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kaetastic · 7 months

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yearning for the angst tonight

A Cracked And Fissured Door

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"You just...you make me feel like you only want me when nobody's looking."

It stings, if she's being honest. Being kept at an arms length when in public. Most people know about them, so she's not sure why he's so...cold and distant when they're not alone.

Masterlist

"If he sends us out before next week I'm quitting." Soap groans, back cracking as he flops down forward on the bar. "Three ops in a week? What do I look like, a machine?"

Gaz snickers, raising his glass to that. "Bloody might well be at this point."

She hides a smile behind her own drink, leaning back into the bar. They had done three ops in a week, mission after mission after mission. It had been pretty rough, just as Soap said and she was more than ready to crash and burn and sleep for three days straight but abandoning their tradition of getting drinks at this specific bar everything Saturday was not something anyone on the 141 was willing to break.

"Just be glad we got the weekend off." Ghost says from beside her. She smiles warmly at him, is rewarded with a slightly blank look.

The flicker of her smile is hid behind another sip.

"Betcha your gonna take advantage of that, eh?" Soap nudges her, looking pointedly between her and Ghost. The latter rolls his eyes and says nothing.

"Only thing I'm looking forward to is an actual mattress." She knocks back the last of her drink and stands, shrugging Gaz's arm slung over her shoulder. "Speaking of which, I think it's about time we call it a night." Casting a glance at her boyfriend, who merely nods in confirmation and pushes the stool back himself, she nods at the others. "Don't cause too much trouble, boys. Text us when you're home safe, yeah?"

"We just got shot at for a week, don't think a car ride home is gonna be the end of us." Soap snorts.

"You never know." Is all she says before stepping out of the bar with Ghost, who offers her her coat to shrug on.

"Hell of a week." She comments, glancing at him gratefully as she shrugs on the warm fabric.

"Just glad it's over," Simon says simply.

Walking back to their car, she can't help but cast quiet glances at him as they walk. She knows Ghost notices them, chooses to keep looking ahead and keep the silence.

Truth be told, she aches to touch him.

Aches to feel his skin on hers, to feel the callouses of his hands brush against hers. His heat, ever all-encompassing makes her feel safe in a way no bulletproof vest ever could.

"Think I might ask Price to assign me desk duty for a while." She jokes, knocking their shoulders together gently.

To the untrained eye, to someone who might not have been tuned to what makes Simon Simon, it wouldn't have been noticeable, but he leans subtly away so they don't touch again.

She doesn't mention it, but it makes her heart heavy.

It's nothing new. She's not sure why she's even surprised anymore.

Trying again, her arm hangs beside her, purposefully brushing against his gloves. The frown on her face deepens when he shoves his hands into his pockets.

Maybe it's the exhausting week she's had, but it gets to her, infects her heart, mind, and soul with the insecurity she keeps locked behind a cracked and fissured door in her mind.

It stings, if she's being honest.

He's not the most...social person. Closed off and private, but baring her soul to someone she loves and getting so little in return...

Being kept at an arm's length when in public, even though their relationship is not a secret. Most people know, actually, so she's not sure why he's so...cold and distant when they're not alone.

The car ride home is silent, but not in a comfortable way their quiet is usually shared. Simon seems to pick up on it, because he grips the steering wheel a little too hard, the tension in his shoulders a little too foreign.

Gaz had no problem touching her. A friendly punch to the arm, an arm around her shoulder. Soap was a touchy person by nature, nudging her and ruffling her hair.

So why was it that Simon always pulled away?

The one person who should love her the most, who should be proud of loving her...why does he pull away and pretend this thing between them doesn't exist.

She doesn't get it, hasn't understood for the past two years they've been together. Pushing was not something she'd considered given his stubbornness and private nature, but there's no denying she's always felt a twinge of hurt whenever he disregards her in public.

Was he...ashamed? Of her? Did he not want to be seen with her?

The thought latches itself onto her, sucking away the usual confidence she carries and leaving her a nervous mess. It makes her sick. Before she knows it they're back home but she can't find herself to walk any farther than the front door that's shut behind her.

He doesn't comment on it, just casts her an inquisitive look before moving to the kitchen in view.

Simon always did like a cup of tea before bed.

"Simon?" The word comes out a little garbled, caught in her indecision, and morphed into something muffled. He hears it, because of course he does, and hums. Doesn't look up from where he's rifling through the cupboards for his kettle.

The air is cold in her lungs, freezes up with nerves, and this is all so ridiculous. It's stupid and she shouldn't be feeling this way but she does because she just does.

Trust was a precious jewel, a diamond only given to those who trusted enough to keep it unmarred. Necklaces and earrings and bracelets, she feels like she could make millions of intricate pieces with the bits of trust she had bared for Simon to take and keep as his own.

Simon knows what she loves, what she hates, how she feels about anything and everything. The rhyme and reasons, the way she ticks, and what throws her off kilter. He knows it all, it's been given willingly and eagerly to the man who took her heart with that rough demeanour on the tarmac two years ago.

She had given him all her gems, the shiniest and the dullest ones, but he's never even been bothered to spare her a piece of coal.

When she doesn't speak immediately, he pauses his movements and sets down the kettle on the counter with a 'clink'. "What's the matter, love?" He straightens up.

"Do you want to be with me?" She blurts out, unable to fathom leaving this conversation for another day. Not when she's so worked up and hurt and feeling.

His face stays blank, and when he responds it's almost as if he's doing it carefully. "What do you mean?"

"I mean what I asked." The sides of her coat are clutched with a knuckle-white grip, nausea making her an inch away from ruining the lovely carpet they'd picked out together when they'd first moved in.

Simon furrows his brows. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"That's not what I asked." Unease starts to curl up in her gut. "Do you like me, Simon?"

"Of course I fucking like you, what are you talking about?"

"You sure don't act like it."

There.

It's in the open now. Simon stares at her for a moment, shocked or stunned or whatever emotion that causes him to clam up for a moment.

He never really was good at this part of their relationship, but this...it was vital. It was important because she refuses to let this problem define what they have together.

"You don't touch me when we're not alone." She starts, "You act like I'm just no one when we're out together. You barely acknowledge me any more than anybody else, pull away when I try to touch you." It feels good to let this all off her chest. Months and months of trying to figure out what was going on. "Tell me why. I just want to know why."

"I'm a private person-"

"No Simon, that's not what this is." She shakes her head, emotion rising inside her. "You just...you make me feel like you only want me when nobody's looking. Like I'm...like you want to keep me a secret."

Her eyes are glassy because saying it hurts so fucking much, but it needs to be said. It needs to be voiced, he needs to listen and acknowledge-

"You know that's not true, so it shouldn't be a bloody problem-"

"Do I?" A laugh burst out of her, unexpected and short. It's enough to cut him off, cause him to narrow his eyes. "You've never told or indicated that to me. Not once. Not in two years."

"It's common sense. I wouldn't be with you if I didn't want you." She can tell he's trying to stay level, to meet her in the middle but all caution gets thrown to the wind because is he really trying to argue with her on this?

"No, it's not." She insists, trying not to raise her voice as anger bubbles up inside her. Was he not getting it? Not understanding that this was hurting her? That he was hurting her? "Sometimes I-..." She swallows, "Sometimes I'll be having a great time, like today. I'll be laughing and enjoying myself and then I'll glance at you, or try and do something as simple as brush shoulders, and I'll watch you push me away. Or pull away." Her voice waver but she fights to keep it steady. "And it makes me feel miserable because what is it about me that makes my own boyfriend not want to accidentally touch me?"

"Why didn't you tell me before?" He says, hackles raised at being put on the spot like this. Ghost doesn't mean to, but this is all so new to him and the only thing he knows how to do in these rapidly changing situations is to be sharp and jagged and tense. "If you're so miserable, why are you still here?"

"Because I love you!" She cries out. "And I can't help but think that I might never get the same back from you." Her grip on her coat tightens.

There's a beat of silence.

"I never asked you to. You knew what you were getting yourself into."

His words cut through the quiet, as sharp as the blades he keeps strapped to his thigh.

"Oh, fuck you." She whispers. "Don't give me that bullshit. That's not an excuse for not trying-"

"Not trying?" His voice gets slightly louder. "I try every day. I try to be someone you deserve but you're bloody well making it difficult when-"

"Just stop!" She yells over him. "Stop. I'm not asking for something you can't give. I'm just asking for an explanation."

"I can't-"

"You can!" To her dismay, her eyes burn with tears that are bound to fall in a few seconds, but she's too far into it to turn around now. "It's been two fucking years, Simon. Two years. I've never pushed or pressured you, I've listened and sat here and tried to be the one you can come to, but you never do." She sniffles, wiping her tears away roughly.

He stays silent, visibly frustrated but letting her talk.

"Do you know what they say back at base?" She spits out. "About me? They say I've forced you into being with me." A hollow laugh. "That I've got some dirt on you that keeps you quiet, or that I'm just someone you pass the time at night with because everyone thinks that you want nothing to do with me during the day. They talk about why we're still together, why you're still with me when you clearly have no interest." Her tears are long forgotten, left to trail down her cheeks in rivers of hurt. "They say...they say I'm only on the 141 because of our relationship."

And that was what hurt the most. Her own skills undermined like that.

That startles him enough to pull his brows in confusion "I didn't know..."

"Of course you don't, why would they say it in front of the man who looks like he could snap their spines in half?"

She waits for him to speak. To say something, anything, but all he does is stare at her with those half-blank eyes that she can never decipher and it infuriates her because did he not just listen to what she's told him.

"You know what, forget it." She chokes out. "I'm done. I'm fucking done with this." She gestures to them both, vaguely watching his eyes widen with muted panic. Getting shoved into a woodchipper would be less painful than the hurt that tears through her chest, hiccupping on swallowed sobs.

"Hold on-"

"I can't be the only one keeping us both afloat." She reaches behind her for the doorknob. "I don't want that. I love you, Simon. I really do, but it hurts so fucking much when you act like I'm disposable, like you're ashamed of being seen with me."

The door is pulled open by her, and then roughly shoved shut by Simon. He moves quicker than she could register, behind the counter one moment and right in front of her the next. His hand stays firmly on the door, keeping it shut as he leans down to catch her gaze.

"Ashamed is the last thing I am about you." He says quickly, clumsily. "I-...fucking hell that's not right at all, love."

Simon is...he's panicking.

The thought strikes her immediately with the way his chest rises and falls quickly, the lack of that cold clipped grace in his voice.

"I don't care." She chokes on a cry, hands planting themselves firmly on his chest to shove him away. It's like nudging a brick wall. The man is immovable, standing in place with their bodies so close it feels like they're sharing heat. "I'm tired, and you're making it worse so let me go." He grabs her wrists, presses them against himself to keep her in place. His hands are warm, rid of the gloves he usually dons.

She's met with every inch of that scarred face of his. She hadn't noticed but he'd discarded his mask as he'd been rushing around the counter to get to her.

"Listen to me." He breathes, trying to get his thoughts straight and keep her there with him. He can't lose her, can't let her walk out the door because he's afraid that she might never come back. "Please."

It's the last word that pauses her struggle. Simon...he was someone who operated on orders and demands so the frantic and silent plea pushed into the word is enough to make her still for a moment.

And a moment is all he needs.

"I've never..." He thinks for a moment. Never has she seen him look so frazzled. He tries again. "Everyone I've ever loved has been killed." Her eyes widen at the declaration. "My family. My friends...everyone." His breath fans over her face with how he's leaned down, hot so very him. "I think I'm afraid if I show the world I love you it might try and take you from me too." Simon's voice breaks at the end, as if he's voiced something from his nightmares and despite the pain she's feeling the sound slices through her. "And I can't...I can't live with losing you too."

With bated breath, he waits for her to respond. Part of him can't bear to look her in the eyes after the admission but he finds himself staring at her face anyway, drinking in any sign of hope.

Hope. How long has it been since he's felt the warm rays of such a feeling?

Slowly, so slowly it makes his breath hitch, she tugs her hand free on his. For a moment Simon thinks she might push him away again and his heart sinks like a stone, but then her fingertips graze his face, her hands cup his cheeks and suddenly they interlock behind his head, pulling him in.

Simon crushes her into him, tucking her head under his chin with a shuddering breath of relief. He's not lost her, not completely.

Hope.

There was still such a thing for a man like him after all.

"I'm not going anywhere." She mumbles into the crook of his neck, the feeling of his lips moving on his skin sending a shiver up his spine. "I'm so sorry, Simon. If you'd told me that before I would have tried to help-..."

Simon shakes his head immediately, arms tightening around her. "I chose not to tell you. The thought of coming home and seeing you on the ground...bloody...like them." He swallows past the lump in his throat. "Fuck, I'm sorry I hurt you, sweetheart."

Simon didn't apologise often, so when he did that means he knows he's fucked up.

She does not tell him it's alright, that she forgives him or that he's fine. Because he's not. His apology, his honesty doesn't make the months of hurt go away. It still aches at her like before, but this time the ache has a meaning behind it. It has a reason.

They hold each other for a moment, against the door, two people knee-deep in a problem that's been brewing for weeks and weeks, bubbled over the edge in the ugliest way possible.

"I need you to try." She whispers after a moment, the barest of smiles gracing her face when he nods slowly.

"I know." He says simply against her hair. Gently swaying in each other's hold, both are content to stay there for a while, to calm their racing hearts with the knowledge that the other is still there, is real and solid under their hands.

And it's enough.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Change is a slow trek to an ever extending finish line.

Simon keeps his word. If there's anything it's good at, it's resilience. Though it makes him antsy and paranoid and dare he say slightly nervous to open such a part of him to somebody again, he tries.

He tried because he'd rather saw his own arm off than be the one who gives her a reason to leave. Not her. Not the best thing that's happened to him in years, the person who's managed to wake up Simon after years of being Ghost.

A subtle brush of hands as they walk.

An arm around her shoulder while they drink.

Thighs and sides pressed together as they take their seats on a heli.

The squeeze of her knee from under the table.

It builds and builds into something warm and new and fresh, a feeling that overshadows all the worry he had about the universe having a vendetta against him because if there was one good thing that Simon Riley wanted to keep, it was her.

Their weekend is filled with conversations, real conversations about things they've kept to themselves, worries and concerns, and moments of hesitance. He tries his best, though some words die on his tongue before he can get them out. She pushes him, but never more than he can take. Heart, body, and soul, she knows him like the back of her hand but he's the only one who can truly let her into his mind.

All that aside Simon also has another more personal task to work through once their weekend is over.

After paying some not-so-nice visits to more than a dozen people (to his absolute fury), she never once hears a peep of another disgusting rumour ever again.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!

(26/07/2023)

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kaetastic · 7 months

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tears going down my cheeks fr

loving simon is hard, it's difficult, yet always worth it.

simon would refuse physical touch in the relationship, till he found himself struggling at nighttime out on deployment without your touch.

simon would refuse to bake and eat with you, till he found himself wishing he could eat with you across the table, letting you talk his ears off instead of the eerie silence in his barracks.

simon would refuse your help when he was struggling with mental health, till he found himself holding back tears when he stared at himself in the mirror, realising how fucked up he really was, and how desperately he craved your affectionate words.

simon would refuse to stay longer in bed in the mornings, that he had things to do, till he found himself choking on his own blood, another bullet lodged into his chest as crimson seeped through his uniform, wishing he'd cuddled you just a little longer.

simon riley, who wouldn't dare let you know his feelings, who now wished he could tell you how much you meant to him, how he loved you so dearly, feeling himself slip into a haze he was familar with, bit knowing he wouldn't wake up.

simon riley, who wouldn't be able to marry you, or tell you his vows as he panted and gasped for air, the life you'd given him, running through his grasp as he succumbed to the fate many soliders like him were given. clutching his heart, the heart you warmed, simon riley.

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kaetastic · 7 months

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huffing and puffing because the angst was too good

I love your situationship fics with ghost!! I think you characterize him really well.

How do you think he’d react if the reader broke things off with him completely and started trying to move on?? Personally I think he’d pretend to be fine but as time goes on he’d start losing it and would want her back at any costs.

Tbh I think the “You fell first, but he fell harder” trope is perfect for them.

hii i’m so glad you like it!! thanks for the ask, i really appreciate knowing you’re invested in this au<3 i hope you like this one!

i think it’d go something like this ..

also read : ff!fwb!ghost headcannons | the bf/gf talk

angst central !!

you got into another huge fight that week. he didn’t even listen to what you had to say, he decided he had enough of the conversation a left you there in tears. you didn’t hear from him or call him for a few days after that.

it hurt your heart, but you knew what you needed to do now. almost a full year of letting him jerk you around and play with your feelings like you were nothing.

when he wanted to he could be so sweet, looking at you like he needed you in his life always. and when he wasn’t feeling that way he made it very clear that you were just temporary thing in his life.

you called him finally, telling him to come over and not giving him any context. you knew he thought this was you caving and letting him waltz back into your life to ruin again. your stomach felt like a huge knot while you waited, anxiously pacing around.

his heavy knocks on your door made you feel stiff. you let him in, subtly dodging his touches as you let him inside. you didn’t say anything and kept your distance as you followed him back into your apartment.

he sat down on your couch with a grunt, sitting in the same spot he always sat in. you watched him from the kitchen for a second, convincing yourself that this was the right thing.

he was talking to you but you weren’t listening, until he called your name. “what’s wrong with you?” you finally met his eyes and felt small under his stare. “come sit over here.” he demanded in a surprisingly gentle way.

you sat down next to him, keeping some distance because you knew as soon as you touched him you’d be back to putty in his hands.

“i don’t think i want this anymore,” you finally spoke. “i think we should stop seeing each other.”

he sighed and rubbed his eyes with his hand, “what are you talking about?”

“i don’t like the way i feel when i’m with you,” you swallowed hard to stop yourself from crying. you were lying of course, you loved him almost to the point of saying it a few times. the real thing that hurt you was watching him treat you like he felt the same way one second and then like he couldn’t care less about you the next.

he said your name and reached for you but you pulled away and continued, “we keep having the same argument over and over and i'm tired of it. i mean seriously, simon, what are we doing?”

he looked at you, this time is wasn’t anger or anything you’d seen before when you argued. he was looking into your eyes searching for something, some hint of doubt to tell him this wasn’t actually the end. but there was nothing there for him.

he had leaned up was resting his elbows against his knees then he tsked and nodded, looking down into his hands. “you don’t want me anymore?”

it shocked you, how sad his voice seemed like he never saw this coming in a million years, like he was the victim in this situation. but this wasn’t a question of if you wanted him or not, you’d let that part of you win too many times and it always left your heart broken.

“this is unhealthy simon,” you gestured between the two of you. “we have to stop, it doesn’t matter what we want because look where that got us.”

he lifted his head to face the ceiling and then stood up. he made quick steps towards the door and slipped his shoes back on. you followed him, calling his name one more time.

“you know you can’t come back, right?” your voice was soft as you held back your own tears. “i won’t let you back in.”

he finally turned to look at you, his eyes were red and glassy but his nose was flared like he was angry, “you take care of yourself, ok?” you both nodded at each other, then he left.

you cried for days after, it wasn’t technically a real break up but it still left you in pieces. for months you had to stop yourself from texting him and calling him when you felt lonely. you tossed the things he left at your place in a box and slid it under your bed, but that didn’t stop you from getting out one of his t-shirts to sleep in so you could be surrounded by what was left of him.

———

simon was different, less chatty if that was possible, shorter with his coworkers. he pushed everyone away, spending most of his nights trying to find the same comfort he found in you at the bottom of a bottle. it was never the same, he couldn’t feel you skin against his anymore or listen to you talk his ear off about your new book.

he checked on you still, taking walks so he could pass your building in hopes of catching a glimpse of you. months of doing this passed, he felt pathetic like a piece of himself was missing. he swore that if he saw you again he’d get on his knees and beg for forgiveness, a second chance, anything. he needed you in his arms again.

he rehearsed his apology over and over again during his walks, went over each time he should’ve said yes to you instead of leading you on. he was horrible to you and you still looked at him with nothing but those hopeful eyes. he took advantage of your feelings, made you feel small when he should’ve made you feel safe and adored because it’s what you deserved.

he was going to tell you that, tell you that he loved you and wanted to hold your hand and take you on dates and that he’d do anything you asked.

when he finally saw you outside your apartment, your smile was wide as ever. he felt his heart pick up and his palms get a little sweaty, this was his moment. he was going to prove himself to you.

then simon saw him, your fingers intertwined in his as you pulled him along. simon watched you turn around, the man’s hand came up to tuck some hair behind your ear and then kiss the hand that was in his.

he felt sick, like his brain was hot and his chest felt tight. he took a step back, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. of course you moved on, you had no obligation to him. you weren’t going to wait for him to get his shit together, especially not after the way he treated you.

he turned around, glancing over his shoulder one more time to see your smile rather than the tears from the last time he saw you. he had so many chances to change, but he fucking blew every single one.

***

i love angst🤭

pls reblog and comment!! i love seeing your reactions! also feel free to leave asks in my inbox so i can write more stuff you wanna read!

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kaetastic · 7 months

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this was so hot AHHSHXJXXNMD

Kitty 🕷️

Word count: 5K

Pairing: miguel x blackcat!reader

Summary: you’ve never had anyone able to stop you when doing crime, until now

Tags: 18+ smut. stealing, getting caught, chasing, flirting, teasing, falling into temptation, exhibitionism, making out, fingering, blowjob, back blown out, choking, unprotected sex

notes: I originally wanted the other black cat out but that one is way longer so I thought I’d finish off the shorter of the two first🫡

the beginning is mostly the same to the second but it splits off to their own thing at a specific point! Also peep my fav pic I took🫶🏼

The notorious Black Cat of New York, loved all things shiny, kicking ass, and using her seducing skills to the best of her ability when needed. Never exactly aiming to have turned out like her father but what can one do when kidnapped by Kingpin and are forcibly meant to be his Guinea pig?

Getting created to be a super soldier that was also a seductress? What else would this have led to?

On the bright side who else was able to rob banks and also be able to stop other criminals from doing so, before she gets to hit them herself? None other than yourself, of course.

Obviously no one was able to stop the infamous Black Cat or retrieve all the things she'd steal. The cops were completely and utterly useless, slow and dumb. So you always got away and were able to profit off all the high end jewelry you'd steal.

You were going to hit up a jewelry store, to steal a few brand new diamonds for yourself. In your oh so casual Black Cat attire that consisted of a black spandex suit with the matching mask covering your eyes, along with the realistic long silver wig.

You were somewhat unrecognizable, but it wasn'tlike anyone from your personal life was gonna be robbing banks or jewelry stores. There'd be no reason for anyone in your life to see you when you were doing Black Cat activities.

And with no one to stop you, you were golden. Or were you?

I quickly turned off the security system in the jewelry store from the alley right next to it, I grabbed my bag of goodies and I hid my special tablet behind some trash before quickly going inside by the side door. It was vacant, as expected.

I went to the back of the store and look at the cases with the newest necklaces and rings embedded with shiny diamonds. I trail a finger along the glass and look down at the casing filled with only diamond rings.

I walked along the back of the store, looking at everything, the shiniest of rings and earrings until I spotted the most gorgeous necklace.

Filled with diamonds shaped like flower petals all along the neckline with a leaf shape hanging down with more diamonds around the shape, with a red ruby sitting perfectly right in the middle of it. My eyes flicker with admiration and want, I needed it.

I take my bag off from my shoulder and place it on the floor quickly opening it to grab something to open it. Then I stop and stand up walking to the back of the case and scoff. The key.

What kind of dumbasses leave the fucking key out?

I shrug and roll my eyes unlocking the little door and take the necklace out carefully. No alarm.

I close the case and walk back to my bag and stuff it in one of its pockets then zip it up. I pick it up putting the strap back on my shoulder and walk around the store, stopping when something caught my eye.

I walk over to it and chuckle. How ironic... a gold necklace with a cat hanging out and yet another red ruby being held by it's little collar.

How could I not?

I grab a small tool with a pointy end and walk to the back of the counter. I kneel down and quickly unlock the little door and in just a few seconds it clicks open. I slide the door open and grab the necklace admiring the pretty ruby.

I stand up and grab a few other pieces then walk around the counter and back to my bag. I put them all in another pocket carefully then close it shut.

I wrap my bag around my shoulders and head towards the side door, not really wanting anything else. I open the door and close it quietly before making my way to pick up my tablet from where I left it.

Sure enough it was there and I quickly turned the security system back on before climbing on top of the roof.

I walk along the edge of the roof looking at the view, admiring all the buildings and the glowing moon right above them. I jumped off roof to roof for about half an hour, staring out, as I make my way home.

I was hopping off rooftops while admiring the moonlight and feeling the nice cold breeze. I was one block away from my apartment building when I heard a loud thump behind me. I quickly withdraw my claws and turn around, ready to pounce but I look up and see a huge man in front of me, in some kind of superhero suit? "And who might you be?" I ask, looking at the mysterious man up and down. Damn....

"That doesn't concern you." He snarls and I lift my hands up in fake defense.

"Okay sensitive-" I say and snicker.

“Shut up-“

"Okay well if it doesn't concern me then I'll just be on my way." I say and turn to walk away but his hand quickly grips my shoulder and turns me back around.

His hand then went to my back and some talons appeared out of his arms and he brought one up to my neck. I raised an eyebrow and chuckle, "ah so that's how this is gonna be...."

He's about to say something when I quickly shove him off me and lift my knee up to his crotch, hitting him hard, he groans and his grip on me loosened giving me a chance to quickly escape. I push him off me and make a run for it, jumping onto the next roof while he curses under his breath before I soon heard him land on the same rooftop, but I was about to jump to the next one already.

"Shit-" I curse under my breath and run as fast as I could and jump on the absolute last bit of every rooftop.

Suddenly I feel something wrap around my body, I look down, widening my eyes looking at some kind of red rope and the stranger pulling it making me step towards him. I groan and roll my eyes, "this isn't very nice y'know..."

"Good, it's not meant to be." He mutters walking to me and quickly grabs the straps of my bag, slipping it off my shoulders making me growl.

"Don't-"

"Cute, you think you can tell me what to do." He says, his tone cocky. The nerve.

I shut my eyes and slowly cut through a piece of the rope with my claws, I did it as slowly as I can to not alert him in anyway, let him have his little victory before I snatch my things back and go home. "So who are you?" I ask, annoyed and wanting to fill the silence.

He unzips my bag in front of me and takes out the flower petal diamond necklace first, I bite my lip and roll my eyes. Oh how badly I wanted to just claw my way out of this-

But no, not yet..

"Ah so the little cat likes diamonds huh?" He tuts making me smirk.

"Only girl's best friend." I say and pout, "and you're still gonna take 'em away from me?"

"'Course,” he starts then grins, “Don't think you can play me with your little games and antics, kitty I'm not gonna fall for it." He says looking at me sternly.

I smirk and shrug, "every man has his own weak point."

He scoffs and shakes his head, "you're unbelievable."

"Unbelievably irresistible?" I say in a soft voice making him chuckle.

"You just don't stop do you?" He mutters and looks at what else is in my bag.

He pulls out my tablet and I bite my lip, cutting through another piece of rope. He holds it up to me and I just smile, "find anything you like?"

He shakes his head in disbelief and mutters something unintelligible and I just flutter my lashes at him, just gotta keep him distracted for as long as I can.

He's definitely not a cop, some kind of superhero? Like those corny movies? I shake my thoughts away and cut through another piece.

Just a few more and I’ll be able to wiggle out…

“So stranger you’re not gonna introduce yourself? Don’t you have any manners?” I tease and smirk when he rolls his eyes.

He sighs and puts everything back where he found it, zipping every pocket and swings the straps over his shoulder. My eyes make their way to my bag but then land on his body. Jesus his biceps- broad shoulders- holy fuck the way he’d look so good on to-

“Spiderman.” He says abruptly interrupting my thoughts.

“What?” I say and blink, confused.

“Names spiderman.” He says and I chuckle.

“I’m sorry-“ I say and laugh, “like a tarantula spider?” I ask and he nods.

“What were you bit by a spider?” I joke and laugh.

He shakes his head and smirks through his mask. Hmm wonder what he looks like-

“I wasn’t but others were.” He says nonchalantly and I just raise an eyebrow.

“Okay… well that’s… something.” I say still confused and shrug.

My claws cut through another two pieces and I sigh, “well Spiderman, it was nice meeting you but I really gotta head home.”

He raises an eyebrow at me with a singular pull on the ropes they all fell to the floor, he looked at me mouth agape and shocked. “Would really love to stay and chat but I’m not really in the mood to seduce my way out tonight.” I say casually and shrug, walking to the edge of the roof.

I withdraw my own talons and quickly take my bag off him and wrap it across my chest, and point one to his chest, only lightly grazing his suit. Then trace along his collarbone while staring at his masked eyes, “but maybe we can do that in the future." I whisper giving him a wink, before quickly running to the edge and jump off the roof.

I landed on a set of stairs for a random apartment building, I quickly hop off the side of them and slide down a pipe before sprinting down the alley and running towards my apartment.

I somehow made it without being followed, I made it to side of the building since it was on a corner. I unzipped my bag and took out a jacket before quickly putting it on and zipping it up. I take off my mask and stuff it in my pocket then grab my keys and go through the front door.

I walk towards the elevator and press the button and it immediately opens up. I walk in and press the button to my floor and it moves up. I sigh and lean against the wall, and not a single scratch on me.

It dinged and I quickly walk out and turn to the right, walking towards my apartment. I unlock the door, walking in and place the bag on the floor carefully before closing the door and putting the two locks on them. Another successful robbery.

And thus the Black Cat finally had someone worthy of being able to capture her. Sure it wasn't completely successful on Spiderman's behalf but it was the closest anyone has even gotten.

That robbery wasn't your first of almost getting caught, if anything it was the start of a long lasting game of cat and mouse.

Sometimes he'd go easy on you. Sometimes you wouldn't try so hard to escape. But every time, both of you would keep your interactions going for as long as you could, not getting enough of each other.

Both feeling the upmost attraction to one another but Spiderman doesn't want to fall into temptation while Black Cat continues to press on.

The thrill of it all being almost too much for both parties, but neither could help but want to continue this back and forth game.

Will Black Cat continue to press on or give up?

Will Spiderman stay strong or fall into his deepest desires?

"Spider! So glad you could make it tonight!" I say enthusiastically looking up at my new favorite person to stumble upon when I’m out stealing.

"Well I can't just let you steal more now can I, kitty?” He says looking down at me.

I bite my lip and can't help but admire his body again, like I do every time. just completely ignoring what he said. "You look good Spidey, have you been working out recently?" I ask as I place my bag down on the floor of the roof we were on.

"Maybe a bit." He says and gets off the edge of the roof and steps in front of me, still holding my gaze.

"Getting prettier kitty?" He says taking another step closer to me as I smile.

"Just for you." I whisper and quickly wrapping my arms behind his neck and lean up.

I felt his breath on my lips as I looked into his masked eyes, curiosity getting the best of me as I bring a hand to his neck and grabbing on the end of his mask slowly bringing it up. He instantly brings a hand up to stop me but I swat him away and only bring the mask above his lips.

Such pretty pink plump lips.

I let my thumb lightly graze his bottom lip, I feel it shake a little making me grin. "You could just give in y'know." I whisper and move my hand to go down and trail along his shoulder.

He chuckles and shakes his head, "you know I can't."

"But we both know you want to." I murmur and move my head to look at his neck.

I leave the smallest of soft and open-mouthed kisses I can give as I feel his breathing speed up and his hands going back to grip my waist. I go up and lightly nibble on his earlobe making him moan and tilt his head back. I pull away and go back down to his neck, leaving wet kisses along his warm skin before I find the perfect spot to suck on.

I suck gently on his skin then let my tongue graze against his skin then leave a kiss on the new bruise. He lets out a moan and I feel him grip my waist a bit harder making me giggle. "Can't even deny it, can you Spidey?" I tease and he shakes his head no.

I leave kisses all along his neck then up his throat and against his Adam's apple, I felt the vibration of a groan against my mouth making me shiver with pure excitement as I squeezed my thighs together. "You know I can't kitty." He purrs making me bite my lip.

I pull away from him and he brings a hand up from my waist and takes off the rest of his mask. I widen my eyes but before I could properly admire him, he smashed our lips together in a very hungry kiss.

I kiss him back with the same intensity, my hands going up to his hair as his went down to my waist, bringing me as close to him as possible. I tug on his hair making him groan so I slide my tongue in ready to explore every inch but I soon felt his tongue on mine.

I felt my breathing getting unsteady quickly and felt butterflies all over my skin as the kiss was growing more passionate. I let him slide his tongue into my mouth when I felt a hard smack against my ass making me moan. His movements become more frantic and fast, I felt both of his hands squeezing and spanking my ass making me whimper against his mouth.

He pulls away since we were both starting to lose our breath, I try to calm myself down as he continued smacking my ass, surely making it red under my spandex. "You're so pretty." He murmurs and moves his head down to kiss my neck gently.

I let out a shaky breath and feel my eyes flutter as I tilt my head back to give him more access. "So pretty." He murmurs against my skin making me moan and squeeze my thighs.

"I need you-" he purrs moving his hand to my inner thigh.

"Then have me." I breathe out and he groans.

He reached for the zipper by my neck and slowly brings it down. It goes down my chest as he continues dragging it down and stops at my stomach. He looks up and moans as I take my arms out of the suit, revealing my bare tits to him. His hands immediately went to squeeze them not having a care in the world that we were out in public on a random roof of a building.

He squeezed them both at the same time then started pinching both nipples making me yelp because he did it too hard so fast, he muttered a quick apology before he goes down and takes turns sucking on each sensitive nub. My hands went up to his hair as his were pulling the rest of my suit down, "eager are we?" I tease before letting out a moan as he reached down to rub to my covered pussy.

"You can't blame me," he mutters then pulls away and going down to his knees, "it's not my fault you look this fucking good." He says leaving the smallest of kisses on my inner thighs.

I let out a shaky breath and move back to lean against a pole, he scoots forward and leaves a kiss right over my clothed clit. "Spider-"

He hums as his hands slide up and quickly brings my panties down. He gets them off my legs and spreads my legs, gently blowing air along my now exposed pussy. He moans as he brings two fingers and gently rubs along my folds, my slickness enveloping them. “God you’re so fucking wet for me baby.” He moans and I feel my legs shake.

I nod and bite my lip, taking the sight below me in awe. He looked so fucking good.

"Might just have to take you like this baby..." he murmurs before his mouth finally makes contact with my pussy.

"Oh fuck-" I moan and bring my hand down to grip his curls.

He starts devouring it as if it were his last meal and with one finger teasing my entrance making me buck my hips around his face. "Please-" I whimper and slowly move my hips.

He moans against me making me let out a whine because of how delicious the vibration felt and I feel his finger slip in, and slowly make its way inside. My walls clenching against his finger as he quickly shoved it then back out and back in again.

He repeated this motion a few times and right when I was going to complain when he slowed down, he added another finger and actually started fucking me right.

The only thing being heard on the rooftop being my moans and the sounds that were coming from between my legs, everything else was silent. And thank god for that.

He pumps them inside at a faster pace and curls his fingers up making sure to hit that spot perfectly. “Fuck- just like that Spider-“ I moan out, leaning my head back.

"So fucking dirty-" he mumbles not stopping his pace.

"Huh letting me do this to you out in public kitty? Don’t even care if we get caught? You like this don't you?" He murmurs and I bite my lip, nodding as he looks up at me.

"Look at me and tell me how much you love it." He demands, going deeper making me a moaning mess above him.

I look down and lock my gaze to his eyes, "I love it so much- fuck! F-feels so good." I whimper and lean back on to the pole.

"That's a good girl." He purrs and I feel myself clench against him, holy fuck-

He then leans in and starts sucking on my clit hungrily as he continues fucking me. I move my hips against his face and clasp my hand over my mouth feeling my orgasm quickly approaching. “S-Spider-“

Instead of responding he adds a third finger, fucking me deeper as all my arousal spills out. My legs began shaking and I tried to pull away but he quickly wrapped his other arm around me making me stay still. I move my hand away from my mouth and just let out bundles of cries as my orgasm hits.

He slowed down and kept fucking me letting me ride out my high while leaving me absolutely breathless. My heart was beating fast and my breathing was hard, I was trying my hardest to calm myself down but it just felt so good.

He finally stopped moving his fingers and just let them deep inside me, only slowly pulling them out. He pulls away from my soaked clit and looks up at me with a smile, my juices glistening on his lips and dribbling down his chin.

I chuckle and give him a lazy smile as he finally pulls his fingers out, I instantly feel more of my juices come out and I squeeze my thighs together. Can’t just leak all over this roof….

I finally feel my breathing being steady and widen at the sight of him sucking on his fingers, having a taste of me. I roll my eyes back and moan, he looked so fucking good.

He slips his fingers out and gets up from his knees, standing up in front of me, “You taste fucking amazing kitty.” He groans and I immediately pull him in for a kiss.

He moans against my mouth as I get a taste of myself as well, surprisingly sweet. I let him slide his tongue into my mouth as I have a hand travel down to his hard bulge.

I lightly rub it as I kiss him back hungrily and only start stroking it when he moans in my mouth. I pull away and grin, lips trailing down his mouth, to his chin, jaw, then neck. I kiss around his neck then suck on the soft skin before licking it gently.

I continue stroking him through his suit and the moans escaping his lips were just so delicious to my ears while I kept leaving marks on his neck. “You gotta get rid of this suit Spider.” I murmur and he moans in agreement.

He pulls away from me and taps the back of his neck and suddenly the bottom half of his suit disintegrated revealing his thick and long cock spring up against his stomach. I bite my lip and without a second thought drop down to my knees.

I immediately take hold of it and start licking the precum off the tip, making sure to get every last drop. I don't waste anymore time and take him into my mouth, trying to take as much of him as I can. Only able to take half at first and already gagging had me thinking of how this would be a tight fit.

He was going to make me feel so tight as if it were the first time all over again but maybe he'd fit to perfect and fuck me so good. I felt drool drip down my chin and I realized I was taking more of him now.

I pulled out and look up at him with innocent eyes before sticking my tongue out and slap the tip on it. He groans and takes hold of my ponytail, leading me back to taking him.

I moan as he takes control and slowly thrusts his hips into my face, making me more and more wet. I closed my eyes and moved my head as well now taking him all the way that his trimmed hairs lightly tickled my nose. "Just like that- fuck just like kitty." He moans out and thrusts again making me gag.

He pulled on my hair and made me go back to his tip then thrusted his hips forward, then back until he decided to just start fucking my face. I let it happen and just look up at him all teary eyed as my throat was getting fucked.

Suddenly he pulls away and grabs my arm making me stand up with him. He wipes the drool off the side of my cheeks and then flips me over and bends me making me take hold of the pole.

He makes me arch my back and stick my ass out when I feel him position himself to my entrance. He moved his tip up and down my folds even to my clit then down to my aching hole then needed to be filled up again.

As if hearing my thoughts he slowly pushed himself inside making me immediately clench against his tip and having us both moan. He already felt so big and he was only barely inside...

I took a deep breath in then let it out and he takes hold of my hips as I grip on to the pole tightly. He pushes himself in and I could only guess it was about halfway before he slammed the rest in. "Fuck!!!" I whimper and move my ass against him earning myself a hard smack.

"You're so fucking tight." He groans and rubs my skin as he pulls back then slams himself into me again.

I moan and lean my head against the pole as he slowly starts to fuck me. After a few slow thrusts and he notices I've gotten comfortable and use to his size he finally starts going faster.

I bit my lip hard really trying to stay as quiet as I can, almost feeling bad if we wake anyone up but also the thought going away immediately when I feel a hand against my throat. I breathe in and quickly regret it for obvious reasons even though his grip wasn't too tight.

He then forces my throat back, making me stand up straight as he fucks me harder. I roll my eyes back and against his hard chest, his hand still wrapped around my throat as I forcibly hold back moans as he pounds into me. "God this pussy feels so good." He moans making me breathe out and hold on to his arm wanting a release.

He groans and fucks me even harder, his grip on my throat now being slightly tighter. A combination of a mewl and a cry escape my lips making him chuckle as he brings his lips to my ear, gently nibbling on it.

His lips then went down to the side of my neck and his other hand around my waist. His hand then trailed down to my stomach and he pressed it above my belly button making me clench.

He lets out of my throat and I let out cries as he continues pressing on my stomach, it feeling unbearably strange but good. "Fuck!! Spider- fuck- feels s-so- g-good." I choke out and he grunts.

"You're taking me so well baby- fuck- feel that? Mmm feel how much you're taking right now?" He moans into my ear running a shiver down my spine.

He brings his hand down to my waist while the other stayed where he was buried deep inside me. I'd never felt this before and it just felt so good. Also had me noticing how I was able to take all of him at once.

"Please- fuck me harder- deeper please." I moan out and he groans.

He does just that and slams his hips into mine making me cry out and hold on to his arms. "Fuck-"

I felt the all too familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach as he continued ramming into me earning all kinds of noises leaving my mouth. "I'm so close-"

He holds onto me tighter and just this size difference alone might've thrown me over the edge if I really thought about it considering how huge he was compared to me. "Let go baby. I wanna feel you cum around me." He murmurs and I nod.

With one final deep thrust my orgasm hit hard and i felt my legs almost give up but I was held tightly and didn't worry about falling. I felt my body shake as he shot his cum deep inside me and I could hear his moans in my ear.

I leaned my head against his chest and I felt his chin on top of my head, and I think he kissed it? I wasn't sure if I felt that right but I was too fucked out to question it.

He slowly pulls out and I could have swore I felt him twitch inside me as he was pulling out. Finally I felt his tip pop out and I instantly feel my pussy gush out all his cum. I chuckle and look down as it spills to the floor, guess it was gonna leak anyway...

"You took me so well kitty." He purrs into my ear and I grin turning my head to look at him.

"You fucked me so well spider," I murmur looking deeply into his eyes, "even better than I'd have ever imagined." I whisper and he crashes his lips onto mine.

I kiss back and turn my body to face him as his hands explore my body while mine go behind his neck. "We've gotten so this more often." I murmur against his mouth and he just nods.

"Absolutely." He mutters and smacks my ass.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader

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kaetastic · 8 months

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A Refined Taste

Modern AU (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) series — COMPLETED

But if you send for me, you know I'll come And if you call for me, you know I'll run - Old Money by Lana del Rey

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Rating: Explicit/18+

Summary: Your older sister's been dating Helaena Targaryen for three years now and this summer you both get invited to the generations old Targaryen mansion, finally having the chance to see the famous seaside vineyard the family owns. You're excited to get reacquainted with Helaena's family, remembering the lasting impression Aegon made on you, in consequence leaving you quite infatuated with him. What you weren't expecting was the other brother, Aemond, capturing your attention this time.

Old money. Sunsets by the sea. Reading, swimming, horseback riding. And, of course, exquisite wine. What else does one need in a place like this? Well, maybe some romance to make the stay even more memorable.

Part 1: Old Money

Part 2: Sunset and Vine

Part 3: White Sunshine

Part 4: High by the Beach

Part 5: Cashmere Cologne

Part 6: Atonement

Part 7: Chemtrails Over the Country Club

Part 8: You're My Religion, I Need Your Love

Part 9: Summertime Sadness

Part 10: Endless Summer

Part 11: Honeymoon

Part 12 (Epilogue): Swan Song

AO3

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Feel free to let me know if you’d like to be included in this specific series tag or a general Aemond tag ♡

#aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader

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kaetastic · 8 months

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guys i need pillow tear stained, sobs racking throughout my body, actually heart shattering hurt/comfort or just angst fics rn so recs 🙏

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kaetastic · 8 months

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when you said slow burn you meant SLOW BURN BECAUSE I AM SLOWLY BURNING ON THE INSIDE FILLED WITH ANGST AND SADNESS I LOVE IT 😭😭😭 you write so beautifully and i just love the speeches and everything, its so GOOD!!! definitely gonna reread when i want to feel sad HAHAHA

resentment. part five

part one. part two. part three. part four.

!! warnings: strong language and themes, you know the rest :)

Simon was lying down on his bed, staring at the wall. His brown eyes scanned the ceiling, searching for something to take off his mind. Something to drive him far, far away from all this mess. The mess he had created.

It was unusual, unusual for him to be the reason for someone else's suffering.

He stopped meeting with Amelia.

'Nonsense. You were the one who stuck to me, I never wanted any of this. It is not okay.' were his last words to her.

She nodded and walked away, it's not like love existed in the military anyway.

Look, it wasn't like his teammates drifted away from him or something, they continued to treat him the same- but the atmosphere was slightly different when he was around. It was heavier like the oxygen slowly escaped through the window when he appeared. It was an uneasy feeling, and Price didn't like any bit of it. He talked to him about the situation when you first left, but with your absence, there was nothing to look for in terms of progress.

You were a soldier for years, and have never taken a break since. You have a few honor medals here and there. You for sure were respected on base- that was the reason why you were in the 141. Every recruit adored you.

Captain Price didn't know if Simon had sent any letters before that, and he didn't have the right to see if he had in the first place. It was absolutely Simon's responsibility to fix this, but how will he approach it? It's not like he is not a full-grown adult, he can fix it all by himself. He will send a letter, of course. But he never wrote any letters, what will he do?

Simon was too afraid to ask for any help, he was always like that. Afraid that people will know that he is uncertain, that he doesn't know what to do.

He tried to sit down to write something multiple times, but he never got to anything. There were pieces of paper scattered all around his room all scrunched up, all of the attempts to contact you. It was hard for him to express his emotions, so there was absolutely no hope left.

He closed his eyes, trying to give peace to his mind in order to figure something out. What could he write in this situation?

Hello, how were you?

Hey...

Look, I know...

Good day, isn't it?

Everything seemed so stupid to him. Every word he tried to come up with sounded worse and worse. It felt like he was going to write a business email by reflex. It was like every syllable scraped his tongue like sand. The ideas in his mind were flowing at a rapid pace, like how Formula 1 cars chase each other for victory. Every word felt like a plead. Please come back, please, I need you.

His eyebrows furrowed, physically showing his irritation.

'What do I do?' Is all his mind repeated over and over again

He finally opened his eyes, his pupils adjusting to the darkness in the room. It was the end of fall, the start of winter, and the breeze flowing through the windows got colder and colder as time passed. The outline of the trees colored the walls, letting the light create all types of shapes. His eyes trailed to the window, which was slightly agape. He looked at it for a while before sitting up in his bed. The hesitance was growing in his mind, but he chose to ignore it all as he walked to the window, opening a pack of his old cigarettes- a habit that he tried to quit. There was no one to hide his packs anymore.

He grabbed one cigarette and lit it up, leaning his arms on the windowsill. The guilt in him was growing bigger with every puff he did, but he couldn't focus on that.

'She will get so mad if she sees me.'

But, she won't.

The smoke traveled with the wind, glazing through the wood as the smell faded away. He looked up at the sky. It was past midnight, so the full moon glowing down at him. All big and round, shining at him, making his eyes squint slightly.

He wondered if you were looking at it at the same time- and you were. God forbid, you were looking at the moon every night, hoping for change, hoping that the following day will bring you peace.

In the following moment, the pen was in his hand.

"The moon is pretty bright tonight, isn't it?

You said that when you were feeling unwell you would look up at the moon, and the thought of other people looking in the same direction as you made you feel less lonely. I see you in the moon every night.

Remember that one time we were on night duty? When it was another full moon, and you were looking at it. I could see every star reflecting off of your eyes, like a whole universe, at that moment. The wind blew your hair in front of your face, the pleasant smell of it hitting me in the face with every breath I took. You do smell really good.

This moment alone made me realize that maybe there was a calmness in this whole chaos. The first time where the silence didn't make me suffer. You brought peace into my life, and I took it away from yours.

Letters won't hold up all the things I need to tell you, and no punishment in hell would be enough for the things I've done. You have every right to not forgive me, because I will never forgive myself.

S."

Simon wasn't an award-winning writer, but that was all that he could manage to write. He couldn't bring himself to write more, it would take him days just to finish it. His mind was full enough, and the fact that he had mastered the courage was impressive.

You sat in your kitchen again, a cup of tea on your side as you held the paper in your hands, letting it scrape your fingers. A slight smile on your face as your eyes twinkled in the morning sun.

"Hello from the other side!

How are you feeling? We hope that home welcomed you nicely, (I would kill for a swig of scotch right now- J.)

Base is just as boring as it always was, even more boring without you around. We found these sketches at safe house 132, they are probably yours, they are pretty nice ones. We decided to draw you something as well. Don't you dare sell it to an art gallery, we know it's so beautiful, but it is for you! Unfortunately, that is all are allowed to send in, you know how it is :(

We bet it is freezing in your area, England can be cruel like that in the winter.

Anyhow, we wish you a peaceful break. And don't forget to bring gifts on your way back! Hope to hear from you soon!

All is well,

J, K, A :)"

You saw the small pieces of paper in the envelope- ones you drew on when a snowstorm hit on the way back from a mission, causing you to crash in one of the safe houses. There were drawings of all kinds of sea creatures- whales, sharks, and types of small fishes. Over them you wrote small passages of poetry- it really wasn't anything serious, just small words with big meanings.

The letter also included one piece of paper full of small doodles from your teammates. There were animals, faces, and flowers. It was amusing really- imagine three grown men sitting together and putting this up for you. This small gesture alone made you smile, the first genuine smile in a long time. You left the paper on the table as you took a sip from your tea, the warmth healing your throat. It has been a long week- it started snowing in your area, which you thought you would've liked, but you really didn't.

The thoughts in your head were just as confusing. What the hell was happening? You were a grown soldier, you had discipline, you had a strong heart... what was wrong with you??

It was like everything started melting slowly. You didn't have enough energy to go to the supermarket to do groceries, you barely kept yourself awake, and you couldn't even run a mile. You felt your fingers tighten around the mug, did you really want to open that last envelope? Your heart started beating rapidly, making your head slightly dizzy. You felt your limbs fall asleep, and suddenly your head weighed what seemed to be 100 pounds heavier. Soon enough, you were fast asleep on the table. You had fainted again.

Fainting was a coping mechanism your body was used to before when you were a teenager. Not only because of your eating disorder but also because of the stress you put yourself through. You were troubled at a young age. You forced yourself to suck up all the pain like a sponge. That was the reason you were like that at the moment.

You knew that holding in your emotions wasn't the resolution to your problems, but it was easier. That was why you became severely attached to the first person you shared your problems with. The first person who gave you a taste of what comfort felt like. You were reminded that, indeed, people had their own lives. But you were so... scared. What if you weirded him out? What if he had lost interest in putting up with you? What if he lost interest in you?

You cried so much, you wanted to feel his touch- his fingers up and down your back, his sweet voice in your ear, his dumb jokes, all in order to make you feel better, all while he was suffering from himself.

You missed this attention. Feeling like you mattered in someone's life? Feeling like you were finally valuable? And not just a dirty rag full of pain and emotions??

Were you going to feel like that again? After causing all this fuss... all because you felt bad. You wanted to bang your head against a wall, why did you do that? You should've sucked it up, to forget about everything. But now you were in your old apartment, passed out on the table, the cup of tea- now cold, just sitting over the papers.

A wave of shock went through your body as a thought struck your head.

'What will happen if you return? What if I acted like nothing had happened?'

'What kind of fucking idea is that?!'

Years ago, when you first decided to see a therapist, there was something she had told you about. You couldn't remember the correct name- but it was something along the lines of 'fake it till you make it' sort of thing. It was entirely possible for you to return... to forget about it... maybe change your whole personality- no, cut that- you could try to talk with Simon, you know? Instead of running away from your problems, like the little girl you were.

Running won't save you, not when you are running from yourself. Make yourself known, talk to people, let your anger out, let yourself feel. Instead of cutting yourself in order to feel something external, share a hug from a friend. Pretend like you were bigger than your own problems... because you were.

John Price went into his office, closing the door behind him. He sat in his chair, sighing. It was a long day for him and the coldness just made it a hell lot harder. There was a long pause until his radio went off, which he immediately rushed to turn on. It was a thing that rarely happened, so he became a little cautious.

"..."

"Captain... it's 2104 (your code), do you copy?"

He sighed in relief. It was just you.

"Yes, Sergeant. What is the matter?"

"I would like to request a time for return. Approximately in a few days."

He stared at the radio in slight confusion.

"Affirmative... is there a particular reason?"

"No reason, sir."

You and your reasons...

"Return as soon as you can, I'll inform the team."

You froze for a couple seconds.

'I'm really doing this, aren't I?' you thought to yourself.

"Sergeant? Do you copy?"

You blinked, immediately replying.

"Yes, sir."

There was a slight pause.

"Have a safe travel, Sergeant."

"Thank you, Captain."

There was a bleep, symbolizing the end of the conversation.

It took time to settle in... three, two, one

...

"WHAT DID I JUST DO?!" you whisper- yelled, your hand on your forehead. You stood up, pacing around in your room.

"No, no, no. This is not happening right now."

"What do I do? What do I say?... I should leave the military."

Definitely not doing that.

"Now people are going to think I'm crazy!"

Not far from the truth.

"Why is this happening to me?!"

Girl, you did this to yourself.

"Do I just get in and be like, 'Hi, guys! I'm sorry for leaving without telling you all, probably making you think I passed away! I've missed you!', and pretend like nothing happened?"

Most precisely, yes.

You packed your stuff, leaving the envelope on the bed. You can't just read it now.

The next day was your flight to the base...

What did you get yourself into?

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.☆.｡.:

I am SORRY for making y'all wait for this long. I accidentally wrote this part way longer than it was supposed to be, so the other half would be in the next part (which is going to be the final one), and then my mind went blank. The ideas just went outside my head!! Anyway, I really hope you forgive me! I love you all, sending a lot of hugs and kisses <3

#simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty x reader

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kaetastic · 8 months

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one minute i could be wanting to read the most sluttiest, jaw dropping, ghosts scaring, toe curling, cat flying smut.

the next i be wanting to read the most chest hurting, breathing problem causes, chest burning, tears rolling down my face into my hair, heart breaking angst.

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kaetastic · 8 months

Text

the way im kicking under my sheets rn 😭😭 NSJDJCJCKCMC I FRICKING LOVE HOW YOU DESCRIBED CREGAN’S SPERM 😭😭😭 LMAOO THAT WAS SO OUT OF POCKET BUT FITS SO WELL IN HOW PLAYFUL THEY ARE AS A DUO LMAO. adore how we’re getting a bite more action from aemond (and cregan WINK WONK WINK WONK) i missed cregan a bit but now i’m satisfied HAHAHA 🙏🙏 aemond speaking high valayrian is so hot in my head im actually a bit TOO excited for reading something out of words 😭😭 LOVEE!!

part four | oh honey, you can do better than that

❝Call me that again and I'm sniping Cregan Jr.❞

chapter summary | How does Aemond Targaryen actually feel about you? Ft. Post Sex Limited Hot Water Shower, Totally, Definitely Not Phone Sex, and Jealousy, My Old Friend and His Pal, Misunderstanding

wc: 4,981 | +18 MDNI | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

series masterlist contains— gets fabulously smutty, fluff, angsty, sort of hurt/comfort - there is some high valyrian phone sex thing going on but its not really phone sex - nsfw: creampie, doggy style(?), rough sex, (f) masturbation - no gods, no kings, no betas. a/n— this became way longer than initial thought sjdhsjhds, so the scene that was supposed to end it on wil lhappen next chapter shdjsh + comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

You know when in books, they tell you that when you kiss someone, the world explodes in colour and feeling, in metaphors and fireworks? They forgo the physical description almost, to focus on how it feels to kiss someone.

How sometimes, when you kiss someone, you float through five different memories— three of does you don't actually have, but you know, metaphors, memories you can remember in feeling, your body astral projecting to other lifetimes because a kiss is just that good?

Kissing Aemond Targaryen is the opposite. Kissing him grounds you.

You can't think in colour or firework, only the feeling of his soft lips hum against your mouth, how your tongue drags a seam over his bottom lip and he groans, and his hands are on you, on your back, on the back of your head, devouring you in a feverish haze of soft, insistent— borderline desperate — kissing.

You get lost in him, how he tastes, how he feels, how he kisses.

Like, like— how his thumb, over the nape of your neck to press you close, holding you there, pressing on a sensitive skin behind your ear that makes you tickle, that makes a breathless giggle slip past your lips, and he chases the sound with his mouth. He is possessive in his hold, moving you so he can kiss you better, deeper.

Here comes the metaphor— but Aemond kisses like a conqueror, and you're weak and willing, falling into his chest, gripping his really, really nice button up shirt, trying not to sigh too loud or gods forbid moan, because in the back of your mind, you know you're in public.

But when Aemond kisses to conqueror, the world mutes. He takes your senses as much as he is trying to de-virginise your mouth, regardless if it wasn't a virgin in the first place. Aemond kisses like he is devouring not just you and your mouth, but any remnant of everyone else.

Someone— the bartender — coughs and you pull away, breathing heavily. You don't open your eyes because you're embarrassed and disoriented, but you feel another kiss, not on your lips but on your top cheek, just below your eye. It's chaste. Sweet. It curls your insides and edges and you kinda wanna let him conquer you again.

"Ñuha riña," he murmurs against your skin. He tugs your head back, that thumb on the back of your ear, the other hand, curled over your hip, squeezing you lightly, and you finally open your eyes. Complication and lust wars in his gaze, but when your eyes drop to his swollen lips, you bit your own as you try not to sigh in want.

You are Helaena's best friend, you think, still staring at how red and juicy his lips had gotten, Father Have Mercy I Am Only A Woman My Vagina Is Throbbing Help. You cannot think that her baby brother's lips are sinful. It is disgraceful. Or how much you want to kiss him again. How much you want to feel his groan reverberate against your skin until it reaches your bones. Your marrow.

You paste a smile, and though your words are honest, you keep your deeper feelings to yourself. Caged and unwelcome, especially when his eyes look away. Look back at where you know Alys had just bore witness to the very obvious declaration.

Though it was brief, it grounds you harder than any kiss Aemond Targaryen could impart against your own.

He did this for her. Like an actor on a play. There's an audience and a fellow actor. This is nothing more than a scene to him.

As it should to you.

Didn't you kiss him?

Suddenly you wanted to be anywhere but near him. You step away but also don't want him to worry— there's nothing to worry about, right? — taking his hands and giving them a squeeze. He turns, and the lust is gone replaced with a softer look. You let your smile stretch before it dips in suspicion.

Aemond is sharp when he's using his brains. When his emotions cloud him— anger, lust, All The Feelings Reserved for Alys His First Love — his brain cells abandon ship except for two. They join hands and start gyrating.

He calls your name. Your smile stretches further but it can't reach your eyes so you look away, laughing brightly. Fakely.

"You kiss good. 10/10. But I'm not eating here after that." You flag the bartender and pull out crumpled tens before he could protest. "I'm ordering takeout and watching Angela Lansbury figure out more murders."

The way he says your name again lingers, trying to tug at your strings. A plead. He holds you steady with one elbow, and you hate it. You hate it because he can sense your turmoil when you didn't want it to be shown. Because kissing him didn't mean anything, and you were supposed to be more than happy helping him.

And you are.

Right?

Bitter thoughts have a tendency to pitch, and when you start wondering, comparing, if this is how he pleads with Alys— a gentle touch, a crisp, wandering look in your face trying to decipher what his next moves should be, how he should step, what he should say — you take a step back emotionally and physically.

You can't do this to him, but he can't do this to you too.

His hand is between you before your expression makes it curl into a fist.

"Okay," he says. "Okay. I'm sorry, riña."

You don't admonish him of his shit, instead you wink. You fake it. You keep trying because if you let your hurt be blatant between the two of you (why, why would it hurt?) (because you're being used & despite previous claims, it's fucking shit to be used???) it'll then be something to address. An elephant in the room.

For now, you shove the fucking elephant in the corner.

"This way, she can think we got so hot for each other that we just had to skip dinner." You try for a smile again and you win because you feel yourself calm down. "It'll be great, you'll see."

Kissing him is a dangerous endeavour. It's good (earth-shattering, would sell your soul 20/10), but no more kissing Aemond.

(As things that are meant to be set as rules go, this too, you will break).

What does a girl gotta do to ground herself when she's thrown off axis, spinning and spinning into cold, empty space?

You get fucked.

"F-fuck!" comes out of your mouth as you throw your head back, unable to do anything but spasm in your locked position; Cregan has your arms back against your body, his hips slamming against your ass, feeling his stones, his thick cock bullying that spot inside of you that has you creaming against him, your orgasm grabbing hold of your throat as you think and colour and profanity but it all comes out a garbled mess of moan and gasp.

And you don't just get fucked— you get fucked hard. Fucked with a capital F and an O.

Cregan grunts, barks his own profanity behind you as the overstimulation gets you whimpering, chasing his own high until his hips stutter and his warmth, thick and silky, spurts in ropes and lakes inside your battered womb. (Thank fuck for IUD because you're pretty sure his swimmers are of Excellent Top Notch Quality with how vicious he cums). He presses you 'till the hilt, releasing your arms to press a tight palm against your torso to keep you there as you grow lax and warm against him, occasionally twitching.

Thick, dollops of your shared wetness drop from between you as you both catch your breaths.

(Again, thank the gods for modern medicine).

"So..." With his chest pressed against your back, legs too wobbly to stand on your own, you mimic the same pattern of his breathing. Sharp inhales and braying exhales move in one for a minute or two, both of you trying to grasp thought.

"So?"

"Wanna talk about your problems now, babygirl?" he purrs in your ear. You smack his ass and he laughs, letting the voice drop.

"Call me that again and I'm sniping Cregan Jr."

A dramatic gasp of horror escapes him. "Sweets!" He slaps your shoulder. You yelp. "Don't say that when I'm still inside you!"

"Bitch, then get out!"

He smacks a wet kiss on top of your head, laughing with your own breathless laughter. "Alright, alright. Lemme just... Shit." You both wince at the feel of him leaving your abused cunt, your leg kicking in a twitch. "I think I came too much, you okay?"

There's real concern in his dark, dark eyes, and the pitch of his tone is serious. A real question that required an answer.

"Green as Broccoli, baby." You sigh, holding the wall in front of you to keep you steady. "Fuck, if you get me pregnant, I'm actually going to snipe Cregan Jr."

He holds Cregan Jr with a wounded look. "Cregan Jr help make Cregan the Third. You can't do that to family."

You blink at each other.

"Dude," you finally say. "Either my pussy just fucked you stupid or you're roundabout implying incest, and I am going to hurl."

After a quick cleanup, a shower that's less sexy and more trying to hog the hot water because for some reason Cregan's shower only has a limited amount ("Why the fuck is your apartment like this?" "It's a cheap place! Also, I'm the only one in it! Stop distracting me and share the shower, woman, damnit!"), and once both of you are dressed, dinner in the form of a takeaway, and Scream 2 playing on his TV— you drop your problems.

That's what you like about Cregan, recently as you found out. Things you may be... a little more hesitant to tell Helaena— because you know, this concerns her baby brother that she's protective about, that she asked for your help about — and Cregan is like a stranger peering into your life.

Apart from the good sex, there's not a lot that Cregan actually knows about you from now. Neither of you linger, truly, on the deep stuff. Sure you hang out, and you enjoy spending time with him, but— everything else, knowing you in the frayed edges, he doesn't hover. You don't either. And both of you are more than happy with the arrangement. It also puts unloading all this Aemond/Alys drama on him in a positive spin, as it actually lifts off the weird heaviness on your shoulder.

He whistles, patting the face mask you put on his face. "Babe, gotta say, I think you may like the guy past face value."

You groan. "That's not a good answer."

"You didn't deny it."

"Because there's nothing to deny, there's nothing to pursue. There's nothing there period."

He arches a thick eyebrow. "Now you're overcompensating with the denial. That was three different denials."

You nibble at your lip, giving a shrug. "It's how it all set up, you know? Like. Okay, sure did I think he was pretty cute? Yeah. But I'm Helaena's best friend first and foremost. My relationship with her precedes anything else."

"Even me?"

"Yes." You snort. "If she told me to drop you, I'd throw you."

Cregan's mouth falls open. "That is so vicious." You blow him a kiss, he bumps his shoulder with yours. "Is it just Helaena that stopped you from pursuing anything with him?"

"... Mostly. He was also younger. He was in high school when I met Hel."

He snorts. "From what you told me, he enjoys his ladies a little older. But you know, I know Hel. And if you think about it, you're both two people she loves, why won't she be excited at the prospect of two people she loves falling in love? Anyway, what Hel thinks isn't the biggest question of the math problem, sweets."

"What is?"

"How does Aemond feel about you?"

How he feels about you could be explicitly hinted by the messages and calls that followed. You got busy at the bar, new hires needed to be trained, and Aemond got busy with his University obligations, so 'Everything After' came in bursts when it could.

AEMY: I'm so sorry about blindsiding you that day. We were having a great day, you were helping me process my relationship with Alys, and I ruined it. I would understand if you didn't want to do this anymore. I am so sorry, ñuha riña.

YOU: aemy..., it is literally 230am

AEMY: I am so sorry.

YOU: go to sleep. i forgive you

AEMY: You do? I don't want you to think that you have to. You're allowed to be mad at me.

YOU: you sent this at 2 in the morning and i know how much you care about your sleep. u hate fucking up ur sleeping schedule. i know its eating you alive. u know what u did wrong and i care about u enough to forgive u.

YOU: now go sleep, aemy. love u sleep well. we're ok

AEMY: Thank you. I won't do that again, without your input. Good night, sweetheart.

AEMY: 💗

YOU: did u just use my fave heart omg

AEMY: I'm grovelling. Least I can do. Good night, riña 💗

YOU: gnight aemy💗💗💗

The next morning, having slept for five hours since you got home after your shift, you trudge to the kitchen only to a pull stop at Helaena eating a cereal, smugly, while a bouquet of tulips about twenty or so, sits on the counter beside her.

"Holy shit, these are pretty." You finger a pink petal from the collection pink, orange and white tulips. "Which admirer of yours got this for you and would you say he has a hot brother?"

Hel snorts. "That's not for me, dummy. But I do have a pretty good brother who many has said is very pretty and b, an ace boyfriend. When he's not being stupid that is."

"What?" You pluck the card and felt yourself giggle rather than actually make the conscious choice of laughing giddily at an unexpected, pretty present. A smile breaking out from your face, as Helaena observes you over her bowl.

For the lady. Aemy.

"Shit. Your brother really doesn't do apologies half-assed, huh?"

"Apparently not." She places the bowl on the sink, giving you a long, smug look until you look up at her and feel your heart in your throat at the gleam in her blue eyes. "Wanna tell me something?"

"Dunno," you say airily, trying to inhale the floral fumes from farther away than necessary so it isn't so obvious you're totally fucking enamoured with them. Sure they're just flowers. But something about waking up to an unexpected bouquet of the prettiest bunch is sometimes all a girl needs to have a great day. "What do you wanna know?"

"This is a need to know basis, alright?"

"Alright." You hold the bouquet to your chest, unable to stand it any longer, pressing your nose against the fresh, sweet scent as a shield against your best friend's line of inquiry.

"Have you and my brother done the tango?"

"No! Hel, come on! I wouldn't do that to you. Also! That is not part of the plan! I told you I'm not going to fuck the sad out of your brother."

She raises an eyebrow, fighting off a grin in a weird way as she plucks out her bag and starts leaving. "You and 'Aemy' are both adults. I, as her personally also adult big sister, doesn't give a shit."

"Is that permission, are you giving me permission to fuck the sad out of your brother, Helaena Targaryen you sick shit?"

Helaena's cackle leaves much to be desired, and you're much more confused about things.

Gratefully, you have a beautiful bunch of tulips to sweetly assuage you for the time being.

"Your sister's so weird," you say in the next call you have with him. You're on grocery duty for the month, aimlessly roaming around the aisles whilst he's on the go somewhere in school.

"That's your best friend, mind you," he teases.

"I know, I chose her knowing what she's like." You sigh dramatically, picking up most of the cleaning supplies you and Hel need at the apartment. You enjoyed your weekly routines of deep-cleaning, while Helaena, though not a slob, never enjoyed it when she has her little bugs and critters in the room and you would go all military sergeant at her for the waste that some of the bugs need for nutrition.

"What did she do this time?"

"You wouldn't believe it if I told you."

He laughs lightly and you smile at the sound. "Try me, ñuha riña."

He's on a busy street, the backdrop distinct, so he had pulled his mouth close to the phone. The breathless laugh he emitted, alongside the deep vowel-drawl he spoke his usual endearment shot bolts and shivers across your body.

Stupid Helaena and stupid promissory-approved sad fuckings.

"She said, we're both adults."

"I am aware. You're a very well established adult apart from your manic obsessions with oil diffusers and buying my dog so many treats."

"Shut up, they're not for you, they're for my baby Vhagar. And one, you're just jealous you can't pull out a drawer in your house and offer, 'Oh, kind guest sir, what scent you wanna vibe with today?'"

Another laughter bubbles out of him and you're full on grinning by the aisle with rolls of massive tissues around you. You pick a pack and place it on your cart before continuing.

"Anyway, yeah so she said we're both adults, and we're more than okay doing the adult tango." You snort. "Can you believe— Aemond? Hello? Are you okay?" There's a sound of things falling on concrete, an oof and a swear. "If you got hit by a car just as I'm on the phone with you and I'm the last person on your call history when you die and your mother finds out, I am actually going to debone you."

He's laughing against the phone, a pained sound that is honest and full. "Sorry, sorry, I just tripped a-and my laptop fell—"

"—Dude, oh my god?? Wait, why am I concerned, you can probably buy one right at this moment."

"You—" he butts between laughter. "—you're not making it easy to stand up."

You snort. "Well, damn, Aemy, standup. You can worship me someplace softer than concrete." You blink. The silence stretches as you turn redder. "You know what I mean."

". . .I do," he says softly. "I'm upright now. And I already do, you know."

"What?"

"Worship the ground you walk on."

"Oh, well. Helaena's only kidding, I'm sure, with the permission thing," you say lamely.

He hums. "Sure. But those are two separate things."

The rest of the days follow something like that. Both of you get swallowed up by obligations and time presses on like a soldier, but you make time when it presents itself; and it's easy. Almost like he had always been part of your life like this, engaged in the niches, as if he had always just... existed like this.

The orbit is slow but it is patient. It beams and lazily moves.

YOU: EMERGENCY

He calls, voice panicked. "What? What happened? Are you okay?"

"Whoa, calm down, cowboy, it's not an emergency like that," you say, phone wedged between your ear and shoulder, a book open between your hands. "Also seems really weird to text you 'Emergency' if I need something urgently. I mean 111 is easy enough to dial."

He sighs, languid and long suffering. You snort. "I would still like to know if you need me in anyway. Even if you don't."

The sincerity burns and lodges itself deep in your throat. You try for a joke. "Okay, boyfie. Noted. I just wanted to ask about a High Valyrian word. Well two words but I already know the other. I'm at the bookstore trying to find good romance books and I came across this endearment and there's no glossary."

"Oh?" A piqued interest is so obvious in his voice that it makes you laugh. "What?"

"Nothing. Nerd. Alright, it's this— ñuha zaldrīzes. I know ñuha means my because it's my favourite nickname given by my favourite person."

A cocky muse goes out of his mouth unfiltered, "You're favourite person, hm?"

"I came for answers, you sad sack of simp, not judgement. You know what, scratch that, I'm calling Aegon." You're only joking, not even going to remove the phone lodged in your neck, but he panics easily.

"Don't call Aegon. I'm smarter than him."

"Aww, Aemy, are you scared of your big, bad brother?"

He snorts. "Iksan daor zūgagon hen bona doru-borto nuspes. I am not scared of that stupid cow."

Now, you've heard Aemond speak in High Valyrian in increments— his endearment for you the one you know the most — but not in full sentences. But to hear his harsh 'r's, the smooth 'z's and 's' does something to you. You have to remind yourself that you're not just in public, your mouth is also too fucking close to the receiver.

You manage to bat the moan with a barely trembled win.

You don't, however, manage to stop the little squeak in your voice. That surprise little sound that Aemond catches immediately.

He hums, a delightedly dark roll of his throat (how the fuck does someone make that attractive?). There's a certain purr that tilts his voice and whatever the fuck he's saying next, and you barely grasp at thought, much less the intelligence required to make sense of foreign words to you, when he says—

"Gaomagon ao hae skori nyke ȳdragon naejot ao isse Valyrio Eglie, dārilaros? Do you like when I speak to you in High Valyrian, princess?"

You don't know what you say next.

You know they're not words.

If one could truly make sense of what sound you made, it could be called a 'strangled whine totally inappropriate to make in a bookstore and thank god you're the only one in the aisle because holy fuck. Holy fuck'.

And you've never heard Aemond make a laugh so meanly as he does in reply to your strangled— choked— whine, the absolute prat.

"Oh, you absolute whore," you choke out, clearing your throat. "You can't do that, that's illegal. I don't even know what you said!"

"Do you want me to translate?" he teases, and his tone is light again, but there's that tinged. A reminder. A hook. If you want to play more. If it could lead to new things.

You parry instead. "I bet you say that to all the ladies."

"Lady," he reminds. "And Alys... never really responded much. She just asked me to translate."

"Educational purposes, huh?"

He hums in agreement before his voice pitches that way again. A darkened edge to the usual teasing. "But I've always wanted to try it in the bedroom."

If lightning felt like this— a shock shot on the back of your neck, then a bloom of warmth that reaches the tips of your fingers, your hair — then someone call 111 because you just became a statistic.

"Sure," you manage to squeak, trying to shake your head as you pile your arms with books that have Valyrian lords, princes— and ooh, dragonlords, how fantasy — and hoping the sexy scenes have them speaking in the language. "You'll definitely get a woman wanting, Aemy."

He laughs. "Is that jealousy, ñuha riña?"

"No." It really isn't at first, when you said the comment, you just threw it out there. But now the scene is in your head— Aemond whispering filthy things in the language of his ancestors, those hard consonants, that smooth, silky drawl, while he pounds into them — gets you brisk, a flare of anger, and you kinda wanna die because who are you to feel jealous? But the 'No' is brusque, a quick, hard sound, that Aemond catches it like fodder and chuckles.

Fuck, why does he have to laugh so nicely? Why does the mean edge so fucking sexy?

Is this phone sex? This isn't phone sex, you think, bleary and out of your mind, in a hot, hot space and you can't stop yourself. You can end the call and shut it all out, come back when you're a little more levelheaded, but you can't.

"Nyke kivio naejot mērī ȳdragon naejot ao hae bisa, dārilaros, I promise to only speak to you like this, princess." he says against your silence.

"There's that word again. The last one. What is it?"

"Dragon."

You frown. "Dragon?"

"The word you asked about the first time, you've forgotten about it and I never technically answered."

"And you're never telling me this one? You called me a dumbass, didn't you?"

"I most certainly did not. I'll tell you when I meet you soon, I have to go. Geros ilas, dārilaros. Goodbye, princess," he purrs the last part extra saucily just for your poor, poor ears to redden. For your heart to stutter. "Pendagon yno hae nyke va moriot hen ao. Think of me as I always of you."

"You can't do that, Aemy," you say, breathless.

"Do you hate it?"

You close your eyes. "No."

He repeats the word you ask about, one last time before the phone ends.

You still don't know what it means, and that night with your new books, your hand between your thighs and sweat on your skin, you finally find out.

Princess.

Apart from that day, the next few go on as usual. You both are still too busy to see each other, but you keep up with the contact. It's nice. Comfortable even when you're not in that weird, electric moments that spasms the tension. Neither of you really, truly push the boundaries, but you're always tethering at the edges.

A tug, a push and pull, but no one truly shoves.

It's exhausting but neither of you stop

In between, there are odd, utterly smug looks from Helaena that you push away. You see Cregan less, often times it is him seeking you out. Sometimes you go, sometimes you don't. Sometimes, there are pleasures only your imagination could give but want for more. To be actually realised. But you've never done roleplaying with Cregan, and it feels wrong to be intimate with somebody when another person's face and body fills your head, whispering words only he could say that would have you shuddering into an orgasm to replicate with your own fingers.

The world moves. It breathes, and you exhale with it.

Until three days before the weekend and you receive a text.

AEMY: Family lunch on Sunday. Would you like to go as my date?

YOU: im hel's date already

He calls.

"Helaena is still at work and mom just sent the message at the family group chat two minutes ago. She hasn't even viewed the message. How are you already her date?"

You laugh, topping off your lipstick smudge with a pinky on the edge. "Well hello to you too, what a fine evening we're having."

"Good evening, you can't be Helaena's date. I asked you first. I am asking you first."

"One, you're not actually asking me, at least, not again, and two, it's a best friend thing. A prerequisite thing."

"Well. I'm asking beyond the prerequisite. Will you please go to Sunday dinner with my family with me?"

"Okay." You laugh together at how fast you agree. "Wouldn't it be weird?"

"We're fake dating, love, it's all part of the plan, right? I've brought Alys to family dinners before, this is just one of those."

And it jolts you when you know it shouldn't. He says it playfully, all part of the fun. You don't know why you're so disappointed, well you do, but it isn't like you had any, actual right to be.

And love. You know Aemond calls Alys that when they dated.

And it irks you, you don't know why, and suddenly, you just don't want to be in this call. You close off your lipstick, pursing your lips. He calls your name when you don't reply too fast.

"You still there?"

"Yeah, just... are you sure we should be telling your family we're dating?"

"Why not? You already come for every Sunday dinner, you're just coming with me instead of Hel," he says. "It will be just like any other Sunday."

Something about that pisses you off and saddens you at the same time.

"Sure," you say brightly, fakely. "Gotta go though, I'm meeting up with someone, text me the details, okay?"

"Meeting up?"

You can't help it, the astonishment in his tongue irks. "I have more friends than you and Hel, Aemy, I'm not a recluse."

"I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry."

You control your exhale. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, that was mean. Yeah. Cregan Stark, I think I told you about him from before?"

"You're still meeting him?"

"You know about that?"

"Hel said something. I didn't know you were still meeting him."

"Well... I'm not a virgin, Aemy, and it's not like we're real, remember?"

"Right." His agreement is sharp. Halting. "Have fun then."

Before you reply, the call ends.

"Well. Okay. Dick." You shrug. Aemond has a temper, that's nothing new. But it's not like you're doing something wrong, and you're still at that weird, heated headspace that put your thoughts in a whirlwind of a turmoil, so you can't try and fix this with him right now.

Plus, Cregan was offering a good dick without complications. Who are you to say no?

CREGAN: ill pick u up babygirl dw💜😍😘

TAGGED: @snowprincesa1 @gemini-mama @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr @astroswift @queenofshinigamis @helaenaluvr @kaetastic @jxdegodfrey @laniii-on-your-left @watercolorskyy @microwaveallthedemons @kazuyatokue @herfantasyworldd @averyyreads @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bellstwd @jiminie-08 @ttkttt @nockerin

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kaetastic · 8 months

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The relationship between a girl and the random shit on her bedside table

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kaetastic · 8 months

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PLAY ALONG

pairing: Sodo Ghoul x Ghoulette!F!Reader

summary: After debutting not so long ago, the fans seem to adore the new addition to their beloved band. However, after noticing how their fans react to their interactions- Sodo and Y/N test the waters to make their fans go feral.

word count: 1.2k+

warning: tension TENSION SEXUAL TENSION!!!

note: i've noticed the lack of reader being a part of the band so you know what TAKE THIS! also i love you phantom but this position is MINE!! (for this story lol) p.s i took 2 hours to write this because i was so excited and was on a GRINDD

"Dust." Papa's deep voice shook the venue, the vibrations flowing like waves from the source of the sounds into the thrilled crowd. With a microphone in his hand, the man who had the blinding sequined blue jacket pranced across the stage. The spotlight followed every movement he made, shining upon him as if he were a revealed prophecy.

Screams erupted from the crowd as they held their phones high up from the crowd- ready to capture moments from their favourite ghouls and ghoulettes. However, this night had been different since the few previous shows had sparked a new trend. Pupils and phone lenses were glued onto the lead guitarist who had been ripping his infamous white guitar while others stayed on the ghoulette who strung her black one.

There was excitement in the air that was missing from the tours before. It wasn't grand but it definitely felt significant. And oh, was that excitement going to explode. Bodies were jumping as Papa thrust his hips, his voice growling out, "In God you trust."

Swiss moved further into the stage and those closest to him let out high-pitched yells. Even though both parties knew there was no point in trying to make contact due to the large gap between them, there was always an attempt because the veins on the man's arm were irresistible.

"Your cavalier of crapulence, to this feast of rapacity."

If it wasn't loud before, now it was boisterous. Sodo's fingers were moving on their own- a result of countless practices, while his body shuffled over to the ghoulette.

Y/N or Raven (as she was known) had her lips pressed together as her mind was solely focused on giving a satisfying performance. Papa's voice bounced through her earpiece and her body obeyed the music and played the right chords. Despite the sudden incline of screams, she kept her gaze on the crowd with a smile. Playing an instrument was one thing, but serving a good performance for the crowd was another. Knowing that fact, she shouldn't have been surprised when she felt another body pressing her back.

Her mind needed a second to process who it was but her body was on its own journey. Not even a stagger in her performance. Throwing her head over her shoulders, she was met by the same mask encapsulating her head. The fans noticed how close their bodies were and more screams erupted from the front to the back of the venue.

"In God you trust."

With his other arm free, he placed his hand on her waist. It descended, following the curve of her body before he yanked her back to close the gap between them. Masterminds- that's what they were because everyone had been enamoured by the two. Phones from all the way back were faced in their directions, possibly recording the hundredth clip of that night.

After the recent shows, Y/N and Sodo had picked up how the crowd had loved when they were close to one another. So in a genius fashion, they both decided to interact more on stage.

Even though the light fell onto the back of their heads, shadowing the front of their masks, few realized the way Y/N had opened her mouth in shock at Sodo's action. They scrambled to open whatever social media they favoured, not bothered by the fact that their phone was holding onto the last bits of battery. Later on, the duo would find the clip to pull in more interested fans with their electrifying chemistry.

Leaning her head back to rest on his shoulder, Y/N realized something. Noises came from every angle. The sounds that were trapped by the large room bounced off the walls, wrapping around the people under its roof. Despite all this, she could clearly hear his heavy breathing. The man wasn't running around the stage, so why was he?

Then a smirk played on her lips. When they discussed their little plan, Y/N knew there would be rumours about the two but in any good marketing, denying those rumours would not be beneficial at all. She also knew that there would be other... feelings involved. Feelings that would be more apparent on him than on her.

Angling her lips towards his, she leaned in but not exactly closing in. Screeches blew up and a smirk played on her lips at her success. She breathed out onto his lips, "You hard?" Oh, the things she would do just to see his eyes beneath those opaque goggles. Sodo felt his body still behind hers. He was incredibly thankful that most of his face had been covered apart from his lips because his face gave away everything. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips at her question. So many things to be thankful for tonight. Especially to the guitar that covered the most telling parts.

Cirrus' part was up and Y/N pressed a hand on Sodo's chest to push him away. Making her way to the other side of the stage, she stood close to the edge, her feet perched on the blasting speakers. Unbeknownst to her, the same figure that was behind her had been trailing after her like a lost yet love-sickened puppy seeking attention. She should have known when phones were angled behind her.

With his hand free again, Sodo pushed his guitar to rest beside him, his front now free from the protection of the instrument. A small gulp swam down her throat once she felt something prodding her back. Lord. Placing his hand on the bottom of her neck, he ground his teeth as he brought it up to fully grasp it.

Another thing to be thankful for- no one had heard the silent moan that left her lips. Just for him.

"Very." Sodo gave a late reply.

"And divine you feel my thrust."

The ghoulette smirked at the coincidence of the lyrics for that moment.

"In God you trust."

Papa's thrusting towards the crowd caused strings of screams, and bubbles of excitement were waiting to burst out. The crowd was ready for the confetti. On the other hand, Sodo fans had their phones angled to capture his routine for Mummy Dust. This time... everyone knew that something would be different.

As the drumming got louder, Sodo ran his left down from Y/N's mouth to her neck- stopping above the curves of her chest. Just for a moment, a small part of her cursed him out for not going further down. Wrapping his fingers as if he was jacking off the air, Sodo had his head thrown back. He wished he was doing the exact same thing to himself right now.

The ghoulette turned her body to face him. His eyes changed course to watch as her hands slowly trailed down his chest. The fans were exhilarated at the sight, screaming at the sight of the pair they liked so much. Sodo felt his heart beat at its own hastened pace while the rest of his body was vibrated by the stage. His heart skipped one single beat. Y/N got on her knees with her eyes on his black lenses. She swore he had gulped when confetti was shot out onto the crowd.

This was definitely going to be awkward to talk about later.

#sodo ghoul x reader #ghost band x reader #ghost band oneshot #nameless ghouls x reader #ghost band fanfic #sodo ghoul oneshot #sodo oneshot #sodo ghoul fanfic

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kaetastic · 8 months

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the way im gonna reread this to feel something later 😭😭😭

Curiosity Killed The Cat

prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom: Marvel

word count: 5.1k+

note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.

warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.

Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.

You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.

Rooted.

But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.

You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.

This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.

You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?

Curiosity, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...

"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."

"And the jalapeños?"

"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."

"Cream cheese?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."

Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."

"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"

"Lemme pick you up."

"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."

He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"

"Let's do a white tonight, please."

"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "

"Hang on," you pleaded.

"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"

"We haven't been to Paris in months."

You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."

Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"

"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"

"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."

"I'll bring the camera."

"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"

"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.

"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"

"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"

There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "

"It's 15," he growled.

"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."

"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "

"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."

"Don't hurt her - "

"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."

The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.

He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).

For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.

"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."

You sniffled, unable to respond.

He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"

You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."

The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."

"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."

"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."

You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.

At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.

"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.

"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"

You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.

Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.

And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.

You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.

Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.

Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.

So now... To hear this... You were devastated.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.

You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.

"She's different, man."

"How so?" Sam wondered.

"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "

"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."

"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.

"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."

"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."

"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"

Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"

"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."

"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."

"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.

"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."

"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."

"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"

There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.

So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."

"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"

You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"

"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."

"Peach - "

"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"

"Sure."

Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"

You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.

Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.

Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?

You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"

"Out with Nat," you eased.

He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"

"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."

His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."

"I know."

"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.

And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.

When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."

The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.

You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.

Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.

Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.

Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.

After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.

"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.

"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.

"What?"

"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"

"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."

"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"

"About...?"

"Me."

"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."

Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.

"Huh?" Nat wondered.

"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.

"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."

Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"

"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"

"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."

"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.

"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."

"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."

"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."

"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."

"They can take it."

"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"

"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.

"Bucky," she growled.

He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."

"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."

"Why lie, then?"

"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."

"No shit."

"Well, did you get into a fight?"

"No."

"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."

"You had to do something."

"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."

Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"

Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."

"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."

"I didn't mean - "

"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."

Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"

"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"

Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.

The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.

Clingy...

You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...

His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.

When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"

You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.

He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."

"I'm here."

"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong."

"What the fuck does that - "

"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."

You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "

"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."

"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."

You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "

"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."

You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."

"It's not."

"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."

He nodded, "What else can I do?"

"Nothing - "

"Peach."

You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.

"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"

"All right... Sure, okay..."

"And face masks."

He sighed, "Okay."

"And mani-pedis."

"Baby."

"You said you were making it up to me, right?"

He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."

"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."

"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."

"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."

"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."

You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.

Felt okay.

Appeared okay.

And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

#bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes x reader

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kaetastic · 8 months

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Cregan “Mr. Steal Aemond’s Girl” Stark in 90% of the fics on this site. I love that we’ve collectively decided that Aemond deserves to lose to Cregan. It’s beautiful.

@valeskafics @daenerysapologist @misguidedasgardian @missusnora

#fuck it im gonna write a cregan stark oneshot

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kaetastic · 8 months

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“you’re not the villain in my story.” “i am. but i’ll be the villain for you. not to you.”

— gleam, the plated prisoner series

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kaetastic · 8 months

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Nothing sexier then a fictional man suddenly noticing an injury on their love interest and going unnaturally still, their eyes darkening, their voice hardening with deathly quiet as they say "who did this to you?"

#ive been so into reading lately #on my third book for the plated prisoner series #its so fricking good

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kaetastic · 8 months

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i bet you kept seeing my notifications HAHAHAHA i had to RESTRAIN MYSELF from reading and bingeing it in one go 😭 ITS SO SO GOOD LIKE I DONT EVEN KNOW WHERE TK BEGINNN THE DRAMA??? THE DRAMA!!! i yearn for cregan but aemond 😭 you stupid boy UGH im so so so invested, could i please be tagged in this masterpiece of a series 😭😭🫶

Chapter 20 …have violent ends

Chapter 20 of Moonlight

A/N- We’re close to reaching the end!!

Warning- Swearing, ANGST, fluff, violence, blood, talks of death, SPOILERS for future events of HOTD!!!!

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- After 1x09, events based off of Fire and Blood

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*14 DAYS BEFORE BATTLE*

It’s snowing outside, it’s been so long since you’ve seen snow. Yet you can’t say watching the delicate little flakes flutter down brings you any sort of joy. Not like before. Not when battle looms so close, and Aemond’s death could come with it.

You should maybe be relieved if Aemond dies, you like to think that you’ve accepted his death, that you’ve come to terms with it even if it hasn’t happened, even if it’s not guaranteed. But the truth is that you feel something die a little inside at the mere thought. Sure it’s true, you’ve come to terms with the fact that he won’t survive this war, not with the way he tries to be so independent. But…Aemond Targaryen is still your husband, he may not be your first love, you may not have fallen in love with him as deeply as you did with Cregan, but you still love Aemond with your entire soul. So knowing his doom might be around the corner makes the snow look dull and makes it feel bitterly cold.

“So your mother has finally named you heir?” Aemond interjects as he walks out of the hut.

You caress Astraea’s nose as she keeps her head rested near you, since she can’t lay her head on your lap anymore.

“It’s about time she saw the right choice.”

He’s talking to you like he hasn’t accepted dying rather than living for you, for his kids. For his family at least.

“Well,” you mumble. “I can’t say she had much of a choice.” You sigh and lay your head on your dragon's snout.

“Perhaps,” Aemond says and closes the door behind him so Alys—well she can probably hear, this hut is tiny and offers barely any privacy. So he just closes the door so she won’t see. “But it should have been you from the beginning.”

You hum, and from the corner of your eyes catch him walking down the steps to sit below you. Still with no sense of remorse to your feelings.

“People wouldn’t have accepted me, I’m a woman. Isn’t that why you’re fighting my mother?” You so boldly ask. “You would have had to kill me too if I was named her heir from the beginning. No?”

Aemond slowly looks back at you and stares at you with a narrowed glare before he chuckles and shakes his head. He doesn’t proceed to actually answer you, nor does he intend to, he leans back and rests his head on your leg.

You albeit use your foot and push him away. Aemond exhales deeply and stays with his back turned to you. “I won’t change my mind about what I have to do,” he says. “I won’t argue with you about anything either.”

You lift your head off Astraea’s snout to scoff with discontent. “No, of course you won’t. You never want to fight.”

“And you always do, but I think it’s foolish to fight over something that won’t happen,” he counters with no rise in emotion.

Why even bother arguing to a fucking wall?

Which is why you get up and walk away in hopes you can calm down. However, Aemond follows after you and quickly catches up and grabs your hand to turn you around to face him.

“You don’t want to argue,” you sneer and point your finger on his chest. “I won’t argue.” You try to pull your arm away, but he tightens his grip and pulls you towards him.

“Let me go!” You exclaim and try to shove him, but he grabs your wrists and yanks you towards him.

“Why are you so convinced I’m going to die?” Aemond queries as his gaze burns in yours. “Do you not believe me? In my abilites as a warrior?”

You swallow thickly and hold back the tears that threaten to spill. “I don’t know if you are going to die Aemond,” You snap back. “I truly don’t know. Alys says something, and I’m trying my hardest to try and believe her, but why should I blindly put my faith on a maybe? You promised now and forever, Aemond, and you want to dive into a battle with a madman.”

Aemond sighs. “I will give you forever,” he tries to assure you. “But I can’t run. I won’t run from this, nor will I lose. Believe in me, that’s all I ask. Not in your bastard witch, in me.” He let’s go of your arms to cup your cheeks instead. “I will win. And after I do we will decide what to do.”

“I’m going home,” you whisper shakily. “I won’t stay with you. I need to help my mother. I need to help my brother Addam.”

Aemonds eyebrows knit together. “Who?” He asks.

“It doesn't matter,” you brush him off. “But I can’t stay if you do win.”

Aemond stays quiet for a moment, he drops his gaze and thinks. But only for a moment because he then looks at you again and sighs. “We’ll discuss it after, all right?”

Discuss what? You won’t change your mind.

But well you don’t want to argue about this because this will truly go nowhere.

“For now just swear you’ll believe in me and drop this foolish plea,” he continues.

Tears break out of your eyes and begin to roll down your cheeks. “Aemond,” you whisper. “I don’t want to burn your body. I don’t want to see you die.”

Aemond lifts his hands to hold the sides of your head and pull you closer to him. “You won’t,” he insists confidently. “I will win. Believe in me.”

You look into his blue eye and sniffle. You’re still very much doubtful of this battle, even after all that’s been said, but you agree, you assure him for his sake and your own. “All right,” you whisper shakily. “I’ll believe in you. But you better win. Please.”

The corner of his lips tug to a cocky smile and he then presses his forehead against yours. “I will. I will win.”

——

*THE NIGHT BEFORE BATTLE*

Sleep didn’t come at all tonight, all you could do was keep your eyes closed and hope that you would drift to some light sleep. You couldn’t help your mind from drifting to what if’s and the worst case scenario as if you knew the truth of what was to come from the long awaited battle.

Aemond somehow managed to sleep, you could hear him snoring occasionally. As to how? You don’t know, but he did. It’s as you waited for him, when your mind drifted from the worst that you also wondered about this little hut, as much as you didn’t find this accommodation suitable, you do enjoy the silence. Knowing that some servant won’t barge in at random times of the day is nice. You do miss your children though, and your cat. But those thoughts were short and soon invaded by the bad.

When you did think you’d find at least a moment of some rest, then suddenly Aemond begins to caress your cheek with his knuckle. He probably thinks you’re alseep.

You would have let him keep thinking it, but you can’t help yourself. In case this is your last night, you reach over and grab his hand to keep it pressed against your cheek.

“Hm.” He hums.

You begin to smile and shift around to open your eyes and look at him over you.

“Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?” You ask sassily. “To prepare for your battle.”

Aemond rolls his eye, and ignores your comment. “Well if you’re awake then come with me.” He sits up, and you only do so when he’s already on the edge of the bed. “Dress.” He commands.

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumble and drag yourself to the edge. Rather than sliding off you peer back and watch his back muscles as he moves his body to dress. It’s still quite dark outside, and inside only a few candles are left lit, but you can still see how smoothly his muscles move. You can’t help but crawl over and throw yourself over him.

“Perhaps we could enjoy some more time in bed. The sun isn’t even out yet.”

Aemond takes your hand and presses a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “I would take up on your offer, but my plan won’t work unless we leave now.”

You groan and pull back to return to your side and change into your gown. Once you are dressed Aemond takes your hand and quietly takes you out of the house, making sure not make noise so as to not wake up the other person staying with you.

The moment you step outside you shiver and press yourself against him to try and get warmer. You don’t question where you go, you just follow him outside past the hut until you reach Vhagar’s side.

“Climb up,” he instructs.

You glance at the rope and then at him. It’s always such a pain in the ass climbing Vhagar. Yet you can’t complain, without the saddle on Astraea, now you literally have to climb her to get on top. It’s by some divine miracle that you haven’t fallen to your death yet.

Regardless, once you’re on Vhagar’s saddle you watch Aemond follow suit. Astraea notices you’re out and walks towards Vhagar, probably wondering why you’re on Vhagar and not on her.

“It’s okay girl, we'll be back…right?” You ask Aemond.

Aemond peers back as hits on the saddle and nods. “Of course. Now hold on.”

You smile softly and don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his waist. Vhagar soon ascends to the sky with thunder-like flaps and before you know it you're flying under the twinkling stars. Nothing was said, nothing could be said, you just enjoyed each other's presence, the peace you brought one another.

So this was his plan then, huh? Try and win you over by a flight under the stars, try and make you forget what he wants to do today?

It won’t work, but this does clear your mind now, reaching for the stars as if you could touch one reminds you of simpler times, good times. Flying with your arms around him, with your chest pressed against his back does flicker some sense of hope that you’ll be able to do this together again.

For now all you can think about is how much his love does consume you, how he welcomed you back to his heart with basically open arms after he heard that you hurt his brother. It may be some blind following, nostalgia because you’ve known each other for so long, but he loves you unconditionally, or at least because he doesn’t know of your indiscretion. Your selfish sin.

Perhaps he may never know, you’ll be okay with that. It’s something you’ll live with regardless of the outcome of today's battle. And perhaps that’s one of the few things you’re okay with in life.

You’ve always wanted to be sure of your life, after all you’re a princess with money others only dream of. You’re privileged in every aspect, but as of late there’s many things that you’re not okay with in life. You’re full of regret which eats away at your sanity. Coming here is probably one of them.

But you must think positively. Think positively…

Yet how can the fuck can you? Once you got home you ate a quick breakfast, and then he began to dress in his glimmering armor. You helped him strap the armor on very slowly and delicately, with each single movement bringing you close to tears.

“After this battle,” Aemond interjects. “I thought I might perhaps join my little brother, Daeron in Tumbleton.”

You scoff. “Ah, so now you want to listen to your dead mentors advice?”

Aemond hums in annoyance to your comment. Yet you don’t pay that any mind.

“I thought you might join me,” he continues and peers back at you.

You stop what you’re doing and tilt your head to the side and offer him a tiny smile before you answer without hesitation. “No. I need to help Addam and my grandfather. Don’t worry, if you make it out we’ll see each other again on opposite ends of this war.”

Aemond stays quiet on that matter and faces ahead once more, letting you continue to strap his armor on.

“Who’s Addam?” He asks through gritted teeth.

He’s jealous.

You smirk. “Addam Velaryon, bastard son of my father.” Or so they say anyway.

“Right,” he breathes out. “The bastard sons.”

“Yes…we’ve been here for fourteen days and you ask me about him now?” You probe teasingly.

“Well,” Aemond says with a hint of smugness. “We have been busy….I’ve missed you.”

You falter and sigh. “Me too. But need I remind you, you locked me in that tower. So.”

Aemond scoffs. “For your own safety, and it’s not like it worked, I got back and you were gone. All there was left was bodies and ash.”

“I wasn’t going to stay and wait like some stored treasure,” you remark. “I saw my chance and left. You knew I wasn’t going to support what you did. I don’t. If you had listened to me I would’ve stayed.”

Aemond stays quiet for a moment before he looks back. “I won’t regret what I did. But I do regret not strapping you to the back of my dragon.”

You huff and roll your eyes before you turn him so you can continue. “I would’ve fought.”

Aemond sighs. “I know.”

You smile softly and finish with his armor but find the excuse to braid his hair so he can stay with you longer. You make sure to take your time too by slowly brushing his hair, and running your fingers through his long strands of blond-silver hair.

“We never got to go to our vacation home,” you mention softly. “We should plan something about that. The girls love to go on dragonback.”

“Do they?” Aemond asks.

You grin and nod. “Especially Daenerys. She and her dragon are already bonding so much.”

“Dragon?” Aemond turns again this time with his gaze narrowed in confusion.

That’s right…you haven’t told him yet. Everything’s been so turned upside down you haven’t had time.

“Yes,” you let him know. “It hatched a few months back. It’s the cutest little thing.” You smile sweetly. “She loves him.”

Aemonds lips pull to a soft smile. “That’s good. What about Daenys?”

You sigh. “Her’s hasn’t hatched, but we’ve been putting it in her cradle. We hope it’ll hatch soon enough.”

Aemond shifts around, letting you continue braiding his hair. “It will,” he assures you and himself. “I’m sure of it.”

You hum in agreement and hesitate to tuck the last strands in the braid. Perhaps if you don’t he’ll stay here. With you.

Maybe.

Maybe…

“Are you finshed yet?”

You tuck the last strand in and finally tie the leather band around it so his braid won’t fall. “Yes,” you answer softly and step back. “I’m finished.”

Aemond stands up and grabs his helm off the counter before turning to face you. He notices how watery your eyes are and cups your cheek; the one with the cut he made. “You need not worry,” he says as he leans in. “I swore now and forever didn’t I?”

You nod and let him kiss you passionately. You melt into the kiss. You grab his jaw and deepen the sweet gesture. You don’t want to let go, but he pulls back and presses one last kiss on your forehead. “Let’s go,” he says. “You are ready yes?”

“Yes,” you answer stiffly.

Aemond holds your gaze for a moment longer and then walks past you to walk out the door. You linger there in the spot for a moment, you stand there in the silence, trying to take everything in until Alys voice cuts in.

“These bags?” She asks.

You blink, and look at her already grabbing what few things you brought with you for just in case. “Yes.” You deadpan and turn around completely to face her with a serious expression.

“Are you sure about what you saw?” You ask her in a soft voice.

Alys lifts her chin and nods stiffly. “I am,” she says.

You let out a deep breath and nod back stiffly before you walk out after Aemond.

This time you don’t climb on the same dragon, you mount Astraea with Alys riding behind you. You ascend to the sky with a sad frown and hope and pray that time moves slow so you wouldn’t arrive at Harrenhal quickly

But, alas the haunted castle isn’t far from where you were. First Vhagar casts a shadow almost black as night over the castle and the lands around it, the birds once resting inside the Godswood, fly away out of fear to the beast above. Aemond and Vhagar circle the castle twice before Vhagar finally descends to the ground.

Since Vhagar is so big you couldn't catch sight of Caraxes, you don’t know if he and his rider are here like Alys said, and the truth is you're almost scared l to know. Not scared because it proves Alys correct, but you’re scared to face Daemon now as you’re at Aemond’s side. You never liked Daemon before, you hated him, but after you returned from Harrenhal, and he was at the Red Keep, the hate disappeared. You can’t say complete appreciation grew, but you do respect him. So what will he say when he sees you too?

You almost don’t want to know; or let him see you, but you need to be at Aemond’s side for this battle. So you slowly descend from the clouds, and right away once the sight of the castle and ground below is clear, you see Caraxes red body below with his face pointed at Vhagar. Astraea circles the towers once before she finally lands next to Vhagar.

And that’s when you see him, the great Prince Daemon Targaryen. He’s alone, without the company of Nettles, who had joined him in search of Aemond. Did she run away like Addam too?

Regardless, when you climb off your dragon you help Alys off first before you walk around Astraea to meet Aemond ahead of your dragons. And you don’t fail to notice Daemon already walking towards the both of you with his own armor, unlike Aemond though, Daemon doesn’t carry a helm.

“Uncle, I hear you’ve been seeking us,” Aemond breaks the silence and steps past you.

“Only you,” Daemon replies and then shifts his gaze to you. “Princess what a surprise. What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you’re back with him.”

You lift your chin and sigh. “I’ve only come to watch this battle,” you answer. “That’s all,” you pause and just stare at him.

There’s still so much you want to tell him; about your mother and her growing paranoia, you want to ask if the rumors about him and Nettles having some affair is true, you want to ask what happened to her. Most importantly you want to tell him to be careful too.

Your younger self would have laughed knowing that you worry for him, but you can’t help it. Your mother needs him, and he…he’s not such a bad person.

Yet you don’t say anything at all, you just step back and look at Aemond.

“Who told you where to find me?” Daemon then asks Aemond, while he stops walking only a few feet away from Aemond.

“My y/n,” he says smugly. “The handmaiden at her side sees much and more. You were a fool to come alone.”

You peer back at Alys, and see her holding her small but swollen belly without a sense of shame or discomfort. She holds her head high and smirks at Daemon.

“Were I not alone, you would not have come,” Daemon rebuttals, making Aemond scoff.

“Yet you are, and here I am,” Aemond says. “You have lived too long uncle.”

“On that much we agree,” Daemon counters and glares at Aemond, before he looks at you while Caraxes begins to approach his rider.

You want to say something, wish him some luck, but you just offer him an acknowledging nod.

Caraxes stops as his head approaches Daemon’s side, and he doesn’t fret to lower his neck. Before Daemon can turn to climb his mighty dragon though, he offers you a stiff nod first and then proceeds to climb on stiffly.

Aemond on the other hand walks to you and stops before you. You slowly meet his gaze and tears quickly fill your eyes. He gently cups your cheeks and pulls you to him.

“Please,” you beg one more time, hoping this time your shaky plea will strike his heart and change his decision. “Aemond, please. We can still run away. Like I told you about when we were kids. Please don’t do this.”

Aemond’s lips tug to a smile, and he leans in closer to you, to the point your lips brush against each other. “My love, you need not fear, nor cry, I can and I will win. You said it. I will win and bring a change to this war. Perhaps I will be the one who becomes King, and if it happens you will be my Queen.”

He’s still holding onto this foolish desire? He doesn’t even care that you were named your mothers heir either, he doesn’t care that Alys said he would help you ascend the throne. Then again why would you expect he would? He always talked about how your birthright was stolen from you, but he only said that because he knew your brothers were bastards, he couldn’t fathom kneeling to one, so he just filled your ears with lies because he couldn’t speak truth then.

Yet you still cling onto him like a lovesick fool.

“It can only happen if you live,” you retort, and hold his face to caress his cheek. “Live for me. Please, Aemond.”

Aemond smirks and nods before he gives you one last kiss. A short but deep one you don’t want to pull away from, but you have to.

“I love you,” you tell him softly agasint his lips.

Aemond caresses your bottom lip and holds your gaze as he mumbles. “And I love you. Now and forever.”

You share one last lingering look before he breaks away from you and walks over to vault lightly onto Vhagar, making sure to secure every strap he has on his saddle before mutters something that makes Vhagar begin to move ahead.

The dragon's footsteps shake the ground, the flapping of their wings creates strong wind. You stay where you are and watch as Caraxes hisses at Vhagar once he’s in the air, before he breathes out fire.

Vhagar answers with a mighty roar as she finally takes flight. Now that they’re both above you you don’t waste anymore time, you rush towards the castle, you don’t even watch if Alys follows, your mind is only focused on the battle, that’s all you can worry about. So you climb to the highest tower in Harrenhal, Kingspyre Tower.

Once you make it up you have no time to catch your breath, the first attack happens quickly like thunder, by none other than the ferocious Caraxes; he dives down on Vhagar with a high pitched shriek and slams down on the old green dragon.

Vhagar answers with a grumbling roar and begins to try and grapple at Caraxes.

The red dragon roars in return and tries to tear into the old dragon with his claws, but can’t seem to find a way. They blast out fire at each other, but still neither of them intend to let go of one another, they stay locked together. And before you knew it they begin to tumble towards the lake.

You quickly hold onto the ledge and lean over it to watch as Caraxes sinks his black teeth deep in Vhagar’s flesh, causing you to gasp and watch with even more stress.

Yet the old dragon herself doesn’t hold back and stabs her claws deep in Caraxes belly, making you cover your mouth as you fill with pity as the Blood Wyrm shrieks out in pain.

Vhagar doesn’t stop there nor does she try to pull away, she clamps her jaw on Caraxes wing and pulls back, tearing away The Red Wyrm's wing.

Perhaps this is how Aemond wins. The vision is true….

It had to be, you’re here, watching. You’re here with Aemond. The vision has to be true.

However, Caraxes counters the action by sinking his teeth deeper into Vhagar’s neck as they continue to fall towards the lake.

One of the riders needs to command their dragons away, those fools. They need to pull their dragons back.

Come on. Come on, pull away…

Nevertheless, nothing of the sort happens, Daemon begins to stand up with his sword Darksister in hand, but he doesn’t bend down to grab the dragon's chains, no, he swings his leg over his saddle instead. And before you know it without hesitation Daemon leaps off his dragon with his sword in hand.

“Aemond!” You cry out as if he can hear your worry and warning.

Said man struggles to try and undo the straps he had put on not so long ago. But to no avail, Daemon lands quickly on Vhagar’s back, causing your heart to begin to pound, and something…strange to now weigh over your chest.

“Aemond!” You call out desperately again and dig your fingers so hard on the stone that builds the ledge that your fingers begin to bleed.

Daemon wastes no time, he gives Aemond no time, he abruptly pulls Aemond’s helm off and then shoves his sword through Aemond’s remaining eye. He…he…

No. No.

“Aemond!” You shriek out.

No.

Only a second later both dragons crash into the lake below so hard and fast that they send water up so high that it overshadows the tower you stand on. The sound is so loud that it sounds like hundreds of thunderbolts went off in the sky.

Yet you can’t accept what you saw, so without checking for Alys once again, you swing around and sprint down the stone steps. When you’re out of the tower you rush to shore with your gowns skirt in hand.

You don’t cry, you can’t. You hold onto hope, you cling onto it even after you saw how Daemon drove his sword down Aemond’s head so hard that you swear you saw the end come out. And once you reach the shore, the only dragon you see clinging onto life is Caraxes; he’s trying to drag himself out of the water with the life force he has left. Vhagar on the other hand is still in the water, you can see a part of her sinking deeper in by the second. Yet you refuse to accept the truth. You deny it. You wait, and wait. And wait.

Blood stains the water and it hits your feet.

But that can’t be Aemond’s, it can’t be.

“Aemond?” You call out and step in the water. “Aemond?!” You keep walking deeper in, and search the water for any sign of your husband, of your best friend. “Aemond?!” You cry out and only stop when the water is around your neck. “AEMOND?!”

You go quiet after that and try to listen for him, for any splashing, but all you hear is Caraxes pained cries. And yet you just walk back to shore and wait again. You walk down the shore in search of Aemond, but nothing.

You continue to wait by the shore and hold onto your aching chest because you can’t believe he’s gone. Because you had heard Alys, she said he’d live if you came to him, she said she saw him, so he had to live. He had to.

He had to!

Maybe she knows something.

Thus without wanting to accept the sad truth, you avoid feeling grief and search for her. You walk to Astraea’s side because that’s where you had last seen Alys.

But to no avail, so you proceed to search inside the castle. You look in every corridor, every dustful corner. But there’s no sign of her. She’s gone. Alys is…gone, she…

You come to a stop outside the castle gates and fall to your knees with disbelief and horror painted over your face.

…she lied. Alys lied to you about Aemond’s fate. She lied and now he’s…

Oh gods…oh no, Aemond…he’s dead. He’s gone, he won’t come back to you, he won’t kiss you again, he won’t hold you against him, he won’t make love to you again. You won’t see him smile, or-or see him at all ever again.

Aemond is gone. He’s dead.

Oh gods.

That weight over your chest now becomes clear to you, it’s grief. Painful grief that makes everything go silent, that blurs everything around you, all you feel is ripping pain that makes you cry out and fall against the muddy ground.

You cry and cry out until your throat hurts and you can’t utter a sound. You shed tears until you can’t anymore.

He’s gone. He’s really gone…Aemond. The man you couldn't stop loving even after all he did to hurt you and your family. The father to your kids, the man you married. Your love. He’s gone forever.

And because of that pain, because of that revelation, anger then creeps in. Anger directed Alys. She lied and now she’s gone like a coward.

So this was her trick all along? Bring her here so she can see Aemond die, so she can see you in pain, and then escape?

After what? After you saved her? After she said she respected you? Vanessa was right about her, Aemond was right about her. She’s nothing but a filthy traitor who got pregnant by a man with dragon's blood, and then left him too. She’s a fucking traitor.

You’ll kill her. You will…

“Y/N?”

You slowly lift your eyes and see Addam.

But that can’t be right, he left.

“What are you doing are you mad?” He continues to talk as he quickens his pace to bend down and grab your arm.

His touch feels real and heavy, yet you can’t tell if he is real or just a figment of your imagination.

“Addam?” You whisper hoarsely.

Said man snaps his gaze to you as he picks you up and waits for an answer.

“Are you really here?” You ask and slowly reach for his arms.

Addam scoffs and studies your face as you grab ahold of his arms. “It seems the cold is already affecting your brain, huh? I’m really here. I was nearby on the Isle of Faces when I heard the commotion. I had to come scope it out when everything was silent…that’s when I spotted Astraea and Caraxes and decided to land.”

So he is real then. What a relief.

“Why don’t we go inside?” He says gently and doesn’t fret to pull his cloak off to throw it over your shoulders.

“Daemon?” You ask and look around. “I…I didn’t check for him. Is he okay?”

Addam stops walking and meets your gaze. “Y/N…there’s no way he could’ve survived that. Caraxes didn’t.”

He’s dead?

Figures, he had one wing left and a slashed belly. There’s no way he could’ve healed past that. But Daemon?

He didn’t get hurt, Aemond never got to hurt him. So why? Why is he gone too?

Gods what will you tell your mother? How will your mother react when you go back home?

“Come, I’ll clean you up and make some supper.” Addam says and continues to walk you inside the castle. You barely even register what’s going on, you feel numb to it all…

It’s not until you feel something sting your palms that you snap from your stupor and finally take in the fact that your half brother Addam is here with you.

“What were you doing at the Isle of Faces?” You probe softly as you watch his face.

Addam exhales deeply and slowly lifts his eyes to meet your gaze. “I went to get counsel from the Green Men…about what happened, about what I should do.”

You hum softly. “What are you going to do?” You wander out loud.

“Well…why don’t we first get you cleaned up, eat, and then talk, yes?” He avoids your question.

You don’t have the energy to fight it so you nod in agreement. “All right.”

Addam finishes cleaning the dirt and blood on your hands and stands up to sit beside you. “Your hair is dirty but that’s something you have to tell your handmaiden to take care of.”

That’s right…Alys. Alys is gone. She left after lying…that bitch.

That fucking bitch!

You abruptly stand up and swipe your bow and arrows that Addam had taken off you, and proceed to storm out of the parlor room.

“Whoa! Hey where are you going?!” Addam instantly asks as he quickly follows after you.

“I’m going to kill that witch,” you sneer.

Footsteps run after you before Addam forcefully grabs your arm and turns you around to face him. “No,” he snaps. “No you are not.”

You scoff and shoot him a pointed glare. “You won’t stop me! She lied to me! She lied about Aemond, he’s dead because of her! I am going to kill her!” You try to pull away but Addam grabs ahold of both of your arms and holds onto you tightly.

“Wh—” you gasp and squirm. “Let me go! Let me go!”

“No, she’s with child,” he argues sternly. “You will not kill her. No matter what she did that babe does not deserve that. You wouldn’t live with yourself if you killed her in her current state.”

You shake your head and feel the need to cry as pain hits you again, but you can’t shed a tear anymore. “Aemond is dead, Addam! He meant nothing to you, but he did to me. I tried to forget him, after all he killed my little brother and my grandmother, but I couldn’t stop loving him. It was a curse, my own. He was my best friend, my husband and the father of my kids, I loved him and now…now he’s dead. Gone forever because of Alys! Because I-I,” you point at yourself. “I believed what she saw! I have to kill her.”

Addam sighs deeply and doesn’t let you go, he just furrows his eyebrows and nods. “I get it, I may not know what it is you feel. But I get your pain, okay? But killing her won't solve anything, you’re a good person, y/n, I’ve known that since the moment I heard about you. Whatever that woman did won’t be worth it once you kill her and that babe inside her. Let the gods get payback, for you know that nothing good happens to people like that….mourn your husband, stay strong for your family, your mother and kids. Don’t…break now,” he says and slowly loosens his grip.

You sniffle and whimper as you slowly unstiffen under his hold, as you feel that sharp ache slowly dull at his words.

“I know it hurts, I know you’re mad,” he says softly. “But leave her. Focus your anger instead on something else, those traitors in Tumbleton, Daeron getting closer to try and take your mothers city,” he exclaims. “That’s who you need to be angry at. Them.”

You shake your head. “I can’t do it alone,” you mewl. “Astraea and I can’t do it alone. No matter how much I want to fight.”

Addam scoffs and begins to smirk. “Who says you’ll do it alone?” He rebuttals. “I’ll fight with you. We’ll piece together an army from those houses loyal to the Queen. We’ll fight together for your mother, for revenge on what they did to her, for revenge on the greens for what they did to your family,” he says smugly, making your need to cry slowly disappear and making you feel your anger and hunger for revenge heighten.

“But we can only fight if you’re strong,” he says and taps your chest. “Be strong.”

“Why?” You asks through all your building up excitement. “She wants you dead, why don’t you just leave?”

Addam lifts his chin and grins. “Because not every bastard is a turn cloak, I understand her suspicion, and I will fight to gain back her trust. I will fight for my family. That means you, sister.”

You gasp softly and offer him a faint smile.

“If that’s the case then,” you retort as you lean in closer. “I will fight for you, so she can forgive you. Just like I promised. I will fight for my mother like I promised Jace.” You pause and let out a deep breath, you let go of your smile and softened features and slowly begin to scowl and grow furious.

All your anger you had just felt for Alys, now shifts to the Greens. Now since Aemond is dead there’s nothing holding you back.

“I,” you mutter coldy. “Will kill them all. I will kill every last Green member.”

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