i don’t like that
“JUST US. NOT YOU.”
“You’re not helping, angel.”
the softness in aziraphale’s voice when he talked about making crowley an angel again? how can you hate him! he thought he was doing the right thing!
also the miscommunication these two have is completely out of hand because crowley asked aziraphale if he said no and aziraphale hadn’t given an answer AT ALL to the metatron. the metatron told him to take his time. he went back to tell crowley the news first.
crowleys confession makes my stomach hurt. the way his voice broke when he said “we’ve spent our existence pretending that we aren’t.”. the way he had to force himself past his anxiety to tell aziraphale he wanted to spend eternity with him? fuck.
the way aziraphale tells crowley to come with him. like and through all of this they are losing each other, oh my god.
“i need you!” god aziraphale punch me in the face next time why don’t you?
i feel like in all this anger towards aziraphale a lot of people are ignoring that he put himself out there too. he was telling crowley he needed him just like crowley was
“no nightingales.” FUCK YOU GAIMAN
the way aziraphale touched his lips after. dear GOD. someone get michael sheen an emmy
seeing aziraphale struggle against his wanting to kiss crowley back and his fear and wanting him to come back to heaven further supports my internalized homophobia analogy
also even knowing the kiss was going to happen because of the spoiler it still didn’t quell my shock. nor did it ruin the scene, i think it actually surprised me more because it did not happen how i thought it would.
side note i saw some people saying they thought the kiss was going to be a cop out in some way. like a body swap or as a joke and i don’t really know why?
it just occurred to me that both aziraphale and crowley thought the other one was just doing that thing they do where they say they won’t help, or they’re on their own but they eventually come back not knowing that the other was completely set on these plans they had. this wasn’t like armageddon or saving gabriel.
the second coming…of jesus…
crowley cutting off “a nightingale sang in berkeley square”...i’m gonna jump
this being the ending for the next 3-4 years. oh.
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sleekswosobession · 3 months
Text
tears streaming down your face
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barça femeni x reader, lena oberdorf x reader
request: here
A/N: please tumblr gods, stop giving me sicknesses i write about in sickfics. i am TIRED.
also the the requester i changed it a lil bit - hope it makes you happy (do not ask how this would work, this is fiction. this does not make sense in any reality tbh)
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
As soon as you go down, you know what it is. The worst injury any footballer could imagine. Then, out of nowhere Lena Oberdorf (the defender marking you) can’t seem slow down and when she tries she trips over your good leg. Groaning as her knee hits the ground with a pop. Similar to yours.
Your faces are near each other, both silently empathising with each other when a rush of blaugrana swarms the area. Alexia sensing what your injury could be already.
“Is it?” She doesn’t want to say it, nobody ever wants to hear those letters.
“I think so, Ale I don’t want this please.” You sob, climbing into her lap.
“I know, I know. Deep breathes, you’ll get through this.” You do as told then you hear commotion to the right of you where Lena lays. You listen to the accented angry voices of Claudia and Patri.
“Ay, stop being dramatic. You literally tripped over her now you’re pretending to be hurt? Estúpida.”
“You are telling me you could not stop? Lies.”
As you’re about to tell them to stop, Wolfsburg players have shoved the spaniards away from their hurt teammate. Alex does the same with Lena as Alexia does to you.
Players around and above you are shoving each other and in your opinion it’s all too much. You’re overstimulated, in pain and all you want to do is cry. It seems Alexia notices this.
“Aye, Barça why don’t you be responsible and leave so that both medical teams can come over and do what’s needed for the players.” Her voice is her stern and the German captain agrees telling off her players as well.
When the crowd has gone, medical teams swarm and do the necessary on field tests, both ultimately asking for stretchers. Not a good sign.
You send a small sad smile to Obi, an understanding between you two. No bad blood or anything.
You part ways into seperate areas and get given the rundown. They suspect it’s the ACL, but scans will be needed to determine how bad it is and what type of surgery needs to be done.
You’re deflated, 9-10 months of recovery sounds horrific. They give you crutches, and put ice on your knee allowing you to watch the rest of the match in the stands. When you make it out, the young German is there as well, looking equally as tired.
“So, the three letters?” You ask, focusing on the match.
“Yeah, you?” You nod, sighing.
“It’s all apart of the game, it sucks that we have to miss so much though.”
“Yeah, it really does. Also before I forget, sorry. I didn’t mean to trip over you.”
“Hey, I know you didn’t. Maybe after our surgeries we could meet up sometime.” She stares at you.
“Would you come to Germany?”
“I’ve always loved Germany, it’s so nice there. So yes, I would.” Her eyes light up.
“So this hangout… is it like- a date orrr.” You laugh at her nervousness.
“Do you want it to be?”
“Yes.”
“Then it is, probably shouldn’t tell the teammates about this though. Not just yet, after nearly giving you another injury themselves.” You smile sadly at her, feeling guilty for your friends actions.
“Yeah, if I wasn’t in so much pain I probably would’ve yelled back. But you know I was also held down by a certain scary yet very nice woman.” You agree with that statement. Alexia is the same.
You both talk for the rest of the game and exchange numbers at the end with a promise to see each other soon.
- - - - -
You get confirmation of the rupture later that day, and told that in about a week you would go through surgery.
Alexia has essentially forced you to stay with her because she knows what it’s like and she knows the rabbit holes you could go in. She tries her hardest and you respect that.
She makes you come to training, not for you to watch them but for them to watch you. Jana stays with you in the gym working on her own recovery.
She makes jokes and makes the long week a bit easier, you’re also on your phone a lot. The others think it’s your way of distracting yourself… but it’s not particularly you that’s distracting yourself.
More like a certain Wolfsburg player.
Lena had been good, it was also confirmed for her and she had her surgery as soon as she was back in Germany.
Things were going well, and in 2 weeks there should be another game between your teams and in Germany. Which should be fun.
- - - - -
It’s the day after your ACL surgery, it went well and now you’re hobbling around sad, annoyed and in pain. Some of the team was at Alexia’s house trying to cheer you up but you didn’t even know what you wanted.
Out of nowhere Frido and Ingrid pull you up from the couch saying nothing other than.
“We’re taking her, bye!”
You follow them slowly into Frido’s car and sit in the backseat.
“What is it?” You ask the Scandi’s.
“Hmm don’t think we haven’t seen you messaging on your phone a lot. Do not forget we have also played at Wolfsburg.” Oh, they knew. Of course they did.
“So, tell us everything. Are you coming to Germany with us?” Ingrid asks after Fridolina.
“It was my plan, yes. Also, the thing with Lena is new. I just don’t want to mess up. I think my feelings are growing stronger so I want to do what’s right.”
“Ahh, young love.” The Norwegian says dramatically putting a hand to her chest.
“Ingrid didn’t you nearly go to jail for threatening a man trying to hit on your girlfriend.” Frido snickers at your comment.
“Frido, you are in love with a MAN. Please.” The silence is loud as you laugh at yourself.
“Kid I will murder you.” The blonde says.
“Nooo you’d have an angry German to deal with and their language is already angry enough. Then Ale would cook you.”
She hums in agreement, before conversation turns normal and light, filled with laughter.
- - - - -
You’re in the stadium waiting for the game to start, sitting next to Lena. Talk is small, about recovery and everything in between. It’s comforting to know that someone near you is also going through the same thing.
As the game progresses, so does your chatter. You make plans for afterwards, going to a small restaurant she liked.
By the end of the game, your hands are sealed together and as the final whistle blows, you kiss her cheek and walk to the field.
Maybe this journey for recovery won’t be so lonely.
—————————————————————————
i lost my first cricket match… this one girl can’t catch a ball and does nothing 💀 how is she on the team
also this won’t be a 2 parter because i have no motivation ❤️
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hellsenthero · 3 months
Text
A Brothers Mate
Azriel X FemReader X Cassian
You knew there was more between Azriel and Cassian, despite others' opinions of the two. You were okay with that, their relationship, but seeing your mate's happy without you was killing you.
Warnings/Themes: Smut, Language, (2.7K Words.)
MASTERLIST
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You knew the Illyrians were closer than they let on. Others said that the two were raised as brothers, and that may be true, but the sentiment of brotherhood had clearly changed over the centuries. Brothers didn’t look at each other like that.
Azriel leaded against the wall, arm crossed over his chest, a few of his shadows gently swirling around him. Rhys and Mor were talking about some wine and who'd drank more of it the night before. Cassian was sitting comfortably in an armchair adjacent to Mor. One hand hung limp over the side, the other clasped around a glass of amber liquid. You sat on the couch, beside Rhys, listening to the heated debate. You listened, but your gaze was focused on the Shadowsinger and the War Lord. It was small, casual–the glances they shared, but you didn't fail to notice the rosy tint to Cassian’s cheeks or the shy little uptilt of Azriel’s lips.
It was sweet to see the love the two shared. You supported it, you wanted the best for them, but Mother above, it was heartbreaking. It was heartbreaking because you knew they didn't feel the same about you.
“Well,” you drawled, catching the attention of everyone in the room. “I'd hate to cut this riveting debate short, but I'm headed home.” You stood from your seat with a stretch and a small smile. “And it was me, by the way, that drank all the wine.” Mor and Rhys shot daggers at you with their eyes as Cassian let out a boisterous laugh.
“Should've known,” he said with a knowing look your way.
“Night all,” you said as you grabbed your things before leaving out the front door.
The air was crisp. You could smell the beginning of autumn in the air, a soft, smokey undertone that was pleasant to your senses. Your steps echoed in the night as you strolled along the paved pathways of the city. You didn't make it far before a gust of shadow swept wind brushed past you, tickling the tips of your ears.
“You don't have to walk me home.” You told the shadowsinger.
“I want to,” came Azriel's deep reply as he materialized by your side.
“I thought you'd be with Cassian right about now.” Another gust of wind picked up before a second voice answered you.
“Who says he isn't?”
You rolled your eyes at the two over protective illyrians that walked on either side of you. “Hello, Cassian.”
“Hello, sweets,”
“So you two bats are that determined to walk me home?”
“Well,” Cassian begun, nudging his shoulder against your side. “You left too soon sweets, we just wanna spend time together.”
You let out a small laugh. “Right.”
Azriel stopped you with a hand to your shoulder, his grasp was firm, but gentle.
“He's right, Y/N.”
You stepped forward and turned around to face the two males. In the low moonlight they looked even more mysterious and handsome than ever. Their wings appeared darker, more intimidating as they rose above them. You wanted to lean forward and touch the leathery membrane of their wings. You wanted to watch them shudder with pleasure from your touch, listen to their heavy breathing and deep moans. You wanted to taste them, drink their…
You breathed out and took another step back. Your wants didn't matter, the males before you weren't yours.
“You two can move on to whatever you had planned for tonight. I'll tell the others you walked me home and we had a late nightcap, if they want to know why the two of you didn't return right away.” The two males shared a look between themselves and you took that as your cue to continue on your way. You only got a few feet down the street before the males were at your side once more.
“You're more observant than you let on.” Cassian said softly.
“I'm more surprised the others haven't figured it out.” You answered.
“We've been careful. We didn't want them to know anything before you.” Azriel replied.
That comment had you pausing. “Why?”
Cassian ruffled his wings uneasily.
“Isn't it obvious?”
You wanted to believe it, wanted to believe that they felt the same about you than you did them, but you couldn't, wouldn't let yourself entertain the thought.
“No,” you said softly. You knew Cassian and Azriel could hear it for the lie it was.
Azriel stepped forward, close enough that you had to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. “Try again.” He ordered.
You swallowed. “Yes,” you breathed.
“Say it,” Cassian begged. His signature smirk was back on his face.
“I can't,” you admitted.
“C'mon sweets, say it.”
You paused, taking the moment to cherish what was possibly the last moment of your relationship with the males before you, because if you were wrong… Cauldron, if you were wrong, you think you might break. “Because,” you began, “I'm your mate.”
The males before you smiled, even Azriel, who was always very careful with hiding his emotions.
“There you go,” Azriel said, “we've been waiting for you to admit it.”
“How long have you known?” You asked.
“Long enough,” Cassian groaned. “We thought you might say something, that you felt how we did-”
“I do.” You admitted.
“Good,” Cassian breathed. “Then let’s continue home, shall we?” Cassian swept his hand out before him, motioning to continue onwards to your little apartment in the city.
The silence that followed the three of you through the night was comfortable, more comfortable than it perhaps had ever been, now that things were out in the open.
“You don’t mind sharing?” You blurted, disrupting the silence.
Cassian chuckled. “No. Do you?”
“No,” you answered truthfully.
“This bond,” Azriel began softly, “goes three ways, Y/N. It’s not a thread that branches off between us, it’s a continuous circle.”
“A continuous circle,” you murmured. It made sense, the way they looked at each other along with the way the males spoke to you. This wasn’t just some ill fated love triangle, it was the reality you had hoped it would be.
“The snake that eats its own tail.” Cassian said as he threw his arm over your shoulder.
“We don’t want to force you to accept anything you’re not comfortable with.”
“I know.” You answered as you finally reached the front door of your apartment. You stopped on your front steps, pausing for a moment before facing the males just a few steps behind you. “Do you want to come in?”
Their grins were answer enough.
The War Lord and the Spymaster had envisioned this moment many times, many ways, but living it out was something entirely different.
You led them to the living room, waving a hand to the black couch that sat against the far wall. As the males took a seat you busied yourself at the bar cart. “Drink?” You asked, already pouring out a helping for yourself.
“Yes, please.” The males answered in unison.
You made quick work of getting their drinks, pouring each a generous hand of amber liquid before facing them. “When did it click for you?” You asked.
Cassian and Azriel shared a look amongst themselves before looking back at you. “Do you-” Cassian cut himself off as you straddled his lap. His breathing stuttered as Azriel adjusted himself beside the two of you. “Do you remember that party Mor threw a few months ago?”
“Yes.”
“Well,” Azriel took over for Cassian. “It clicked for both of us that night.” Your brows rose in surprise. Up until now, you had thought the two males had separate experiences with the bond.
Azriel chuckled at your look of surprise. He layed a scarred hand on your leg before continuing on and you found yourself wishing he'd trail it up higher, closer to where you needed him.
“It was when we were dancing.” Cassian admitted. “Remember when I stumbled and stepped on your toes?”
“Yeah,” you chuckled at the memory. The War Lord who was usually so balanced on his feet, stumbling on the dance floor to the point of crushing your toes. “I recall being quite upset with you for nearly breaking my toes.”
“Yes well, I was stumbling like a fool because the bond had just snapped for me.”
“I suppose in that case I can forgive you.” You purred, leaning in closer to the male. Cassian set his glass down in favour of holding onto your hips. “And you?” You asked, turning to face Azriel.
“It was when the two of you approached me at the bar that it snapped,” Azriel paused for a brief moment. “For the both of you.”
You debated asking your next question, but figured that no matter the answer, you wouldn't mind. “Have you two…”
“Fucked?” Cassian finished for you boldly.
“Very eloquent, Cas.” Azriel muttered.
“I mean, I figured you have.” You continued. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.”
The males shared a look before Azriel answered. “No, we haven’t.”
“We wanted to wait for you, to at least tell you about our feelings before anything happened.” Cassian supplied.
You paused, a slow, knowing smile creeping up on your face. “You romantic fucking bastards.” The males laughed–Azriel’s hand traveled further up your leg. He was so, so close to where you wanted him. “Go higher, Shadowsinger.”
The Shadowsinger complied.
“Mother above the two of you are making me fucking hard.” Cassian groaned.
“Join in.” You demanded as you ground your hips down on his hardening length. Cassian laid one hand on top of Azriels own, right on your hip. The other hand raised to the side of your breast, caressing you over your clothing as he leaned in and began kissing up your neck.
You tilted your head to the side, giving the War Lord better access to your neck as Azriel dipped his fingers under the band of your underwear. His scar covered hand teased your slit, sliding through your wetness to find your bundle of nerves.
“Yes!” You gasped in pleasure as Azriel toyed with you.
Azriel’s warm breath ghosted over you as he chuckled. “So wet.” He murmured.
“Let me taste.” Cassian ordered.
Azriel brought his hand away from your heat and over to Cassian's open mouth. Cassian hummed around Azriels two fingers. If the moment weren’t so intimate, you would ask Feyre to paint a picture of the look in Cassian’s eyes as he licked your juices off of the Shadowsingers fingers. “My turn.” Azriel said. You expected him to dip his fingers back down into your core. Instead, Azriel pulled his fingers free from Cassian’s mouth and leaned in, kissing him.
That, was what you would get Feyre to paint if you could. The two males clung onto you as they devoured each other. Cassian’s hips shifted up, grinding into your core. “He likes it, Az.”
Azriel pulled away with a chuckle. “Of course he does.” The Shadowsingers hazel eyes met your own. “I think it’s time we move this to the bedroom.”
You didn’t take your time going to the bedroom. The three of you were a rushed mess of scattered clothes, heavy breathing and tangled limbs by the time you found yourself spread out on your sheets. “Need you,” you panted. The males in the room knew it wasn’t directed at anyone in particular.
“Need this?” Azriel asked as he slid two of his fingers inside of you.
“Fuck,” you gasped.
“That’s not an answer, sweets.” Cassian said. The War Lord was kneeling beside you, tugging at his cock as he watched Azriel pleasure you.
“Yes,” you answered. “I need this, please, don’t stop.”
“I don’t plan on it.” Azriel answered before he leaned over you. The hand that wasn’t inside you gently grabbed hold of your throat, securing you to the bed as he kissed you. His shadows caressed your body. Cool, dark tendrils that were both an extension of him and their own being entirely. Cassian’s free hand followed the shadows path along you body, bringing warmth back into your body after the shadows cool touches.
“I need more.” You demanded from the males above you. Cassian and Azriel shared a look, both pausing in their movements.
“Who do you want first?” Azriel asked.
You paused, thinking. “You,” you answered back to the Shadowsinger.
Azriel crept off your body and stood at the end of the bed. “As you wish.” He rasped as he shucked his clothing off. With each layer that fell to the floor you wanted to devour the male more and more.
You sat up in interest as Cassian moved away from your side and over to Azriel, lowering himself to his knees. “Gotta make sure you’re ready too.” Cassian said before taking Azriels length into his open mouth. You gasped at the sight of the Spymasters scarred hand clutching onto the other males hair, pulling at his locks as he fucked himself into his mouth. You couldn’t help but find the sight of Cassian on his knees to be natural. Alluring, and natural. With a gasp and a line of saliva, Cassian pulled himself off of Azriel once he deemed him ready. “Go fuck our girl.” He ordered.
And by the Caldron, did Azriel listen.
“Fuck!” You cried out as Azriel thrust relentlessly into you.
“You feel so good.” Azriel breathed.
“So, so good,” you babbled.
“Cas, help her out.” Azriel ordered.
Without removing himself from your breasts, Cassian reached a hand down and circled your bundle of nerves.
“Yes!” You screeched. Your climax came hurtling through you at the hands of your mates and it was unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Azriel reached his end along with you, spilling himself into you with heavy breathes. Cassian ran his hands along both of your bodies with light kisses and whispered words of affection.
“Do you have enough energy to ride Cas?” Azriel asked you with a wicked grin.
“Absolutely.”
Azriel pulled himself free from you with a groan, his spend slipping out after him. Cassian was ready and waiting for you at your side, laying flat on his back. As you prepared to sink down on his length Cassian stopped you with a firm grip around the waist and a light chuckle. “Not my cock, Y/N. I want you to ride my face.” He said as he guided you to sit above him. You knew that if Azriel hadn’t just pulled an orgasm from you then Cassian’s words alone would have.
“Cas,” you gasped as he sat you right where he wanted you.
“Perfect,” Cassian murmured before licking up your core.
The War Lords mouth was absolutely sinful against your already abused core. Azriels shadows wrapped around you, holding you in place for Cassian to devour and Azriel to tease with his mouth and hands. Cassian slurped, sucked, licked and played with every part of you as you sat above him, fucking his face.
“I’m close,” you warned the males. Whether it was minutes or hours after your first orgasm, you couldn’t tell, all you knew was that you had been filled with pleasure for longer than you could contain. “Cas!” You cried. “I’m-close! I, I…” you broke off in a moan as you came over your mates face.
Behind you, Azriel fisted Cassian to completion, working him through his own climax with his hand.
After a few deep breaths you slid off of Cassian and into the sheets beside him, throwing an arm over his naked torso as Azriel stood and made his way to your bathroom. The Spymaster was gone for less than a minute before he returned with a damp cloth and cleaned the two of you up, ridding of it somewhere else in your room before sliding into bed with the two of you.
—-
It was later in the night, or perhaps early morning, that you broke the silence between yourself and your mates. “Tell Rhys you can’t go on any missions for a while.” You said to the males that laid on either side of you.
“Why?” Azriel asked.
“Because,” you admitted, “in the morning I plan on making the two of you breakfast.”
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goingmerryfics · 1 month
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Arguments w/ Shanks, Buggy, & Mihawk
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Content: Gender Neutral reader, no NSFW. Maybe some slightly angsty stuff? Not really though.
Shanks
Arguing with him is either exhausting or it’s pointless, there’s never an in-between
Shanks doesn’t really take most arguments seriously because they’re either started by something extremely unimportant or he’s already made his decision and he’s not going to back down on his opinion
Pointless, because he’s not going to change his mind and he’s laughing at you while you’re trying to talk to him
“You’re so cute when you’re angry.”
Yup. Pointless. It’ll just make you more angry and him more entertained
The exhausting arguments are when he’s actually serious- and while he’s not mad at you, he’s mad that you can’t see his reasonings for doing what he’s doing
Especially when it comes to keeping you safe
Shanks won’t back down and it’s impossible to change his mind while he’s this pissed off, so it’s always best to just separate and come back later to talk it out when you’re both calm
While you do what you need to do in order to relax, Shanks festers in his anger and reflects on the things that were said between the two of you. His crewmates try to cheer him up- they offer him booze, they crack jokes, but he’s not in the mood for either and everyone is concerned
Truthfully, he’s worried. While he’s still not willing to change his mind, he doesn’t want to lose the relationship you two have worked so hard to build and maintain
He gets up out of his seat 3 times to pace around, mind racing back and forth on if he should go talk to you, and then convincing himself that it’s best to wait for you to emerge first so he knows you’re ready to talk
But he grows tired of waiting, and does actually end up coming to your shared room to resolve the issue
You’re still steaming just a bit. Your arms are crossed over your chest, and you don’t look up when he enters. You know it’s him, because a few others on his crew have already come to check on you, and you’d asked them politely to leave you be. But you don’t protest when he comes to sit beside you
He doesn’t touch you
It’s painfully silent for a while
Then he finally speaks up and breaks the tension
“I’m sorry. That got a little more heated than I wanted it to.”
You peek up at him just a bit. He notices how red your face is, and a strike of fear shoots through him at the thought of possibly having made you cry and then left you on your own for hours
He stretches out his hand, offering it to you to hold, and you shift in your position to take it
He goes into a rant on how much you mean to him and how he’s only doing what he has to do to keep you and the rest of the crew safe
“Because I love you. You know that, don’t you?”
You do
You also know that no matter how many times you two get upset with each other, you’ll always find your way back into his arms
Buggy
Arguing with him would come often, but the content of the arguments is what matters here
Only for the reason that Buggy is adamant about being correct in every situation, even when he is not and knows it
Everyone knows it’s best to just simply let him believe his delusions and let the natural consequences come through
But this guy seriously has weirdly good luck, and somehow all his delusions seem to come true for him in one way or another
Half of the time it’s just funny watching him be completely wrong about a subject, other times it’s a little infuriating
Arguments don’t last long between the two of you, though
Buggy craves attention, and attention from his favorite person is a must. It’s basically a necessity of life
Food, water, shelter, you. Not in that order, though
He realizes too late through his incessant rambling and gloating that he’s said something that hurt your feelings and immediately starts to backpedal
“Wait, wait, wait! That’s not what I meant! What I meant to say was-”
He’s red in the face, almost so much so as his nose
He hates to admit it, but you look really good glaring down at him like that as he tries to save his own skin
He clams up, sweating. Unsure of himself. Not sure what he was even saying a second ago
As much as you need time alone to chill out, he can’t seem to leave you be. It’s scary for him, seeing your usually smiling face so serious
He takes a seat outside of your room, and then breaks into pieces no, literally while he waits for you to emerge again
It takes you a few hours, but he’s there the whole time. His feet are pacing around, his head is whining, cheek on the floor. His hands are tapping and picking at the dirt in the wood, but every part of him lights up when he sees you again
“Aha! I see you finally caved. Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?”
You pause, and then move to go back inside before he yelps and his hands grab at your ankles. His parts come back together again, using the rest of his body to hold you in place
“Wait! I’m sorry! Please don’t go back!”
He shouts it all in a rush. He’s crying, and there’s snot running down his nose
He looks like a damn mess
It kind of makes you laugh at how desperate he is for you
he pouts up at you and you cave
He basically crawls up your body to hug you. You hug him back, petting his hair and waiting for him to relax, sitting right there in the doorway of your room. People pause as they pass, but a sharp look from you stops them from staying for very long
Mihawk
If Mihawk is actually worked up enough to argue with you, there’s a good reason for it
Usually he makes his point and that’s that. No other words exchanged, nothing more than a slight glance towards you
Mihawk is an introvert, and he gets exhausted from others very easily. He’s not trying to be rude or dismissive towards you when he does this, but that is how it comes off sometimes
He’ll turn his attention back to his book because after he’s said what he wanted to, he figures everything is fine. He understands his logic, why wouldn’t you?
But you, like a lot of people that aren’t Mihawk, are more emotional than he is
Your silence isn’t acceptance, it’s hurt
Only when you get up to leave the room does the thought cross his mind that maybe what he’d said didn’t come off correctly, and you might have just been insulted. But he figures you would come tell him if that were the case, so all is well and he returns to his book
This could go forever, really. Until he notices that you’re giving him the cold shoulder, and then he would stop whatever he was doing- even if he were in another room at the time of realization -and find you to clear things up right away
“Darling, we need to talk right away.”
Straight to the point. He doesn’t really ask you if you want to talk, because he knows if he doesn’t at least make an attempt at this it will haunt him like Perona’s ghosts all night
The thing about Mihawk that not many people know is that he’s got this cool, collected, silent aura about him because he simply does not have the energy to play nice with everyone
So when he’s just arrived home from a Warlord meeting, or somewhere that he was obligated to be present for, all he wants is time to himself to recharge
Having a relationship and balancing this need was something he was still learning
But he loves you so much and the thought of upsetting you over a misunderstanding gnawed at him and gave him massive amounts of anxiety and uncomfortability
He’s not this untouchable guy that everyone thinks he is. You’ve seen this; he laughs and cries like everyone else does
And you understand him. He couldn’t ask for someone better than you are
If you’re willing to, he’ll take your hands and kiss your knuckles.
“I apologize for my behavior. I should have given my words a second thought before I spoke them out loud. What can I do to make this up to you?”
It’s an easy thing to answer- it’s all you wanted since he’d returned, why you kept invading his space before he was ready to emerge and what lead up to the situation in the first place
You tell him you want him. His attention, to be wrapped in his arms. You just want to spend time with him, even if that’s in silence
He can work with that
He presses a kiss to your forehead and makes you promise that you’ll tell him if he ever says or does anything to upset you again. He wants to communicate, not lose out on precious time with you over something small
He goes above and beyond, though. He makes up a very romantic candlelit dinner that night for the both of you to share and even if it’s a very quiet dinner, (minus the music playing softly in the background) it’s perfect
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very-normal-abt-this · 6 months
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I want talk about how much love was nonverbally expressed *after* their last conversation in S2 Finale. Yes, you heard right. AFTER.
Sure, they ended the conversation completely pissed at each other. Broken hearted. But, like in any solid relationship, they don't hold grudges. Only a few short moments later, all the anger is gone from Aziraphale's face, and the only emotions left are: love, longing, fear, regret. He can barely pay attention to Metatron, because he keeps looking out the window at Crowley. I think I counted 7 times of him turning his head to look. And of course, he is close to changing his mind several times. (BTW, I would *kill* to know what thoughts were going through his mind right before he committed to leaving, right before he said "nothing at all" with that fake smile)
And Crowley. Most humans, when they feel they've been rejected and/or abandoned - they slam the door and they leave in a huff! They don't look back, they get in their car, and drive away as fast they can, possibly with a middle finger pointed in the direction of the offending party. (Unless they're the type of person who would stand by the door, cry and beg them to stay, but obviously that behavior could never be exhibited by Crowley).
But Crowley does not leave. He does not even try to hide in his car. He stands there, intentionally on display, waiting and watching. Why? Because either A) He is not viewing this as a rejection and abandonment, but as a [huge] difference of opinion, so he is not reacting like someone who has just been rejected. Or B) he IS viewing it as rejection, but he loves Aziraphale so much that his main priority is still to make sure that the Angel is safe, regardless of their current relationship status. His love for Aziraphale is literally unconditional. Crowley wants to watch him walk into that elevator with his own eyes, and make sure that he's not doing so under duress. Or there is option C) He is standing there defiantly, to communicate his disapproval and disbelief at what Aziraphale is doing, like "I can't believe you're actually doing this, I have to see this shit with my own eyes to believe it." Or option D) He is hoping to influence Aziraphale to change his mind, because he knows that its incredibly hard for Aziraphale to leave him. Standing there to send a message of "I'm still here. Are you really sure you are okay with being separated?" Or maybe even E) A small part of him wondered if he (Crowley) might change his own mind about going, once he saw Aziraphale actually walking toward the elevator, once he saw that it's actually happening.
I don't think it's option C because of Crowley's facial expression and body language after Aziraphale gets in the elevator. I don't see any anger, frustration, disgust, or judgment there. All I see is...utter despondency, numbness, melancholy, hopelessness. So, I'm thinking its a combination of reasons A, B, and D. Maybe a little E.
And, I wondered the same about Aziraphale. As he is walking to the elevator, he is not acting as someone who is angry at their significant other. I imagine that a lot of people who feel angry after a fight, and feel their partner is completely in the wrong - they would walk into that elevator without looking back at the offending party. They might put on the happiest face and try to hide all traces of negative emotions, just to "stick it to them." But Aziraphale does look back at Crowley. And, this last nonverbal communication with his partner is also very intentional; he wants Crowley to know that he is looking at him on purpose (just as Crowley's behavior of standing by the Bentley and watching him leave is very intentional). Aziraphale stops and makes eye contact with Crowley, right before he walks into the elevator. Just as Crowley, he is trying to send a message with that pause and look. What message? A) "I can't believe you're not coming with me, I'm hurt and disappointed in you." B) "I want you to know that it's very hard for me to do this, I'm torn about it, and I'm thinking about you." C) "I just found out very bad news and you're in danger." Or option D) "I just found out very bad news and I'm definitely going to need your help. I'll be back."
My opinion is that its a combo of B, C, and D. I do not think its A, based on Aziraphale's behavior and emotions right after Crowley walked out.
So, to summarize the point I am making - despite their deficits in communicating with words, Aziraphale and Crowley continue communicating their feelings nonverbally. They remain committed to each other, even in the face of the biggest rift they've ever experienced in their relationship. Their behavior shows that their first priority in the relationship is not "to be right" or "to win the argument." Their priorities are - taking care of each other. Letting each other know that, "no matter what happens, I am here, and I'm thinking about you."
Thanks for reading! please leave a comment.
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talesofesther · 7 months
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make it taste like love
Loki x Reader
Summary: You felt him before you even met him. And despite the pain he carried around, his soul was one of the most beautiful you'd ever seen.
A/N: A spur-of-the-moment idea that I simply couldn't ignore. I really hope you guys enjoy it, and yes I'm working on part two of my series with Loki as well. <3
Word count: 6k
Masterlist
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The battle had left its mark on everyone, both physically and mentally. All the lives that were lost wouldn't be brought back. But everyone took solace in the fact that Thanos and his army were no longer a threat. And now, it was a time for rebuilding.
Wakanda's grassland was a battlefield. Bodies of both friend and foe lay scattered on the ground. The mourning loomed heavy in the air, you could feel it weighing down on your chest, your throat, and lungs. It was suffocating, prickling into your skin like needles. Yet you still walked, your boots crushing the grass underneath while you avoided stepping on stretched arms and legs, you needed to make sure no one else remained left behind.
A few feet away, the mad titan who once threatened the entire universe lay lifeless on the ground, his head disconnected from his body. For him, you felt no pity.
King T'Challa was both happy and sad to see you and the others leave. Happy, because it meant the end of a war; sad, because of having to say farewell to dear friends. But you, Steve, Natasha, and Banner were needed back in town, back at the Avengers compound; to welcome Tony back on earth, and because Thanos' attack had reverberated in many other places. It seemed like the Avengers were back in the game.
─── ·❆· ───
This morning was a gloomy one. Grey skies peeked behind your curtains in the early hours of the day, maybe it would rain soon. It's been two weeks since the battle, and you were glad to see that most people were recovering; each in their own way, but recovering nonetheless.
You were already up when the clock hit 7:30 AM, holding a warm cup of coffee between your hands, and staring out into the compound's driveway and past the treeline through the big windows of the kitchen. Today would be the day that Thor came back, he'd been helping with the settling of his people in New Asgard until now, but you've heard about him not wanting to be king anymore. You were happy for him, you never did think that a ruler's life suited him anyway—and you missed your friend.
"He gets one chance, Rogers. One chance and that's it." Tony's voice suddenly caught your attention as he stepped into the kitchen, you turned your back to the window so you could watch as your resident Iron Man poured himself a cup of coffee without looking at his mug. Steve was right beside him, his hands on his hips as he sighed quietly, already all too used to Tony's moods.
"Yes, one chance, he proved himself enough by helping us fight against Thanos, I suppose we owe him the benefit of the doubt," Steve agreed, still holding his voice calm.
With a smirk on your lips, you approached your teammates. "What's going on, guys?" You leaned on the kitchen island, taking a sip of your coffee.
Tony ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his expression less than pleased as he took a sip of his own coffee before saying; "point break is bringing his beloved brother to our home." He shrugged, and said in a quieter tone, "Says he changed or something."
"Loki will be staying with us?" You raised an eyebrow. The attack on New York happened before you joined the team, but you were familiar enough with it to be wary of Thor's brother, even if Thor did speak more nicely of him recently. Still, you had never actually met Loki to form your own opinion.
"That's… to be decided," Tony grumbled, shooting a glance toward Steve. "But yes, pretty much. And, by the way, Strange wasn't happy about having reindeer games back in the city either."
"Wow, you guys finally agree on something," you snickered.
Tony mouthed a 'don't' to you, before Steve said; "Strange knows we'll handle it if anything happens, but Thor vouches for him, so…"
You gave Steve a soft smile, and as much as you understood Tony's wariness, you agreed with the Captain. Loki didn't have the best of pasts with the City, but his help in the recent battle was one of many game-changers. He deserved a second chance.
Strangely enough, you found yourself excited to meet the God of Mischief. It was in your nature to analyze people, watch them from afar, and learn about the things they'd rather not say out loud. And someone like Loki, who had both once tried to take over your planet and now helped in saving it, was bound to raise some curiosity.
No more than an hour passed before you heard Thor's strong voice all the way from the living room. A small smile instantly came to your lips as you discarded your book, got up from the couch, and put on your slippers, rushing to the main doors to greet him.
Before you could turn the last corner, however, you came to an abrupt halt. Your breath got caught up in your throat and you had to lean back on the wall for support. Clutching the fabric of your shirt right above your heart, you were glad that this particular hallway was currently empty.
You could hear Thor's voice just around the corner, Tony was there too, but their words were faint and far away. Your vision was suddenly a little blurry, and underneath your palm you could feel your heart beating frantically.
See, this was nothing that hadn't happened before, after all, you are an empath. But a feeling this heavy rarely comes unannounced, unwanted. It briefly reminded you of when you first discovered your power, when you had no control and could pick up on pain, anger, joy, and pleasure that were not your own even if you didn't want to. Yet now, after years of living with it, you had learned to dose your perception of the feelings around you; now, when you weren't willingly focusing, other people's emotions felt more like a gentle whisper, a gush of chilly wind on your skin—something you were able to ignore if you wanted to.
But this overwhelming sadness; this emptiness, and loss, and pain; it came to you with such force that you were not able to block out. Seconds felt like hours, until the surprise of the new feeling passed and you took back control. Whispers of it remained, lurking in your stomach and in the back of your throat, but with a bit of extra focus, you were able to handle it.
And once your mind was finally clear again, it hit you. Who did you catch these feelings from?
You took a step around the corner cautiously, hands buried in your pockets as your eyes roamed your surroundings. There was no one around besides Tony, Thor, and Loki.
You knew it right away. You were familiar with the emotions radiating from Tony and Thor; but him, the raven-haired trickster, he was new, and if you didn't feel empathy for him before, you did now.
Loki held himself immaculately, a straight posture and a serene expression on his face. You had no idea how he did it, how he was able to hold all of those feelings in and still look so well put together; because one glance into his soul and you already felt like crying.
There was a light drizzle falling outside, maybe that's why Loki's black blazer seemed to be shining under the bright lights of the entrance hall. His eyes—bright and ocean-green—were settled on you; the realization got you feeling hyperaware of each movement you made. Even his gaze was heavy.
Thor's booming voice calling your name captured your attention then, he had a big smile on his face and before you knew it he already had your feet off the floor as he held you in a hug.
You laughed against his shoulder, hugging him back just as tight and telling him all about how much you missed him. Still, when you let go, your eyes found Loki's again, he hadn't stopped looking at you once.
─── ·❆· ───
The opinions about Loki's presence in the compound were mixed, but most of your teammates seemed fine with it; truth be told, no one paid much attention to him. As you'd expected, Loki's room was on your floor, because that's where Thor stayed too; as well as Tony, Natasha, and Yelena.
It's been a few days since his arrival, yet you haven't had the opportunity to properly speak with him, alone. But you've been feeling him a lot. Whether it was you subconsciously focusing on him more, or something else, it seemed like your body was more in tune and connected with his than you've ever been with anyone else. You picked up on a few of his emotions even if you weren't actively trying to; you felt his bouts of uneasiness when someone would stare at him for too long, you felt his gentle serenity whenever he'd sit near the windows to read a book, you felt his sparks of joy when people greeted him with a good morning or asked if he'd want coffee; but most of all, you still felt that lingering sadness that followed him everywhere he went, a weight he seemed to be all too used to having around.
In some ways, you felt as if you were invading his privacy, and that bothered you. During the day you tried to keep your mind as busy as you could to keep yourself from feeling him; in the late hours of the night though, when you were trying to sleep, there wasn't much you could do.
You have been tossing and turning in bed for probably about two hours now, drifting in and out of sleep. The crescent moon just outside your window seemed to be taunting you, amused with your misfortune. You scoffed as you glared at the natural satellite—great, now you were arguing with the cosmos.
Loki was having a nightmare. You could tell by the rapid beating of his heart and the cold sweat running down his forehead—your abilities went way beyond simply feeling other people's emotions, but sometimes you wished they wouldn't. It's not the first time that you've felt Loki's restless sleep in the short time he's been here. Your heart ached for him; it got you wanting to alleviate his pain.
But you couldn't do that, so you got up from your bed, put on your fluffy slippers, and made a beeline for the kitchen. The air outside was chilly, biting at your warm skin and making you shiver. At this hour of the night, the compound was completely dark and quiet, a big contrast to how it was when the sun was up. You asked Friday to turn on one of the lights in the kitchen, giving the space a dim-lit look as the single light bled into the adjacent living room.
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, humming the lyrics of the song stuck in your head as you reached for the upper cabinet to grab a mug so you could make yourself some tea. When you turned around again though, a gasp escaped your mouth and you nearly dropped the mug you were holding. You cursed quietly under your breath, placing a hand over your heart; if you weren't fully awake before, you sure were now. "You scared me," you muttered, trying a small smile.
The reason for your lack of sleep stood before you, with dark green slippers that matched his button-up pajama shirt, and his hair the messier you've ever seen it be. "Sorry, it was not my intention," Loki smirked back at you.
It hit you that this was finally the first time you were alone with him, and you'd been caught off guard. You tapped your mug, opening your lips but no words came out. Loki's eyes remained on you, unwavering, yet his gaze was so… soft, gentle even; his eyebrows weren't creased and he patiently waited for you with his hands in the pockets of his checkered pajama pants. He didn't look like the god you usually saw roaming the halls during the day.
"It's alright. I was just making tea," you said finally, gesturing to your mug, "would you like me to make one for you too?"
Loki's surprise at your offer was so great that you felt it in your bones. What was he expecting you to do?
His lips parted only slightly and he straightened his posture before saying; "I would- yes, I would like that."
You couldn't help the full smile that came to your lips and crinkled the side of your eyes, "great, sit down, it'll be ready in just a moment."
The warm mug between your hands warmed up your skin. It felt nice, sitting like this with Loki; in a quiet kitchen with only you and him, and just the lonely light to your left softly highlighting his features in front of you. It was a peaceful silence, and you couldn't help but check if he felt it too.
The rhythm of his heart was calm, his soul felt light and at ease; not completely, but the most you've ever felt from him.
"Why are you here?" His sultry voice snapped you back to reality.
"Uh- I'm sorry?" You frowned.
"Why are you here, if I may ask?" Loki tilted his head amusedly, his fingers tracing the brim of his mug. "Thor mentioned you had… abilities, but he never specified what they are."
Now it was your turn to be surprised by his curiosity for you. "Well, to put it simply, I'm an empath," you told him.
Loki blinked, once, twice, at your response. He looked at you for a moment before inquiring further; "and to put it completely?"
You smirked then, folding your arms over the table. "I can feel people's emotions, if I want to; their anger, happiness, hesitation, fear. But I can also feel their heartbeats, the blood cursing through their bodies. I can tell when they're lying or telling the truth, if they're tired or hurt. And sometimes, I can influence those emotions," you paused, hesitating for a beat, "bring fear, or… take away pain."
Loki grew tense after learning of what you could do. To be fair, most people did at first, you were used to it. Be he felt different, his heartbeat sped up and stayed that way. He'd put his guard up, and it brought a pang of hurt to your chest.
"Are you always feeling everything then?" He narrowed his eyes.
"Gods, no," you breathed, "at first I did, and it was awful. But with time, I learned to control it." You tried smiling at him, but his eyes were downcast, focused on his mug.
You bit your lower lip in nervousness. Looking past Loki and out the window, you could see the first signs of the sunrise peeking over the horizon, dark skies turning a soft lilac and blue; you'd been here longer than you realized.
When Loki glanced up at you again, his bright eyes still held sparks of that same softness from earlier. He pursed his lips in a smile; "thank you for the tea." And with that, he got up and left, leaving you in the company of the first birds who always sang in the mornings.
─── ·❆· ───
You made Loki nervous. It wasn't a bad kind of nervous, it was the kind that sped up his heart and made his cold hands feel clammy.
Out of everyone in the compound, you were the kindest. You'd always shoot him a smile whenever you'd pass by each other in the hallways; you'd always save a seat for him at the table; you always respected his silence whenever you came into the library and caught him reading his book, saying a quiet hello and nothing more, just sitting on one of the armchairs with your own book and allowing him to enjoy his moment, and more recently, your presence too.
When he'd finally learned of your abilities, he got apprehensive, worried even; that you'd pick up on whatever it was that he felt when he was near you, and it would drive you away.
So far, it hasn't happened yet.
The sun was out today, and with it, so was everyone else. In the spacious backyard of the compound, Steve was in charge of the barbecue, and Tony was in charge of the drinks. Natasha had sunglasses covering her eyes while she and Clint bickered over a game of cards; Yelena was sitting beside her sister at the lunch table, however, she seemed to be on Clint's side of the argument. Thor and Banner were laughing together as they made fun of Steve's cooking skills, who tried to defend himself by saying he wasn't actually done yet. Tony looked like he was trying to convince Bucky to drink a dubious-looking beverage, the latter didn't seem too keen on it.
And Loki watched them from afar, from the living room window of his floor. Thor had asked that he join them downstairs, saying something about how he should start trying to fit in and mingle, instead of just existing in the others' presence. Making friends wasn't Loki's forte; as much as he'd fight not to admit it, he was still working up the courage.
With a long sigh, Loki turned around and made his way to the place where he'd been spending most of his free time.
The compound's library was quite huge. One of the few rooms in the whole facility that had warm colors painting the walls and lacked the modern look; tall wooden shelves held thousands of books, a soft beige carpet covered the floor, and there were armchairs and sofas scattered in corners and in-between shelves creating comfortable, isolated nooks for reading. Loki's favorite spot was a worn armchair that stood near one of the big windows, it was surrounded by books that most people didn't read anymore, and the window itself overlooked the treeline in which the sun hid behind at the end of every day; sometimes as he sat there to read, it reminded him of his room back in Asgard.
Loki walked brushing his fingers over the spine of the old books, watching as dust particles danced in the sunlight. But as he rounded the shelf that led to his spot, he abruptly stopped in his tracks, feet glued to the carpet.
You sat cross-legged on the worn armchair, with a thick book lying in your lap that held all of your attention; the sun was shining right behind you, creating a halo above your head and bathing the strands of your hair in golden. You looked like something out of his favorite tale, more enchanting than all of the Midgard poetry books he's ever read.
It seemed like you two were making a habit of bumping into each other unexpectedly.
Loki gulped, squaring his shoulders. A beat passed, and then two, until you finally noticed him from the corner of your eyes. You looked up at him with your eyebrows softly raised in surprise, a gentle smile lifted the sides of your mouth; "Loki, hi."
"Hello," Loki greeted you slowly, his eyes shifting from the book in your lap to your eyes, "shouldn't you be out with the others, enjoying the sun?"
"Should I?" You narrowed your eyes, lazily closing your book and getting up from the armchair. "Shouldn't you?" You asked then, smirking as you raised an eyebrow and took a step towards him.
Loki's heart stumbled inside his chest, he breathed out a laugh. "I'm not big on hangouts."
You hummed, burying your hands in the pockets of your jeans. "Why is that?"
For a moment, Loki dwelled on whether to be honest or come up with an easy lie. But you were looking up at him with such delicacy, such attention, not a trace of hatred or judgment in your warm eyes. It almost looked as if you cared... about him.
Loki breathed in sharply through his nose, the words rolled off his tongue on their own; "I doubt many of your friends would enjoy my presence there."
You blinked up at him, lips parting before you told him quietly; "I would."
There was a distant burning behind Loki's eyes, his mouth felt dry. No one had ever rendered him completely speechless before, yet now, you had done just that. With his silence, you avoided his eyes and ran your tongue over your bottom lip in a motion that he couldn't help but follow.
"And..." You continued, voice sweet as honey, traveling between the bookshelves in the secluded library, "We'll never know if we don't try, right?"
The way you referred to you and him as 'we' got a foreign feeling blossoming inside Loki's chest, all warm and tingly. When you offered him your hand, so you could guide him downstairs to meet the others, he took it.
─── ·❆· ───
After a full week of taking care of the whole city, Saturday nights were a time for having fun and relaxing; aka movie nights with the team. Everyone sat together in the main living room of the compound, Tony had labeled it 'mandatory bonding day'. The room itself was pretty spacious, dimly lit, with two big comfortable couches and a TV that almost covered the whole wall, and a small kitchen right beside it for easy snacks and drinks.
"Right, I'm thinking... Terminator." Tony suggested as he came from the kitchen with an extra large bowl of popcorn in his arms.
"We saw that one already," Steve complained as he fumbled with the remote.
"There are multiple ones," Tony said, smugly, as he plopped himself on the couch and threw popcorn in his mouth.
Thor, who sat beside you, suddenly perked up with a giddy smile on his face; "oh I've always enjoyed that one who has the girl with the long, magic hair." The god gestured to his own hair.
Tony gaped at him, his fingers holding the popcorn were frozen midair. "Tangled?" He exclaimed then, eyebrows raised, "You wanna watch Tangled? in my house?"
You fought to hide a smile. "Technically it's our house," you quipped, after all, you were to blame for Thor's love for the Disney movie.
"Why don't we just watch both? The night is still young," Yelena finally suggested from her spot by the corner of the couch.
As they continued bickering, your eyes finally caught sight of the one you'd been waiting for.
Loki walked into the living room quietly, his socked feet barely making any noise on the expensive flooring. His gaze found yours before he saw anything else in the room, and a gentle, shy smile appeared on his lips.
You'd grown very close, very fast. Loki had started seeking your presence more and more each passing day; during the mornings he'd wait for you with an extra cup of coffee in hand, during the missions it was already routine that you two were a pair, and during the night you never parted ways without him planting a kiss on your forehead first.
Never in your life had you met someone quite like him, who carried such a bruised heart and still managed to be so loving. It made you wonder if anyone had ever bothered to see how beautiful his soul was, for you had fallen in love with it before you even touched his skin.
You gently patted the vacant seat on your left side, lifting the thin blanket covering your legs so Loki could sit down, and once he did you draped part of it over his legs as well.
"What's today's punishment?" Loki smirked, making himself comfortable beside you. His shoulder flush with yours.
"Stop it, movie nights are nice. I know you secretly enjoy them too," you chuckled, bumping his knee with yours. His proximity raised goosebumps all over your skin, and if you weren't so focused on your own feelings, you would've felt how much Loki's heart was racing as well.
"I only come to these because you do too," Loki mumbled, his eyes focused on the TV and a frown appearing on his eyebrows as the first scenes from Tangled played on the screen.
Your breath caught on your throat. He had said it so casually, so easily. You wondered if he had even realized the weight of his own words. "Right," you whispered, a little breathless.
It didn't take long for the only light in the room to be the one coming from the TV. When Tangled hit the 45-minute mark, Tony was already snoring and Thor had finished two bowls of popcorn. You, however, were wide awake and fully aware of Loki's arm resting on the back of the couch. What a cliche move, you thought to yourself, your cheeks burning hot and biting back a smile.
Loki's face as he watched the movie was nothing short of comical, one would think he was watching a period drama; his lips hovering ever so slightly before he'd scoff at a musical scene, his eyes softening as the romance between Rapunzel and Flynn blossomed, the way he mindlessly played with the ends of your hair. You watched him more than you watched the movie, and you didn't miss the way he froze and gulped when you finally rested your head on his shoulder.
─── ·❆· ───
The day had started out fine; a cold yet sunny morning, your fingers brushing Loki's when he handed you your cup of coffee, no eminent trouble in the city, everything was normal and fine; until it took a turn for the worse.
You didn't hear the fight, you didn't know exactly what caused it, but you felt it immediately. Anger, hurt, and pain were suddenly heavy in the air even through the closed door of your bedroom. As soon as a shiver ran up and down your spine you got up and all but ran outside to chase the somber feeling.
The elevator doors of your floor weren't even fully open yet when Loki busted his way through them, Thor hot on his heels.
"I knew it was a mistake coming here," Loki snapped, his steps fast as he put as much distance between himself and Thor as he could, nearly running straight into you in the process.
"You know what, brother," Thor began, he had stopped walking, standing in the middle of the living room, "Maybe it really was a mistake to bring you here, you don't care about anyone but yourself, it's almost as if you enjoy hurting people, you can't help it. It'll always be like this, that's why you're better off on your own." Thor wasn't shouting, but his words rang loudly in the room; his chest heaving when he stopped speaking.
You had held your breath the entire time, gripping the back of a kitchen stool until your knuckles turned white. Thor was angry, you could feel it even without being near him, but he didn't mean what he had said, not entirely. Thor's emotions were a passing wind on your skin though, for who you really felt, stood just a few feet behind you.
Loki had his back turned to his brother when he spoke, and he didn't turn around after. Even without looking at him, you could feel the way he trembled, unsteady hands closed into tight fists to mask his hurt; he gulped back a sob, and kept on walking to his bedroom without a word.
You could choke with the amount of pain radiating off of Loki; heavy, sickening, all-encompassing pain that you felt so vividly in your skin and bones. You only shot Thor an angry glance and muttered; "Damnit Thor," before turning around hastily. You thought you heard Thor calling after you, but you decided to ignore him, your priorities already set.
You ran after Loki, catching up just before his door slammed shut. Taking a deep breath, you walked into his bedroom and softly closed the door behind you with a click.
You'd never actually been in Loki's room before, so you took a single moment to glance around. The room itself was a little bare, with only the necessities such as a double bed, a dresser, a desk, a small bookshelf, and the door that led to his bathroom. You made a mental note to gift him something to liven up his space; maybe a plant.
Loki had his back turned to you still, both his hands resting on his waist as his head hung low. But you knew he knew it was you there with him, by the simple fact that he was allowing you to stay.
The silence was a heavy one, packed with the electricity of two souls tightly holding onto each other. Loki was trying so hard to keep all his pain in control, his shoulders shaking with each breath he took; but you could feel it as if it was your own.
"Loki," you said his name in nothing but breath, testing the waters. You took half a step toward him as you fidgeted with your hands.
He didn't answer. You weren't expecting him to.
You pursed your lips before saying; "he didn't mean it," your voice was choked and took effort to come out, the back of your eyes already burning, "what Thor said. He- he didn't mean it."
A few beats passed, and then; "doesn't matter if he did." Loki's words cracked in the middle, it was the most broken you'd ever heard him sound. "He's right."
"He's not," you told him in the same heartbeat, not a tint of hesitation in your tone.
Loki turned around, his gaze finally finding yours and there were tears pooling at the bottom lid of his bright eyes. "Yes, he is," he took a single big step toward you, nearly closing the distance between you and him. Loki's lips trembled as he struggled to keep talking; "and why is it that you care? What's in it for you?"
He was hurt, and he was frustrated, and he was angry; you knew that. Still, you couldn't help but be taken aback by his question. What could he even mean by that? Did he really believe that all this time that you'd been dancing around each other's feelings, it wasn't real?
"Loki, I-" you stuttered, not knowing how to say it without baring your heart in the process. Your hesitation got Loki avoiding his eyes from yours, and you forced yourself to go on. "There's nothing 'in it for me' I just... care about you."
Still waiting for the other shoe to drop, Loki softly shook his head, scoffing. His tears were a blink away from spilling, he felt as if barbed wire was wrapped around his throat, and his heart threatened to jump from his chest and straight into your hands.
It scared him. How easily you could make his walls crumble like paper in the rain. He flinched slightly when he felt the ghost of your touch on his cheek, blinking multiple times when your thumb brushed away a single tear rolling down his cheek. You touched him as if he were porcelain, and yet it still broke him.
"Is it that hard to believe that you're important to me?" You asked then, voice nothing but a whisper in the short space separating your bodies. With your hand still holding his cheek, you forced his eyes back on yours. "You have a good heart, Loki. I just wish you could see it the way I do. I wish everyone could see it."
The crooked smile he gave you nearly made your own tears fall. "You don't know what you're talking about, you don't know what I've done," he told you quietly, more than anything, he sounded utterly defeated.
"But I do know," your free hand found one of his then, and you tangled your fingers together loosely, "I might not have been with the Avengers when you attacked New York, but I was still in New York. And I still mean it, you could tell me every single bad thing you've ever done and I'd still tell you how good you are, because I see it. Every single day, Loki. I feel you every single day, and I can feel all this-" Your words caught in your throat and you tasted your tears on your lips. "-All this pain that you carry around and you still choose to be good."
Too many emotions swam behind his eyes for you to put a finger in any of them. But tears were running freely down Loki's cheeks now, pooling against your hand resting on his cheek.
"What did you-" he tried, gasping for air as if he was underwater. This was foreign territory. You had a place in his heart no one else could ever have, he realized, and his heart was beating faster than his mind knew what to do with. "You've been prying into my emotions without me knowing?" He sounded more desperate than annoyed.
"I didn't want to," You explained quickly, "I- I never meant to, but for some reason, I can't block you out." Shrugging weakly, you slowly dropped the hand resting on his cheek, missing the way he glanced down in search of your warmth. "I tried. I really tried."
There was a vulnerability in Loki's eyes you'd never seen before. He looked at you as if he'd just realized what love is. You wondered if you mimicked the same gaze—you sure felt it.
Loki shuffled in his stance. His hand, still holding onto yours, tightened its grip. "I'm-" He avoided your eyes, looking somewhere past your shoulder, "I'm sorry you had to feel all that."
You softened at his words, shaking your head and taking another step forward until your sneakers bumped his shoes. "Wasn't your fault," you whispered.
Loki gulped back a sob after you spoke, and that was the last straw for you to let go of his hand and pull his body to yours in an embrace.
He melted into you.
Loki's fingers dug into the fabric of your shirt and he buried his head against your shoulder—you soon felt it becoming damp, yet you only hugged him tighter. With the desperation he was holding you with, you wondered when was the last time someone had held him.
The soft sobs escaping him were muffled against you. And you couldn't help but stroke his back, the tips of your fingers burying into his very soul. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of this alone." You spoke near his ear, feeling the goosebumps that raised on his skin. "You never deserved it," you promised.
You weren't sure how much time passed, you stayed there for as long as Loki needed you to. When he eventually pulled away, he didn't go far, his hands kept holding your body close to him as if he was afraid you'd leave if he let go.
His bright eyes didn't hold a storm anymore, they were more like a calm sea. A soft frown etched itself into his eyebrows, "did you… take away my pain?"
You chuckled quietly, "No, I can't take away people's emotions." You lifted a hand until your fingertips could brush the skin on his forehead, "But I can make them lighter." You traced an invisible line over his eyebrow and until you reached his cheekbone, "Make the weight just a little bit easier to carry."
Loki leaned into your touch, almost closing his eyes. His hands that rested on your back traced your spine and pulled you closer. "Darling, you've been making it easier ever since the first day I met you."
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
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danikamariewrites · 5 months
Text
Meant to Be
Mob!Azriel x reader AU
A/n: I’m so excited to start this little series! I hope you all enjoy this and thank you for being patient with me. I know I’ve been all over the place lately lol. Also I might change the pov I use in the next fics but we’ll see.
Warnings: none
Series Masterlist
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As I’m just about to shut the front desk computer down, the glass door to the gallery swings open. Holding back rolling my eyes, I lift my head ready to tell whoever it is that we're closing. I stop, my lips partially open as my eyes meet the most gorgeous, soft hazel ones. On a beautifully sculpted face with a sharp jawline and soft raven hair. The words died in my throat. Changing to, “How can I help you?”
Gods I need to stop staring. If Feyre was still here she would be making fun of me for ogling the poor male while using my stupid customer service voice. He gives me a bright smile before speaking. “I’m looking for a new piece for my office. The walls are feeling a little bare.” Mother above he sounds like an angel.
I froze again. I’m technically not supposed to be selling paintings to clients, especially walk-ins and new ones. But my boss left me in charge for the rest of the day. It’s Gavin’s own fault he blew off work for a spa day. And I had to help Gavin list all the paintings, so I can absolutely sell one of these bad boys. I was amazed by how much Gavin didn’t know when these paintings came in. And he has the audacity to call himself an art collector.
“Absolutely. Are you looking for anything specific or I can show you a few of my favorite pieces if you’d like.”
As I stand I look around the room to see if anyone else is in the gallery. Two males with similar tan skin and dark hair stand by the door. The more muscular one slightly smirks at me before staring ahead again. I look back at the male in front of me, taking in his suit, the expensive watch, and the thick silver signet ring on his index finger gleaming in the light. Staring at the ring closely I can make out a family crest engraved on the flat surface. Morwood.
The male standing in front of me is notorious mob boss Azriel Morwood. Recovering quickly I smile up at Azriel, burying any kind of fear that was working its way up my spine. He isn’t here to hurt me. He’s here to buy art. Harmless.
Relaxing, I walk around the desk, gesturing to the left of the gallery. “This way then.” Azriel holds out his arm for me to take, that bright smile never once leaving his lips. Although it might not be the most professional thing to do, I loop my arm through his.
As we go from painting to painting Azriel seems to relax as well. We fall into easy conversation. At times it feels like we were childhood friends catching up. His flirtatious comments made me blush and fumble over my words. At the risk of being unprofessional again, I flirt back. There’s no denying the male is beautiful. I’m sure he’s kind under all of those dangerous layers. I can’t help the pull I feel toward him, to know more about Azriel. I should feel ashamed of this attraction. Azriel has done awful things but that feeling isn’t taking over.
“And that’s it for this collection. Is there anything else that’s caught your eye?” I ask, regretfully pulling away from Azriel as I snap back into my customer service voice. A stark contrast to the normal flirty tone I was just using. He seemed to take his time thinking. Azriel’s hazel eyes seem to twinkle as he looks at me. “That Blanch piece, I loved the two you showed me.” “Of course.” I lead him to the middle of the section where the two paintings hang side by side.
He looks at the two trying to decide between the two. “Which is your favorite?” I look at him, taken aback by Azriel Morwood asking for my opinion. “Well…I can’t choose between the two. Truthfully, I believe Blanch created these pieces to complement each other. They’re from two different collections but you can tell by the edge of the scenery they are meant to be together.” Azriel let out a thoughtful hum as he crossed his arms.
I try not to stare at him too blatantly but I just can’t help myself. His thinking face is cute. I can tell he’s concentrating. “I’ll take both.” My eyes widened. I'm so shocked I took half a step back. “I’m sorry?” I realize that it came out harsher than expected. “Sorry, I just - really? You want to buy both?” A half smile tugs at the corner of his lips as Azriel turns to face me. “If they are meant to be together it would be a crime to separate them.” There was something insinuating in that seductive tone of his. The hopeful look in his eyes gave it away. Something told me Azriel rarely let something like that slip. I give him a genuine half smile of my own. “Of course.”
Fifteen minutes and one giant check later Azriel had bought his paintings with the promise to come pick them up after they were framed tomorrow. Finally closing the gallery I went home and dreamed of him that night.
——
Walking down the sunny streets of Velaris I’m lost in thought about Azriel. How I want to run my fingers to see if those raven locks are truly as soft as they look. Those hazel eyes and how I never want them to lose sight of me.
My phone incessantly buzzing in my bag pulls me from my thoughts. I groan as I search for it in the clutter of stuff I threw in this morning. Fifteen texts from Feyre and more incoming light up the lock screen.
Girl get here soon
Gavin is piissseeddd
What did u do lmao
He won’t tell me, plz tell me so I know before him. I wanna taunt him with this secret info
Oh boy. He must not be pleased about the new client. I quickly type out a text telling her I’d be there soon. Shoving my phone back in my bag, my pounding heart seems as loud as my footsteps. I’m practically jogging by the time I enter the gallery.
Feyre looks up at me from the desk. A wild and confused look is on her face like she was just handed the winning lottery ticket. “He’s been on the phone with Benny all morning. I could hear him screaming, what did you do?” A nervous laugh sounds on the last word.
As I open my mouth to answer the door to Gavin’s office flings open, hitting the wall inside with a violent thud. “You!” He seethes. “Why didn’t you call me about the client last night?!” He screeches as he stomps over to the desk like a child. “What was I supposed to do? Say, sorry, come back later? It was Azriel Morwood.” Feyre lets out a dramatic gasp leaning back in the spinny chair. Her eyes bounce between us, waiting to see what wild statement her ears will be blessed with next.
“I know damn well who the client was, and you’re not supposed to make sales! Remember? Or has your sense of self importance around here made it hard for you to remember that you're a fucking intern! And you have no right —” a throat clearing makes Gavin stop his berating. His face went pale as his eyes landed on Azriel and the two males flanking him.
Azriel raises a brow giving Gavin a quizzical look. Gavin puts on a fake smile striding to greet our guests. “Hello Mr. Morwood! How can I help you today? Is there a problem with your purchase that I can fix?” He shoots me a glare that I don’t notice. All I notice is Azriel. It feels like the whole world has melted away and it’s just us.
“No.” His tone cruel and cold. “I would like to talk to y/n. Alone.” He emphasizes the last word by pinning Gavin with a look that would send anyone running. The shock on Gavin’s face is fucking priceless as he backs away murmuring an apology.
I slowly approach Azriel trying to suppress my grin. He watches me with a gentle gaze. That charming smile pulling on his lips again. “Hi,” Mother above that deep, gravelly voice gives me chills. “Hi.” I whisper back. “Your paintings should be ready soon. I saw the framer when I came in.” Azriel slowly shakes his head. “No, not that. Well, yes, I’m here for the paintings. But I wanted to ask you something.” I blink up at him curiously tilting my head. What could he possibly want from me?
“Are you free for dinner tomorrow night?”
414 notes · View notes
neptuneiris · 2 months
Text
Behind the Scenes | (epilogue)
Behind the Evolution
pairing: actor!aemond × fem!reader
summary: things seem to be going well, but there is still a missing part in Aemond's new life and that is you.
word count: 12.4k (I know it's really long but it's totally worth it, I swear😭)
previous part • series masterlist
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and me again, apologizing for the long delay. my life has been so crazy lately, i have no time and i miss writing, but it's finally here and i hope you like it a lot🤗
it took me a long time to give you a good chapter, so please comment and let me know your opinions, it really doesn't cost anything.
to break your head writing and not get any comments is sad, any writer will understand me, so please and i would appreciate it a lot😭🙏🏻
now yes, read and enjoy!
warnings: aemond and aenar melting our hearts, fluff, sexual content, smut.
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Life has become better for both, you and Aenar, and you are very grateful for that. Now, your days go by with a calmness that you have never experienced before.
You are happy and above all Aenar is happy, who radiates joy and happiness at all times, with his laughter always filling the air, a melody that reminds you how lucky you are to have him in your life.
There is honestly nothing better for him, feeling very grateful to his dad and also to the Targaryen—Hightower family.
Aemond has been a pillar of support and love since this new chapter of your life began.
His dedication and commitment to Aenar has been unwavering. Also his family has been a network of support and love that have welcomed Aenar and you with open arms.
And this is exactly what you think about every morning you wake up, realizing how much your life and Aenar's life has changed, for the better.
You yawn, carve your eyes and linger for a moment staring at the curtains in your room, where the sunlight reflects and paints a soft glow on the walls.
Then when you feel fully awake, you head to Aenar's room to check on him, watching him sleep in his crib, where you mostly remember the sleepless nights you had to go through since he was born.
But now the peace in the room is palpable and you lovingly watch your son sleep soundly.
He is now exactly one and a half years old, and you and Aemond continue to devote all your effort and love to ensure his well-being.
Together, you change diapers, take care of him, prepare his meals, buy his necessities and take him for walks in the park, enjoying every moment shared with him.
From the beginning, you and Aemond committed to help each other in Aenar's upbringing and that's exactly what you do. And considering that Aenar is now of age, there comes the exciting moment when he babbles his first words more clearly.
It was one day after Aemond comes home from work and the three of you are in the living room watching the movie that Aenar loves lately and always wants to watch, Cars.
When suddenly, he makes a sound, like some kind of playful babbling that catches yours and Aemond's attention almost instantly.
"Ma-ba-ba," he says as he moves his arms up and down, as if he's reaching for something more than just the words, "Ma!" he exclaims, with a huge smile.
He's sitting in the middle of both of you and you smile nervously at once, as you feel your heart start to beat too hard from excitement.
"What is it, baby?"
You say in a honeyed tone, taking him in your arms tenderly and sitting him on your lap, making sure he can see you and Aemond.
"Mo-ma!" he exclaims with a beautiful smile, his eyes sparkling with curiosity and a spark of amusement.
"You mean 'mommy'?" Aemond also tells him in a honeyed tone, stroking his silver hair lovingly. "Yeah, my little one?"
"Mo-ma," Aenar repeats, raising his arms again, watching his daddy with the same happiness and adoration.
"Mo-mmy," Aemond pronounces slowly, precisely, pointing at you tenderly, "Mommy," he emphasizes, smiling adoringly. "She is your mo-mmy," he continues, pointing at you once more, "Can you say 'mommy'?"
Your smile doesn't fade as you watch your little one try to pronounce that special word with Aemond's help.
You even join in and repeat the same word back to him in the same way, as Aemond gives him more patience and continues to encourage him to say the whole word.
"Mo-mmy," Aemond repeats him.
Aenar frowns with concentration, as if trying to decipher the secret of the words.
"M-moo."
"Mo-mmy," Aemond repeats again with excitement and anticipation, almost getting there.
Aenar moves his lips, as you exchange a nervous smile and glance with Aemond, your hearts beating in unison as you hold Aenar's small hands between yours.
Your gazes meet, too, communicating a mixture of shared excitement and anticipation.
And then, it happens.
With a concentrated effort, Aenar points to you and with his eyes shining with excitement, he emits a sound that seems to contain all the love and joy in the world.
"M-ommy," he babbles, his tender, trembling voice filling the room.
And in that moment, your heart fills with overwhelming happiness and your eyes fill with tears of joy and melancholy as you look down at your child, your lips quivering with pent-up emotion.
"Yes, my baby!" exclaims Aemond happily with a huge smile, leaving a resounding kiss on his cheek to then look at you with excitement and longing.
Aenar laughs and is thrilled by the way you both smile and celebrate his first word, while you pull him closer towards you and start leaving repeated kisses on his cheek, hugging him with love and also congratulating him for his good work.
Aemond can't contain his emotion and joins in the embrace, wrapping his family in a warm and loving hug.
Tears also glisten in his eye as he gazes at his son with indescribable pride, knowing that this moment will be etched in their hearts forever.
And the three of you celebrate this precious moment, immersing themselves in the joy and excitement of this magical moment.
And you stay there, in the living room, surrounded by the scattered toys and Aenar's playful laughter, while you ask him to tell you mommy one more time and Aemond, as excited as you are, records it and sends it to his mother and siblings, announcing the great news.
But Aenar's adventure doesn't stop there.
Soon, both of you, and especially Aemond, encourage him to venture out on his first steps.
With each shaky and brave attempt, they celebrate his accomplishments, being part of each small step towards his growth and development.
Their laughter fills the house as he takes unsteady steps, clinging to furniture and seeking balance, while Aemond and you stand around him, arms outstretched, ready to catch him should he stumble.
Not only at home Aenar tries to take his first steps, also at the Targaryen—Hightower mansion, where Helaena and Daeron together with Alicent also encourage him and take care of him while he walks and holds on to the furniture.
Until the moment finally arrives in the garden of your house.
The warm afternoon sun caresses the garden, painting every corner of the green lawn with warm and golden tones, creating a cozy and lively atmosphere.
For a while now Aemond has been walking with Aenar all over the lawn. Although he has no object to hold on to, Aemond guides him gently and patiently, holding him and encouraging him to take each step bravely.
You watch them from the kitchen windows, having finished washing a few dirty dishes, smiling as Aemond makes playful airplane sounds and Aenar laughs.
As he moves forward, his confidence grows, his steps become steadier and steadier, guided by his father's unconditional love and support.
Until eventually you decide to join in.
You sit on the grass, at a considerable distance from them, neither too long nor too short, with an encouraging and proud smile on your face.
Aenar, more excited than before to see you join them, his little hands clasp tightly in his father's, his eyes shining with a mixture of happiness and determination.
"Mommy!" he exclaims happily, pointing at you and you laugh.
"Do you want to go with mommy?" asks Aemond in a honeyed tone.
"Mo-mommy," he babbles, wiggling excitedly in his father's arms, still standing.
Aemond laughs and holds him firmly by both hands.
"All right. Are you ready, champ?" he asks him, his voice full of enthusiasm and encouragement.
"Come on, honey!" you encourage him, stretching your arms out to him, "Walk to mommy, come on."
Aemond encourages him and still holding him, with an uncertain but determined step, Aenar lifts one foot, followed by another, his tiny feet pressing against the soft grass.
"That's it, baby!" exclaims Aemond with joy, his smile lighting up his face.
With each step, your heart pounds in your chest, pride filling you as you watch your little one intently and lovingly.
"Well done, keep it up baby!" you encourage him, reaching out your hands to him, "Come on, come to mommy."
With a glint of determination in his eyes, smiling Aenar keeps moving forward, his steps still hesitant but full of courage. His little hands cling tightly to those of Aemond, who guides him patiently and lovingly across the soft lawn of the garden.
As Aenar gains confidence, his steps become surer and more determined. And little by little, Aemond begins to let go of his little hands, allowing his son to take his first independent steps.
And with palpable care, Aemond walks behind him, stretching his arms around his little body to catch him in case he needs extra support.
And then it happens.
Aenar strides forward supporting himself, his giggles filling the air as he approaches you with determination, almost running. Your heart swells with pride and excitement at the sight of him as does Aemond.
"Yeah, yeah, keep it up, you got it!" you exclaim happily, unable to contain your happiness as you stretch your arms out towards him.
"Come on, come on," Aemond encourages him too, smiling, watching just as excited as you are about the moment.
And finally, with one last effort, Aenar takes one more step as he reaches toward you and falls into your open arms.
Laughter and congratulations fill the air as you pick him up and embrace him tenderly and excitedly, at the same time as he too laughs and doesn't quite understand his parents' huge smiles.
"You did it, my love!" you exclaim, full of amazement and unable to contain your joy.
You watch Aemond surprised and happy, where his gaze also shines with pride and amazement, as he reaches over and deposits a soft kiss on his son's hair.
Happiness and love fill the space between you, creating a moment you will treasure forever.
And after that memorable moment in the garden, Aemond's family witnesses Aenar's first steps as well. Helaena and Alicent decide to organize a picnic in the garden of the mansion and invite the whole family.
They are all spread out in the garden, the weak rays of the sun caressing their faces as they enjoy the lively afternoon, sharing laughter and conversation, with the sun about to set.
Aenar, full of joy and excitement ventures out once again to walk with the help of Aemond, his brothers and Alicent. While you find yourself sitting with Rhaenyra, her husband Daemon and Aegon at one of the tables.
You recently had the pleasure of meeting the rest of Aemond's family and Aenar as well.
Daemon's daughters, Baela and Rhaena are also here, as are Rhaenyra's eldest and youngest sons who also couldn't help but melt for Aenar.
There are other family members present as well, such as Rhaenys Targaryen and her husband, Corlys Velaryon.
You engage in conversation with Daemon and Aegon, but mainly with Rhaenyra and Rhaenys, while you watch from a distance as Aenar takes small, hesitant steps, but with his determination and joy evident in every movement.
Helaena, Daeron, Jace, Luke and Alicent watch him with pride and adoration, clapping and cheering him on with every step he takes, holding out their hands to guide him.
Alicent, with a tender smile, watches his grandson with love and admiration, while Otto Hightower nods approvingly, acknowledging the family Aemond has, even though he and you are not together.
Afterwards, the meal is served and everyone takes a seat at a large table, with Aemond at your side and Aenar on his lap, as everyone begins to talk about different topics of conversation.
Eventually also Helaena decides to take Aenar in her arms once both of you have already eaten to take him to play with little Aegon and little Viserys on the lawn, with Jace also helping her to supervise her younger siblings.
And even though both you and Aemond know that Aenar is in very good hands, like the protective parents you are, you can't help but watch him from time to time.
But it's more about watching him interact with Rhaenyra's younger children, the three of them laughing, playing and imitating car sounds, the three of them sharing their toys.
Then Rhaenyra introduces you more cordially to Rhaenys, wanting you to get to know each member of the family in depth, where almost immediately the three of them strike up conversation.
While Aemond and Daemon, like the protective fathers they are, watch with little smiles as Daeron, Luke and Joffrey entertain the younger children with their games and antics.
When again Aegon stands beside his brother and watches as the two of them watch the scene before them.
The sounds of laughter and commotion fill the air, as Daeron and his nephews immerse themselves in the infectious joy of the children and make them laugh, creating moments that will be fondly remembered for years to come.
Amidst the hubbub and fun, however, Aegon notices something else.
He watches as Aemond, his eyes shining with happiness, can't help but look away from you from time to time.
He sees you laughing and chatting with Rhaenyra and Rhaenys, and there is something in the way he looks at you that he has seen before that reveals his deep longing and affection.
"You haven't spoken to her?"
He decides to ask him, trying to broach the subject cautiously, causing Aemond to look at him instantly, confused and curious.
"With whom?"
"Y/N," he says quietly, pointing at you with his gaze, "You know... you haven't talked to her and tried to get her back?"
Aemond averts his gaze, his blue eyes reflecting a mixture of longing and reserve.
"No, I haven't," he says with some resignation.
Aegon looks at him with compression but also with some disappointment, for he understands his position but still, if he were him, he would at least try to talk to you.
And he waits for you to tell him more, but he doesn't.
"And why not?"
Aemond lets out a sigh.
"Because I don't want to ruin things between the two of us," he says sincerely, "Talking to her about it might make her uncomfortable. She might even feel in a bad position and I don't want that."
Now it is Aegon who lets out the sigh.
"Bro," he places a hand on her shoulder, "If you don't try you'll never know what will happen. Maybe things will turn out differently and you might be surprised. But you'll never know if you stand by and do nothing."
Aemond thinks over his brother's words, feeling the weight of his advice. His gaze is lost on Aenar, laughing and playing with the other children who continue to fill the air with their laughter and joy.
But the truth is, Aemond has thought about doing it, talking to you.
But he honestly feels torn between his desire to do it to see what might come of it and to preserve the harmony between you and him.
A mixture of emotions engulfs him, the longing to try to reconnect with you, mixed with guilt and remorse for past decisions that caused you so much pain.
On the one hand, he sees how everything has improved between you, how Aenar's presence has woven a stronger bond and how together you have found a new form of happiness.
But on the other hand, uncertainty washes over him, reminding him of the wounds of the past and the possibility of reopening those scars.
He wonders if you, like him, have put the pain and disappointment behind you, if you would be willing to give him a second chance.
Do you still love him, or has that been replaced by indifference or even resentment?
Aemond sighs, feeling the weight of indecision on his shoulders.
"I know," he replies, his tone heavy with contemplation, "But I don't want her to feel pressured, or worse, to think I'm trying to force something that's no longer there."
"Aemond, I understand your point and what you're considering," he tells him with his expression reflecting a mix of empathy and determination, "You don't want to lose her trust, you want to make things right and that's fine," he assures her, "But if she meets someone new....
He starts to say and Aemond's whole body immediately tenses up, instantly observing him with a serious look and his open eye completely attentive, not liking to hear that.
But that is exactly the reaction Aegon expected and he continues speaking to prove his point. Though he senses the tension in his brother and proceeds cautiously.
"If she meets someone new, wouldn't you rather have tried to fix things before that happens?"
Aemond ponders his brother's question, feeling the weight of his words. For a moment, his mind fills with images of you with someone else, and the thought fills him with an awkwardness he can't deny.
"I'm just saying that if you don't try and that happens, you're going to regret it later," he explains to him, "And worst case scenario, if you decide to talk to her, at least you'll know you tried."
Aemond mulls over these new words, letting the prospect of an uncertain future with and without you intermingle in his mind. Images of a possible you together with someone else cause him a pang of pain and a sense of emptiness he can't ignore.
"I know," he finally admits, his voice heavy with thought and concern, "I understand what you're saying, Aegon. And you're right that I don't want to regret not trying. But I'm also afraid that..." he smacks her lips, "That this conversation will ruin everything between us."
Aegon feels disappointment wash over him and has no choice but to resign himself and take it for granted that he will not muster the courage to speak with you.
So he lets out a long breath, gives him a friendly pat on the shoulder and nods sympathetically. And Aemond seeing it, notices the disappointment in his gaze.
"I'll think about it," he promises him, wanting to give him that hope and himself as well.
And Aegon places a small smile.
"Just don't think about it too much."
Meanwhile, the play between the children continues with joy and excitement, each laugh and shout filling the air with a melody of happiness. As the entire Targaryen-Hightower family immerses themselves among the familiars in conversation.
Until eventually the sun begins to set on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold and pink.
You talk with Alicent and Helaena, while Aenar exhausted but happy, snuggles in Aemond's arms, surrounded by all the love and affection of his family, until it's time to go home.
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The darkness of night envelops the room, interrupted only by the faint glow of the night lamp and the clock showing two-thirty in the morning.
Aenar's cries fill the room as you swing him in your arms from side to side, walking around the room, stroking his back and trying to soothe him.
You feel a knot of worry as you watch him squirm uncomfortably in your arms, feeling his little body warm and his skin damp with tears.
His cheeks are pink and his eyes are red, as you try to wipe his face and try to get him to calm down, but the medicine hasn't soothed his pain and he also refused to take a bottle baby.
You run a hand over your face, still feeling drowsy and trying everything you can to be able to calm him down.
"Shh, shh, my love, it's okay," you whisper in a soft voice, rocking him tenderly and gently, "Mommy's here, sweetie."
But Aenar's persistent cries don't abate for the next fifteen minutes and as time passes, you don't know what else to do.
You know it's a fever, but it's not high, as the thermometer indicates. But you don't know why the medicine doesn't work.
But you do know that if it is very serious, you will have to take him to the hospital. But you know you can't do it alone, you need help and right there you decide to call Aemond despite the time.
With Aenar still in your arms, you carefully take your phone and dial his number, hoping that he will answer in the late at dawn. But he doesn't answer the first call.
Aenar shrieks louder and you dial again, pacing around the room, desperate and frustrated, still trying to calm him down and redialing Aemond as many times as it takes until he answers.
Until he finally does.
"Aemond?" you call out to him hopefully, with urgency and relief.
"Y/N?"
You hear his deeply hoarse, sleepy voice on the other end of the line.
"I'm sorry to wake you but I need your help."
Aenar's cry sneaks through the line, causing the dream to quickly fade from Aemond's system.
"What? What's wrong? Is everything okay?" he asks, concerned and attentive.
"Aenar is sick, he has a fever but it's not high. He won't stop crying, I've given him medicine and it's not working. I've been like this for almost an hour," you explain, your voice trembling with worry, "I-I don't know what else to do."
Aemond jumps out of bed, feeling the worry take hold of him as he pulls on a t-shirt and tennis shoes, not dropping his phone from his ear.
"I'm on my way, okey?" he says in a determined voice, as he hurries to get dressed and leave his room, "Don't worry, I'll be there soon enough. Just... keep trying to calm him down."
His voice is full of anxiety, worry and urgency as he tries to calm your nerves as well as his own.
"Okay," you murmur.
And each cry through the line only fills Aemond with more and more worry and it also breaks his heart to hear his little boy cry like that.
While you can hear the background noise, like the jingling of his keys and the buzzing of the door lock as it opens.
"I'm on my way out right now," he assures you, his tone urgent but comforting. "Don't worry, Y/N. I'm coming."
Meanwhile, you struggle to remain calm as you hold Aenar, your nerves on edge as you listen to her steady cry.
And as you wait for Aemond to arrive, you strive to soothe him, rocking him gently and whispering comforting words. But each time you try to comfort him, his crying becomes more intense and your concern grows in tandem.
And it's only made worse by the fact that you feel time seems to slow down and every second feels like an eternity.
Until finally you hear the sound of the door downstairs and your heart leaps with relief that it is Aemond.
It is precisely because of situations like this that you both made the decision that he also has a copy of the house key with him, so things are easier for both of you.
Then you hear his hurried footsteps up the stairs and when the door to the room opens abruptly, Aemond enters with his worried but determined look.
And you watch him with complete relief.
"Hey," you try to smile in the midst of the worrisome situation, still cradling Aenar against your body.
"How is he?" he asks, almost running to both of you.
"He won't stop crying," you tell him, feeling a lump in your throat, as Aemond runs one of his hands through his son's silver hair, "And the medicine still isn't working."
He nods with compression but still with concern.
"Hey, hey," he says softly, lovingly, still stroking his hair and yet still looking concerned, "What's wrong, my little boy?"
Aenar only cries harder and he begins to examine him.
With delicate hands, he checks his temperature and gently pats his forehead and cheeks, while Aenar continues to sob and writhe in your arms. Aemond frowns, concerned about his son's fever and the distress he is experiencing.
"It's probably because of the discomfort."
"So what are we going to do?" you ask, desperately searching for a solution to alleviate your son's suffering.
"Let's give him a bath," he propose, "It will bring down the fever and we'll also give him some more medicine. We'll see if that will make him feel better."
You nod, trusting him and thinking it's a good idea.
Aemond takes his son in his arms and Aenar clings to him tightly, while his tears keep falling down his chubby pink cheeks. And you quickly head to his bathroom to get everything ready.
Aemond cradles Aenar gently, feeling your heart clench at seeing him so distressed.
"It's okay, my little boy," he murmur to him, kissing his forehead tenderly, "Let's make you feel better, okay?"
Together you carefully place him in the tub, making sure the water is warm and comforting.
Aenar cries hoarsely and his body shivers slightly, but the comforting sensation of the warm water seems to calm him a little and his crying becomes quieter, but he still doesn't stop crying.
"Don't you think we should take him to the hospital?" you ask, still worried.
Aemond looks at you seriously and softly at the same time, his eyes reflecting the same concern you feel inside.
"I think we can handle it from here for now," he replies, his tone calm but confident, "The fever isn't too high and he's crying because he's not comfortable. But if the medicine doesn't work and he doesn't stop crying in another hour, we'll take him," he assures you.
You nod, that sounding good, and together you continue bathing Aenar, with you holding his little body very carefully while Aemond washes his hair and cleans it carefully.
After the bath, you both wrap him in a soft towel and carry him back to his room, where Aemond carefully administers another dose of medicine.
"I hope this helps," he murmurs, his voice full of hope as he watches Aenar with concern.
At least he's not crying like before but he's still crying.
Aemond gently cradles him once you put him in soft, comfortable clothes, pacing around the room, while you watch them attentively and worriedly, really not wanting both of you to have to take him to the hospital afterwards, hoping the bath and medicine will work.
Then finally Aemond feels him slowly begin to relax, sees his cries become softer and his little body loosen in his arms.
"I think you can let him sleep in his crib now," you whisper softly, feeling a great relief as you see Aenar slowly calm down in his father's arms, moving towards them carefully.
"No, he probably wants contact. If I leave him in his crib, he might cry again," he explain in an equally soft whisper. "But it doesn't matter, I can sleep with him on the couch."
You watch him intently and slightly worried.
"Are you sure? You won't be uncomfortable?"
He shakes his head, his expression showing serene determination.
"No, I'll be fine," he assures you gently.
He glances at Aenar, who now seems calmer, and then meets your eyes again, conveying a sense of gratitude and trust in you.
"Do you think you could prepare a baby bottle for him?" he asks you gently.
You nod with a comforting little smile.
"Of course."
The two of you walk down to the first floor, with Aenar still in Aemond's arms. You turn on the living room lamp and then head to the kitchen, while Aemond turns on the television with the volume low, providing a quiet background for the evening.
You open the cupboard, take out the baby formula and a clean bottle bottle. You carefully measure out the correct amount of formula and pour it into the bottle. Then you fill it with warm water and shake it gently until the mixture is completely dissolved.
Meanwhile, in the living room, Aemond settles down on the couch with Aenar in his arms, looking for the most comfortable position for both of them.
And seeing you return, he takes the bottle ready for Aenar.
"Thank you."
"I feel like you'll be uncomfortable," you insist, slightly worried, softly, "Are you sure you'll be able to sleep?"
"Yes, don't worry," he tells you disinterested, softly, "Besides, look at him," he points to Aenar, "He's already comfortable, he's feeling better and I don't want him to cry again."
You let out a long breath, as he is right.
But you interrupted the poor man's sleep at midnight, for an emergency, yes, but that he now sleeps on the couch is not acceptable to you and you feel sorry for him.
But Aenar is already calmer in his arms and that relieves you too much. And besides, it seems like the only option.
"I'll get you a pillow and a few blankets," you tell him, heading for the stairs.
And soon enough, you carefully place a pillow behind his back to bring him more comfort and then cover him and Aenar with a soft, warm blanket for the cool night.
Aemond settles in gracefully, thanking you softly, carefully adjusting Aenar in his arms and allowing his little one to drink from his baby bottle.
And as he continues to settle into his father's comforting arms, feeling the warmth of his body envelop him and enjoying the bottle, his breathing becoming calmer and more regular, Aenar finally falls asleep.
And that's when the feeling of total relief finally comes over you as you see him asleep, calm and serene.
Aemond also feels all the tension and worry leave his body as he sees his son healthy and comfortable in his arms, sleeping soundly, making sure he is well at all times, taking care not to wake him up.
And with a sigh of relief, you settle on the couch next to him, wanting to be present and supportive in whatever is needed during the night, in case of anything.
And this exactly catches Aemond's attention, watching you slightly confused but still with that warmth in his gaze.
"What are you doing? Go to sleep."
"I'm fine here," you reply calmly, offering him a small soft smile.
"You should go get some rest," he gently urges you, "You were alone for a long time trying to make him feel better, now I can take care of him for the rest of the night."
"No, I won't be able to sleep peacefully," you explain gently, "I want to stay here and help in case of anything."
Aemond looks at you with appreciation, but also with concern and in that he disagrees.
"I understand that, but seriously, you need to rest," he insists with an understanding look, "I'll take care of Aenar. Besides you'll only be on the second floor and I'll come with you if anything needed or happens."
Your tongue runs across your lips, still hesitant as you watch him.
"Are you sure?"
He gives you a small comforting smile.
"Very. Go to sleep, don't worry, honey."
You can't help but feel a strange feeling inside you as you hear his nickname for you, surprising you, so you quickly look away, trying to look unaffected and feeling for a second nervous.
And finally after a brief moment of hesitation, you finally agree, aware that Aenar is in very good hands.
"Okay," you give in with a tired little smile, getting up from the couch, "But you know, if you need anything or anything happens, anything at all, let me know."
"Sure," he answers you with a nod, conveying reassurance, "Sleep well."
"You too, Aem," you tell him as you start to walk away towards the stairs.
Eventually as the minutes pass Aemond begins to resume sleep now with Aenar in his arms, needing rest and feeling somehow more relieved to have his little one in his arms as you can make sure he is okay.
And you too, already in your bed, drift off into your sleep now feeling relieved and with no more worries.
The clock changes from three in the morning to eleven, where the warm sunlight gently reflects your room, while you wake up and yawn, still feeling sleepy.
You check your phone and knowing that you still have to sleep, your need to check on Aenar is greater and the unconscious reason that made you get up after a few hours of sleep.
And once in the living room, Aemond and Aenar are resting peacefully on the couch, their breaths soft and even, immersed in their deep and peaceful dreams.
You place a soft, small smile on your face at the sight of them, definitely feeling better to see that Aenar seems to be better after the long, troubling night.
With light steps, you approach the couch, trying not to disturb the sound sleep of father and son.
Fortunately no daylight enters through the blinds covering the large windows of the living room, only the TV on and also the entrance to the kitchen illuminate it a little.
And as you reach beside them, you gently stroke Aemond's hair, who from the sensation and your comforting touch, slowly half-opens his eyes.
"Hmm?" murmurs in a sleepy, hoarse voice, blinking slowly.
"Aenar seems much better," you whisper to him with a reassuring look, averting your gaze to your little one asleep in his father's arms, "I thought in that maybe you could let him sleep in his crib so you can rest more comfortably too."
Aemond nods slightly, his expression relaxed but still sleepy.
With careful movements, he rises from the couch, gently holding his son in his arms as you head towards the stairs. And once in his room, he very gently deposits him in his crib and tucks him in with a soft blanket, making sure he's comfortable before walking away.
"He definitely looks much better," he tells you with a relieved tone, "He's having a very good sleep."
"Yes," you confirm with a soft smile, sharing his sense of relief, "Yes, it looks like the rest is doing him good," you say, watching Aenar lovingly as he sleeps peacefully in his crib.
Aemond exhales softly, letting out the pent-up tension of the night, which instantly catches your attention.
"And you slept well? Was it very uncomfortable?" you ask him with some concern.
"Oh, no, it was fine," he answers you with a small smile and carefree attitude, "The important thing was that Aenar felt better and..." he sighs, "We both had a very good sleep together."
You nod with a grateful expression, though your eyes reflect a lingering glint of concern.
"Thank you for coming and taking care of him," you murmur gratefully.
"No need to thank," he replies softly, returning your small smile.
You both say nothing for a few seconds and he yawns, showing obvious signs of accumulated tiredness after the night of worry.
"I think I should go home now," he says in a soft, sleepy voice, though his gaze still reflects concern for his son.
You frown slightly.
"You're still tired. You should get some more sleep," you tell him, placing a comforting hand on his arm.
He is hesitant, torn between wanting to rest and worrying about Aenar, which you notice.
"You don't have to go," you tell him softly, "Sleep in the guest room and later we can fix something to eat."
He lets out a sigh.
"Are you sure?"
"Very," you nod, "Now come."
Together you head towards the guest room, where you prepare the bed for him, handing him soft blankets and also pillows to make him sleep more comfortably.
Aemond arranges everything in his own way as well and as he does so, his hand brushes against yours briefly, sending an electric current through both of you.
You both look at each other briefly and remain absorbing the stillness of the room, silent. You look away almost instantly, a little embarrassed.
But then, in a burst of sincerity, Aemond breaks the silence.
"Remember that day when we drove to the coast?" he asks you, his nostalgic smile adding a special sparkle to his eye.
A flood of memories wash over you, that sunny day and the laughter shared during that trip, so you nod with a warm smile.
"Yeah, how could I forget," you reply softly, "It was a beautiful day."
The mention of that special day seems to open a door to a sea of shared memories.
"And that you fell in the sand when we got to the beach?" you add, with an amused smile.
He lets out a laugh and you immediately follow suit.
"Yeah, how could I forget," he replies with a chuckle, sitting up in bed, "I can still feel the sand in my pants."
"I still remember what you looked like," you reply with a laugh, feeling the warmth of nostalgia envelop you, "You had sand in your hair too."
Aemond looks to a specific spot, his eyes shining with the light of memories as he relives every detail of those days.
"I remember we spent hours searching for sea shells on the shore," Aemond adds with a nostalgic smile. "And you insisted on keeping them all in a bag, even though you could barely carry it at the end of the day."
You laugh softly, nodding knowingly.
"I'll never forget the moment you tripped over that giant shell and almost fell into the water."
Aemond chuckles, the sound filling the room.
"It was a close call! Good thing you caught me just in time."
"Yeah," you nod, taking a seat next to him casually, also reliving those moments in your mind, "I also remember when we would go to the movies and always argue about what movie to watch," you mention, your voice slightly tinged with fondness from past memories.
"And how we would always end up watching a movie that neither of us wanted to see," he adds with a knowing smile, recalling the light and playful arguments you both used to have.
As memories flow between the two of them, an atmosphere of warmth and complicity fills the room, also in an intimate and cozy way, as if time had stopped to allow them to fully immerse themselves in the past.
The closeness between your bodies becomes obvious and a comfortable silence settles between you as you immerse yourself in the nostalgia of those shared moments.
Aemond observes you with a deep gaze, full of tenderness and complicity.
"I remember that day at the lake," he murmurs, his voice soft as a whisper, "That summer we planned a picnic and dropped that pie in the water."
A playful smile appears on his lips as he mentions that memory and you can't help but laugh as you recall the scene. The memories seem to come alive between you, as if you are reliving those moments together once again.
"And how you tried to catch that giant fish with your bare hands," you add.
He lets out a soft laugh.
"Nothing worked exactly as I had planned," he admits, "But it was fun, don't you think?"
"Definitely," you nod with a smile, letting nostalgia wrap around you like a warm blanket, "They were happy times."
"And they still are," he murmurs, his tone laden with meaning as his eyes meet yours, "At least for me."
Your heart flips at his words, and in that instant, you are overwhelmed by the intensity of emotion that threatens to overflow inside you.
Suddenly, Aemond takes your hand gently, and a shiver runs through your body at the contact. His fingers intertwine with yours in a natural way, as if they fit together perfectly.
Every touch, every gesture, seems to charge the room with a palpable energy, as if the air itself were charged with electricity.
Instead of running from it, however, you decide to let yourself be swept up in the moment, not knowing exactly why but allowing the connection between him and you to grow even stronger.
"For me too," you confess, your voice barely a whisper.
A tense silence fills the air, charged with anticipation and possibility. And the pounding of both of your hearts you can hear it in your ears, echoing loudly.
"Really?" he asks you longingly, his eye shining with hope.
You nod softly, letting your eyes convey to him the truth of your words.
"Yes," you answer truthfully.
His gaze shines with gratitude as he looks into your eyes with that longing and intensity, and at that moment, the tension is palpable between you and as if following an irresistible impulse, also without too much thought, you both slowly approach each other.
Aemond leans fully towards you and you, as if there is an invisible magnet, are drawn in without too much thought and your lips meet in a soft but meaning-laden kiss.
There is insecurity and shyness at first, surprise even, as if Aemond senses that at any moment you are going to push him away with one blow, creating a brush between both lips, wanting to make sure that this is something you want too.
But you feel the same way he does too, and more than anything it's as if you're testing the waters before you dive in completely.
And soon enough that tension fades, replaced by a wave of warmth and familiarity.
He moves his lips against yours with more purpose, this being something he longed for since the two of you were reunited, when the universe decided to give him this second chance and now that it's finally happening, he can't believe it.
You gasp against his lips and raise one of your hands, placing it on the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you, as he places one of his hands on your lower back.
And then time seems to stand still, as you both sink into the kiss, your hearts pounding.
It is a kiss in perfect harmony and every touch, every sigh, every movement, is intense.
Gradually the pressure of the contact of lips against lips increases and the kiss becomes deeper and more passionate. Aemond feels as if he is floating and you remember the familiarity of it.
He slides one of his hands tenderly down your cheek as you gently caress his face and each touch is electric, sending currents of emotion through your bodies.
And when you finally separate, with your breath coming in short gasps and your heart pounding in your chests. There is a gleam of wonder and joy in Aemond's eye, while you are enveloped in a warm sense of accomplishment.
You both slowly pull apart, but keep your foreheads together, enjoying the proximity of each other
"What was that?" you ask, unable to look away from his bright, question-filled eye.
"I don't know," he answers you in a low tone, as if you're both sharing a secret, still unable to believe it, with that awe and longing, "But I've wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you again."
You can't help but feel that flutter in your lower abdomen as you hear his words and you both stare at each other, plunged into the comfortable and meaningful silence.
When Aemond pops the little bubble and suddenly looks at you worried and sorry.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what happened," he mumbles, "Maybe it's not what you wanted and I got carried away—
"No, you don't have to apologize," you tell him instantly softly, "I think it was something we both needed."
"You wanted it?" he asks you still unsure.
"Yes," you confess, letting the emotion flash in your eyes as you dive deep into his.
Aemond smiles softly with tenderness, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb.
"I can't believe I waited so long to do this," he murmurs.
The warmth of his breath against your skin makes you shiver slightly, and without another word, he leans into you once more, seeking your lips with his in a kiss full of tenderness and passion.
He sucks on your lower lip with his mouth and you gasp, making him make his way into your mouth with his tongue.
And suddenly all you can think about is Aemond Targaryen.
The kiss is more needy, almost demanding, as his hand comes to rest in your hair and he pulls you fully into him, panting into your mouth, making you involuntarily start to move closer to his body.
Normally Aemond would think the two of you are just kissing and not going any further, but things begin to change the moment he notices your intention to sit on his lap, causing his alarm to disperse.
Both of your movements are more needy, almost letting go and he pulls away with a wet sound from your lips and watches you completely attentively and worriedly, his lips swollen and red.
"Y/N," he calls to you in alertness, "You're—
You don't let him finish, as again you kiss him without thinking too much and he doesn't object, kissing you back intensely.
And without stopping kissing him, you raise yourself slightly on the bed with the help of your knees, place a hand on his shoulder and drape a leg over his lap, sitting on top of him, bringing your hands to his hair.
He places his hands on your waist and both of your breathing begins to get heavy, with the room filling with the gasps and wet sound of kissing with each caress.
"Fuck-" he groans.
"Ae-mond," you sigh against his lips, beginning to feel that delicious ache between your legs.
And there's what I'd missed so much, too.
You saying his name like that, having you like that, kissing you like that, just everything about you that he can't believe is really happening.
Panting your name sends a wave of arousal throughout his body and he begins to feel the hardness in his pants.
He clings with more need to your lips and his hand grips your hair more firmly, gently tugging it away from your lips and planting soft, wet kisses on your neck, descending to your collarbone.
"Fuck, Aemond," you gasp, giving him more accessibility, your eyes closed and your lips parted.
He slowly moves back up the kissing path he drew on you and you lean in to kiss him again, repeating his actions, also leaving kisses on his neck, inhaling his deliciously masculine scent with a slight baby scent by Aenar.
You begin to feel the bulge in his pants, just below you, sending waves of excitement to your core that begins to tighten its walls around nothing.
And unable to help it anymore, you start rubbing your covered center against his hardness, kissing it and feeling yourself burning up inside, the room suddenly feeling too hot.
"Oh shit," Aemond gasps against your lips as you feel yourself rubbing against him, relieving a little of his need to find relief.
You roll your hips sensuously and with enough intensity that you both feel it all, causing you both to start breathing through your mouths.
He holds your waist tighter, panting against your lips and watching you as if you were a Goddess.
"You look so pretty," he says hoarsely.
This sends a new wave of arousal to your core and you also feel your cheeks light up.
And not knowing exactly what to say, you lean down to his lips again and take his lower lip in your teeth, pulling it free, causing him to move you more intensely on top of him.
"Take this off," you tell him between gasps, grabbing the edges of his shirt.
He does so without much thought, tossing it towards a spot in the room regardless, while you bite your bottom lip at the sight of his bare chest and run your hands over his white skin.
It's been years since you last saw him like this and he's not the only one who's been waiting for this since you both started being on the same page.
So you lean back in to kiss him and soon your own clothes on you start to bother you, so you take them off too, unable to resist any longer, revealing your bra.
Aemond leans back, watching you curiously and completely aroused.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," you murmur.
And that's just when Aemond no longer has any doubts.
You want this as much as he does.
So without further concern, he kisses you again and makes you rub against him again, feeling his hard cock begging to be released and relieved.
He runs his big, hot hands down your bare back, wanting to unbutton your bra, sending shivers and electric currents throughout your body making.
Your face and neck are on fire from his kisses and movements, making your whole lower stomach feel on fire as well.
He finally unbuttons your bra and pulls it across the room, leaning down to watch and admire you, feeling like his cock is going to explode at any moment at the sight of your breasts.
"Fuck," he murmurs hoarsely in delight.
He keeps one hand on your lower back, while the other goes up to one of your breasts, squeezing gently to do the same with the other, wanting to give them both equal attention.
He rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, making you gasp and arch your back at the feel of his calloused fingers on your soft skin, feeling so good.
"I missed these amazing tits, baby," he murmurs, now holding both breasts with both his hands, kneading them as he wills, "I can't believe I missed watching them fill with milk."
You moan and gasp loudly as he ducks his head and takes one nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking it gently but hard enough.
"Oh, yes," you whimper, pulling your chest closer toward his face.
He runs his tongue all over the areola and gently grazes the nipple with his teeth, while his other hand keeps squeezing the other with his long, firm fingers.
He releases the nipple with a wet pop and looks at you with that twinkle in his eye, still kneading them.
"Do you like it, baby?"
"Yes," you murmur, rolling your hips on top of his cock, "It feels so good."
He takes the other nipple into his mouth, giving it the same attention as the last, while you moan at the delicious sensation.
Then he releases it with a wet pop and kisses you again, as he lowers his hands to your waist and continues down to your ass, kneading both your cheeks and squeezing it appreciatively.
You roll your hips against him with more purpose this time, kissing him, unable to get enough of him, needing more.
You suck and nibble on his neck, your hands roaming the hairy, silver planes of his chest, moving down his belly and reaching the edge of his pants.
That's when you stop and raise your gaze to him, silently asking his permission without saying a single word, watching as he's expectant in his gaze, trying to control his shaky breathing and holding back completely from pouncing on you.
"Please," he looks at you needy and you don't need to hear any more.
You sit on his knees and with your hands you begin to undo the buttons, watching the huge bulge forming, while he reaches up a little to pull his pants down just enough, as well as his boxers.
And when you see it, erect, big, fully hard and with its red tip, anticipation and excitement sweep over you.
You move towards him again, making him lean back further, sitting on his stomach and gently taking his hard cock in your hand.
He sighs as he feels the warmth and softness of your hand envelop him, gasping as you begin pumping in a not fast enough but not slow enough rhythm on his cock.
"Oh-fuck, baby," he murmurs hoarsely into your face, his cheeks pink and his lips parted, "Oh God."
He moans as you run your thumb over the tip, smearing a drop of cum in circles around the fat head.
His head falls back, sighing in relief as he feels his cock getting that attention it needs, while you kiss his neck and your free hand gently strokes his hair.
"Does that feel good, baby?" you ask in a low, husky murmur in his ear, causing him to shiver.
He hums in pleasure, tilting his head toward you to look into your eyes.
"It feels so good," he says appreciatively, hoarse and panting, "It feels so fucking good."
You kiss his lips and he gasps into your mouth as your hand strokes him more frantically, your fingers soaked with his fluids enveloping his cock completely.
"Ah... fuck," he says in plessure, closing his eye.
You run your hand completely up and down, even touching his two hard rocks, causing Aemond to squint and eventually his breathing becomes more choppy and agitated, on the verge of cumming.
He finds it embarrassing that you've barely started to touch it and he's already about to make a mess of it, but that's not what you think.
You feel a sense of satisfaction and are concentrating on making him feel good, even if it means making him cum in your hand, when suddenly, he grabs you by the hips, stops your movements and lifts you abruptly.
He wraps your legs around his naked torso and gently places you on the bed, while he stands upright.
"You almost had me," he says in a husky voice with a playful little smile.
You bite your bottom lip as he removes his boxers and pants, standing completely naked towards you, then leans back down towards you.
He places one of his hands on your cheek and kisses you deeply, running his hand slowly and gently between the valley of your breasts, down your belly and finally reaching down to your sleep pants.
But you grip his hips tightly with your thighs, flooded with heat and arousal as his cock presses against your still covered center.
He rolls his hips against you, still kissing you, rubbing along your pussy dripping with your juices, while his hands caress as much of your skin as they can.
You try to roll your hips, craving more friction, but one of his hands presses you against the bed, pinning you down as he takes his time, rolling slow against you as much as he wants.
"Fuck, I bet you're dripping."
You whimper.
"Yeah? You're already wet for me, baby?" he asks condescendingly against your lips.
"Aemond," you moan, "I need you," you plead.
"Don't worry, baby. I'll give you exactly what you want, everything you want," he says with some affection to again trap your lips in a passionate kiss.
"Please."
You beg, desperately trying to move against him.
"Shh," he whispers, rolling his hips against you again, this time a little harder.
You moan and he smirks with some satisfaction, watching your every expression, loosening his grip on your body and his hand moves down to the edge of your sleep pants.
"Okay baby, let me see that pretty pussy."
His words entertain you and without a second thought, you lift your hips and remove your pants, also your panties, as Aemond moves the clothes out of the way and he smiles and feels his cock pulse as he watches you spread your legs for him.
With his own hand he strokes his nice big cock, admiring your naked body at his disposal as if you were not real.
"You're so fucking wet," he moans, moving closer to you again.
Then he finally takes pity on you and runs one of his fingers along your slit, instantly feeling your juices envelop him completely.
You moan and clench your thighs, as he slides his finger through your folds and you moan once again pathetically, biting your lips.
Then he finally slides his finger down and gently presses inside your tight entrance, to sink it between your walls, as he uses his thumb to massage your bud.
And you let out a whispery moan at the comforting sensation.
"Oh my—
An electric sensation envelops you, as he thrusts his long finger in and out, then adds a second finger, pushing further in and pulling them apart, stretching your walls.
His thumb gently massages your bud in circles, causing you to jerk in breath-stealing pleasure as you press against his fingers.
"Fuck!" you moan, closing your eyes.
"What is it, baby?"
He asks you through parted lips, admiring you.
"D-don't stop," you beg in a low sob.
He adds a third finger, stretching you even further as his thumb presses against your bud, making you shudder with pleasure.
He continues to stimulate and arouse you until you become a mess, whimpering and growing that feeling deeper and deeper inside you, on the verge of exploding.
He curls his fingers, sending another little jolt of electricity inside you, dragging his fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy.
You bite the inside of your cheek, as Aemond's other hand reaches up to caress one of your breasts.
And just when you think you're about to cum, he notices your whole expression puckered in pleasure, your lips in a perfect 'O' and your eyebrows drawn together, with your breath hitching, he pulls his fingers away from your pulsing, needy pussy.
Immediately that liberating sensation disappears and you moan in reproach and disappointment, watching him confused and instantly completely dissatisfied.
"Be patient, baby," he tells you as he takes you by the waist and places you in the center of the bed.
"Aemond," you moan again in reproach, "P-please."
"You're going to cum but not yet."
He leaves you in the position he wants and you notice how he is still erect and completely needy, instantly your mouth watering at the prospect of this actually happening after years.
Your walls throb and clench painfully but deliciously around nothing, still in pleasure from feeling him inside you and also from the anticipation.
And Aemond sensing your needs, especially ruining your orgasm, finally takes appropriate pity on you and begins to line up against your entrance.
For him this is a challenge, as you are tight, tighter than the last time the two of you shared a bed, so there is that excitement and anticipation you are giving him for allowing him this moment.
But before he enters you, he leans into you and whispers in your ear.
"Are you absolutely sure about this, love? This is the best time for you to stop me now."
You don't give him an answer right away, all you do, completely desperate and wanting to make your honest decision more than clear, you grab his cheek, turn him towards you and kiss him deeply.
He gasps into your mouth and responds immediately to the kiss, as you move your hips beneath him, causing your bud to rub against his hot, hard cock, causing relief.
"Yes, yes, absolutely sure," you say into his lips, kissing him again, "I'm yours, take me any way you want."
And there it is.
Aemond is no longer in any doubt.
Completely pleased and full of pleasure, he slowly sinks into you, inch by inch and not a sound comes out of your open mouth, you hear absolutely nothing either, only the ringing in your ears.
You don't even hear his panting and grunting, you don't focus on anything because your vision blurs for a moment.
Until he goes completely still, holding himself inside you without moving to allow you to adjust to his size.
"Fuck me," he moans, closing his eye in complete pleasure as he feels you squeeze all of him deliciously, just as he expected, "You're so tight and hot, baby."
He kisses you again, but you all you can feel is his huge cock buried in you. All of it.
It's been so long and it's perfect, more than perfect... there's just no feeling like it and you'd missed it.
"Are you okay?" he asks you tenderly, watching you intently beneath him.
"Yes," you murmur, breathing shakily.
You feel full.
Your bodies are one.
And then Aemond begins to penetrate you with slow, deep but urgent movements, rocking his hips against yours.
A sigh escapes your lips at the first movement and you cling to his shoulders, sinking your face between his chest and neck, moaning, as he gasps and with his free hand spreads your legs wider for him.
"Don't you ever make me wait to bury myself inside this pretty pussy again, did you hear me?" he says hoarsely in your ear, like a warning.
He moves his hips faster and deeper, as you try to respond, but your words are garbled and you don't process them in your brain.
"Words, baby."
"Yes," you finally manage to say, "God, Aemond, yes."
"That's what I like to hear. Good girl."
His words and his gun envelop you and flood you completely, a heady sensation as he takes you.
With each thrust, you moan and gasp, your legs locking around his torso to feel him deeper inside you and your hands grabbing his ass so you can pull him into you.
You rock against him, clenching around his big cock every time your skins met.
"That's it, baby. Just like that-fuck," Aemond's voice breaks off with a growl, from the intense sensations.
"Yes, yes," you moan in his ear, music to his ears, biting his shoulder lightly afterwards.
His hand moves up your stomach to your breast, pinching and massaging it as you gasp louder and he grunts, still penetrating you as he increases the speed.
"Fuck, you're so fucking tight," he moans, moving slightly to get a better angle, "You feel so fucking good, baby."
You literally scream as he touches that special spot inside you with each thrust, making you temporarily see stars, moaning loudly without being able to help it, feeling so good.
And immediately Aemond's hand comes up to cover your mouth, silencing your sounds and also stopping the movement of his hips.
"I love hearing your every sound , but you have to be quiet, baby," he says condescendingly, "You don't want to wake our son, do you?"
He removes his hand when he sees you try to speak.
"Yes, I know, sorry," you say agitated, needing him to move inside you again.
"Keep your voice down, love," he says then kisses you.
And just as you both begin to move in perfect synchrony your mouths together, he again begins to move or rather roll his hips sensually, slowly and deeply, making you gasp into his mouth.
Slowly he begins to pick up the pace he had before and pulls his lips away from yours, kissing your neck as his hand again takes one of your breasts, moving down your collarbone until he takes in his mouth the nipple he is not giving attention to.
You arch against him and try not to moan too loudly, feeling so good and feeling that little flame again begin to ignite and grow inside you until it explodes.
"Fuck, Aemond. Deeper," you moan, one of your hands clenching the sheet tightly.
"I'm not going to last long the way you're squeezing me, baby," he growls.
Then he dangles your leg over his shoulder, creating a new angle for his thrusts and finally does as you ask, penetrating you deeper and harder.
"Oh God," you whimper, feeling a new intensity.
The head of his cock hits your soft spot as he thrusts in and out. And he leans into you, his skin glistening with sweat and seeing how beautiful you look beneath him.
"Would you give me another one?"
Completely filled with pleasure and feeling incoherent at how he's making you feel, you don't understand his words or what he's referring to, so he leans in to leave a kiss on your lips, wanting your attention.
"Another babe," he murmurs longingly, ramming you hard, "I wasn't there for my first son in his first few months because of my stupid decisions, but I'll do it properly this time."
You moan, rocking your hips against his, your whole face contracting in pleasure.
"Will you let me?" he murmurs with pleasure on your lips, caressing one of your breasts, "Will you let me get you pregnant, watch you get swollen with my child and these amazing milk-filled tits?"
You just nod, mind fuzzy to really understand but nod, wanting more, needing more, no matter what.
"Yes, yes, I will," you say completely drunk on pleasure, nodding quickly.
"We're going to be a real family, my sweet girl," he says sweetly against your lips, then leaves wet kisses on your neck.
You just nod again and after several more thrusts, you moan loudly again as he brings one of his hands down to caress your bud with his thumb.
And he quickly covers your mouth again with his free hand, not wanting to stop once more, not now, when he's taking you to the edge of the abyss as he keeps ramming your G-spot repeatedly and at the same time stroking it with his thumb.
And watching you like this, watching you take his cock so well, like you used to, is a pleasure he hasn't felt since the last time he did this with you, flooding him from head to toe.
Watching the woman he loves, her breasts swaying with each thrust, cheeks flushed and her eyes between wide watching him back, is for Aemond a sensation beyond intimacy.
"A-aemond," you moan, feeling yourself cumming.
He grunts, moving his thumb faster on your bud, panting and breathing hard, feeling his balls tighten.
"Come on, baby. I can't hold back much longer, come for me, I need you to cum first," he almost begs you, grunting, stroking your bud faster.
You feel a wave grow inside you, a powerful electricity, feeling every muscle in your body tense and your eyes close tightly, arching your back.
You moan highly at Aemond's name, your vision suddenly going blank, as the most intense orgasm of your life rips through you, as he continues to penetrate you faster and deeper.
His cock squeezes deliciously as he feels you squeeze him in that incredible way, fucking you through your orgasm, prolonging it and it feels so good.
Your walls crisscross around him, sucking him in as he grunts loudly, calling your name as he penetrates you, his cock throbbing harder and harder and moving inside you with more uncontrolled movements.
And finally, he comes.
You could swear you're left watching stars behind your eyes, as you feel all of his hot seed fill your insides and Aemond continues to move his hips very slowly inside you, grunting as you feel all of him fill you completely.
"Ohhh-fuck," he sighs, throwing his head back, his eye tightening and his brows furrowed, cheeks flushed.
His hot seed floods your womb and it was so much that it began to drip out of you.
Your legs lose strength, as does your whole body and you lie slumped on the bed, filled to the brim with Aemond's semen, with that gratifying feeling between your legs and trying to catch your breath.
Aemond slowly and carefully pulls his cock out of you with a hiss, making you shudder a little, then leans into you, leaves comforting kisses on your cheek and collapses beside you, also trying to catch his breath.
"Oh-shit," he sighs, pulling you closer to his body, hugging you, "Are you okay, baby?"
You just nod, as you snuggle into his chest, still shaken and completely overheated, so Aemond leaves a soft kiss on the crown of your head.
"I'll clean you up in a second, okay?"
"Okay," you sigh, with your eyes closed and licking your lips.
His care gives you tenderness and with what little strength you manage to regain, you raise your gaze to him and leave a soft kiss on his lips which he instantly reciprocates, smiling softly against your lips.
But as soon as all the heat of the moment goes down, he can't help but feel unsure and worried.
"It's okay if you didn't mean what we said," he begins to tell you, "I understand it was all for the moment. And I won't expect anything after this if it's just a one-time thing for you."
The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, filling the space between the two of you with a slight tension.
Also Aemond's anxiety is obvious, as if he is waiting for the world around him to crumble after what just happened, which foolishly only gave him hope.
But you with your gaze full of sincerity and affection, you run one of your hands over his face, gently removing the hair falling down his forehead.
"I meant it," you tell him in a soft voice, "What we said, what happened here...it wasn't just for the moment."
Her eye widens in surprise, her lips slightly parted as she absorbs your words.
A glimmer of hope shines in his gaze and his heart seems to lighten from an invisible weight.
"Really?" he whispers, her voice full of longing and relief.
You nod with a reassuring little smile, and before he can say anything else, you lean into him and kiss him tenderly, sealing your words with a gesture of affection and commitment.
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The sunset gently caresses your face and Aemond's as you both sit together on a blanket in the huge garden of your house, sharing laughter and conversation while enjoying the food and the beautiful scenery that surrounded you.
You suddenly had the idea of wanting to have a picnic in the garden of your house and Aemond was not opposed to the idea.
You both talk about everything and nothing, immersing yourselves in each other's company and the tranquility of the moment, with the bushes, the colorful flowers and the green lawn.
Aemond smiles, watching you fondly, feeling grateful to have you by his side, while you are beaming, happy to be here with him, sharing this intimate and special moment.
And honestly, Aemond doesn't quite understand why you decided to give him this second chance.
In his mind, he relives these last few days, wondering over and over again what exactly has changed in you that made you decide to trust him again. Of course he feels grateful and very lucky, but he can't help but wonder.
And honestly you're not entirely clear either.
After everything you went through on your own, after you had to carry most of the weight on your shoulders in the beginning and you had to fight against almost everything to be able to support yourself and your child... then everything got better and better.
You don't have a clear answer, but something about the way he has gone out of his way so far to show his remorse and genuine desire to make things right gave you hope.
Aenar is completely happy when he is with him and really a father figure was never lacking.
These early years for Aenar are very important and your reunion with Aemond happened at the ideal time for Aenar to have that father and son relationship with him.
Aemond takes your hand tenderly and delicately, intertwining his fingers with yours as he looks at you lovingly.
"I don't want anything else, just you and Aenar," he tells you with a small smile, vulnerable but sincere, "I couldn't imagine a better place than being here with you."
You smile back at him, feeling a warm tingle in your chest at his words.
You move closer towards him and gently caress his cheek, bringing your forehead together with his, letting the peace and tranquility of the pleasant moment envelop you.
"I know I never told you before because I wasn't sure if I felt it anymore," you begin to say in a soft voice and Aemond listens to you carefully, "But I love you too."
Aemond smiles softly and he swear he feel his eye begin to water, unable to help it.
And without wasting a second, he leans into you and captures your lips in a soft, passionate kiss, causing you both to lose yourselves in the moment, enveloped in the warmth of your love for each other.
"I love you," he murmurs once again against your lips, watching you and holding you in his arms adoringly.
Again he kisses you again, sweetly, softly and with deep feeling and after a while, they continued to embrace, enjoying each other's closeness.
And together they kept talking, laughing and caressing each other, because it is the moment of peace and happiness for both of them, finally after a long time.
Aemond had been feeling the pressure of his work lately. The constant demand of rehearsals, recordings and events was draining him physically and emotionally.
And after much reflection, he decided to take a temporary break from his career so he could devote more time to his family and himself.
When he shared the news with his family, he expected some resistance or concern, but instead, he received overwhelming support.
His mother and siblings supported him in his bravery in making that decision, as well as expressed their joy at having him more present in their lives, just as you did when he told you about his decision.
His family was also very happy for him and for you when Aemond shared with them the news that the two of you are trying again, Aegon most of all was very proud.
And that evening in the garden, while enjoying the picnic with you, he hears a familiar little voice that instantly makes him smile and fills him with joy.
"Daddy!"
Aenar exclaims, running to them with open arms and a huge smile, with Aunt Helaena running after him, telling them that the little boy missed his parents.
Aenar throws himself into his arms and you laugh, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead, while Aemond hugs him and leaves repeated kisses on his cheek, making him laugh.
Both he and you feel a deep sense of gratitude and happiness.
And in that moment, surrounded by love and laughter in the garden, Aemond feels complete and at peace, with his little family.
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