#someone who could hold all the possibilities in their mind | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gauloiseblue · 18 hours

Text

And at every table / I'll save you a seat

(Gaz × Reader)

[+18 | Adult Content MDNI]

Tags: fluff, smut, family issue, friends to lovers, slow burn, [A bit of warning] tradition view on virginity and marriage, piv sex

Words: 9.8k

It all started with a little request

"Will you take my virginity?"

He's taken aback by the ask, but he quickly regains his composure.

"No." He replied.

You look at him for a while, before you mutter out, "I understand."

"Wait," He grabs your hand before you could turn around, "Let's talk about it."

He observes the hesitation rising from your face when you look away, "I don't think you'd understand."

"You haven't tried yet." He smiles gently, "Try me, (Name)."

"... It's a long story."

"I got time for it." He told you, "Tea?"

With that, he invites you into his place.

You're silent when he offers you a seat, and he lets you sit with your thoughts as he works on the drink. It's not your first visit to his apartment, since you've been here quite often. But you never came with a somber mood, and he didn't know what to say to cheer you up.

He hands you the cup, before he pours the tea from the pot. He hears you murmur something, and though he doesn't quite catch it, he can roughly guess it.

"So," He began as he sat down across the table, "Would you mind telling me why you suddenly wanna lose it?"

You had blown the steam away from the cup, before you took a sip. He watches you take your time with the drink, until you're ready to talk.

"I know that I said I'm keeping myself until marriage, but I don’t think it's possible now." You bit your lip, as you fidgeted with the handle of your cup, "Because I'm going to be wed to someone I didn't know."

He raises his brows at your statement, "That practice still exists today?"

"Yes, it still does." You begin to explain the outline of the story. "My family came from a community that still holds an orthodox belief. My parents aren't conservative, but they can't escape the tradition either. When they told me about the engagement, I begged them to call it off, yet they asked me to go with it. But I don't want that. I don't want to be trapped in a loveless marriage." Your eyes shift as you hold back tears, "I know that they love me, if they don't, I won't be here. Away from home."

You quickly wipe your cheek before you continue, "The man who'll be my husband is highly respected in the community, but he's at the same age as my mother. I don't know why he asked for my hand, we barely talked. But for the last few months, he began to send me gifts. It's customary for a suitor to give the girl presents as a way of courting. Anyway, I won't bore you with the details."

He waits for you to gather your thoughts, before you start again.

"To be a bride, it's common for a girl to go through a ceremony, to see if the girl is suitable for marriage. I have to fulfill all of certain criteria to be recognized as a proper fiancée." You snort when you mention it, "Ky, you're a smart person, you must've known what that means."

He crosses his arms when you subtly ask him to make the conclusion. "If you fail the virginity test, then you're ineligible to be a bride."

"There are other factors that can annul the engagement, but yes, purity is the most important aspect for the bride to have." You stated, "If I fail that test, then I can be free from the custom."

"Won't you be shamed for… not being pure?" He carefully asked.

"Yes, but It's better than the other option."

You went quiet after the confession, as if you've retreated back to your shell.

He gazes at you long and closely, while a sense of familiarity comes to rest on him. The way you carry yourself reminds him of the old you—who couldn't look him in the eyes when you both were strangers.

"Say," He begins, as he rubs his face, "If I were to help you, what then?"

"Nothing, we can pretend it never happened."

"You know it's not possible, right?" He frowned, "We can't go back like we used to, at least I can't see it that way."

"I know, but I don’t have a lot of choices." You replied with a sigh, "I can never sleep with a stranger, and I can't do it myself either." You told him, "I have to lose it somehow, but I don’t know how. And the reason I asked you this because you seem to have a lot of experience, so—"

You stop when he presses his hand against his lips. While it's impossible to tell if he blushes or not, you swear you see a red tint on his cheeks.

"You're not…?"

He scratches his neck, as he coyly replies, "My ma raised me well, (Name). Of course I'd save myself before marriage."

"Oh—" You cover your mouth in shock, "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked you—"

"It's alright." He smiles, "How much time you have left until the ceremony?"

"About a month." You answered.

"I'll help you then." He said with such ease, that it made you stare at him wide-eyed, "But let me take you to a date first."

"What," You gulped, "What do you—Why? I thought… you said no…?"

"I hate seeing you like this, and I don't want you to resort to one night stand." He told you, "Besides, you didn't force me into this."

"But I did make you sympathize with me." You shook your head, "That's why you changed your mind."

"I said no because I knew you're saving yourself for marriage."

"But you said that you did too."

"That makes us even then." He tilts his head, "I'll take yours, and you'll take mine."

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out of it. Not because you're at loss for words, rather, you have too many questions in your head.

"You can decide how many dates we'll go before you decide if you want to do it." He reaches out to squeeze your hand, "How's that sound?"

Although you're still unsure at that time, you can't help but nod at the offer.

The first time he takes you on a date, it's on Sunday, 07:20 PM, at an independent cinema. He phoned you earlier, telling you that they're going to play an old romantic film.

"I thought you like mystery?"

"Yeah, but you wouldn't pick that on the first date." He grins, "Besides, the movie has Binoche in it."

By the time you arrive at the cinema, you spot him talking to another man by the ticket booth. He turns his head when he hears your call, before the other man leans to the side to see you.

"You're early." You told him.

"I could say the same to you." He said with a smile, "The movie's starting in 10, c'mere."

He extends his hand towards you, and you take it with a little bit of apprehension.

The man whistles when he drapes his arm around your shoulders, "I see ya bringing a date tonight."

"Yeah," He turned to you, "Ain't she pretty?"

His friend chuckles when your face turns red, "Can't argue with that."

"Well, we'll talk later. I'm gonna show her around for a bit." He gives the man a pat on his arm, "You still have that shrine of yours?"

"'Course!" He warmly retorted, "Wouldn't close it for ya."

He mutters something back to him, and the man gives him a thumb up. When the two of you part with him, you ask him about the shrine.

"It's just a room full of merchs." He explains, "He's a movie fanatic, so when he liked a film, he'd find any of the collectibles."

"Like graphic t-shirts?"

"More than that." He grins, "You'll see."

At the end of the hall, there's a door smaller than the theater one. He opens it for you, and guides you inside.

The room is roughly the size of a humble apartment, but it's filled with many posters and other things you have to see up close to know what they are. Your eyes scan the movie posters that are mounted on the wall, before you turn to a doll. It's a porcelain doll, adorned with old-fashioned clothes. You lift the little paper beneath it and begin to read.

"It's from 'Interview With The Vampire'." You hear him say, "It's one of the collections that he's proud of."

"I've seen that movie years ago." You murmured, while tracing the edge of the paper with your finger, "I didn't understand what the story was about, until I read the book."

"You read the novel?"

You nod, "I still read it from time to time. Oh, would you look at that." He turns his gaze towards the spot you point at, "Didn't we watch that movie together?"

"Mulholland Drive?" He rubs his chin, "Didn't you say you hate it?"

"Well, I did. But it's been stuck in my head since then." You turn on your heel and skim through the titles of the posters, "I see a lot of foreign movies but not french." You commented, "Isn't he a movie fanatic?"

"He is. Just not a hypocritical one." He replied, "He told me that many of the French directors are lecherous, and they like to put their fantasies into their movies. Guess what caused them to earn a good rating?"

"I don't know, affinity bias?"

"Precisely." He grins, "He likes a few French films though, like Plein Soleil, Amélie, Playtime,"

"Léon?" You smirk.

"He'd berate you if you ever mentioned that name in front of him."

You laugh at his playful warning, "I think I like him."

"Too bad, he already has a wife." He circles his arm around you, "Why don't I introduce you to someone else?"

You roll your eyes at him, as you're so used to hearing those words.

"Yeah, his name is Kyle Garrick, and he's currently single."

"Come on, you loved it the first time you heard it."

"Well, I did laugh at it, but it's getting old." You jest as you poke in his ribs, "Try something else, and maybe I'll fall for it."

And he gives you a response that gets you burst into a laughing fit. You shove him away as you retort back, ignoring the quiet tension that begins to hang in the air.

When the two of you enter the theater, he places his hand on your back as he guides you to your seat. Though it's just a small gesture, it sends a warm feeling to your stomach.

He settles down beside you, and his arm brushes against yours. The seats are quite broad compared to the commercial cinema, but still, there's not much space left between you and him. You try not to think about it too much, as you rest your hand on the same armrest as his.

The opening of the film with the scenery of a small town, before it shows the greetings between churchgoers and the neatly dressed gentleman. It then cuts to a standing crowd, who begins their worship with singing. You frown when you listen to the narrator, as she portrays the minds of the villagers as singular. As the hymn comes to an end, the parishioners bend down to sit on the pews, before the pastor climbs up to give a sermon. The colors of the scene contrasts with the next bit, as it cuts to two figures in the middle of the snow. The figures are covered with red hoods that they hold tightly as they walk against the wind.

The movie soon changes right after the wind blows the church door open. It focuses on the two figures earlier—a mother, and a daughter, as they begin to settle down at their new house.

Scene after scene, the narratives begin to blur into one, and you let yourself be immersed into the flow of the film. Instinctively, your body leans forward as you watch the chocolate and the store begin to take form. Yet in doing so, you missed the look your friend gave.

When the first conflict happens, you can't help but show your dislike towards the man—the well-dressed man from the beginning. But it soon dissipates when the woman invites her guest inside.

They talk for a little while, and the way she—her guest behaves, the clumsiness that she shows—that makes her look like a cornered cat, it almost looks surreal, as if you're watching yourself from the future scope. You press your hand against your lips, as the crease between your eyes deepens.

Perhaps it's just the right moment, or perhaps your thoughts spill over into his, that he decides to push your head gently onto his shoulder.

You were taken aback by the gesture, but you welcomed it. You murmur something to him, as you wrap your hand around his arm.

"What?" He asked in a low tone.

"Nothing." You told him while hiding your smile.

Kyle Garrick. You wonder if kind has always been his middle name. If it's not kind, then it must be thoughtful. It must be nice, to receive such affection from a man like him. In the midst of thoughts cartage, you begin to ponder, if it's alright for you to keep them from someone who's more deserving.

At the end of the movie, you slip your hand from his arm, as you stand up from your seat. You still remember the way he understands, and doesn't push further. He keeps the rest of the night in a lighthearted mood, though his hand lingers on you a little longer, and his gaze doesn't stray further from you, even just a little bit.

That night, you lay down on your bed with your thoughts as your lullaby. It doesn't help you sleep, but it does keep you company for the night.

The next day, you ask him if he's free on Friday.

It's curious how fast he responded back, considering that he still got jobs to do, particularly reports. When you read the message, you bite your lips as you type a new one.

'Wanna have dinner together?'

A new chat pops up in a second.

'Sure'

And another one after.

'When?'

'Today' You reply, 'Takeouts?'

'Let me cook for ya'

And it's settled.

When you show up on his doorstep, he opens it up the first time you ring the bell.

"Hey," He greets you with a grin, and you notice a red stain on his shirt, "Come in."

"Smells good." You commented as you stepped in, "What are you cooking?"

"Bolognese." He replied, "I haven't decided on the pasta yet. What do you want? Pappardelle or spaghetti?"

"Fusilli?" You said, before a smile betrays your lie, "Anything's fine, really."

"Pick a color then. Yellow or blue?"

"Yellow."

"Pappardelle then."

You thought it's just a random decider, until you saw the color of the packaging.

"Guess you're used to people who say it's up to you." You remarked while you climbed on the bar stool.

"You can say that." He chuckles as he drops the pasta into the pot.

"Were they your dates?"

"Pshh, no. Just my little brothers and sister. You know the story."

"I know." You trailed off and looked away, "But you must've had those moments in your dates."

"Like what you did earlier?" He smirks and you groan at him.

"Come on, you know I'd never complain about your choice."

"I know, that's why I like you."

"You always say that."

The conversation ends with a quiet chuckle, as he goes back to watch over the boiling water. You sense a reply from him that should be laid bare, but he left it at surmise.

"Dinner's ready." He announced, as he lifted up the plates from the counter. You follow him to the dining table, and you pull a seat while he places the dishes on the table.

As the two of you dig in, you quietly bite on the broad pasta. You might not be aware of it, but you always chew on your food longer when you're preoccupied with your mind.

You hear his voice as you snap out of your thoughts, but not clear enough for you to grasp.

"What?"

"It's alright if you wanna back down." He repeated, as he swirled the pasta with his fork, "I agreed to help you because you asked me to, but I know it might make things awkward between us, so."

"Oh, that's not—it's not about that, it's just," You chewed on your lip, "It's just that, when I think about you, I can't help but think that… I'll end up stealing something from you." You shook your head, "You could wait for the right person, you're not obligated to help me—"

"Well, I want to."

"I know, that's why I feel bad because I knew you wouldn't hesitate to help." You frown, "You're too kind for me, Ky. Sometimes I'm scared that I might get the wrong idea."

You almost jump when he holds your hand, and witness the fortitude that reflects in his eyes. "Go ahead then, go on and get the wrong idea. Because it might be true after all."

The way he said it—with a clear, unmistakable voice, drags you into silence. You can't find the words to say, nor the right response for his statement. While you're not entirely sure about the truth, you can see the trace of it on his face.

Your throat begins to tighten, and you try to swallow down whatever's in the way.

You know that he's hopeful that you'd give him some kind of clarity, but you don't. You couldn't.

After the dinner, you don’t extend your visit as you excuse yourself from staying.

"Let me take you home."

You shake your head, "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

You shoot him a smile, "Yes, don't worry about me."

He seems hesitant for a moment, but it disappears the moment you pull him into a hug.

"I'll call you when I'm home."

He picks up the phone at the second ringtone, and asks you if you're home. You give an affirmative answer, before the line turns silent.

The words that had wrapped around your throat came back to the surface. They beg to be let out of your tongue, but you bite them down. Not now. Not yet.

The call ends not long after, as you both say goodnight. As you sit down on the vanity stool, you look at the reflection of you in the mirror. It's the shape that you've known so well, and yet, you don't recognize it at the same time. Has your face already been like this? Is this what he always sees whenever you're around?

Absent-mindedly, you reach up to touch your lips. What would you taste like, if he ever kissed you?

Unfortunately, you can only imagine for now.

Four days would pass, and you soon find yourself waiting for the bell. He had messaged you earlier, telling you that he'll pick you up at your place.

The destination of your date is still unknown, since you only asked him to take you to somewhere quiet. Somewhere you can talk without the presence of curious ears. Of course, the first thought that came to your mind is the privacy of your home, but he got another idea, and kept it as a surprise.

"Bring a jacket with you." He told you on the phone, "You might need it."

But you don't know how cold it'll be, so you stick with a cardigan.

When he gets to your place, he doesn't ring the bell. Instead, you hear your phone rings, before a honk of a car announces his arrival. You walk out of your place and lock the door behind.

"Where are we going?" Is the question you asked him after you got into his car.

"You'll find out." He replied with a grin.

He doesn't give you any clue, other than the paper bag on the back seat. He also told you that it's a one-hour drive, so it's alright if you want to rest your eyes.

"I'm fine." You said, as you turned on the radio.

The ride is predominantly filled with songs, and the occasional chat between you and him.

On the other day, you either wouldn't stop talking, or you'd sit in comfortable silence. But that morning, both options seem unreachable.

"I'm sorry." You uttered quietly.

"What?"

"Sorry that I dragged you into this." You muse, "And I'm sorry that I made such a big deal out of it. I made things worse, didn't I?"

"Why'd you say that?"

"Because things have already changed between us, even when we haven't done anything."

"You think so?"

"Yes," You divulged, "When you said those things, I couldn't help but think that maybe you really meant it. But then again, you never told me anything before. Anything that could… indicate something."

"Are you sure?" You frown at his reply, "Think again, (Name)."

"What—?"

The car comes to a halt, and you snap your head towards the window. The usual view of the city has been replaced with trees. You stare at the board near the entrance, and you notice the words 'National Park' on it.

"We're here." He stated while unbuckling the seat belt.

You soon follow him as you push the door open. The cold air rushes inside, and makes you shiver.

He offers you his hand when you step out of the car. "Let's take a walk."

The trail that he chooses isn't as rough as you thought, and you can easily keep up with his speed. Though you knew that he slowed it down for you.

As you walk by his side, you feel a tug on your hand. It was his hand, and he wrapped it around yours. He smiles when you turn to him, and mutters out the same line he used whenever you're out with him.

"Wouldn't want to lose you here."

And it just clicked. Every piece of the puzzle just falls into the right place, and you begin to see the whole picture. He never changed at all, it was you who's changing.

"You like me."

You feel his hold tightens, before he loosens it up a second after.

"Like is an understatement."

"I'm afraid to use the stronger word."

"I know." He spoke softly, "That's why I never said it."

At the end of the path, a quiet lake waits for the two of you, providing a place for a silent conversation. The water is calm, but the breeze is colder than before. You hug yourself, trying to savor the little warmth that your cardigan provides. It doesn't take seconds before you hear a rustle, and feel yourself wrapped in a parka.

"Told you to bring a jacket." He murmured, as he held the garment for you.

His coat is warm, as if it has absorbed the heat of his skin. Your hands slip into the sleeves, before you roll up the cuffs. You watch his face as he zips up the parka, before he returns your gaze.

Perhaps it's him who leans closer, or it's you who wraps your hands around him first, but in the end, your lips meet with his. The kiss you both share is soft, and filled with longing. It's impossible to tell who's feeling it belongs to, but it envelopes around you like a mist.

When the two of you part, you smile as you murmur against his lips.

"I like you."

He softly chuckles as he cups your face, "I'm glad."

You both recognize the nuance of it, but no one speaks of it louder than a heartbeat.

I like you. What an understatement.

—

"Why do you like me?"

He lifts his head from the magazine when he hears your question.

"I could tell you all of the reasons, but at the end of the day, I simply like you."

"Really?" You roll your eyes, "Is that your way of saying you don't know?"

He lets out a small laugh, while he closes the mag. "Fine, I'll tell you." He begins, "I can't remember when it was, but we're pretty close at that time. We were just talking that night, and you asked me if I chose to be the giver because I felt uncomfortable receiving. I never thought about it, but it made sense. When I said yes, you told me, if I don't learn to receive, then I'd end up hurting other people. Because I denied their affection."

You lift your brows at the recount, "Did I really say that?"

"Yes, but it's not your words that got me the most. It's the way you broke my logic, and helped me see things from a new perspective." He stated, "It felt… nice, to be understood by you." He rubs the nape of his neck, "Well, what about you? Why do you like me?"

"I'm not sure." You pucker your lips, "I think I've always liked you. Because you're thoughtful, and it's something that's easier to say than done."

"Just that?"

"What? You want more?"

"Yeah," He smirked, "Go on."

You look at him long and hard, before you decide, "No."

"Why?"

"I'd say something embarrassing."

"Like what?"

"... I'm not telling."

He jumps on the sofa as he seizes your body. You squeal when he digs his fingers on your waists, and you shout, "Cut it out!"

He chuckles when you try to slap his hand away and fail, "C'mon, tell me." He grins, while his hands don't stop tickling you.

"Stop—I'm not telling—!"

When he had you pinned down, you kicked around to get him off you. Which, unfortunately, ends up knocking the empty glass on the table. You both watch in horror as the glass falls off the surface, and into the floor.

But it doesn't shatter. Instead, it bounces twice, before it rolls in a half circle. When it stops moving, it takes about five seconds before the two of you burst into laughter.

"That's the second time you almost broke it."

"Sorry." You muttered through your giggle, "But whose fault was it?"

"Me." He grinned, before slowly bent down to kiss you.

Just like the other kisses you've shared, it goes on for more than a minute. He gently guides you as he cups your cheeks. Your arms find their way around his neck, and keep him close to you.

He leans his forehead against yours, as he catches his breath. You observed the way his chest rises and falls while you follow the same rhythm. Maybe you soften at the sight of him, or maybe a kiss'd really loosen up someone's tongue, that's why the words fall out of your mouth so easily.

"I like your kisses."

He raises his head as he turns his gaze on you. "Was that the thing you're embarrassed to admit?"

You give his shoulder a punch.

"Hey." He retorted with a chuckle, "'M just kidding."

He presses his lips on your cheek, before he lays down on your side. You shift your body to give him space, and settle your head on his arm, while the other one is wrapped around you.

"Comfy?"

You nod, "You're warm."

"Glad to be your heater."

You bury your face into his chest as you giggle.

"I just wish you're portable," You jest, "So I could use you whenever I'm cold."

"Who says I'm not portable?"

"Well, you can't be with me 24/7."

"Careful what you wish for." He smirked.

You raise your brow at him, "Is that a warning?"

"Maybe."

"Mmm," You rested your finger on your chin, "Didn't sound like one."

"Really?" He teases, "Then you won't mind if I keep you here for the night."

"I'm busy tomorrow, so no." You hold your chuckle when you see him pout, "But I'm free next weekend, you can keep me until Monday if you want."

A glint of mischief crosses his eyes, as he pulls you into a kiss.

"I can't wait."

But waiting doesn't feel longer than you expect, since you meet him for dinner almost everyday. If one of you couldn't make it, you both would be on the call that night.

Talking has been a part of your relationship, even when the two of you still carried the friends title. You could talk with him for hours, and bring up every topic into it. Doesn't matter how random or strange. But there was a line that you both couldn't cross, something that kept the two of you in circles. And you thought it'd stay that way, until you stepped into the other side.

It's a wonder how a familial issue could push your relationship to this point, since you wouldn't think twice about him for the sake of friendship. Now that you've crossed the line, you have nothing to hide from him.

While it might be a good thing, it also leads you to unknown territories. When you're with him, you can no longer ignore the tension that fills the room. Any time that he kissed you, or held you tight in his arms, you couldn't help but think if this would be it. This would be the right time for it. But you couldn't bring yourself to ask.

Maybe that's the reason why—after the 2:01:31 mark on the call, you bring up the obvious question to light.

"Y'know Ky," You start, "I don't have much experience with sex, and neither do you. So how exactly are we gonna do it?"

The line goes silent for a moment, before you hear him draw a breath in. "Are you afraid it'll hurt?"

"No—I mean, yes. But that's not my point." You sigh, "I just—I don't know, I feel like I need to learn about it before getting to the act."

There's a subtle hint of a rustle that you could only guess coming from the papers, "It'll definitely help if we do some research beforehand."

"But where do we start?" You asked, "Porn?"

"I wouldn't recommend that. It's… unrealistic."

"What then? 'A guide to sex' book? 'Sex for dummies'?"

You catch the sound of his chuckle from the speaker. "Only grandmas would read that."

"I would read that if it helps me prepare."

He hums, and your ear picks up the sound of clink, like a metal is placed against a wood. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"How far have you gone with your partner in the past?"

You hum as you think back, "I think I stopped at heavy petting. I was in high school back then and I was curious. But it hurted, and I was bleeding after the session." You snort when you recall the moment, "Of course I freaked out, but when I secretly tested myself out, I found that I'm still a virgin. I could only guess that he tore something with his nail. That's why I bled."

"I see."

"What about you?" You asked, "How far have you gotten with it?"

"Same as you." He responded, "Fingering, oral, hand job, all the foreplay stuff."

You bite your lip as you hear his tone becomes heavier with each word, something that you notice whenever you dive into a risky topic.

"Should we give it a try?"

There's a pause from the other side of the call, before you receive a reply. "You sure you want it?"

"Yes." You breathe out, "We gotta start somewhere."

Your fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, as you wait for him to answer.

"Alright." He mused, and you felt the warmth creeping up from your lower belly. "Is the plan still on?"

"What plan?"

"You staying over for the weekend?"

You smile against the phone as you reply, "Of course."

"I'll be waiting then."

Friday evening, you arrive at his door with a bag of clothes and other necessities. When the bell rings, it takes about three seconds before the door swings open.

He greets you in the usual manner, except this time he speaks in a softer tone.

"Hey." He smiles upon seeing you, "Come in."

He steps aside when you walk in, before he takes the bag from your hand. You mutter a small 'thank you', and wait for him in the living room while he puts your things aside.

"You want something to drink?" He offered, but you shook your head.

"I'm fine."

You watch him come near you, before he bends down to his knees. You raise your brows when he tugs your hand towards him, and presses a kiss onto your palm.

"Can we talk?"

"About what?" You asked.

"Your boundaries." He squeezed your hand gently, "What's your preferences, what you're not comfortable with,"

"Oh." You look down to your lap to hide your blush, "I don't have any preference yet, I think." You shrug, "I have to experience it to know what I like or dislike, but I think I'm fine with everything you do. Just… don't treat me rough, because I don't think I can handle it."

"Wouldn't dream of hurting you." He pecks on your cheek. "Come,"

You stand from your seat as he pulls you up, and your body follows him naturally as he drags you with him. As he closes the bedroom door behind, your heart leaps when he lifts you up with his arms to kiss you. Your legs wrap around his waist, while you keep your hands on his chest.

When he lays you down on the bed, you push his body away for a little as you mumble, "My, aren't you eager."

He observes your face before he chuckles, "You don't know how long I've waited for this."

You moan when he presses his kiss on your neck, and you feel his hand slip under your garment. Soon, the elastic band of your underwear is dragged down on your skin, and you instinctively close your thighs together.

"Let me taste you, (Name)."

He tugs your pants down until they reach your ankles, he takes his time to unhook them from your feet, before pushing your legs apart. You call his name as a protest, but any attempt to cover yourself from him is useless.

"Ky—" You stare at him wide-eyed as he lowers his head to your core, to the point that you can feel his breath against your labia. Your body tenses up when he gets the first taste of you, before he buries his tongue into your core.

"Tell me if I hurt you." He told you, and waited until you nodded to continue.

You gasp when he presses his tongue against your clit—not out of pleasure, but foreign feeling as the rough texture of his tongue latches on your nub. Your hand shoots up to grab his hair, while your legs clamp on his head. He grunts when you squirm away, and links his arms around your thighs to keep you still.

At first, you only feel a strange sensation every time his tongue swipes against your bundle of nerves, but soon it builds up into a familiar surge. Warmth begins to spread from your lower region, and you muffle a moan when he flicks his tongue on your sensitive clit.

"Ky—!" You hissed when it hit the right spot, "Keep going—"

Your hips bucks involuntarily as he sucks on the swelling bud, it sends an electricity through your body, before his lips detach from you. You whine at the loss of contact, but it doesn't take a second before his elastic muscle returns to its previous place.

The grip on his hair tightens as he picks up the pace, and soon the pleasure starts to coil inside your stomach. Your brows are knitted as you focus on his tongue, chasing after the high that's been hanging in front of you. It's not until you tilt your hips, that you finally reach it.

You cry out as your back arches, your eyes snap open as the wave of pleasure hits you. It was different, more satisfying than what you did on lonely nights. As you slowly come down, your body relaxes under his touch.

When he reaches up to kiss you, you chuckle as you taste yourself from his lips. "And you told me you're a virgin." You mused.

"I don't need to lose it to be good at oral."

You roll your eyes and hold him off by his chest, "Yeah right."

He seems taken aback when you push him to the side, before straddling him between your legs. Your hands work on his pants, as you loosen up the drawstring. "What are you doing?" He muttered out.

"Returning the favor." You replied with a smirk, while you tugged down his pants.

You've seen the outline of his member when he's still dressed, but now that you strip him off, you finally get the full view of it.

You sense his gaze on you as you stare at his cock. Your hand reaches out to touch the tip, and it twitches under your fingertips.

"Are you just gonna stare?"

"Patience." You shot him a teasing look, "I was just admiring."

He props himself up to watch you bend down, taking his length into your mouth. You look at him through your lashes, as you slowly drag your tongue along the shaft. Your fingers wrap around his base, and begin to give it a pump.

His breath becomes shallower with each stroke of your hand, while you wrap your lips around his cock. The tip feels hot on your tongue, as if it's filled with impatience. He groans as you sink your mouth deeper, "Keep going, baby."

You perk up at the nickname he used, but it needs to wait before you can bring it up to him, since your mouth is occupied at the moment.

He places a hand on your head, and runs his fingers through your hair before they settle on your crown. You grunt when he begins to rock his hips gently, while his hand gives you no room to pull back. He's careful enough not to push too deep, but he still overwhelms you.

"That's it—" He panted, brows knitted together as he focused on you. "Fuck—"

His heavy breath, his gentle grip on your hair send warmth through your body. It's not the first time you've done this, but it's the only time you felt desired. He's eager, but he's careful at the same time. He doesn't rush things, he fixates on the moment instead. When you place your hand on his thigh, he slows down as he loosens up his grip on you.

"You alright?"

You nod before you pull away from him.

"I want to ride you."

His brows are raised as you climb on top of him, slowly lowering yourself onto his lap. He takes a sharp breath when your core touches the base of his member, leaving a wet trail as you grind on him. You hear a quiet groan from his sighs, and it becomes heavier each time you pick up the pace.

You bite your lip as you feel your core throb at the sight beneath you. The way his head digs into the pillow, half-lidded eyes and panting, and the way his muscles tense as he chases after pleasure. His hands settle on your waists, keeping you from moving too far from the right spot. Your breath comes out as a huff when the friction starts to get to you. It almost feels real, as if he's really inside you.

"I'm close." He chokes out a moan, and you feel his fingers dig into your skin. "(Name)—"

Your lips curl into a grin when you hear the urgency in his voice. You lean down to kiss him, and he eagerly returns the favor. You grunt against his mouth, as you struggle to move with his arms wrapped tightly around you. But he doesn't seem to mind the erratic pace, since his hips move on its own.

His body shudders and he throws his head back as he groans, loud enough that you can feel his chest rumble through your palms. His member twitches against your core, spilling the white release onto both of your and his clothes. It takes a moment for him before he registers your lips on his neck, which he tilts his head and leans his cheek against yours.

"That was…"

"Good?" You grinned as you gave him a kiss.

"Great. Amazing. Ten out of ten." He chuckles, "Are you sure you're a virgin?"

You playfully pinch his cheek while you laugh, "Shut up."

He shoots you a coy smile, before he gently rolls you down with him on the bed.

"We should take a bath."

"Later." He muttered, wrapping one arm around you.

"Come on." You protested while tugging his hand off you, "We can cuddle after that."

"Fine," He lets you go, "Let's take a shower."

And he said it in a not-so-innocent voice.

The two of you end up prolonging the bath time, as he's taking you for a second round. If he's eager the first time, the second time must be worse. Since he's got the taste of it. You knew that he's exceptional, that he's a quick-learner, but you didn't expect it'd apply to sex as well.

The thing is, you never came with fingers alone. But when he cornered you in the shower, knuckles-deep in your core, he had you screaming as the sweet shock from the orgasm went through your body. He doesn't give you much of a break, as he bends you down until your ass touches his hip. You gasp in horror when you feel the tip of his dick against your drenched hole, he teasingly rubs himself on your labia, before it slips down to your clit.

He had your thighs pressed together, which made the friction even stiffer. You groan as he begins to thrust, hitting your throbbing bud everytime without mercy. He pins both of your wrists against the wall with one hand, while he keeps your body still with the other. It's almost unfair how strong he is to hold you down like this, and how cruel he is to tease you as he whispers dirty words into your ear. By the time you come, you have no energy left, even for standing.

He catches you right before your legs give up, holding you up while he sneaks a hand under the back of your thighs. You yelp when he props you up in his arms, carrying you out of the bathroom.

You land on the bed with a bounce, and receive no privilege to get up as he holds your legs together, before placing them against his shoulder. The color in your face is drained the moment his length rests on your thigh, fervent and heavy.

"I hope you're not tired yet," He grins, and you swear you see horns growing from his head the moment he says it, "Because I'm nowhere done with you."

—

Kyle Fucking Garrick.

You take back what you said about his middle name. It's not kind or thoughtful, it's fucking Prick.

It should've been obvious to you, after all the gossip you heard from your friends about him. Something that you thought as a baseless fact, a Lavater-physiognomy type of bullshit, but somehow they got it right. He's not as innocent as you defended him to be. He is freaky, and he's good at keeping it a secret.

After he exhausted you the night before, he decided that the best way to wake you up was with his mouth. Your clit was already swollen from yesterday's activity, and he abused it again in the morning. You stirred in your sleep, before your eyes snapped open at the sharp tug on your sensitive bud.

"G'mornin'." He greeted you the moment you woke up, still disoriented. "How's your sleep?"

You narrowed your eyes, as you tried to turn your vision focused. "Wha—" You slurred.

"Shh." He pushed you down to the bed, while his hand worked its way to your fold. "Let me take care of you, baby."

And thus you started your day with an orgasm.

Of course it's only the beginning, since it's him that you're talking about. He could make you faint in the bathroom if you didn't lock the door behind, and he could certainly numb your mind with his fingers if you didn't cut two apples for breakfast. But once you ran out of excuses, you're pretty much doomed.

While you knew he'd stop right away if you told him so, you couldn't bring yourself to say it. Because once he puts his hand on you, you just melt. The irritation that you carry in mind dissolves the moment he wraps you in his arms, and every curse you hold on your tongue comes out as a whimper, as his mouth latches onto your nape.

It's a game of self-will, and he plays it underhandedly. You both know what you want, but no one speaks of it, no one takes the initiative. You grit your teeth as frustration begins to take over you. It's pretty clear he wants you to say it, with the excuse that it's yours to decide. But he lures you with sweet words, and waves your much-needed release in front of you. Close enough for you to see, but far away from your reach.

And finally, after three neglected orgasms, you swallow your ego and beg. "Please Ky—" You cried out, "Please, just fuck me—"

His hand ceases to move, as he pulls it out of your sopping core. You whine at the loss of contact, before he muffles it with his kiss.

The trip to his bedroom is quite messy, with a lot of thrown clothes and sloppy kisses. When you find yourself on his bed again, you crawl up to give him some space. He follows after you, and presses his lips against yours with impatience. Faintly, you hear the sound of a wrapper being ripped, before he pulls away to roll down the rubber on his length.

He comes back to your side, locking his lips with yours again, while he slots his hips between your legs. Your hands find the purchase on his back as you cling to him, digging your fingers into his skin the moment you feel his tip against your hole.

A gasp escapes your lips when he pushes himself in, stretching your pussy open with his dick.

"Shit, you're too tight." He hissed, as your walls tightened around his glans.

Your face contorts in pain, as he tries to squeeze himself deeper.

"No good." He mused, pulling himself out of you. You whimper as your hole clenches around nothing. "On your side, baby."

He gently rolls you to the side, sliding his arm below your head as he lays behind you. He places a hand under your cheek, and guides your lips back to his. You wince when you feel the nudge against your core, before it slowly sinks deeper into you.

It doesn't hurt much, compared to what you endured earlier. But it still stings, and you smack your palm against his hip when he begins to thrust. "Ky—" You moaned against his lips, gripping onto his skin as you felt yourself stuffed to the brim.

"Just a little more, baby." He places a kiss on your shoulder, while his hands find their way to wrap around your body. "Just a little more."

No words could form in your tongue, as your mouth snaps open at the steady thrust of his cock. It was slow, torturous, and left you wondering if you've underestimated his size.

But it soon comes to a stop, as his lower stomach touches the curve of your bottom. Your heart is beating against your chest, and you try to catch your breath while he showers you with kisses. The push of his hips comes to a halt, and you take it as a chance to rest. You lean your head back to his shoulder, giving him access to your neck, which he soon decorates with love marks.

"You alright?" He murmured, tenderly stroked your arm.

You hum as an answer. "You can move now."

"You sure?"

"Yes." You breathe out, "Please."

You sense a hesitation in his touch, before he presses a kiss on your temple.

"Tell me if it hurts."

You nod, giving his forearm a squeeze as a reassurance.

He shifts your body closer to him, readjusting the position to make it more comfortable. You raise your head a bit while he moves, before he guides you back to his arm. A grunt escapes your lips the moment he drags his member out, before he thrusts it back in. Your core flutters around him, as the numbness slowly fades into pleasure.

Perhaps your body is still sensitive from all the teasing he did, but you can't deny that he's good. Every stroke of his cock just hits right, as it grazes you in the place where his fingers couldn't reach. You grip his arm when you feel his pace quickens, filling the room with the wet slaps of the skins. And when his tip nudges the tender part of you, your body reacts in a way you don't expect.

He seems to notice it, as he lifts his head up to see your face. "Does that feel good?" He whispered in your ear, and you yelped when he snapped his hips against yours.

"Oh God—" You scrabble at his body, trying to find something to grab on. "Do that again."

"Gladly."

A warning comes up to your throat, before it dies down as soon as he moves. You squirm against his strong grip, digging your nails into his thigh like a claw machine. When his cock grazes the right spot within you, you cry out a strangled moan. And the second time he does it, the suspicions you had in mind are all erased. He's no longer teasing you, because now he really intends to make you scream.

When he rolls on top of you, you feel your legs being spread apart with his knees. Stretching your pussy open for him to go deeper. With him on top of you, and your stomach flat on the bed, you have no room to crawl away.

His hand snakes around your shoulder, propping you up into a half-arched position. A whimper comes out of your mouth the moment he slams himself into you, while his lips are busy with your neck. Niping and sucking on your reddening skin. Your hand reaches up to the back of his head, gripping the curls of his hair as you moan.

"I'm close." You hissed, "Kyle—"

"I know, baby." He presses a kiss on your nape, "I know."

He raises your hips slightly, before slipping his hand between your thighs. Your body jerks when he touches your clit, rubbing it in a circle motion. The fact that it's already swollen doesn't help you either.

"Ky!" You claw his hand in panic, "I can't—I can't—"

"You can." He grunted against your ear, "Let it go, baby."

Your grip on his wrist tightens, as every muscle in your body tenses up. You could barely hold it when he fucked you slow, and now with his finger on your clit, you just break.

A loud cry fills the room as you come. Hard. Your eyes roll up, hands gripping tightly on the sheet until your fists turn pale. And for a moment, you forgot how to breathe, until you gasped for air. Which comes in the form of short and trembling puffs. The moment of bliss and numbness only descends for short seconds, before you realize he's still inside you.

The burning sensation in your core comes back to you, although weaker than before. You whimper against the sheet, as he prolongs the high you just reached. His fingers no longer slotted between your folds, as they move to grip your waist. In daze, you begin to wonder when it'll end. Until you feel a shudder from the body on top of you, and a strangled moan falls from his mouth.

He rests his head on you, catching a breath, before he slowly rolls down to the side. You watch him as he wearily pulls off the condom, and throws it aside.

The two of you lay down still, mustering the energy that's left after the laborious session. Although you doubt if it's the same case for him, since he has no trouble getting up to fetch the tissue box.

As he wipes himself off, you mutter out with a low voice, "You've ruined me for other men."

He turns his head to you, before a grin spreads on his face. "Already thought about leaving?"

You know from his tone that he's not serious, but neither of you can carry the usual banter. At least not now.

"You know what I mean." You mused.

His face softens, as he bends down to kiss you. "I know."

You smile against his lips, and carefully shift your body until you lay on your back. He climbs on top of you, planting each arm on your side as he latches his lips on yours. You reach up to cup his face, pulling him closer as you part your lips, giving his tongue the access to dive into your mouth deeper. The two of you relish in each other's taste, before you feel something on your thigh.

"You're hard." You let slip what you saw, and he flushed.

"Sorry." He rubbed his neck, "You just… turn me on."

You observe his face for a moment, noting how he avoids your eyes whenever he's shy. His expression, and his candid confession set something in you, as you feel the warmth in your lower belly.

"I think we can go one more time."

"Aren't you tired?"

"A little." You replied, "But it's nothing I can't handle."

His eyes search into yours for a second, before he gives in.

"Alright." He uttered, "Let me grab the condom."

—

Now that you've gotten the taste of it, you can understand why sex is often called forbidden apple. Because once you put your teeth to it, you can't go back to what you're used to. No more friendly cuddles, and no more innocent kisses that won't lead to something.

While it's easy to get swept up in the new pastime, you can't help but worry. As a lot of 'what if's fill your thoughts. You never doubt him, no. But you'll never know what the future's like. For you and him.

One day, when the two of you lounge on the couch—with your head on his chest, as it rises and falls in a slowing rhythm, you divulge a question that's been eating you up.

"What if it doesn't work?" You brood, "What if he still wants to marry me despite of everything?"

You watch the subtle change in his face as he meets your gaze. "Do you want me to come along?"

"No," You muse, "It'll make things worse."

He hums, "Have you talked to your parents?"

"... No." You looked away, as you chewed on your lip. "No, I haven't."

"I think you should." He gives your arm a squeeze, "Talk to them, maybe they'll help you."

"They didn't help me at all." You said bitterly.

"You wouldn't know that, (Name)." He let out a quiet sigh, "Parents don't usually tell what they've done for their children. And that could be the case with yours."

"They didn't stop the engagement."

"Maybe they couldn't." He replied, "Hey, look at me." He gently pulls you to face him, "I know it's hard for you, and I can't imagine how you feel about it. But your parents love you, you said it yourself." He reassured you, "Maybe they didn't stop it because they're powerless, but they knew that you'd find a way out. After all, they're the one who told you about the ceremony, right?"

While you're still frowning at him, you begin to soften up in his hold. "... Yeah, they did." You muttered.

"They knew that you're against it and you'd deliberately failed one of the tests, so they just told you what to do and what you shouldn't. It's their way to tell you which one to break, and which one you should keep in mind." He sighs, "And I hate to say it, but I'd do the same if it's the only choice I have."

Though his words have put you at ease, you can't help but sense a new doubt entering your mind. "Will they… will they be okay if I fail the test? Won't it give them a bad name?"

"I think it's the risk they're willing to take." He smiled softly, "Talk to them, (Name). You need it."

You follow his advice two days later.

You've been mulling over the talk for days, going through all of the possibilities over and over again in your mind. You've prepared for a whole speech, but it all disappears once you hear their voices. Just like that, all of your thought falls from your mouth, as they flow out like a stream.

There's a lot of talking, a lot of 'sorry's, and maybe a few of tears. But in the end, you feel better.

As the conversation slips into a mundane, but comfortable chat, you slip his name between your life update. Though you have your doubts about it, it's worth telling in spite of all.

"You should introduce him to us." Your mother chirped, "Bring him with you the next holiday, I want to meet the lucky fellow."

You chuckle as you tell her alright, but no promise.

Four days later, on the evening at the airport, you reach up to kiss him before you say the words. You almost laugh at how easy it was, to say such words with such ease. And he'd laugh with you, if he wasn't struck by it.

"I thought you're afraid to use that word."

"Not anymore." You said with a smile, "Not with you."

He seems confounded for a moment, before he shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear.

"I hope you won't regret it, because I'll say that to you everyday from now on."

"Well, why don't you start now?"

You both chuckle, before he wraps his hands around you and pulls you into another kiss.

"I love you, (Name).

"Come home to me soon."

#it's finally DONEEEEE #alright. I'm officially done with long fics #it's not healthy for my sleep schedule #gaz cod #gaz mw2 #cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #i'm too lazy to tag more #enjoy

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nothingbutsweetwords · 1 day

Text

ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢᴛʜᴇʀ

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

"...ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇʀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ ᴍʏ ʜᴀɴᴅ, ɪᴛ'ꜱ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ."

Word count: 4,300.

Fandom: House of the Dragon.

Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Velaryon!Niece.

MEETING - 2. Him.

Several nights had passed since he made his way to his father's chambers, who had summoned him. He vividly remembered the journey through the corridors of the keep, walking with a stupid smile on his face. Except for his racing heart, there was no evidence of his passage through the pit, as the water had taken care to erase them.

He was heading towards his destination without any idea, eager to share his new adventure and see his father's face change when he discovered that he was not a lost cause, like his brother. He truly possessed the potential and courage to fill him with pride if only he was given the chance.

Viserys had always been more focused on his elder sister, a reality he fully understood; after all, she would eventually occupy the throne. While Alicent had been too busy all the time, immersed in concerns, striving to cover Aegon mistakes at every turn.

However, the meeting with his father was anything but expected, worse, even. His mother had beaten him to it and had let him know the situation beforehand. He received nothing but a sermon, and Viserys let him go without even a gesture of affection, with a heavy heart and his eyes glassy from holding back tears.

He did not expect to be placed at the top of the priority list, although he wanted it with all his being. It was known that, as a second son, he could not expect it, but he did not think it was too much to ask for a minimum dose of attention and affection.

It seemed to be his destiny; his expectations always soared above reality, and he knew that he had to learn to accept it, for there was no one else hurt but himself. But how would he now abandon them, if she seemed willing to answer all his pleas? Or to stop his naive imagination, if she seemed determined to shame the image he had forged of her? Or to stop being a believer, if her delicate hand continued to bless him with caresses? How would he calm the beats of his racing heart if she continued to look at him and listen to him like no one ever had? As if he were brave, important, cherished.

She approached him with the grace of someone who doesn't know that's fulfilling desires that had inhabited his mind for so many nights, preventing him from thinking of anything else. He had so longed for this. While in his fantasies it had been him who took the initiative, at this moment the detail seemed as trivial as every unaccomplished aspiration he had harbored before.

A fleeting regret overwhelmed him as he realized that his excitement had prevented him from behaving with the chivalry he longed to demonstrate. His words flowed ceaselessly, revealing everything he had always wanted to share in each previous encounter. And now, they had to part ways. What if the next day her curiosity and interest faded? What if she considered him an idiotic and insipid egomaniac who did nothing but talk about himself?

"Forgive me, niece, I must have tired your ears," he muttered, his head bowed, before rising from his seat, "and I didn't ask about your stories; you must think me rude." He avoided meeting her gaze, fearful of finding confirmation of his words. However, he heard her melodious laughter once again, an echo that ignited his hope and relieved him.

"Not at all, I would have liked to keep listening to you. Besides, I don’t have stories as brave as yours, and I wouldn't want to bore you to exhaustion" she replied.

A latent worry gnawed at him; hopefully, having worn a mask to hide his emotions and thoughts from her for so long wouldn't allow her to glimpse the authentic feelings overflowing within him.

He reached the exit and, as he grasped the knob, said sincerely, "I do not think that's possible" his gaze trying to convey the truthfulness of his words.

He opened the door and waited for her to leave. Never before had he gathered the courage to engage in direct conversation with her; he had then preferred to demonstrate his intentions through other gestures. As long as he was present in the room, he would not allow a simple guard to open her door or escort her to her chambers.

They bid farewell with the promise of meeting again the next day, and he had the sensation that the night slid by with the most exasperating slowness he had ever experienced.

Each conversation was like a new chapter, a story filled with complicity and companionship. He proposed question games, and she accepted with a sparkle in her eyes. His mind seemed insatiable for information about her, and it was no surprise; after all, each answer added brilliance to the gem he was uncovering. Enchanted by her curiosity too, he revealed parts of himself that he had never shared before.

It was something new and refreshing to have someone who seemed to share the same ambitions and with whom he could express his darkest fears and boldest dreams. Every word and shared anecdote created a bridge between their worlds, one he eagerly sought to reinforce every day.

"What would you have liked your dragon to be like?" she asked. It no longer hurt him to have these conversations, he had grown accustomed to them, as she loved them. Always telling him the stories of the ancient ones and their brave riders, showing her fondness to one in particular. And lately, he had found that they gave him more determination to one day claim his own.

"I never really imagined it" he replied. They were both sitting face to face by the window, their knees touching and their gazes contemplating the sea, with its gentle murmur in the background. "But one big enough to carry two riders would be just perfect for me." She offered him a smile, understanding the longing for a new companion to take them both to new horizons.

"Can I tell you something?" he had said after a long silence. His voice trembled slightly, his vulnerability showing.

"Of course you can" she replied, turning gently to face him.

"I..." he took a deep breath, confessed, "I lied to you the other day."

"About what?" she asked, curiosity on her face as she awaited the revelation.

"When you asked if I was scared in the pit," he said, ashamed, "the truth is, I had never felt more terrified in my entire life." He sought her eyes, prepared to face the disappointment covering her delicate face.

She settled in, resting her face on her knees and looking into his eyes with tenderness, she said, "anyone would have been, my prince." She put another small smile. "You were brave to go in, and clever to come out." A wave of calm washed over him as he listened to her. "But do not feel the need to lie" she added, gently. "We're in a safe place." He nodded, grateful for her words, feeling the weight of his confession dissipate in the light of her understanding.

They had found a shelter there in the library; her warmth and tenderness had brought those corners to life, turning them magical, where entire afternoons and evenings slipped away unhurriedly, filling the place with whispers, laughter, and secrets. Where the books, once so revered, began to be less and less present. It was just them and their hearts laid bare, open like pages waiting to be read.

"I was planning on skipping my class tomorrow" she confessed as they walked arm in arm to the door of her chamber, "I'm not as good as Helaena embroidering, and I'm tired of pricking all my fingers." He laughed, sensing her frustration. "Maybe I could sneak into the training yard… and watch you?" she suggested timidly.

"Do you think they'll let you in? It's not exactly a place for ladies" he warned.

"I'll find a way." A spontaneous smile lit up her face, pulling at her lips.

"Then you'll always be welcome, my princess" he affirmed. She kissed his cheek goodbye and entered the room without saying more. He silently thanked that she hadn't turned back before closing the door, because she would have seen his clumsy gesture. His hand, futilely, over his heart, trying to keep it from escaping his body and follow her.

He felt renewed during the training, radiating spirits never seen before, and a spark of energy burned inside him. Saturated with excitement and anxiety that prevented him from focusing on anything other than the gates of the yard, his eyes fixed on them, awaiting her arrival.

Ser Criston fell silent when his nephews took their turn practicing with the straw dummies. This routine was nothing new to him, but he had never given it much importance until he heard Aegon whisper maliciously.

"Did you know that Cole used to be Rhaenyra's protector?" His brother's words hung in the air, laden with an insinuation he couldn't quite grasp.

"So?" A pang of intrigue stirred him.

"I heard the idiot was in love with her and she rejected him" he continued amidst laughter, "I bet that's why he hates the little bastards."

A furrowed brow was his only response at the moment. Though he was still too young to fully comprehend the weight of the words, he caught their meaning. Could it be true? Aegon didn't seem like the most reliable source, but he still planted a seed of doubt in his head.

Of course, he had noticed the visible difference between the young Velaryons and their parents, but it didn't seem really rare to him. Not every child was the livid image of their parents.

He cared little for an insult directed at his nephews, who, like his elder brother, constantly sought ways to hurt him with jokes that were never funny. But this blow reached someone else. Someone he cared about.

"Do not say that" he warned, trying to quell his doubt.

The taller one looked down at him, puzzled. "Why not? It's the truth, just look at them" he insisted.

Before he could respond, the knight overseeing the training interrupted. "Princes, your turn" he announced, his hands clasped behind his back, his face stern and his authority unwavering.

"Come on, brother! The Pink Dread deserves to be ridden by a good warrior" escaped his brother's mouth, followed by his nephews' laughter. However, amidst the noise, a warm presence enveloped him, and he vowed not to let them ruin his day or steal his motivation.

She gave him a smile from across the yard before stooping to plant a kiss on Viserys's cheek, who, seated, watched everything attentively from the steps.

With determination, he took the wooden sword and, gathering all the concentration he could muster, immersed himself in the practice.

"Soften your knees" Ser Criston told him. "Keep your feet light and your hands heavy."

"This is the stuff, Lyonel" the king told the big man to his right. "Lads that learn together, train together. Knock each other down, pick each other up. They will certainly form a lifelong bond, wouldn’t you agree?" He said with a smile. Little did he know.

"That is the hope, Your Grace" the hand responded.

"Don't stand too upright, my prince, or you'll get knocked down." He adjusted his posture and continued to sword the mannequins.

The yard was filled with grunts, the sound of wood clashing against the straw created a symphony of skill, and the air was imbued with effort.

Once agitated, they turned to exchange places again, but Aegon lingered, his gaze following the sway of two servants passing through.

"Aegon" Cole scolded. He couldn't understand how his brother could have so little shame and respect.

The accused returned his attention to the training field. "I won my first bout, Ser Criston, my opponent sues for mercy" he declared with his usual lack of seriousness and a mocking smile on his face.

"Well, you’ll have a new opponent then, my lord of the straw" Criston retorted, turning to retrieve his black leather gloves and another wooden sword. "Let's see if you can touch me, you and your brother." He sighed and silently cursed his older brother, heading towards them. He didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of her, but backing down was not an option.

They began to fight simultaneously, trying to attack Criston from both sides, but he seemed undisturbed. Standing still, he effortlessly deflected every blow that came his way.

"You're gonna have to do better than that" his opponent said firmly.

He began to grow impatient, swinging the sword without any strategy, his breath ragged, showing the fatigue that already engulfed him. In the blink of an eye, both were on the ground, exhausted and defeated. He got up and leaned against the large table, trying to normalize his breathing.

"Weapons up, boys, don't give your enemies no quarter" Lord Commander Harwin Strong ordered, directing his words to the younger ones. Aegon nudged him in the shoulder, indicating that he should pay attention. "It seems the younger boys could do better with a bit of your attention, Ser Criston."

Both men exchanged challenging glances before Criston asked, "You question my method of instruction, ser?"

"Oh, I merely suggest that method be applied to all your pupils."

"Very well."

Jacaerys appeared grateful for the intervention, a smile briefly gracing his face, but it quickly faded when Criston roughly grabbed him by his metal breastplate, positioning him in front of Aegon, who watched all with amusement. He turned towards the stairs and upon seeing her face, he found concern. He tried to offer her a reassuring look, but she did not move her eyes from her twin.

"Eldest son against eldest son," declared the guard, initiating a new challenge.

"It's hardly a fair match" Lord Strong pointed out, indicating the clear disparity in strength.

"I know you've never seen true battle, ser, but when steel is drawn, a fair match isn’t something anyone should expect" he said. Once they were in position, he instructed: "Blades up. Engage."

Aegon crossed the field and violently lunged at his opponent. It only took him a moment to throw him to the ground. A laugh escaped his lips, inevitable given the clear injustice. His older brother not only towered over him and outweighed him, but he had also had more training time than Jacaerys. He called an end to the match, a mistake born of his narcissism, as Jace still held his sword. Turning his back disdainfully, Aegon was caught off guard by his nephew, who skillfully disarmed him. The elder grabbed the straw dummy and hurled it at his opponent, in a desperate attempt to stop him.

"Foul play!" shouted the commander, his voice resonating with indignation.

"I deal with him." Both men took hold of their respective fighters, pulling them apart to offer them their expert advice.

"You!" shouted Aegon, his face furious. His pride tarnished by letting his nephew outmaneuver him and embarrass him.

"Close with him" Criston said, guiding Aegon every step of the way. "Press him backwards. Stay on the attack." Jace was cornered against the wall, with no escape. "Use your feet!" A question crept into his mind as he observed everything, would his brother be capable of winning without trickery and instructions? A kick found Jace's chest, leaving him breathless on the ground. "Don't let him get up." he ordered.

His nephew fought with all his might, but it was in vain. Aegon managed to disarm him and prepared to deliver the final blow, intended solely to injure him, as the battle had already concluded when the younger was left empty-handed.

"Enough!" Harwin shouted, intervening and grabbing Aegon from behind, pushing him away.

“You dare put hands on me?" his brother roared in response, indignation palpable in every word.

"Aegon!" called Viserys, noticing his son's exaggeration.

"You forget your place, Strong. That's the prince."

"Is this what you teach, Cole? Cruelty towards the weaker opponent?" Harwin inquired as he gathered the swords to put them back in their rightful place. Jacaerys got up and went to his younger brother's side, shielding him with his back. When the Lord Commander passed by Cole, the latter threw his sword at his feet. Challenging him. Provoking him. He walked past, determined not to fall into the trap.

"Your interest in the princelings training is quite unusual, Commander" he began, his expression drawn. "Most men would only have that kind of devotion towards a cousin, or a brother..." noticing the direction the conversation was taking, he looked worriedly towards her. Lyonel Strong was trying to persuade the young princess to return inside the keep, but those pleas fell on deaf ears. "Or a son" Criston concluded.

Without warning, Harwin lunged towards Cole, knocking him down. Blows filled the air as the commander unleashed his anger on the guard beneath him, shouting thunderously, "Say it again." Blood flowed from the guard's nose, most likely broken, just like his lip, as he lay with his back against the rocks. "Say it again."

"What are you waiting for? Take her away!" the king's exasperated voice was heard, ordering the guards to intervene and search for the princess. He felt the urge to move towards her, but a circle of guards formed around him, enclosing him with his brother and nephews, ready to defend them in case Harwin Strong misdirected his wrath.

Jace recognized his twin's desperate voice, calling out for them. He took Lucerys's hand and quickly broke free from the guards, running towards her. He tried to follow, but Aegon stopped him with a hand on his chest.

By the time they managed to separate Harwin from his victim, the princess was nowhere to be found. "Say it again" he screamed once more, as the guards struggled to restrain him.

"Look at him" Aegon said, nodding towards Cole's limp body on the ground. He heard him mutter something, but couldn't discern the words, then he spat blood from his mouth, with a triumphant gesture.

In the days following the intense training, his heart beat with the hope of seeing her again, but his princess seemed to have disappeared into the shadows. Perhaps she didn't desire company, still haunted by the grotesque images that had wounded her eyes in the yard, or too saddened by the news. Harwin Strong, dismissed from the king's guard and sent back to Harrenhal, where the towers stood as silent witnesses to the tragedies that occurred there.

He had searched every room she frequented and every nook of the keep, in vain. She seemed to have vanished into thin air. He walked through the shared hallway, his eyes eagerly searching for the door that separated their worlds, hoping to see her open it and come his way.

The void left by her absence was palpable, stripping the soul of the library along with her, depriving it of all warmth and charm.

A new feeling invaded him, threatening to take root in the depths of his being. Has it all been a fleeting dream? He needed to see her face and make sure it had all been real, that she was still real and not just an echo in his memory.

He decided to seek solace in his sister, hoping her company could distract him from his unease or illuminate him with her usual riddles. The guard announced his arrival, and as he entered, found a familiar scene: his sister absorbed in her weaving, oblivious to his presence.

"Sister" he called softly.

"Brother" she responded, without taking her eyes off her work, as if the outside world were just a distant sound in her universe woven of threads and needles. "You can sit by my side" she murmured. He was accustomed to waiting for her commands; Helaena wasn't very fond of closeness. He walked the few steps that separated them, taking the seat beside her.

"Oh, sweet brother, your afflicted heart beats with sorrow" she whispered, furrowing her brow, laden with a wisdom that transcended words. She decided to set her sewing frame aside, taking his hand in her cold ones. Imaginary lines were drawn and read in his palm.

It made him uncomfortable to be so exposed, as if she could see beyond him, decipher his hidden secrets. His eyes avoided hers, filled with shyness, but his sister's gaze found him. "Do you not perceive the scent of roses in the air whispering to you?"

He tried to dissect her phrases, but it was more complicated than any philosophy book ever written. His furrowed brow showed his confusion. "The green awaits patiently for you" she concluded, refocusing on her former activity. A black spider adorned the fabric, formed by hundreds of delicate and meticulously planned threads.

He said goodbye to his sister, ready to go in search of her. Before stepping out of the room, he heard Helaena whisper a warning.

"Beware of the keeper of secrets." Still intrigued by the enigmas, he continued on his way.

Three knocks on the door, each one stirring his nervous breath and marking the beat of his racing heart. A fine mist of tension enveloped the air. His hands trembled slightly as they brushed against the wood, fearful of having made a mistake in coming here. He wondered if his visit would be well-received or if she would consider it an intrusion. Perhaps they didn't yet have such confidence in each other. These thoughts tormented him, suffocating his lungs. He decided it was best to let it be and wait for her to be ready to come out on her own. He would wait without haste, without hurry. He was about to turn around when he heard her low and soft voice resonating from the other side of the door.

"Who is it?" she inquired cautiously.

He hesitated for a moment, still with time to turn back, but before doing so, he replied firmly, "It's Aemond, my princess."

There was a brief moment of silence before the sound of the latch yielding and the door opening, revealing her before him. For the first time, he saw her wild hair loose, falling in beautiful curls around her shoulders, framing her tired face. It was usually up in braids. Her eyes were swollen, with bags under them, and her light blue dress slightly wrinkled, as if she had been in bed all day.

"Come in" she ordered softly, moving aside and gesturing for him to enter the room.

He thought it was exactly as he had imagined. Her distinctive and sweet scent filled the air. Shelves filled with books, her messy bed, hair brushes on her dresser, along with other items he couldn't identify... It was like entering a sacred sanctuary, where each object told him more about her. He turned his gaze back to her when he heard her speak.

"I missed you" she said, her voice barely a whisper, loneliness evident in her tone. She walked to her bed, not waiting for his response. She carefully smoothed out the sheets, apologizing for the mess, and sat down, patting the empty space beside her.

He still didn't know if it was appropriate to enter a princess's chamber, let alone sit on her bed. But she was inviting him, and he couldn't resist. He approached, his gaze fixed on her, moving his norms aside.

"I missed you too, my princess" he confessed, tenderly. She rested her head on his shoulder, taking his hands in hers.

"It's just us here, Aemond, you may call me by my name" she whispered.

Her name rolled off his lips like the sweetest secret he had ever kept. "Why are you sad?" he asked, concerned by what her eyes conveyed.

She hesitated, as if debating in her head what to say and how to say it. "I'm not sure I can tell you all my reasons" she admitted with sorrow. A small pang of disappointment inside him, but he knew that even in trust, secrets would exist. "I lost my protector, Aemond. He took my strength with him" she confessed.

Understanding fell on him. He wanted to offer empathetic words, but he didn't know which ones would alleviate her pain.

Why was she grieving that farewell so much? As if he were a father... or maybe just a very good guard. He wanted to believe the latter, but the words he heard in the courtyard echoed in his head, making everything increasingly clear.

There was nothing more to say; he didn't want to torment her further by asking questions.

"My mother wants us to go to Dragonstone" she declared.

He spun around quickly to look at her, surprised by the news, causing her to give a small jump at the sudden movement. How could he be so unlucky? He had found the companion of his dreams, only a few moons had passed, and now he had to let her go?

"What? Why?" he asked, unable to hide his dismay, a knot threatening to form in his throat.

"I do not know" she murmured, shrugging with sadness, and the tears that he suspected had been accompanying her these days returned, filling her eyes.

"When?"

"In a fortnight, perhaps, when everything is arranged."

"You cannot leave" he protested, his voice trembling with emotion. "You cannot leave me. You’re my only friend."

"I do not want to go, but it's not my decision" she replied with the same helplessness as him.

"Please, ask your mother to let you stay," he said urgently, determination in his eyes, "I’m going to take care of you. I really am."

"You're just a boy" she denied.

"I'll be two and ten soon" he reminded her, taking her hands again in his, searching her gaze.

"I'll train harder, I swear" he pleaded, not knowing what else to say. "I won't let anyone ever hurt you." His lips began to tremble, and tears fell from her green eyes, sliding down through flushed cheeks. He felt a deep pain in his chest at seeing her like this, and he didn't want to make this any harder for her, but he wasn't ready to lose her.

"Please" he whispered, begging.

"I'll talk to my mother, but I cannot make you any promises" she warned.

It was enough for him for now. He clung to that small hope, determined to fight alongside her and for her through whatever challenges fate had in store for them.

“Would you stay with me tonight?”

@callsignwidow @helaenaluvr @purplegardenwhispers ♥︎

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #house targaryen #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fanfic #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen fluff

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everydayyoulovemeless · 1 day

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Hi! If you are still taking requests, I'd love a head cannon with marrying the companions at the castle, and how they would feel? Thank you for considering this! ❤️

Marrying the Fo4 Companions at the Castle

➼ Word Count » 1.7k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Romantic ➼ A/N » I didn't add Codsworth because I couldn't stop thinking about Nate/Nora dying and then their spouse remarrying their butler. Felt too awkward😭

MacCready never imagined that he'd ever find someone who would love him as much as Lucy did and still know of his entire past. It makes him hopeful that Duncan could actually get a second partner to rely on in the future. He's never been too close with any of the Minutemen but, I imagine if he had to pick he'd choose them as his preferred faction. So, being married at the Castle wouldn't be an issue for him, but he'd get married just about anywhere as long as it meant you'd be the one he got to marry. It's one of the only times he doesn't intentionally pick a fight with Preston as he desperately wants his help with making him look his best. He knows he won't steer him wrong, since he's so close to you. He's so fidgety and nervous, but couldn't be more thrilled to devote the rest of his life to you.

Nick doesn't mind getting married at the Castle. If you'd asked him, he would've suggested the All Faiths Chapel, but in hindsight, the Castle seems a tad more appropriate for the two of you. Especially, when you consider that most of your loved ones are either already there or close enough in range to reach it safely. He cleans himself up quite nicely for the occasion, having Sturges help polish off his body's more visible aspects. He's a sucker for vintage weddings, and if you could somehow convince either Strong or a group of Minutemen soldiers to move one of those old cars into the venue, he'd consider proposing to you all over again.

Cait couldn’t care less where you two got married. She’s just glad that she’s going to marry you at all. Even if the Minutemen get on her nerves, she can’t help but find herself teary-eyed at the thought that you love her enough to even want to marry her. Even if it's almost certain that she's going to get into an argument of some sort with one of the faction members, she's still going to do her best to get along with everyone at the venue and make it fun for the both of you. She's never been a big fan of weddings and would prefer it if you only invited a small number of people, but besides that, she'll do her best to be as vulnerable with you as she possibly can on this day. Her being completely upfront and honest with you about how she feels is the least she could do after everything you've both been through together. It's the most emotional you have ever, and probably will ever see again.

There aren't many places at the Boston Airport that make sense to use for a venue so, Danse understands why the Castle is where you'd want to hold it. Even if they aren't Brotherhood, Danse still holds a lot of respect for the Minutemen soldiers and wouldn't mind playing nice if it meant making this day more memorable for you. He might even come to find that him and Sturges have a lot more in common than he initially thought. With them both being interested in power armor and whatnot. Danse is sorta like a puppy when it comes to these things, anywhere you want to go and anything you want to do, he's fully on board with. The location doesn't matter to him, as long as he's able to slip a ring on your finger. He's mainly just glad to be apart of your life in such a meaningful way and he hopes it'll stay that way for a long time to come.

Preston couldn't be happier to share this moment with you in a place he holds in such high regard. Especially since everyone he cares about is right here with you both in this moment. There’s nowhere more perfect in his mind and he’s overjoyed to be able to marry you despite the world being so tainted. It makes him that much more determined to defend the Commonwealth knowing that there are people like you still living in it. He does everything in his power to make the day go as smoothly as you could ever hope. He doesn't rest until the venue looks just as you described it to him, every little detail you dreamed about to him set in stone before your big day. Nothing is out of place, and he can't wait to see your expression when you see the effort he put into it all.

Piper had always been too enamored in her work to really consider a day when she'd get married to someone. She surprises herself when she agrees to commit herself to you for the rest of her life but, she supposes it's a welcomed one. The Castle would not have been her first choice when thinking of places to get married. If it were up to her, she would've picked somewhere on the coast. So, the two of you compromise and do it just outside the Castle on the sandy parts of the territory. She finds it to be much nicer on the outskirts, especially with the soft sound of the waves in the background. Nat makes the perfect flower girl for the occasion and she makes sure you're feeling more laid-back about the day rather than stressed. A light-hearted, casual wedding on the beach is all she could ever want.

Curie is so excited to wear a white dress! She’s read about this ritual before, but being able to partake in it is something she finds lovely! She couldn't care less where it happens, as long as the two of you can make it as accurate to the pre-war version as you can. She'll spend hours rambling to the Minutemen soldiers about all sorts of different topics out of being so nervous, but luckily for her, they're kind enough to just let her talk. Being able to experience something that holds such high importance to couples helps her to feel more human in her new body. There are so many different things she wants to do to further implement her as a person, and what better way to start than by getting married?

Strong doesn’t want to get married. It didn’t seem to work out all that well with Macbeth, so why would he want that for himself? Can’t you be a unit together without all your weird human rituals? Besides, there's no way anyone would ever get him into a classier outfit.

Hancock would’ve preferred to have married you in Goodneighbor since it's his home and everyone he planned to invite is there. But he's honestly so head over heels for you that he’d marry you in the glowing sea if that’s what you desired. He'll just ask to have two weddings instead of one, that way both of your 'families' can witness it without it being too much of a hassle. He's actually kinda glad your first wedding will be held at the Castle because he can't tie a tie to save his life, and Preston is way nicer about it than anyone in Goodneighbor would be. This way, he can learn and not be teased about it every time he walks into his own town, and Preston promises to keep his secret for him.

Deacon feels uncomfortable about getting married in front of everyone. He’d rather you go somewhere where it’s only you two and slide a ring on each other's fingers after saying your vows. No crowd, no long tradition. He's really nervous about the wedding, especially since it's being held in a place that means so much to you and to everyone else in the Minutemen. He wants to make this special, but his fear of being vulnerable is slowly killing him. He's so afraid that he'll get to the front of the makeshift alter and make a fool of himself. He's so shaky that you almost have to go over and ask how he's doing. He'll do it for you, just know he's having a few drinks beforehand to encourage his more charismatic side out of him. If that doesn't prove his love for you, I don't know what does.

X6-88 would hate it but would be surprisingly quiet about it for your sake. He thinks the Castle is disgusting, and he doesn’t particularly like the Minutemen, even if you are the general, but he wants this to be your day and so he’ll marry you where you want. The Institute would’ve been cleaner, and he could’ve arranged nicer decorations, but he supposes it doesn’t matter, as it’ll be him putting a ring on you either way. He can look forward to that, at least.

Old Longfellow would be pretty open about not wanting to get married there. He wants to compromise a little bit with you, as all of his closest friends are in Far Harbor and all of yours are in the Commonwealth. If anything he’d prefer to marry you in a place somewhere in the middle of those two places. You'll have to sit down with him and decide on a place that works for both of you and, if you can't find one, he has no issue just being with you. He's a firm believer in not needing to be married to prove your love for your partner. So, if that's how it ends up being, that's how it'll be.

Gage never imagined he’d ever get married, let alone at a Minutemen settlement. What were the odds? It’d take a lot of convincing to get Preston to agree to let you get married to a raider in the Castle. He gets slight flashbacks to Quincy at the thought of someone like him entering Minutemen territory so freely. But, as much as he disproves your relationship, he’ll let go of his grudge for the day so you two can get married. Security is amped up like crazy though. Gage personally doesn’t care where he gets married as long as it’s not in Nuka-World. The gang members aren’t too fond of the ritual and will begin to look down on both of you for participating in something so “classy”. It’s best if they don’t know.

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xeas · 2 days

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Can you please do a Norton and fool's gold with a reader where the reader has cinnamoroll personality (cinnamoroll is from sanrio)

MIND OVER MATTER IS MAGIC!

🍍 IN WHICH: drabbles (seperately) of Norton Campbell and Fool's Gold with a reader who is like cinnamoroll from sanrio (basically, shy yet sweet who will also help out their friends whenever they can)

🥥 NOTE FROM XEA!: thank you so much for your request! i love writing for norton but im wary my fools gold may ooc...haha...

🫧CONTENT WARNINGS: pre-established relationship, Norton may appear overprotective, mc may appear to be 'pure and innocent' in a fashion that may be perceived as corny to some readers. reader is referred to as "doll" in Norton's section, "babyface" in Fools Gold's. Seer is mentioned and Grave keeper is implied in Fools Gold section. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!

NORTON CAMPBELL; The Prospector

NORTON swears up and down he's done nothing worthy of him deserving you.

The way your thumb grazes his knuckles in a comforting manner--whether to soothe your own nerves or his is unsure-- but the expression of innocence coated on your face both makes his heart sink to his stomach and gives him butterflies.

You have the eyes of someone who has gazed at few possible traumatic scenarios and the skin of one who not been lashed by the harsh truths of the world. He squishes down his feeling of envy when he feels he's going too far down the rabbit hole of his thoughts.

But now, as he bandages up your wound from the cold Night Watch, he can't help but realize how that weighs you down. It wasn't supposed to be you with the gash in your thigh it was supposed to be the teammate you wasted no time saving. You took a hit for them, and for what? So they could have a futile 5 seconds to run as fast as they could only for the harsh winter wind to yank them back to the hunter? You we're such a fool, having so much faith in these people.

But that's what led you two to become such a power couple. You gave him a chance.

"Norton-"

"Hush up, doll." And you do just that.

He looks angry and you feel nervous because of it.

"I'm sorry for getting injured." You mumble quietly. You don't expect a 'Its fine' or a 'Its not your fault' because this was a rookie mistake and you by no means are a rookie.

He remains silent, finishing up dressing your wound. His gloved hands go to hold your thighs as you sit in some corner of burned down building in the Arms Factory.

"Don't do that again." He states. Its not up for debate and you silently nod, moving to give his forehead a kiss as you steady yourself to get up and work on getting out of here.

NORTON CAMPBELL; Fools Gold (Hunter Identity)

"Hm, shame. Really."

Fools Gold let out a teasing laugh as he shoved you into a chair. He leaned on the wall behind it as you glared up at him. Fools gold clicked his tongue (does he even have one??) and fake pouted, most likely mocking you.

"D'aw, don't look at me like that, Babyface. You wouldn't be like this if you didn't sacrifice yourself for that silly little seer."

At least he was brutally honest.

Your muscles are screaming at you and you can feel them throbbing after you spent the last 2 minutes running and jumping and rolling to get away from him.

He traces your jawline with his pickaxe, you can feel your face heat up as Fools Gold lets out a wheezing chuckle. "All bark huh?"

You try to stutter out a response not until you see the ground beside you break. This was going to take a while.

୨🐙୧ ‧ 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝘼𝙉 𝘼𝙈𝘼𝙕𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝘿𝘼𝙔! ⋆ ˚｡

🌺 𝙓𝙊𝙓𝙊,

XEA!

#idv x reader #id5 x reader #Norton Campbell x reader #Norton Campbell #idv prospector #idv prospector x reader #Fools Gold x reader #Fools Gold #Identity V x reader

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t-r99 · 2 days

Text

His Light

Honestly, how dare they give us this beautiful bastard only to make him the ultimate manwhore?

LOOK AT THIS BEAUTIFUL BITCH

Okay anyways, Aiku fluff because☺️

Oliver Aiku x fem reader

wc 554

Mr Oliver "His ideal type is someone who doesn't look like they'd be a hassle when breaking up" Aiku is the type to invite two women on the same date in hopes of all three of them enjoying each other's company, the type whose favourite season of the year is summer so he can "see swimsuits" (okay Aiku🙄), but then he meets you.

Sweet little you who has him speechless and stuttering nervously for the first time in his life. He feels all warm and fuzzy, head going blank whenever he tries to use one of his standard pickup lines.

He's used to girls blushing and batting their lashes at him, sometimes crossing their hands behind their backs so they can pull their shoulders back and push their tits out. On the other hand, some girls like to play hard to get instead.

None of it ever matters, though. He always gets what he wants because he's Oliver Aiku, the Captain of Japan's U20 team. He has it all, looks, charm, charisma. A master of getting girls to swoon over him.

You, however, are nothing like all those other girls.

You giggled when he stammered nervously with his cheeks going pink, but not mockingly. You thought he was cute. Your laughter is soft and genuine whereas every other girl he has ever talked to has faked most of it in the hopes of getting him to give her more attention.

Oliver finally gives up on trying to pick you up and simply looks down with a pout on his handsome face that is now bright pink, hands shoved in his pockets and almost glaring down at the ground and angry at himself for turning into a little pussy.

You tell him he's cute when he blushes, and that takes him by surprise. No one has ever called Oliver cute before, and no one's ever smiled at him the way you are right now with those pretty eyes that he could get lost in forever. His face still feels hot, his ears are still warm, but he stills when he meets your eyes again.

Oliver feels like he's standing in a sea of darkness with only a single source of light.

You are the light.

His light.

You are warm like the sun.

Is this what it feels like to fall in love? Oliver wonders. Is he falling for you?

He realizes that he's staring, but finds it impossible to look away. How could he ever turn away from you now?

You laugh softly when his blush deepens and walk up to him. Oliver nearly dies on the spot when your hands, soft and delicate, end up on his arm. His hands are still in his pockets but you hold his forearm and smile up at him.

Oliver gets worried that his palms are sweaty so he keeps them tucked away. You don't mind, at least he hopes, and simply squeeze his forearm instead. "You're just a big softie, aren't you?" You have the voice of an angel, Aiku thinks. How can it be possible for a human to have such a soothing and dreamlike voice?

Your words have him pouting again. "'m not." He mumbles.

Of course he is. Oliver is only soft for you.

After all, you are the light of his life.

#blue lock #bllk #oliver aiku #blue lock oliver aiku #oliver aiku fluff #oliver aiku x reader #oliver aiku x you

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masterjedilenawrites · 3 days

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I have a cuddles request. Female reader and Fives. Reader and Echo were crushing on each other. They never got past the crush stage though. Reader and Fives were buddies too. They liked to flirt, tease and joke around. Now Echo is gone though, and Reader and Fives are devastated. Cuddles prompted 5, 15 and 20. Really they both just need shoulder to cry on. Someone to hold on to.

Snuggle Drabbles #3

Fives & reader | 840 words

Content: angst, grief, hugs for comfort

Prompts: Burying face in their chest, Squeezing them tightly, Clinging to them

Oh the huuuurt with this one! I made myself tear up a little 😥

The presence of absence... It was a thought you found yourself stuck on often these days. How you could feel emptiness, as heavy and distinct as an object in your hand. How you could see vacancy, an outline in the space of every room, your eyes drawn to the void like a moth to a light. How it was possible to notice him when he wasn't there.

Echo wasn't there. And yet, he was. His absence made him present. Existing only as a memory projected into every space he should have been but no longer would be. The voice only you could hear. The face only you could see.

That wasn't entirely true. Fives still felt him, too. You could tell. Even though he did as he was trained and soldiered on, falling into step by the brothers who were still alive, never bringing up the ones who weren't, never spending time on the things that were out of their control, like life and death, and instead sticking to the things that were, like mission strategies and which MRE to have for breakfast... you knew he still noticed the presence of Echo's absence, just as much as you did. And you knew he was hurting just as badly.

They'd both been your friends, but it was Echo you'd dreamed of. Of kissing. Of loving. Echo with his sharp mind and sweet smile, just as no-nonsense as Fives was all-nonsense. Noble and steady and good.

And just when you'd gotten the sense he maybe returned some of your affections, he'd been taken away. Just like that. No more sweet smiles. No more dreams. Just you and his absence.

And Fives.

Some days you could follow his lead and pretend you didn't see the empty spaces. Other days it was like you had to stare through a ghost to even see the face of the living friend in front of you. Today was one such day. Fives had tried a joke, the first you'd heard a while, but all that landed with you was the absence of Echo's laughter. You waited to hear it and it never came. Neither did your own.

You could see Fives's throat bob as he tried to swallow. His hands came up as if wanting to take hold of you but not daring to reach through the space in between. You realized you couldn't remember the last time you had hugged each other in greeting, or felt his playful swat against your shoulder as he teased, or even the warmth of his leg against yours as he sat close to steal a bite of your food.

And then you realized Echo wasn't the only absence you now felt.

"I'm sorry," you rasped, your throat suddenly constricting with suppressed emotion.

Fives quickly shook his head in response. "It's okay."

You stood and stared at each other, unsure how to move forward. There was this thing in between you, a void that threatened to swallow you up if you dared cross it.

"I... I want you to be okay," he said after a while. And then, in a smaller voice, "Echo would want me to make sure you're okay."

You didn't think you could speak but you made yourself try anyway. "He'd want me to do the same for you."

Fives's mouth moved into a smile but it didn't reach his eyes. His eyes, instead, were watering, darting between yours and the walls around, as if searching for something. He wiped at them and then his beard, taking in a sharp breath through his nose, clearing his throat.

"I'm sorry," you heard yourself saying again. "I... I don't want to push you away..."

"It's..." he instinctually started to respond before stopping himself.

It wasn't okay. It wasn't okay to lose one friend and not have the other to lean on. The truth was, you were afraid. Afraid to walk through Echo. To fill the void with anything other than his memory.

"It's okay," he ended up saying.

It's okay.

Fives's mouth had moved but it was Echo's voice you heard. Clear and calm and certain. Delusion or not, it was all the permission you needed.

You threw yourself at Fives, not daring to think beyond your need to feel him. Your arms wrapped around his torso and squeezed his body tightly against yours. Your face buried into his chest. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. He immediately replicated every movement and held you with all the strength and care he had. Tears fell and mixed between you. Sobbing breaths heaved back and forth against each one another until they eventually ate each other up and left nothing but defeated sighs in their wake. Desperate, clinging grasps loosened into a tender but firm embrace.

You'd taken that empty space and started to fill it again. With a promise. With hope. And it was okay because you knew he was still there, too. An echo of every new memory you and Fives would make in his honor.

Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93, @arctrooper69, @sleepycreativewriter, @techie-bear,

@theroguesully, @cw80831, @cdblake1565

Clone Bois Tag: @kaijusplotch, @rebel-finn, @lucyysthings, @marvel-starwars-nerd, @nekotaetae,

@severalseashellsbytheseashore, @lackofhonor, @flowered-bicycles, @foodmoneyandcats, @nahoney22,

@dangraccoon, @lulalovez, @aconstructofamind, @skellymom, @the-mom-friend-dot-com

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#star wars #the clone wars #fives & reader #fives x reader #echo x reader #echo & reader #snuggle prompts #cuddle prompts #snuggle drabbles

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anemoiashifts · 20 hours

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mental health check-in for reality shifting.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

as we all know, reality shifting is generally neural thing but tends to be glorified & romanized by a select few due to people wanting to have a better situation or a more desirable life.

that in itself is totally fine but this post is created with the intent to make sure the community has a healthy relationship with shifting & if not possible solutions.

if mental health is left unchecked it can lead to destructive behaviors & can worsen preexisting mental health concerns. for me personally, that’s not what shifting is about. you can learn about yourself & grow without even shifting. the expansion of your perspective & becoming more empathetic to yourself is something i believe is extremely important.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ how often do you think about shifting ?

while it’s fun to daydream & think about your desired reality — does it consume your life or take away from other tasks that need to get done in this reality? if you’re somebody who has maladaptive daydreaming disorder (like myself!) it can exacerbate the fantasy-like aspect of thinking about shifting.

if you’re someone whose mind wanders a lot do something productive. this could be finishing some homework that you’ve been putting off for a long time or rearranging your bedroom. stuff like partaking in hobbies while listening to youtube videos in the background may help too.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ why are you shifting ?

is it because you’re searching for something bigger ? maybe you’re looking for friends ? while you probably aren’t going to be able to meet your favorite characters here, you can meet lots of other people & make new connections at anytime. if it’s in person or even if it’s in an online space , i bet there are lots of people in this comment section or any shifting video who would love to be your friend.

defining why you want to shift can do wonders for uncovering more about yourself. 90% of the things people want to shift for are & can be found here & you’re more then worthy of them. just because you want something like love or a sense of belonging doesn’t mean you have to travel the multiverse for it.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ “i want to k!ll myself because i can’t shift.”

while i understand frustration, extremes that result in life altering & ending choices are never good and quite frankly, frightening for a creator to see in their comment sections. most sv!c!des are committed on impulse. we go through so many emotions on the daily & process so much information a day. taking a moment alone to think & break down thought process & long term effects your actions will have is a nice way to come back down to earth.

meditation is also a great tool to calm down. you can even use shifting guided meditations without the actual intention to shift. breath work has also been helpful to me.

i understand these suggestions aren’t long term fixes but if you’re someone who has echoed these words & truly meant it then i cannot recommend therapy & possible taking a break from shifting even more to focus on yourself right here where you are. this may not be the answer you’d like to hear but it’s the one that is possibly needed.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ timing.

there is no specific time frame that you have to shift. both children & adults do hold the capability to shift. if someone tells you, you can’t shift because ___ or that you’ll age out of something its simply not true. things take time & it’s okay if your journey doesn’t look like everyone else’s. there’s no need to stress yourself out. try to enjoy the journey as well as being excited for the outcome. essentially, a large part of the shifting journey is meditation & affirmations which are both beneficial to your mental & physical self. try to sprinkle in some self love affirmations or general positive thoughts too. even if you need to take a step away from shifting & pick it up at a later date, i encourage you to do so if it’s stressing you out or you’re only focusing on shifting or neglecting your life / responsibilities here.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

♡ shadow & trauma work.

answering questions that are meant to make you think & deeply reflect are tools that hi light some issues you may not even realize you’ve had. i have a tumblr post here with some, but for tiktok, ill list some on the next side. these ones are specifically for shifting but i encourage you to venture out to discover some more personal ones to expand upon your answers to these.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

i should also mention, i’m not a therapist so take what i say as non-professional advice & mere suggestions & a starting point to truly expand what shifting has done for you, negatively & positivity. im a huge advocate for therapy & if you feel comfortable enough expand upon these conversations in sessions if you feel comfortable.

i understand my audience is varied in age but i do notice a lot of you are younger then myself. it’s hurts to see people who are so young stress themselves out this much over trying to shift. i really do care about you & want to see all of you happy — with or without shifting.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

#reality shifting #desired reality #shifting #shiftblr #shiftok #shifting motivation #shifting realities #shifter

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nicksbestie · 3 hours

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Inside Your Head - N. Sturniolo

Summary : You had no way to block out the thoughts of others, and one specific person just wouldn't leave your mind.

Warnings : descriptions of migraines, 16+ content (no smut, makeout/suggestive content)

Word Count : 2,300

Pairing : Nick Sturniolo/Male Reader (romantic)

A/N : got this idea from a Pinterest prompt!

You had a splitting migraine.

This wasn’t completely uncommon for you, and you had tried to seek out many ways to keep it from happening again. You’d tried painkillers, endless doctor appointments, sleeping more, drinking tons of water, but nothing had worked. Deep down, you knew nothing would fix it, but you were still holding out a little bit of hope that something would blanket the real reason you could never stop the headaches. You could hear the doctor’s disappointment as you explained everything that you had already tried, and you could hear the hope fade out of them. Except when you said you could hear it, it wasn’t a figure of speech like most people used. You could hear their thoughts, just like everybody else. What a bomb drop, right?

Telepathy really wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Not by a long shot. Sure, it would be cool sometimes if you could choose when to hear what people were thinking, but in your case, that wasn’t possible. Or if it was, you had no idea how to do that, so you got to hear everything, which sometimes hurt your feelings much more than told you juicy secrets. Or other times, the secrets were just plain depressing. You also got to hear all of the gross thoughts, ranging from illegal things to just disgusting ones. You weren’t unattractive, so you got to hear all of the thoughts about yourself as well, but the only thing that sucked was that they all came from girls, and you swung for the other team, so it didn’t really help you out much.

You had no idea why this had happened to you. You knew what had caused it, but not why it had affected you in this way, and most of the time, it was fucking annoying. You’d been in a traumatic accident as a child, and had suffered a lot of blunt force to your head. You didn’t remember most of it happening. Your only memory was waking up in the hospital to bright lights piercing through your mind, and hundreds of worried voices racing around. Alarm bells didn’t ring for a while, because you were so groggy that you couldn’t tell what was going on. It wasn’t until later that you heard the doctor saying that you didn’t have a high chance of full recovery, wondering why your parents had said anything, when you realized that your doctor’s mouth hadn’t moved. He hadn’t spoken anything out loud.

You didn’t know what to do, so you didn’t say anything, fear still racing through you and pain beginning to follow it as all of the medication in your veins was starting to slowly wear off. You didn’t even want to think about what had happened to you, let alone other people’s thoughts, so you’d never breathed a word about it, even now, ten years later. After all, if you walked up to someone and told them you could hear all of theirs, and everyone else’s, thoughts, who would believe you? You would probably get reported and sent somewhere for acting crazy, so was it really worth the risk? Besides, people wouldn’t want to be near you if they knew that they could never keep a single thing secret from you, even if you really, really, didn’t want to know about it.

So here you were, sitting in your best friend’s bedroom, attempting to hang out and talk with him, but all you could focus on was the stabbing pain in your head from the bedroom on the other side of the wall, the loudest internal screaming and cursing you had ever heard. Matt noticed you rubbing the sides of your head, of course he did, but he also knew you struggled with bad headaches a lot, so he simply cut off all of the large lights in his room, trying to help you stay comfortable. He offered for you to go home if you needed to, but you had just gotten there, and you hadn’t seen each other in weeks, so there was no way you were leaving so soon. They had just gotten back to Boston from three weeks in LA, and you’d missed your friends like crazy.

You just really hoped Nick would stop fucking screaming. You didn’t need to check who was in the room, because everyone’s thoughts were in their own voices, and even if they weren’t, you’d still be able to tell that Nick was the only one coming up with such colorful words. Matt only knew that you had really bad migraines, he didn’t know what caused them, so he had no idea how to help you from here, simply letting you have your space, comfortable silence between the two of you. You could hear his thoughts as well, most of them pitying you for being in pain, and a couple about the video game he was playing. You excused yourself, stealing some of the painkillers in the bathroom cabinet, telling Matt you were going to go say hi to Nick. It wasn’t something that raised any alarms with him because you hadn’t really spoken to Nick since you had gotten there, as he was editing in his room.

You fought the urge to wince as the closer you got to Nick’s door, the louder his voice got, but as you knocked, it suddenly stopped, giving you some moments of relief. You sighed deeply, hearing the thought of “who the fuck is that?” before the door opened just a few seconds later. The smile that spread across Nick’s face was worth every moment of pain as he immediately pulled you into a hug, a happy greeting leaving from his lips. You hugged him back, smiling just as wide, hoping that if you were in here he would stop the yelling, and you really just wanted to be around him. His presence was calming, when he wasn’t losing his mind over an argument or editing a new video.

You liked Nick. A lot, and you couldn’t deny that fact. You’d already tried so many times to pretend like it wasn’t real, that you were kidding yourself, but it hadn’t worked. He didn’t know, obviously, because how could you tell him? He didn’t even know you were gay. Figuring out your sexuality had been a recent development in your life, and thank god nobody could read your thoughts, because it was not pretty. You hadn’t told anyone, and that included all three of the triplets. So part of the reason that you were eager to hang around Nick was just due to the fact that you had a massive crush on him. Sitting down on his bed after finally making it through the doorway, you couldn’t help the fact that the smile didn’t leave your face.

“You seem frustrated, what’s wrong?”

Nick shook his head, smiling and gesturing towards the screens he had been editing on.

“This new video is being a pain in the ass to edit, and I’m about at my limit, even though it’s supposed to go up tomorrow.”

You shrugged, laying down and setting your phone down next to you.

“So do it tomorrow, then.”

He looked at you with an incredulous smile, laying down next to you.

“You’re a terrible influence, my career will go downhill if I listen to you.”

You laughed, stealing his phone and unlocking it before posting stupid pictures on his Close Friends story that he would probably have to delete later. He laughed with you, taking it back from your hands and posting a ridiculous photo on his public story of the two of you, knowing you were a known figure in his fanbase, so it wouldn’t cause too much uproar.

“I’m a wonderful influence, thank you. You’re clearly stressed, so just take a break, you’re allowed to relax for a bit. I think you should just stop for the day and hang out with me, I fucking missed you.”

“I missed you too, how have things been here?”

A conversation panned for the next thirty minutes, both of you talking about the different things you had done while in different states, and thoroughly enjoying each other’s company. It wasn’t until you were halfway through a sentence when a thought popped through, and despite it being in Nick’s voice, you had to take a second to figure out if it was your imagination.

“I really want to kiss him right now.”

You had gotten another quarter of the way through your sentence before what you had just heard hit you, and you paused. Nick noticed, because he had been watching your face and listening intently, but if you had been able to see yourself through his eyes, you would’ve only seen your lips. He had really only been focusing on those, admiring the way you could spin and tell a story, while he had his supposedly secret thoughts about being able to do more with your lips than just listen to them speak. When you paused, he did too, looking concerned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sorry, just had a brain blank.”

You couldn’t tell him. There was no way that you could just spit that out, but as you continued to tell your story, he unintentionally caused you to stop again.

“He reacted as soon as I thought about kissing him. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he could read my mind or something fucking insane like that.”

You covered your shock with a cough, but your cheeks definitely flushed.

He wanted you the same way you wanted him.

But you weren’t going to do anything about it, not right this second, at least. You were going to let it sit for a while, because maybe it was just a fluke, an intrusive thought that he hadn’t pushed to the side just yet. But when yet another one of Nick’s thoughts spun around in your head, you didn’t want to wait any longer.

“He’s blushing, what the fuck, why does he look so pretty when he’s blushing?”

You love to talk, but you swear you had never wrapped up a sentence quicker, just quietly staring at him. He laughed awkwardly, just looking back at you.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just…”

You trailed off, staring at Nick’s face, a smile still covering yours, but not an awkward one, one of relief, the stress of concealing a crush no longer on your mind.

“You just what?”

Nick still seemed slightly confused, but he had a gentle smile on his face as well, albeit his eyes looking a little concerned. There were a lot of thoughts running around your head, but the main one was: when were you going to get another chance like this? It was that exact question playing on repeat in your mind that caused you to close the small gap between the two of you, gently but firmly pressing your lips against his, one hand holding his. You could hear his mind go completely silent, and you were scared for a moment, wondering if you’d done something wrong, but just as you were about to pull back, Nick’s free hand flew up to cup the side of your face, kissing back, much rougher than your original kiss. This one was full of desperation, longing, the movement of his lips against yours saying everything that his words hadn’t been able to for however long. Pulling back, both of your lips red and gasping in breaths of air, he looked shocked but happiness lit up his eyes.

“You’re an even better kisser than I thought.”

You softly laughed, staring at him before putting your hand on his face, mirroring yours, and pulling him back in. You’d been daydreaming about this for ages, there was no way you were going to just let it end with only one kiss. You both tried to take control of the kiss, but Nick eventually won, deepening it as he felt you go lax against him. Your mind went completely blank, shutting everything out, lost in the feeling of the man you’d wanted for what felt like forever up against your body. You didn’t process anything happening until you realized Nick was over top of you, only breaking your kiss to breathe before reconnecting the two of you. He finally broke it, a whine leaving your lips as you felt the loss of his. He moved down to leave open kisses on your neck, smiling against you, deep breaths leaving the both of you.

It was a perfect moment, until it wasn’t. The door opened, and you heard a horrified yell coming from the general area of the doorway. It wasn’t until the person spoke that you realized who it was.

“Are you serious?! You told me you were going to come say hi to him, not this!”

You couldn’t do anything but laugh against Nick’s skin, the happiness still coursing through you overwhelming the embarrassment that would come later. Nick turned his head, a glare shooting across the room at his brother.

“Matt, get the fuck out.”

Matt had a hand over his eyes, being as dramatic as he possibly could.

“Ugh. That’s my brother. Gross!”

He slammed the door behind him as he left, not wanting to see a second more. Nick looked back at you, an exasperated smile on his face, pressing a short kiss to your lips before speaking himself.

“Did he know? About you feeling like this?”

“No. I was going to tell him, but he figured it out for himself.”

Nick nodded, before returning to what he had been doing before Matt had walked in, only pausing to say one more thing.

“You’re staying here tonight, right?”

You smiled up at him.

“Absolutely. You read my mind.”

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