#of at least a small role in the series finale | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neptuneiris · 3 months

Text

Behind the Scenes (05/05)

Behind the Success

pairing: actor!aemond × fem!reader

summary: you and Aenar finally meet Aemond's family, closing one chapter of your life and starting a new one with Aemond in it.

word counter: 8.7k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

it's here!🥳

I've finally finished the chapter and I'm so excited for you guys to read this!

and how is it possible that another story is going to end soon? because if you didn't read my previous message, there will be an epilogue, so it's not yet the definitive goodbye for this little family we have created🤭

also before reading I want to thank you for your support and please leave me your opinion, lately the comments have gone down and I wish to read you🙏🏻

oh I also want to make a small clarification before you reed:

in the second chapter it is mentioned how aemond at the end confessed everything to his family in a desperate attempt to find Y/N. but let's forget that hehe🤭 let's pretend that aemond never told them so you can enjoy this chapter and the light drama you are about to read.

now read and enjoy, ily all!

warnings: slight angst, aemond's family melting our hearts when they meet aenar.

Aemond immerses himself in the world of acting with the same fierce dedication with which he confronts his characters on screen. Every move, every word, everything is carefully rehearsed and executed.

Each project is a challenge, an opportunity to explore new roles and demonstrate his versatility as an actor.

The hustle and bustle of the film set fills the air as he immerses himself in his role. The bright lights illuminate his face, conveying the intensity of his character as he delivers his lines with palpable emotion.

But when the bell rings, as well as the director's shout of "cut!" is heard, Aemond is Aemond again.

Behind all those shots, scenes, interviews and awards, no one knows that Aemond is a father, at least no one outside his close circle. He only confided the news to a few close co-workers, some production people and his older sister, Rhaenyra.

He managed to persuade some rumors after some people at first saw him entertaining Aenar in the nursery on the set, because even though there is nothing wrong with it and Aenar is his most precious treasure and a pride of his life, he knows it is better to protect him from the public eye.

And now that Aenar has his own nanny at home, sometimes even then the whispers would start to get too much and he would make sure that some member of the production crew, known for their ability to spread harmless gossip, would plant the idea that it was simply a close family friend of the child they had seen him with.

And in the midst of all his work and everything he has to do, Aemond finds the precious time to be with his son.

Aenar, a whirlwind of laughter and childlike energy, fills every space where the two are together with light. Games, stories and hugs become routine and Aemond cherishes every moment he can spend with him on his days off.

He even reduces his own working hours and focuses entirely on filming his scenes, also attending one or two interviews per month, in order to have more quality time with Aenar, who is more important than having to please the press at every moment.

And as he balances the intensity of the job with his responsibility as a father, Aemond fights for to rebuild the trust you once placed in him.

Every gesture, every conversation, was an effort to demonstrate that he is fully committed to getting things right this time. Every encounter with you, he demonstrates a quiet determination to making amends for past mistakes.

With carefully chosen words and acts of genuine support, he tries to show you that he understands the pain he had caused and is willing to go out of his way to regain your trust.

And you accept this, because you see how he makes an effort to open up more, to share his thoughts, his fears and his hopes. But above all, you see how he is making an effort with Aenar, which is the most important thing.

And you also see how parental responsibility has changed his perspective and maturity. But still, Aemond knows that rebuilding trust takes time and forgiveness is not something that can or should be rushed.

Even if you decide never to forgive him, he's okay with that and is getting the idea from now on that you only allow him to be close to you because of Aenar and only because of Aenar.

So in the meantime, you immerse yourself in your own workday.

The makeup and wardrobe trailer is a world of constant motion and productivity in any given area, though your mind is always on Aenar and also on Aemond.

And even though you both carry separate jobs at the same place during the day, you both manage to create a balance between your jobs and raising Aenar.

Evenings were for you and Aenar if Aemond didn't finish recording at the same time as your shift ends. And almost at dusk is when Aemond comes from work and devotes every minute of his free afternoon to Aenar.

Instead if you both finished your shifts at the same time, you both spent time together with Aenar.

However, the nights brought calm.

Once Aenar fell asleep and before Aemond retired, you and he find your own space to talk, share thoughts, talk about work or more importantly about Aenar. And today just happens to be one of those nights.

You finish cleaning the kitchen, while Aemond is sitting on one of the stools, with a cup of coffee in his hands, looking out the large windows to the back garden, thoughtful.

While he has in front of him the IPad with the image of the camera in Aenar's crib that records him sleeping, attentive and making sure he is well.

"I've been thinking a lot lately," he says, breaking the silence in a soft voice, catching your attention.

You watch him from the sink, setting a clean, dry dish in the drainer, then drying your hands with a clean cloth.

"About what?" you ask him softly, attentively.

And he takes a moment before answering, thinking very carefully about his words and what he means, not wanting you to misunderstand him in any way.

"On Aenar and... us."

He confesses and you lean on the other side of the island that separates you both in front of him, giving him your full attention.

"At first..." he starts to say, slightly flustered, "You didn't want me to hide him from the world and I-I... well, I obviously disagreed with you."

He says and bites the inside of his cheek, lowering his gaze, feeling embarrassed.

"But now... I think it's not fair to him that no one has any idea that I have a son. It's also not fair for anyone to know that you're the mother of my child."

His gaze again meets yours and a sense of understanding envelops both him and you.

"Now things have changed," Aemond continues, his tone laden with sincerity, "And I know that you and I are n-not together but... maybe... I can announce the news, only if you want me to."

Silence fills the kitchen in its entirety for a moment, as Aemond holds his breath at your possible response, honestly feeling terrified to expect a bad reaction from you.

But none of that crosses your mind, on the contrary, you just digest his words. But your silence is what causes a mixture of expectation and anxiety in Aemond, who holds his gaze with yours, nervous.

And finally, with a serene sigh, you go around the island that separates the two of you and approach him, placing one of your hands on his shoulder gently and in an attempt to comfort and reassure him, instantly feeling his whole figure tense, while he watches you with his big healthy wide eye and his prosthetic eye remains the same as always.

"Aemond," you begin to say in a soft voice as he watches you completely attentively, "I always wanted you to recognize Aenar publicly, that was what I wanted most at first. But now...

You pause for a moment, thinking about your meditated words, as you sink for a second into your own thoughts and what you really want to say, as Aemond watches you intently, waiting for you to continue.

"I understand your world more now," you continue, "And, honestly, I can't blame you for not agreeing with me back then, only in this," you make clear, "Recognize him legally would have been the right thing to do and... enough," you say holding back the sadness in your tone of voice.

But Aemond catches that break in your voice, a moment of your vulnerability that makes him feel a sharp, simmering ache in his chest, as if every word you utter drops a weight on his shoulders, with shame again invading him, but this time with a mixture of deep remorse and regret.

A barely audible sigh escapes his lips, lowering his gaze, ashamed, feeling the burden of his past choices and he wonders amidst the brief silence if he will ever be able to fully redeem with himself.

But he doesn't have much time to think about it, as you gently squeeze his shoulder to bring his attention back to you.

"And now I understand that the press and people's opinions can be very dangerous and destructive," you say softly, "And I don't want that for Aenar, at least I don't want to deal with that yet," you confess, "I want him to grow up a little more and we can both enjoy his early years without having to worry about it."

An expression of surprise and also longing crosses Aemond's face, still watching you intently, processing your words.

"Are you sure?"

You place a soft smile on your lips.

"Very," you assure, "I just want him to grow up in a calm and safe place, without falling fame on him nor all this attention being so young," you explain, "I have no problem with it, but also your opinion counts."

"No, I-I... I want the same for him too," he agrees with you, nodding, with all the pressure and anxiety he felt being replaced by a mixture of gratitude and relief.

And you nod back at him, smiling softly in his direction.

"But..." he says with a slight urgency in his gaze and concern in his tone, "I just want you to know that when the time comes, I won't do it for attention or to be relevant."

He says seriously, softly and honestly.

""I'll do it because I know it's something I have to do, for him and for you, as in the beginning maybe it should have been. But for now I just want us to enjoy these moments and, when the time is right, make that decision together."

The room fills with the honesty of his words and you can feel the sincerity in each of them, as a sense of calm envelops you both and you share a soft, complicit smile.

"Sure," you nod to him, feeling a warmth wrap itself all over your chest.

Your gaze moves away from his for a moment, focusing on the iPad screen where Aenar is shown sleeping, while Aemond can't help but focus on the features of your face with an intensity that can't go unnoticed by you.

Deep longing is reflected in his gaze, with a palpable mix of regret and sadness that is projected beyond mere facial expression. And he feel that weight on his body and chest again, a burden he can't help but feel.

His healthy eye glides over your face as if searching for answers in every line of expression and in his gaze, you can perceive the longing to repair the irremediable, the need to know how much he regrets the decisions of the past.

"Y/N-

He starts to want to say, his voice laden with regret, but you turn your gaze to him and stop him.

"Aemond, we have already talked about this."

"But I'm sorry... I really am," he insists, with pain in his gaze, "And I know an apology isn't going to fix it, I know that, neither is anything else but... I am really sorry and you don't know how much I hate myself for everything I put you through."

"No," you shake your head, "There's no need for you to keep apologizing," you tell him softly, "It won't do either of us any good to keep bringing up the mistakes of the past. Nor will it serve you to keep punishing yourself for what has already happened," you say as tactfully as you can.

His expression reflects a mixture of gratitude and frustration with yourself.

"Yes, I know, I understand," he murmurs, lowering his gaze, "It's just... I feel like I have to say it."

"Aemond, what matters now is this, how we move forward from here now that we've both learned and grown. Aenar too," you add, "And that's all that matters."

He nods slowly in your direction, his gaze showing a mixture of appreciation and relief, even with the remorse within him, as you both then sink into a moment of silence, letting the unspoken words echo in the air, but you both know those words, they just don't need to be said.

The relationship dynamic between you and Aemond since then takes a new path, a less tense, more bearable path of total trust. And this is not lost when the two of you are together in Aenar's presence.

Until one day, on your day off precisely, Aemond after work, comes to you telling you some unexpected news.

"I told them."

You turn fully towards him, giving him your full attention, understanding but at the same time not what he really means.

The living room starts to feel tense, while Aenar completely oblivious to it continues to play on the floor with his toys, but you focus on his gaze, where there is a charge of confession in his eye and you notice his whole body in a position of determination but also nervousness.

"Come, sit down," you tell him in a soft voice, pointing to the couch, while at the same time getting up from the floor to take a seat next to him.

And he almost with a defeated expression and posture, does as you say, letting out a sigh.

"What happened?" you ask, watching him intently.

He inhales deeply, looking at Aenar on the floor, who is the only one who can make him feel a little calmer, as well as your presence next to him.

"I told them about everything that happened," he confesses to you, "Our relationship, your pregnancy, my team, the decision I made in the beginning, everything I caused and how much I hurt you," he says as he feels his heart knot, "Everything. Everything that happened from then until now... and Aenar."

His words leave a weight in the air, as you anticipate how bad and difficult that conversation must have gone with his family to see him this way, so serious and tense.

"And how did they react?"

Aemond closes his eye, lowering his gaze, his posture reflecting the emotional baggage he carries with him and how bad it definitely went with it.

"Just as I expected. Obviously they were disappointed in me."

He says without much emotion, but with slight pain in his tone

"My grandfather couldn't believe it and was shouting how come I kept all that from them. Hel was very shocked, Aegon and Daeron too. And mother said a few hurtful things, started crying and telling me how I could keep these things from her," he exhales deeply, "Rhaenyra and Daemon were the ones who helped me calm things down a bit, but still my grandfather and mother were upset with her for knowing and not saying anything."

The tension of what happened feels palpable, as if he is reliving his family's every reaction, with the heaviness of disappointment and pain reflected in his expression, as you beside hom, share the weight of that difficult moment.

You are both silent for a moment, only hearing the sounds of Aenar playing with his toys.

"I'm sorry," you whisper in his direction, placing your hand on top of his, as if trying to somehow ease the pain he feels, "It must have been very difficult for you."

"No, Y/N," he observes you instantly, speaking to you in a soft tone, "You don't have to apologize. I deserved this and I'm not saying it to cause pity or play the victim," he adds with earnest sincerity, "I'm saying it because it's true. This is the least I deserve after everything you had to go through because of me."

You decide not to say anything at this, just offer him your silent support, while he again seems lost in his own thoughts for a few long seconds, where neither of you say anything.

When suddenly, Aenar emits an infectious giggle, instantly attracting both of your attention.

His small hands hold a toy with enthusiasm, his smile and the tenderness he conveys bringing brightness to the living room and the state Aemond is in, who smiles softly at the scene, watching him with complete adoration.

He sighs and rises from the couch, moving towards him, holding him gently, needing the sensation at that moment of holding him in his arms.

Aenar squeals with excitement and joy, placing his small arms on his chest, moving energetically in his arms, smiling big at him with his blue eyes completely filled with a glow.

The scene makes you smile softly, especially when Aemond also takes one of his toys and begins to play with it in his arms as he starts to walk slowly around the living room, talking to it in a honeyed tone and causing Aenar to babble incomprehensible words but full of happiness in his tone.

And when Aenar entertains himself with his father's silver hair, Aemond speaks again, turning to you to observe you.

"Despite everything, they want to meet him," he says, watching Aenar in his arms, "And they also want to meet you, my mother more than anyone else."

And this also completely grabs your attention.

"Really?"

"Hmm," he nods, "But I didn't tell them yes or no," he lets you know, "I wanted to consult it with you first."

"But is this good or not?" you ask, looking to find positivity in the situation, "Or do you think they shouldn't know him yet?"

"Of course they should," he tells you softly, "I owe this to them, also to you. But as I tell you, I didn't know how you would react if I told you they would meet him soon, I wanted to check with you first."

You place a reassuring smile in his direction.

"Aemond, for me it's perfect for Aenar to meet his grandmother, his uncles and aunts. It's a great opportunity and will definitely be good for him," you assure him.

"Yes, it is," he nods, unconsciously beginning to imagine the moment, "They can come or we can go to them, whichever you decide."

"Either way is fine with me," you shrug, "When might that be?"

Aemond thinks for a moment before answering.

"We could arrange it next weekend. Sounds good?"

You nod with a reassuring little smile.

"Sounds good."

The Targaryen—Hightower family decides to come to you.

When Aemond gives you the news, even though at first you were totally fine and had no problem with it, inevitably knowing it instantly makes you nervous.

You've never met his family before, not even when you and Aemond were a couple for obvious reasons. And even though his family isn't involved within the entertainment and film industry, you've still heard enough about them to feel slightly intimidated.

About Alicent Hightower, Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen more than anyone.

The uncertainty of how they will perceive you, especially after disappearing from Aemond's life without warning and also how they will treat you, that's what worries you the most.

But the fact that they will be coming to your house relieves you a little. Fortunately you won't be interacting with them in unfamiliar terrain and you're sure that the presence of Aenar, his toys and Aemond will go a long way to reassuring you.

"Do you need help?"

Aemond appears behind you, while you find yourself cleaning everything you can from your living room and Aenar, as usual, is sitting on the carpet with all his toys around him.

"I'm just cleaning up in here, then I'll go clean the kitchen."

"Don't worry, me and this little handsome will clean the kitchen."

He walks over to Aenar and takes him in his arms, who is already dressed in an outfit too cute for the occasion and smells like baby soap from the previous bath you gave him, ready to meet his family.

Aemond goes with him to the kitchen, sitting him in his perch, keeping an eye on him while at the same time starting to clean up.

You start moving some of Aenar's toys, organizing his play area a bit, to create a more orderly and cozy space in the living. You also mop the floor and arrange cushions.

Aemond washes a few dirty dishes and cleans all the shelves, also mops and spreads your favorite Lavender scent, which besides smelling amazing, calms your nerves.

You also ask him to help you tidy up the dining room while you clean the bathroom, wanting everything to look clean and spotless, while Aemond takes Aenar in his arms again to let him play in his play area and he watches him closely from that new distance.

"Maybe I should have cooked something?"

You walk over to him, slightly concerned.

"What? No," he turns to you, instantly, "Y/N, they're coming to meet Aenar, not to eat."

"I know, but..." you explain, nervously, "I thought maybe it would be a good idea to have something prepared, out of courtesy and.... I don't know. Won't it be rude of me if I don't have anything to offer them?"

"Of course not, you don't have to," he clarifies, more serious but with a soft tone, "If you want to have something prepared, let it be some drinks, nothing more."

Still you watch him hesitantly and worriedly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, very sure," he assures you, "In fact I'll prepare them. You rest and take care of Aenar. I'll finish cleaning up everything else."

"No, I-I-

"Rest," he repeats, interrupting you, placing a hand on your cheek gently, "I know this may be overwhelming, but they will come to meet Aenar and you too. And you don't have to put too much pressure on yourself. Everything will be fine."

Her warmth and understanding manage to comfort you a little, making you stop feeling so tense little by little.

"Now rest, okay?" he says softly to then walk past you and head towards the kitchen, not taking any argument back.

It's clear that he wants to lighten your load and make sure you feel comfortable about all this that's about to happen, with his actions conveying reassurance.

And finally after a while, you are ready and waiting in the living room with Aenar, playing with him, while Aemond is sitting on the single sofa and who a few minutes ago let you know that his family is on their way.

And after a few more long minutes, Aemond now lets you know that his family has already passed through the security gate that leads into the private neighborhood.

Knowing that fills you with nerves again, but Aenar's babbling as he hands you his currently favorite toys distracts you a bit.

"Are you okay?"

Aemond asks you from where he sits, watching you intently and noticing the tension all over your face and body, while you try to look completely calm and relaxed.

"Yeah, yeah, just... a little nervous," you say trying to place a genuine smile on your face as you distract yourself by touching Aenar's toys, "Who exactly is coming? Other than your mother and siblings," you can't help but ask.

"My grandfather."

You watch him expectantly, waiting for him to tell you more, but he doesn't.

"And that's everyone?"

"Well, Rhaenyra said my nephews wanted to come too, my uncle Daemon with his daughters too but I asked them to wait a little longer," he explains to you slightly concerned, "I didn't want you to feel nervous and overwhelmed if my whole family invaded your house. And Aenar sure would have felt scared too."

You bite the inside of your cheek and he rises from the couch to walk over to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry, okay? It's going to be fine. They're excited to meet you and Aenar."

You release a long breath through your nose, placing one of your hands on top of his, feeling your shoulders especially start to feel less tense.

"Yes... thank you," you tell him with gratitude in your gaze, appreciating his support.

And then the doorbell rings.

Aemond gives you one last reassuring glance, assuring you that everything will be fine, then turns and heads for the door to greet them, as you rise from the couch and take Aenar in your arms.

The tension in your shoulders gradually dissolves as you hold your baby in your arms, replaced by a sense of calm, as you watch the front door intently and finish mentally preparing yourself.

Aemond opens the door gently with a warm smile on his lips and the first to enter is his mother, Alicent Hightower, in a beautiful, elegant green dress, followed by who you assume is Otto Hightower, his grandfather.

His mother wraps her arms around him and leaves a loving kiss on his cheek which Aemond reciprocates, as he also greets his grandfather, who watches the entire interior of the house with an inspecting gaze.

Behind Otto enters Rhaenyra, who embraces Aemond.

"Thank you for coming," Aemond says to her, leaving a kiss on her cheek.

"Of course," she smiles at him, leaving a soft kiss on his cheek as well before pulling away from him.

"You guys too, thank you," she says to Aegon and the rest of her brothers, "Come on in."

Both brothers, Aegon and Daeron, embrace him, speaking words of assurance, leaving Helaena at last, who throws herself into his arms with obvious emotion, smiling with joy and longing, as Aemond leaves a kiss in her hair.

Then Aemond closes the door and before heading towards you, who are still standing very still near the couch with Aenar in his arms, his whole family finally notices you and especially the child in your arms.

"Thank you for coming, all of you," Aemond repeats as he turns to you, "Let me introduce you to Y/N," he points to you, "She works on the same recording set I am currently working on as well."

You put on the best friendly and kind smile possible, as Aemond takes Aenar in his arms so that you can meet his family. And the first to address you is Alicent, with her stunning elegance and a soft smile on a warm face.

"Nice to finally meet you, my dear. My son has spoken so much about you."

The tension almost completely leaves your body, feeling grateful and relieved by the welcoming tone of her voice, evaporating your fear about how everyone, especially her, would treat you.

"The pleasure is mine. I'm happy you're here."

You reach out your hand to her and, pleased, she takes it. But she takes you by surprise when she pulls you closer to her and wraps you in a gentle embrace, definitely not expecting that.

You freeze for a moment, then, a little hesitantly, return her embrace, grateful for the affectionate welcome. And when you both part, she has a smile that denotes sincerity and cordiality, then points you to Aemond's grandfather behind her.

"This is my father, Otto," Alicent introduces you as he watches you with an appraising expression, "He has also heard much about you and was very pleased to come here."

And though his look is somewhat... intimidating, you don't let that invade your nerves.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hightower," you tell him in a soft, polite voice, extending your hand to shake with his as well.

"The pleasure is mine, Y/N," he replies in a low, polite voice, shaking your hand briefly.

"And this is Rhaenyra," Alicent points you to the woman who is just as refined as she is and shares Aemond's same characteristic of silver hair, as do the rest of his siblings.

She smiles towards you and gracefully approaches, then embraces you in greeting mode, as does Alicent.

"It's nice to finally meet you," she tells you cheerfully, "Aemond told me so much about you and of course your little one," she tells you as she gives Aenar a loving look.

"The pleasure is all mine. Aemond also spoke a lot about you and was very excited to meet you," you tell her, as she holds your hands in a gentle grip.

"Well here we are," she tells you without wiping away her smile, then looks behind her, turning her attention to the rest of Aemond's siblings, "Oh and they are my siblings," she gestures you towards Aegon, Daeron and Helaena, who have friendly glances in your direction.

Aegon steps forward first, extending his hand.

"I am Aegon. I hope you're not feeling overwhelmed with so many silverheads invading your home."

"No, no, not at all," you laugh softly, taking his hand, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Aegon."

Daeron is next, greeting you with a friendly smile.

"Hello, nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Daeron. Aemond told us a lot about you and Aenar."

"Pleasure to meet you, Daeron," you say, noting the sincere camaraderie emanating from both brothers.

And finally, Helaena gives a few towards you, with an expression of pure excitement on her face and hugs you effusively.

"At last we meet!" she exclaims happily, "I was so excited to see you."

"Oh," you respond to her hug also a little surprised and with gratitude, "It's nice to meet you. Aemond has also told me a lot about you.".

"Good things, I hope," she says with a smile, pulling away from you.

And gosh, you can just see how much her sisters and brothers resemble Aemond. Their beauties are otherworldly and even Alicent is truly beautiful, as much as Rhaenyra is.

"And this..." begins to announce Aemond with Aenar in his arms and a radiant smile lighting up his face as he approaches the center of the living room, where his entire family watches him intently, "This is our son, Aenar," he says with pride in his voice, finally introducing his son.

Everyone's gaze focuses on the baby in Aemond's arms, who oblivious to the situation, watches them back with his huge bright blue eyes curious and expectant, while you place a small smile, anticipating the magical meeting of your little one with the rest of his family.

Helaena, visibly moved, can't hold back tears and tries to calm herself, with happiness, longing and nostalgia in her eyes. Aegon smiles with pride and Rhaenyra with adoration.

And meanwhile, Daeron, Otto and Alicent barely finish processing the reality of having Aenar in front of them.

Until Alicent steps forward gently, his eyes and gaze shining with curiosity, slight surprise, longing and adoration as he watches the little one, his newly presented grandson.

"Is that my grandson?" she murmurs in disbelief with tears beginning to form in her eyes and a hand on her chest.

Aemond, with a warm smile, nods at the question.

"Yes, Mom," he gently observes her and seeing her condition, looks at her with complete understanding, "Do you want to hold him?" he offers, carefully extending Aenar to her, sharing in the joy of her holding her grandson.

Alicent, tears streaming down her cheeks and visibly moved, nods in a touched nod with her gaze reflecting all her emotions, joy and awe.

She takes another step forward and reaches out her arms, where Aemond carefully places Aenar in her arms, who now watches him adoringly and with a mixture of happiness and emotion reflected in her gaze.

Alicent can't help but let out a couple more tears as Aenar babbles and watches her with great wonder, moving his small hands to her brown hair, starting to play with her curls, making her laugh softly in the midst of her tears and all the emotions she feels.

Aemond watches his mother tenderly as she enjoys her first encounter with her grandson, while you can't help but feel moved as well and wipe away a few tears that have escaped your eyes, watching the moment with emotion and nostalgia.

"My little Aenar," Alicent whispers, tenderly kissing his forehead, cradling him in her arms.

Aemond, still smiling and holding back his tears, diverts his gaze to you and you watch him back, where you both share a small smile and a silent complicity, both feeling the same way and recognizing the happiness this moment has brought to your lives.

And then Helaena approaches together with Daeron towards her mother, to watch Aenar and share the joy of the moment.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" comments Helaena, smiling, as Daeron watches him with a small smile of adoration and strokes his silver hair tenderly.

"Absolutely beautiful," whispers Alicent, her eyes shining with tenderness, not taking her eyes off him for a second.

"He's lovely," Rhaenyra comments with her soft little smile.

And then Alicent lifts his gaze to Aemond.

"And he looks exactly like you, darling," she tells him tenderly, recognizing the familiar features on Aenar's face and creating a moment full of emotion and family connection.

Aemond, touched and grateful, smiles at his mother's words.

"I think he has a little bit of both," Aemond replies, sharing a proud look with you.

Aenar physically by hair and eyes resembles Aemond, but some features of his face he definitely inherited from you and you can't help but smile in his direction.

And then, within the next few minutes, the whole family continues to make affectionate moments with Aenar. Helaena being the most excited is the one who now holds Aenar tenderly in her arms, leaving a couple of loving kisses on her cheek, while Rhaenyra approaches her to observe Aenar with a motherly gaze.

The imposing figure of Otto Hightower stands watching with satisfaction the scene unfolding in front of him, especially as he sees the happiness and excitement of Alicent and his grandchildren.

He doesn't say much, but his presence exudes a sense of quiet approval and though he doesn't show it, he honestly feels proud of Aemond, this reunion of his family and the arrival of a new member to it.

As Aegon approaches towards Aemond with a friendly, warm smile, placing a hand on his shoulder where he shares his gesture of brotherhood and pride.

"Congratulations, brother," he tells him sincerely, "He is beautiful and a mini version of you."

Aemond nods gratefully, the smile on his lips and places one of his hands on top of his.

"Thank you, brother. I appreciate it."

Now it is Daeron who takes Aenar in his arms and carries him to his play area, followed by Helaena, Rhaenyra, Alicent and you.

Helaena also takes a seat on the carpet with Alicent and the three of them start playing with him, who shows his enthusiasm and fills the living room with his giggles, melting the hearts of everyone present.

The atmosphere definitely becomes livelier and warmer, transforming into a special moment for everyone, where both you and Aenar feel completely comfortable and happy.

And as a few long minutes pass, Aemond watches all the interaction, happy and completely pleased, seeing how you converse with Rhaenyra and the rest of his family is totally entertained by Aenar.

Even his mother asks to have her picture taken with him and slowly begins to fill a new photo album of her grandson on her phone reel, completely enchanted with him.

Such a sight and such a moment couldn't make him happier, being a moment he needed so much and couldn't be more proud of. And how could he not?

His watching his son integrate into his family. And you are definitely getting along great with all of them.

Aegon stands by his side, sharing the gesture of complicity as they watch Helaena and Daeron make sounds with Aenar's toys that make him laugh and squeal with happiness.

Absolutely beautiful.

"So..." Aegon begins to say beside him, catching his attention, "You're going to show him to the world?"

He watches him intently, as Aemond holds his gaze for a second to look back at Aenar with an affectionate gaze, smiling softly.

"That's what Y/N would have wanted at first, when she got pregnant," he says softly, remembering those painful moments, "But no, at least not yet," he replies, turning his gaze back to his brother, "We talk and want to give him a normal childhood as much as possible."

Aegon nods with understanding, listening to him with full attention, then lets out a sigh, watching Aenar.

"The world is going to go mad when they find out, little brother," he says with an amused smile.

"I don't care," he says with a shrug, "All I care about is him."

Aegon smiles warmly again, acknowledging Aemond's priority as a father and he couldn't be prouder of him. He may be the older brother but Aemond...he's the one who matured first, always cleaning up his shit and making sure everyone was okay.

And even though when Aemond told them about this, about you and Aenar, it turned out to be a complete disaster, Aegon is glad that right now his family is responding in this way, loving you and Aenar.

"And what happened to Criston?"

He decides to ask you, curious and attentive, as Aemond takes a moment and exhales deeply, he too being a person who brings back horrible memories of the past.

"I fired him," he replies with a disinterested wave of his hand, "And his entire team too," he adds, "That's what I should have done in the beginning with him."

"And he threatened you?"

Aemond lets out an amused smile, remembering those days as well.

"Yes but I hired a lawyer and they made him sign a confidentiality sheet," he explains, "He couldn't do anything against that."

Aegon nods, pleased to hear those words, as you both turn your gaze back to the family, where Aenar's laughter still echoes throughout the living room, Aemond smiling lovingly as he watches his mother assail him with soft kisses.

Your soft laughter catches your attention as well, watching you with almost the same adoration and love as he watches Aenar, watching you converse with Rhaenyra where you both let out soft giggles at whatever it is you are talking about.

And he can't help but watch you extra longingly, wistfully, happily and longingly, loving to see the smile on your lips and the look of joy you have, his perfect and beautiful Y/N.

He honestly doesn't know what would have become of him if he had never seen you again. He'll probably still be sunk in his misery, regretful and trapped. But with each passing day he thanks the Gods for this, again and again, this second chance.

And Aegon doesn't take this unnoticed, the way his brother is looking at you.

"You really fucked things up with her, didn't you?"

His words break the spell he was under and he bites his lips, averting his gaze from you, beginning to feel ashamed and also with that guilt simmering in his chest.

"Yeah," he replies in a low murmur.

"You still love her."

Aegon tells him watching him intently with a complicity and understanding, not asking any questions, as he is making a statement, affirming it.

And Aemond again speaks the truth, neither denying it nor hiding it.

"Never stop doing so."

Aegon lets out a long breath, honestly feeling bad for him, to place his hand on his shoulder again.

"Brother, we all make mistakes," he tells him softly, "People fuck up and fuck up badly. I'm sure you get that from a person like me," he points to himself, still speaking in a serious tone, "And the important thing is to learn from them and move on. And I'm sure she's seen that in you."

"No, Aegon," he says softly, shaking his head, "What happened between us was different and... unforgivable," he says with the slight pain in his tone, "This is all happening only for Aenar and his well-being."

"So you don't plan to do anything about it?"

"I don't know," he says regretfully, letting out a sigh, "Things are complicated. And with everything that happened surely Y/N doesn't feel that way about me anymore. Besides what really matters is Aenar and I want to be a good father to him."

"I understand that, brother. But maybe all is not lost and all you need to do is try," he tells him in an encouraging tone, "Life is unpredictable, you know? And who knows... maybe Y/N still has feelings for you."

Aemond grimaces.

"I don't know, bro. I don't think so."

Aegon decides to say no more, just nods, for after all, he understands the complexity of his situation. And inevitably, though he shouldn't, with the words he has spoken to him, Aemond feels a small glimmer of hope.

Meanwhile the inside of your house continues to fill with laughter and conversation as everyone enjoys family time. And in the middle of it all, Alicent notices you going to the kitchen for a moment, this catching her attention and being the opportunity to talk to you.

So, giving her attention away from her grandson since she arrived, without saying anything to anyone, she discreetly follows you into the kitchen.

As she passes through the frame, she sees you arranging the drinks that Aemond prepared for them on a tray, wanting to offer them. But when Alicent's figure entering the kitchen catches your attention, you immediately turn to her.

"I don't intend to take up too much of your time, my dear," Alicent hastens to speak with a small smile on her lips.

"Oh, yeah, yeah," you nod immediately, "Do you need something?"

"I just want to talk to you," she answers you softly, "And it's nothing bad, I just... want to thank you for welcoming us into your home," she says, showing the sincerity in her look and tone, "I honestly haven't felt this happy in my life in a long time. And meeting Aenar has definitely made me very happy," she pauses a little, "Thank you."

"No, no, you don't have to thank me," you reply, with a soft look, "It's a pleasure to have all of you here. And you have made Aenar very happy too."

"No, I really do thank you," she insists with a soft tone, "Your home is beautiful and definitely an excellent place for Aenar to grow up."

"Oh, thank you," you smile kindly at her, "Actually this house was bought by Aemond. He must have told them or at least you, I suppose."

"Yes, he did," she nods, "He also told us how much you refused at first but I understand you. It must have been a very meaningful but very overwhelming gesture for you."

You nod with understanding, biting your lips.

"Yes," you murmur, "Yes it was. But I only accepted for Aenar," you hasten to clarify, "I didn't do it for my own convenience, whether for money or fame. I accepted for Aenar, so that he could have his father in his life and together give him the best."

"Yes, sweetheart," she advances towards you and takes your hands between her gently, "I know," she assures you, "You don't have to explain anything, everything is more than understandable."

You let out a long breath.

"Thank you," you tell her sincerely.

"It's okay," she smiles softly at you, "And listen, I-I... I really don't want to make you uncomfortable nor do I want to make you feel bad, in fact Aemond asked me not to talk to you about this but..." she looks at you with some tenderness and longing, "I just want to tell you how very brave you are, Y/N."

You shudder at the sweetness of her unexpected words, feeling a warmth run through your chest as a mixture of gratitude and longing flashes across your face, suddenly feeling completely vulnerable.

"I didn't blame you for deciding to run away, no one judges you for it."

She lets you know by telling you in a soft voice and as tactfully as possible.

"As much as I would have loved to have met you sooner, Aemond's decisions were terrible and I can't imagine everything you had to go through on your own," she says with slight shock and sadness, holding your hand tighter, "Your pregnancy, living in a new unfamiliar place and trying to make it on your own."

You bite your lips, feeling a sharp pain in your chest and tears begin to form in your eyes, but you gather your strength and try not to let them fall despite the memories of painful moments.

Her words resonate with genuine understanding and her warm touch brings you a comfort you didn't expect but definitely needed.

"Yes," you whisper, feeling the lump in your throat, "It was very scary and very difficult," you confess, "But Aenar made every sacrifice worth it."

"Of course," she murmurs, with a sympathetic look.

"Oh and... it must have been hard for you too," you say, remembering, "In those days seeing Aemond so sad and desperate must have worried you a lot. It even almost put in danger his career and you had no idea about me and what had happened."

"Yes, that was very scary too," she nods with a sad smile, "We didn't know what had happened, he pushed everyone away, even Helaena and... I couldn't stand to see him like that, but he wouldn't accept our help either," she explains, "But now, just like me, I've never seen Aemond so happy in his life."

Her tone is genuine and you hold her gaze with appreciation and understanding, feeling completely grateful for this pleasant acceptance and welcome by Aemond's family.

And in that moment you can feel, as Alicent does, how your connection grows stronger in your shared understanding of past challenges and new hope.

"You are a strong woman, Y/N. And I also want you to know that regardless of the circumstances between you and Aemond, I want you to know that you are part of our family now and we are here to support you."

You feel a happiness and relief course through your body, grateful for her words and her total understanding, as you nod in her direction.

"Thank you, Alicent."

And Alicent unable to contain herself, wraps you in a hug full of tenderness that you reciprocate, with the atmosphere filling with a sense of mutual acceptance and support.

And from there, the rest of the afternoon is spent sharing laughter and creating special memories.

Aegon plays with Aenar while Daeron and Helaena join in the fun, making your little one laugh with every quip and funny face that Aegon especially makes.

Alicent and Rhaenyra also join in, creating a connection with Aenar and showing him affection, while Aemond and you watch it all sitting together on the couch, each with a smile on your lips.

Until the visit comes to an end and the family says goodbye with expressions of gratitude and affection. Helaena is the one who insists on exchanging numbers to stay in touch, while she along with Alicent and Aegon promise to visit again soon.

It's a bit hard for Alicent to want to let go of Aenar, but eventually she does and then Aemond and you finish picking up and sorting all of Aenar's scattered toys.

Until it's also time for Aemond to leave.

"Thank you for this day. It was amazing and better than I could have hoped for. Even mom loves you more than she ever loved me."

You smile in his direction sincerely, laughing softly.

"It was nothing, Aemond. It was all very nice. Your family was very kind and Aenar had a great time."

"Yes," he murmurs as he watches his little boy adoringly and then turns his gaze back to you, "Still, thank you... for everything."

You see the intent in his gaze, also in his body, the way he fights it, catching your attention and being a bit amused at it, then moving towards him and wrapping your arms around his neck, hugging him.

Surprised and definitely not expecting that, Aemond doesn't take long to reciprocate your embrace, a little hesitantly at first but he does, slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you close against him.

A sigh escapes his lips as he closes his eye, feeling that warmth in his body and that almost happiness at the sensation of having you close again.

He had missed it.

The embrace conveys a mutual support and understanding, also a kind of affection that Aemond can't quite decipher.

But honestly at that moment he doesn't mind and allows himself to enjoy and seize every moment of this feeling, knowing that he may not be able to have you again soon in this way, before you both part and he drives to his apartment.

Regular visits from the Aemond family to your home become a pleasant daily moment. Each encounter brings laughter, love and a sense of family unity.

Aenar, with his contagious laughter, becomes the center of attention, further strengthening family bonds.

The bond between Aenar and his relatives grows stronger over time, so his extended family becomes fully involved in his growth and development. Laughter and play fill the halls of your home, creating precious memories.

Eventually you also meet the rest of Aemond's family as well as Aenar, like Daemon Targaryen, who is definitely a bit more intimidating than Otto Hightower. But once Daemon feels confident, he's the coolest guy.

You also meet Aemond's cousins, the twins Baela and Rhaena, Daemon's daughters, who are extremely kind and sweet to you.

And you also meet Rhaenyra's sons, Jace, Luke and Joffrey, where eventually she also introduces you to her youngest children, Aegon and Viserys.

Your relationship with each member of the Targaryen-Hightower family develop into genuine friendships. Helaena, Rhaenyra and Alicent become confidants and allies to Aenar's shared upbringing.

The complicity between the women in the family is supportive and builds a safe and loving environment for Aenar and the rest of the children.

Until, on occasion, you decide to take Aenar to the majestic Targaryen-Hightower mansion. The incredible residence becomes a second home for him, who explores every corner with curiosity and becomes familiar with the new walls.

Aegon, as the older brother he is, becomes his second protective figure. Together they share adventures through the mansion's extensive gardens and enjoy playing with Legos blocks or his plastic carts.

With Helaena, she connects with Aenar through her charm and utterly beautiful aura, always playing with him, carrying him in her arms and telling him fantasy stories with gestures and figures.

And with Daeron, Aenar loves it when he watches his favorite cartoons with him. Also eventually Aenar becomes his weakness, as he always fills him with more toys and always thinks of him to give him everything that makes him happy, even food.

And when Aenar cries, Daeron is the first of the siblings to come to him, slightly concerned and immediately wanting to make him feel good.

Meanwhile, your relationship with Aemond, while not resuming the romance of the past, transforms into a serene, enjoyable and respectful one. Aenar's upbringing becomes the main point of building his future and lacking nothing.

Although memories of the painful past persist, both have learned to cope and accept it, in order to move forward.

And eventually, in a significant moment and one that lasted hours of conversation between Aemond and you, also one that was an arduous process of documentation and much waiting, a culmination of a stage of your life is realized that further solidifies the unique connection between Aenar, Aemond and you.

A recognition that brings with it a clear message of commitment and love for the future of your family. The significant moment when Aemond asks for your permission to legally recognize his child and you allow him to do so.

It was not something you had to think about too much, as Aemond has shown you so much and the emotion in his eyes through his tears when you said yes, only further confirmed the fact that you were not making a wrong decision.

And everyone in the family celebrates when Aemond's last name is added to your son's name and he is finally named Aenar Targaryen.

general taglist:

@imaegonstargaryenswife0 @bellstwd @gibbsgirl7 @toodlesxcuddles @imsoshygirl @croatianprincess @gemini-mama @a-little-roony-mara @mysteris-things @zenka69 @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @duds31 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @eternally-passionate @bellaisasleep @ttkttt @aemshaircare @mellowdreamlandpost-blog @noodle81937 @mooncalvin @queenofshinigamis @n4tforlife @vexladin @dixie-elocin @wotcherpeak @watercolorskyy @shiny-trashs-blog @strangersunghoon @elysian0612 @skzenhalove @iloveallmyboys @cakescupcakesminicookies

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x y/n #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen angst #aemond x y/n #modern hotd #modern au #modern aemond

431 notes · View notes

enviedear · 5 months

Text

jackie and wilson — billy bonney

⤷ modern!billy au

tw— somehow this is 4.6k words. mentions of food and eating, talk of religion and bible verses, (i'm southern and was forced to go to church every sunday it reflects in the writing) smutty themes so, minors dni, 18+ only, kissing, fondling, skinny dipping, (they're in their undies) so horrifically fluffy

i can already tell this is going to become an ongoing series, so be sure to comment and lmk if you want more. also, this is influenced by my daily mantra

request

the summer heat feels like it's baking you as you traverse through the long grass of your farmland. birds call and screech in the trees lining the woods beside you. if you weren't so scared of walking the shortcut in the woods alone, your risk of sun poisoning may seem less apparent.

you grip the wicker basket in your hands tighter, eyes squinting to look for the lean farmhand-for-hire. in years past, you've been keen to take his place whenever your grandparents needed someone for an oddball job. working long hours with the older couple up until you graduated from the county high school. as the seasons changed, and you got older and busier, so did your grandparents. their work on their farm proved in dire need of help.

a simple fix—you. this summer, free from university and your internship, your parents elected you to spend the free time of your summer working on your loving grandparents' farm.

in the early days of the warm season, you managed pretty well on your own. you tended the vegetables and the fruits, took care of the chickens and sheep, and sowed the large fields with grain until sunset.

everything changed after an unfortunate incident with your grandpa's gargantuan baler. luckily, you were fine, but your pa's expensive baler was wrecked all to hell.

so here you were, now relegated to some pseudo farmer's daughter role, hand-delivering water and a full lunch to none other than billy bonney.

your grandparents say billy's nice enough, mannerly yet hushed. but you know there's more to it. at least if small town gossip is anything to believe, and here, it usually is.

everyone knows the crowd billy runs around with. he's also got a vile gang of friends. angry men with sly smirks who spend most of their free time loitering the town's local bar or gambling away their lives at lawrence murphy's corral. the type of men to carry a weapon at all times without any license, and quick to threaten to shoot with even the most minor infraction.

the knowledge was enough to have you hiding away from him every time your grandparents hired him for a job.

everytime that is, until now.

you knew with the way your pa sternly stared into your eyes that a complaint wouldn't be warranted. as your grandma instructed you to bring the farmhand some, "hearty lunch for his hard work," you came to terms with the fact that you had no right to argue.

not when you owe the old man a baler.

you finally reach the young man, covered in grime and leaning against his parked pickup, out of breath and sweltering. you try not to stare at the baler attached to the tractor, about twenty feet from his parked vehicle, your embarrassment over wrecking the last one still ever present.

his truck has its' doors wide open, blaring music through blown speakers. you try to avoid making direct eye contact with him, voice raised slightly to be heard over the folk song playing, "here. figure you're hungry."

lifting the tea towel from the top of the basket, you set it on his open truck bed. despite not looking up, you can see him hurry to turn his music down before sauntering over to you from the side of your gaze.

"thank you," his voice surprises you. it's gruff but gentle. "you kin to the old couple?"

you're not sure why, but you take offense to his question. sure you've ignored him, but you know that he knows who you are. you meet his stare, your tone dry in response, "i am."

he inclines his head toward the basket, ignoring your reply with a hum, "what'd ya' bring me, hon?"

your eyes roll unabashed at his endearment, "my grandma threw a bit of everything in there. i know there's some jambalaya— the last bit of our mud cake too."

"you're spoiling me, you tell her i said thank you," he pauses, peering down at you, "are you going to be bringin' me my lunch everyday?"

his question is innocuous but something in the way he says it makes your stomach drop. you shrug, "sure, i guess."

"i'd like that." he slips the words out before his hands dive into the basket, fishing out one of the water bottles.

you nod, confused by him, "yeah well, be careful. i guess i'll see you tomorrow."

at that you turn from him, walking your trail again to get back to the house. you fight the urge to look over your shoulder and catch a glimpse of him. some proof he's really there, that the interaction actually happened.

because despite the second-hand opinion you've held on him, billy bonney was unexpected. annoyingly so.

as you finish up your day, you can't help but think about the encounter with the dark-haired farmhand. you've known of him for years, sure, but you never expected much of him.

just another one of jesse evans’ rowdy boys.

shocking, that billy would be so different. or maybe, just better at hiding his depravity. you think back to his voice, rough around the edges, yet littered with tenderness. it’s not until you think back to his gentle smile that you realize, there’s a kindness that exudes from him, and it’s got you hook, line, and sinker.

you wonder if he's always been this way? you like to think he has. even if it is only a platitude for your undeniable crush.

in the following days, you continue to bring the farmhand his lunch, stopping to talk to him longer each noon. he's easy to talk to, apt to ask you about your day, or if you need anything. you can't exactly explain why, but you're drawn to him.

it's extra muggy as you pack up his lunch and make your way to him, breaking from his time on the baler to lay in the bed of his truck.

he doesn't take notice of you until your basket finds home right beside him, blasted speakers blaring yet another folk tune.

"hey there," he greets you with a grin, his white work shirt wrought with soil, the short sleeves haphazardly rolled, "you know i'm starting t'get used to this."

you smile back, feeling a warm sensation spreading through your body, "i'm sure you are."

billy takes a look in the lunch basket, grabbing out some water first to clear the dirt on his hands, "you wanna hang around for a bit?"

you hesitate for a moment, not sure if you should. not only do you have a long list of chores, you also still find a bit of nervousness around the young man.

but billy's been nice enough, and if he's anything like his friends you assume he would have shown it by now, "i guess i have some time."

billy nods, handing you a water and patting the free space beside him. you hop up, close enough that his side brushes yours.

the sensation sends shivers down your spine as you try to focus on conversation, pulling for anything you can say. for a moment, neither of you speaks, the only sound is coming from the music blasting from his speakers. an old rock song today, different. your eyes try to look anywhere but at him, taking in the vast expanse of farmland around you.

"must be nice to have all this land to yourself," billy says, breaking the silence.

you nod, grateful for his compliment, "it is. my grandparents have worked hard to keep it running."

"i can tell," billy says, taking a swig from his water bottle, "they got a good thing goin' here."

you agree, taking a sip from your own bottle. the sun beats down on your skin, making you feel sweaty and sticky. billy, on the other hand, seems used to it. he looks up at the sky, squinting against the sunlight.

"you know, i was thinking," billy says, steady voice breaking the silence again, "what would you say if i took you out sometime?"

your heart skips a beat, your mind going into overdrive. you never expected billy to ask you out, even more so that you’d be so willing to entertain the idea.

you hesitate for a moment before answering, "i don't know. i mean, i barely know you."

this is a half truth, you know him. only this version though, the sweet billy bonney who works on your family farm and takes his lunch breaks with you. you don't have any idea who he is outside of these moments.

at least not first hand. just second hand gossip. you wouldn’t even know which stories are real or fake. you’re not sure if he’s a convincing actor or genuine soul. there are rumors he shot a man back in his hometown. that he launders money with jesse evans’ gang. that he’s a cheat from a rodeo front, taking ignorant peoples’ bet money.

billy hums, breaking your anxious thoughts, "what'd you wanna know, hon? i'm an open book."

you chew on your lip, thinking about it. it could be a smart move, you're curious about him and need to know more. you need to know what about him is fact or fiction. but at the same time, you're afraid of what the truth may be, "i don't know," you say finally. "i mean, work, for example. is this all you do?"

billy cracks a smile, "no, hon’. this s’more of a side job.” he sighs, “i was a pickup for jesse evans' rodeo for a while, but that new fella' that just came to town—mr. tunstill, he's got me a better gig."

you furrow your brows, already on edge by the mention of his previous employer, "and what exactly is that?"

he chuckles a bit, "he's got me as a producer, but i do show on the weekends."

"so what? you're a full-fledged rodeo man? with bulls and all?" you'd always know of jesse's grimy ‘rodeo’, really just used as a gambling den and club, but you're intrigued by the idea of billy actually doing it. especially working with tunstill, a sincerely kind wealthy man from overseas. it must be a stark contrast to jesse’s.

"i guess. it's a good time and you can make honest money dependin' on the event," he pauses, "it's not like jesse's, if that's what you're wondering."

you look away from him, "my pa never let me go. when i turned twenty-one i tried to go with a bunch of my girlfriends. he about had a stroke keeping me out the door."

"he's smart, you shouldn't go. those guys are bad news." he's talking quieter now, less sugary and more solemn.

you fight your previous embarrassment, opting to stare straight into his pale blues, "you hang around those guys."

your sentiment is clear and billy goes hush for a long few seconds before speaking, eyes closed, "do not carouse with drunkards or feast with gluttons, for they are on their way to poverty, and too much sleep clothes them in rags."

you know those words, heard primarily while crammed in a pew, "you're a religious man?" you don't mean to, but your question comes out a bit unconvinced.

he opens his eyes back up, a spark of something you can't place within them, "no, not really. jus' something mr. tunstill keeps repeating to me. i didn't really pay it any mind till i met you."

you try to ignore the way his hand inches closer to your own, "why's that?"

"not sure. just seems easier to abide by now. i'd hate to end up like them. i know you don't like 'em." his voice is soft, but the hand that takes hold of yours isn't.

you look down at your feebly interlocked hands, hesitating, and then taking his hand with the same conviction, "no, i don't," a breath, "but i like you."

billy's face lights up at your words, and he leans in closer to you. you can feel his breath on your face, and your heart races with excitement and anticipation. you’ve never felt to entrapped in a man before, so ready to dive in head first.

without thinking, you reach out to touch his sun kissed cheek, and he leans into your hand. your fingers trace a path down his cheek, and then down to his lips. you have an overwhelming urge to kiss him, and you're surprised when he pulls back.

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have done that." you say, feeling embarrassed.

"no, it's not that. it's just… i want to take you out on a real date. something proper." his cheeks have grown far more pink, only this time it's not the sun's doing.

you consider his words for a moment, before nodding, "that sounds real nice, billy."

he grins, and you feel a flutter in your chest. how he managed to make you feel this way so soon, you're not sure.

"you free this friday?" he asks, amusement in his tone.

you release his hand, grabbing for your phone, "should be, my boss loves me," a stupid joke, but you hand the touchscreen to him, "put your number in, so we can plan a time."

you climb down from the bed of the truck, peering up at the farmhand as he adds his number to your phone. when he's done he hands you back the phone, the sun casting an auburn glow to his hair.

you look up at him, and he smiles down at you, "don't be a stranger." he jokes.

you give him a laugh, "wouldn’t dream of it," you add, "i'll see you friday— i'm going into town with my grandma tomorrow. i'm sure it'll last all day."

billy hums, "till' friday, honey."

you turn and head back to the house, smiling to yourself, feeling happy and alive in a way that you haven't felt in a long time.

the next day, thursday, you wake up early to accompany your grandma into town. the older woman drags you up and down shopping centre's, moaning on and on about how cheaply things are made now.

you make it through the first ten stores without your smile cracking, you think it must be a finely tuned talent.

it's not until well after lunch the woman decides to slow down, stopping at a local diner to eat. she does most of the talking, gossiping about everyone she's run into today.

you love your grandma and you enjoy your time with her, but you're too focused on tomorrow to really be good company.

if she notices your change in behavior though, she doesn't comment. highly unlike her.

by the time the sky is more dark than light, you two head home. she plays old country music the whole ride, teeny-bopper songs that remind you how young she used to be.

and when you finally lay your head down to rest, you don't try to fight off the supercut in your mind of your sweet farmhand.

the next day, fateful friday, arrives with a mix of nerves and excitement. you find yourself checking the clock more often than usual, the anticipation building as the day progresses. your mind drifts to the possible plans for the evening, wondering where billy might take you on this 'proper date.'

a bit after the sun hits noon, you finish up your chores on the farm, your thoughts consumed by your impending evening. you decide to freshen up and put on something nice, an easy way to get your mind together.

your closet here is less thorough than the one at home, but the innocent tops and bottoms of your late teens still fit. you look less severe than you'd normally for a date. forgone are the dark, tight, and sultry clothes of your college town, leaving you looking ever so sweet.

the early afternoon arrives, and you hear the distant rumble of his pickup as it approaches. you feel alight with a muddled mess of nerves as you make your way out of the house to meet him.

you look over your shoulder when you crack the door open. making sure you haven't awoken your sleeping grandparents, who rarely miss their three o'clock naps.

the summer sun is high in the sky, casting a bright glow over the landscape. billy's leaned up against his truck, staring expectantly at your front porch— staring at you, you realize.

as you walk to him, you can't help but notice the effort he put into dressing up. his filthy work shirt is replaced with a clean, green linen button-down, and there's a hint of ambery cologne in the air. he offers you a genuine smile, eyes lighting up as he takes in your appearance.

"hey there, beautiful." he greets you, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder blade, comforting.

"hi," you reply, returning his saccharine smile. "you clean up nice."

he chuckles, a bit bashful, "well, i figured it's a special occasion."

you let him lead you to the passenger side, where he opens the rusty pickup's door for you, you fight back your grin when he follows in after.

as you drive into town, the atmosphere is a blend of excitement and a tinge of nervousness. billy takes you to a quaint little restaurant a bit outside of town. it's casual but with dim lights and a cozy ambiance. certainly it's the most romantic restaurant around without heading an hour out into the city. the two of you share stories and laughs, finding little to no lull in conversation.

"you want any dessert?" you ask, fiddling a loose thread at the hem of your blouse.

billy shrugs, "i've never said no to some banana puddin'. what'd you say?"

you giggle, nodding in agreement. you feel high off of his company. you're giddy and doing a horrible job at hiding it, but he doesn't seem to mind. instead, he relegates to matching your optimism, only validating every enamored thought of him that rings in your mind.

the warm evening air swirls around you as the two of you exit the restaurant. billy offers his hand, and you gladly intertwine your fingers as you stroll down the sidewalk. the town square is alive with the soft glow of streetlights.

as you walk, the conversation continues, easy and simple. billy talks animatedly about his past few weekends at the rodeo and shares some amusing anecdotes about the other rider’s on the circuit. you, in turn, finally divulge your baler incident, much to his chagrin.

the final hours of afternoon are slowly rolling in, and soon you find yourselves back at his pickup truck. you assume he'll drive you home, but to your surprise, he takes a different route, heading towards the backroads right beside your land. you raise an eyebrow, curious about this unexpected detour.

"where are we going?" you inquire, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

billy smirks but doesn't say anything, keeping the destination a secret. the road is winding and narrow— made of dirt and full of large potholes. you know your little front-wheel drive could never make it. eventually, he slows the car off the path, onto the side of the road.

there's an apparent trail just to the right of you, and when billy opens the door for you, he immediately ushers you toward it, "don't worry, we won't go too far in."

you'd be lying if you said the setting sun wasn't adding a level of unease to the idea of entering the woods, but when you look at billy, eyes bright and smile true, you throw aside your worries.

the young man is true to his word. the trek into the woods only lasts a few minutes before you see it. an azure expanse of water— a secluded lake surrounded by towering oak trees and a backdrop of rolling hills.

you turn back to look at him, shocked, "how did you find this?"

"jus’ by chance a few years ago. i figured you'd been out here before, living so close," he remarks, "but i like that i got to show it to you." billy admits, a devoted glint in his eyes.

as you stand there, gazing at the serene lake, you feel a sense of wonder and gratitude for this unexpected and beautiful surprise. you can't remember the last time the familiar landscape of home felt so awing. billy seems to be taking in your reaction, a quiet satisfaction evident on his face.

"it's breathtaking." you finally say, your voice hushed in appreciation.

billy grins, seemingly pleased with your reaction, "so are you."

you turn back to the water to hide your flustered expression.

you watch him find a comfortable spot by the water's edge, sitting on a large flat rock. you follow suit, letting your head nestle into his chest. the sounds of nature surround you—the rustling leaves, the gentle lapping of the water, and the distant calls of birds. it's a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the town and the farm.

you look up at him as inconspicuously as possible, eager to commit his image to memory. his umber hair curls at the nape of his neck, slender nose burnt from the sun, his freckles apparent, and his ever-inspired blue eyes reflecting the water ahead.

you look away as your heartbeat quickens, afraid that if you peer up any longer he'll be able to hear the rhythm.

"can you swim?" you ask, toes dipping into the waters below.

billy's gaze softens, the radiant hues of his eyes flickering with warmth as he looks down at you. his calloused hand idly tracing circles on your back, comforting, "yeah, i can swim. why? you wanna go for a dip?" he replies, a playful glint dancing across his face.

enthusiastically, you nod, "i'd love to. it's been ages since i've been swimming in a place like this."

with a charismatic grin, billy stands up, extending a hand to help you rise. he doesn't hesitate to unbutton his shirt and free himself from his pants— clothed only in his black boxers.

you try to be as carefree as him, but you're slower to shed your attire. by the time you do, he's already shoulder deep in the water.

you make your way to the water's edge, stepping in. the cool embrace of the lake greets your skin as you wade in. the sun now casts a dim golden glow on the rippling surface.

as you move deeper into the water, you feel a sense of liberty wash over you. you let out a contented sigh, feeling weightless and unburdened. billy is a few feet away from you, beckoning you to come closer with a smile on his face. you oblige, splashing water playfully in your wake.

as you approach him, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close. you can feel the heat emanating from his body, warming you up in the cool water. your bare skin presses against his, and you can feel a hint of longing course through your veins.

"you're s'beautiful," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "prettiest girl i've ever seen."

you chuckle slightly, looking beside him to the water, "you're just blowing smoke up my ass."

his hand finds your cheek, gently beckoning you to face him fully, "why would i ever do that?" he hums, "i only say things i mean, honey."

you blink at him, too far gone to stop your gaping, "you're a charmer, billy bonney. do you hear that a lot?"

he laughs, both hands now coming to rest at your hips, forcing you to wrap your legs around his, "i only need to hear it from you."

he says it so carelessly, without a thought. he's telling the truth, you surmise.

"why? you like me or something?" the words come out genuine, despite your teasing intent.

billy's eyes trail down to your lips, "i like you a whole lot, honey," you feel his grip grow steadier, holding you closer to him. he looks back up at you, gaze tempting, "i like you s'much i worked an extra four days on your farm jus’ to see you."

the revelation hangs in the air, and you find yourself caught in a suspended moment, the water lapping gently around you. billy's admission resonates, sinking deep into the newfound connection you've shared over these past days. his stare, earnest and reserved, locks with yours, and you can't help but feel a swirl of emotions.

a smile plays on your lips, a mixture of surprise and awe, "that's dedication." you reply, a playful sparkle in your eyes.

billy grins, his hands still securely holding you. "only for you, honey. i'm nothin' if not devoted."

you gleam at his words, intrinsically leaning closer to him. you're so close to letting your lips brush his before you stop, eager to see the weight of his affection once more, "you can kiss me now, if that's what you're waiting for."

with that, he presses his lips to yours, kissing you with a hunger that leaves you breathless. you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.

billy breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses and nips along the way. you tilt your head back, giving him better access to your skin, letting out a soft sigh as he finds the sensitive spot on your neck.

"you're gonna be the death o'me." he whispers against your skin, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

your fingers tangle in his hair as he continues his assault on your neck, alternating between gentle kisses and nibbles. you can feel the heat building between your bodies, the water around you providing a cooling effect to your heated embrace.

billy's hands slip down to cup your ass, pulling you closer to him so that there's barely any space between you. he grinds his hips against yours, earning a moan from deep in your throat. you can feel his hardness pressing against you through the thin fabric of his boxers.

your eyes flutter open and you lock gazes with him, the intensity of his gaze mesmerizing. you tilt your head back down, allowing him to steal another kiss. his tongue teases yours. his hands roam up and down your body, exploring every inch of you he can with a passionate fervor.

you can feel yourself being taken into the depths of him until you can barely think or breathe. it's only when he finally pulls away, that you realize the afternoon has fully evolved into the beginnings of nighttime. the sky above you is almost entirely dark, littered with stars.

somehow, you still don’t think the kiss was long enough.

billy smiles at you, brushing his hair away from his eyes. you can't help but smile back, feeling content and happy.

"i think i like you too much." he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your skin. you laugh softly, feeling the same way.

a hum of agreement, "me too." you whisper back, pulling him into a tight hug. you stay like that for a while, enjoying the warmth and comfort of each other's embrace.

as the night deepens, you and billy finally decide to make your way back to the truck. billy helps you out of the water, his touch lingering as you both reluctantly part from the tranquil lake. the air is filled with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, their symphony accompanying your footsteps as you follow the narrow trail back to the pickup truck.

the woods, now cloaked in darkness, take longer to exit. the moonlight filters through the dense canopy of leaves, casting shadows on the forest floor.

once back at the truck, you find yourself wrapped in a cozy blanket billy had thoughtfully brought along. the drive home is filled with a comfortable silence, the events of the evening settling into a cherished memory. the road is dimly lit by the truck's headlights, and the night sky is a canvas of stars above.

as you approach the farmhouse, the thrill of the night lingers between you and billy. he parks the truck, and the engine falls silent. the two of you sit in the quiet for a moment, savoring the experience.

"thank you for tonight, you were real sweet." you say, breaking the silence.

billy turns to you, a peaceful smile playing on his lips. "i should be thanking you, for goin’ out with me. so thank you, darling. i think you're real sweet too."

"i'm real glad we met." you add.

he reaches over, his hand finding yours, fingers intertwining in a comfortable gesture. "me too," he replies, his gaze holding yours.

with a reluctant smile, you open the truck door, preparing to step out. billy, however, stops you with a gentle tug on your hand.

"before you go," he starts, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, "i was wonderin' if you'd like to do this again sometime. maybe i could take you down to the rodeo?"

the question catches you off guard, but the sincerity in his expression is undeniable. you feel a warmth spread through your chest, and you nod, "i'd like that, billy."

he grins, the moonlight casting a soft glow on his features. "good. it's a date then." you agree, leaning up and placing a peck on his pink lips before stepping out of the truck.

it's not until you're safely inside that he drives away into the night, the sound of the engine fading into the distance.

even as you slip into bed, the memories of the night play in your mind like a vivid dream. you drift into sleep with thoughts of the lake, the evening kisses, and the now waivered apprehension of the farmhand.

you've found yourself ensnared with billy bonney.

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

billy taglist— @honey-bees-13 @poppyflower-22 @black-yn @siriuslybeloved @sherlollyliveson18 @cosmicspacewitch @aravenswritingdeskblog @sabrinasbd @cqsmo @coconut-dreamz @preciouspinkyy

₊˚౨ৎ˚₊ to remain on my taglist, make sure to interact :)

#billy the kid #billy bonney #billy the kid x reader #billy bonney x reader #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #tom blyth!billy the kid #tom blyth #billy bonney fluff #billy the kid fluff #i know everyone’s in their coriolanus era but…

534 notes · View notes

auteurdelabre · 6 months

Text

STORY MASTERLISTS!

Something to Fight For (COMPLETE)

For readers 18+ only please!

After a disastrous blind date you decide to stay away from the miserable Joel Miller forever. The only problem is your best friend Maria is dating his brother and their construction company has been hired to renovate where you work. In an effort to support your friend, you’re thrust into the unwanted job of babysitting Joel’s young daughter one night. As time goes on you’re not expecting to find a confidant in Joel Miller but when you do, you wonder how you ever survived without him.AU LOU universe with no outbreak. A slow burn slice of life love story with smut.

Please, Mister Miller? (COMPLETE)

for 18+ readers only!

Summary: After being dumped by your longtime college bf, your roommate Sarah Miller invites you to her hometown for the holidays. There you meet her dad and decide you need to know if he’s as good in bed as he looks. (General warnings: Infidelity and unprotected p in v)

Code Broken (COMPLETE)

for 18+ readers only!

"You broke into my house," Joel says moving his gaze from your eyes back down to your mouth as his wide hand grazes his belt buckle. "Moved my shit around. Least you could do is be polite."You only wanted to pull a silly prank on your neighbor, Joel. Who could have seen it ending up like this? [AU where Joel Miller ends up in Jackson City by himself.]

Dare to Surrender (COMPLETE)

for 18+ readers only!

You can’t stand Javier Pena but when Steve Murphy makes an off-hand remark that gets both you and Javier’s competitive sides going, there’s no telling how far you’ll go.

So Much to Lose - ONGOING

For readers 18+ only please!

summary:

Newly settled into Jackson city and forced to go on patrols with the miserable Joel Miller sets off a chain of events and encounters that have you questioning everything, including your own heart. note: Featuring Dark!Joel

SLEEP (COMPLETE)

When you meet Joel Miller beside his blue truck one hot, sweltering day you're not expecting a bloody adventure to await you.

Part 1 / Part 2

A Little Sun (IN PROGRESS)

for 18+ readers only!

As a PA to megastar and mega man-child Dieter Bravo you've had your fair share of headaches. Getting accidentally pregnant with his baby however takes the cake, especially when he offers to pay you to be his surrogate. You just weren't expecting to fall in love with him along the way. (plot prompt inspired by 'Daddy Dieter' by @absurdthirst on Ao3 - read their story, its really wonderful!)

THE BLACKMAILING BABYSITTER CHRONICLES (ONGOING)

You're a babysitter to many of the families in your small town. When the father of one of your charges makes a move you see an opportunity to make enough cash to leave after college graduation.

- Chapter one - Mr. York -

- Chapter two - The Plan is Made -

- Chapter three - Mr. Morales -

- Chapter four - Mr. Miller -

- Chapter five - Mr. Martell -

- Chapter six - Mom's boyfriend -

- Chapter seven - The Finale -

BRAVO! TAKE A BOW Series - ONGOING

Summary: As a struggling actress you’re amazed when you land a role in an indie film you’re dying to be a part of. What you’re not expecting is to develop feelings for your mega famous and often exasperating co-star Dieter Bravo rated 18+

1- Audition

2- Chemistry Read

3- Table Read

4- Rehearsals

5- Lights, Camera, Action!

WINDOW DRESSING - (ONGOING)

Rated 18+

Resolving to achieve professional success within the CIA you embark on a ruthless game of one-upmanship against your work nemesis Dave York, a rivalry that is complicated by your growing attraction to him. [loosely based on The Hating Game] (AU universe - Dave is divorced and still working for CIA)

Chapter 1: Codebook - COMING FEB 14th

Chapter 2: Black Bag Job

Chapter 3: Clandestine Operation

Chapter 4: False Flag

Chapter 5: Raven

Chapter 6: Burned

Chapter 7: Compromised

Chapter 8: Window Dressing

Someone to pass the time with -(ONGOING)

rated: 18+

Feeling guilty about so often being out of town on business you encourage your loving boyfriend to find someone to pass the time with. When he does, you're not expecting for things to get so out of hand. Pairings: Reader x Javi G x Dave York

Part 1 - It's a He

Part 2 -For you, Javi

Part 3 - Meeting Dave

Losing our Minds Together - ONGOING

For readers 18+ only please!

summary:

As an artist by trade it's only natural that you'd agree to give your young neighbor Ellie drawing lessons. You just weren't counting on her stoic father Joel Miller getting under your skin... or becoming your muse. [AU LOU universe with no outbreak. A slow burn slice of life love story with smut, romance and more.]

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Please, Mister Miller?; THE SEQUEL ONGOING

for 18+ readers only!

After a Christmas holiday you won't soon forget, you find yourself unable to move past your time with Joel Miller, your best friends married dad and the man you think you may just be in love with.

Phone Calls with Mister Miller

Dinner with Mister Miller

Talking with Mister Miller

Spring Break with Mister Miller

Long Distance with Mister Miller

Graduation with Mister Miller

Texas with Mister Miller

THOSE WHO CANNOT DO

Summary: Frankie and Santiago have been through a lot during their friendship and have always come out the other side. But when both of them fall for the pretty new schoolteacher (YOU), it pushes them both to their breaking point. for 18+ readers only! pairings: Frankie x f!Reader / Santiagoxf!Reader

Chapter one: Acceleration

Chapter two - coming soon

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter Seven

Chapter eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter ten

Daddy Morales - (COMPLETE)

for 18+ Readers only!

Summary: A distraught Frankie drives you home after babysitting. You cheer him up.... and then you keep cheering him up all over town. [General warnings: Infidelity and Daddy kink]

Part 1 - Drive Home

Part 2 - Pit Stop

Part 3 - No More

Part 4 - Too Late

Part 5 - The BBQ

PALPATION (rated 18+)

Part 2

Part 3

AS LONG AS YOU WANT (PG-13)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 - finale coming May 2024

ONE SHOTS

A Secret Kind of Pain [Frankie Morales x f!reader] (rated 18+)

Poker night over at Benny’s tests the amazing burgeoning relationship you have been hiding with Frankie Morales.

Say, Thank You. [Dave York x F!Reader] (Rated 18+)

After driving you home from babysitting his kids, Dave York has a proposition for you that you just can’t refuse.

Joel's Eyes (rated 18+)

based on the prompt by ashleyfilm: I don’t know if you take requests but I love your writing and I’m dying for a slow burn in post outbreak Jackson. Joel and fem reader strangers to friends to eventual lovers. Reader is in love with Joel from the beginning and is like him strong silent type but with a heart of gold. Lots of pinning and then a surprise when it turns out Joel pines for her too and Tommy and Ellie know that he loves her. Maybe some jealousy thrown in before soft dom Joel to sub reader smut. Then a snippet of them together after confession of love so you can hear what other towns folk think about them. Anyway, if you don’t take asks that’s totally cool and I look forward to reading whatever you write! :)

PALPATION (18+)

You need a massage and thankfully a new place opened up a few blocks away… There you’re introduced to the deliciously professional RMTJoel!Miller. He makes you feel good… maybe too good? (AU - NO OUTBREAK)

FALLING IN LOVE SERIES

How I imagine these characters fall in love. Rated: G

Joel Miller

Javier Peña

1K notes · View notes

weixuldo · 6 months

Text

Missed me?

Sub!Anakin x Reader

a/n: Helloo!!! i apologize once again for going awol- but here is a small horny drabble i wrote for no reason hahah I hope u enjoy- ik it’s not my usual content, but i wanted to branch from my series for a moment- hope u enjoy!!

Anakin takes his role as a general very seriously, but sometimes he gets tired of giving orders and just needs to follow them

warnings: cursing, pwp, smut, overstim, masturbation (M!), gn reader, degredation(male receiving), shaming, handjob

_____________________

The council gathered to discuss the next steps the Jedi would take in their involvement in the clone wars; the meeting had gone on for hours- the masters couldn’t seem to agree.

Anakin grew impatient as he sat and listened to the elders bickering over politics; sure he was a general, but he was used to action. Getting things done. Not sitting in a stuffy room creating hypothetical scenarios.

He needed this meeting to be over.

As he leaned back in the chair provided to him (not a seat among the ranked masters) he found his mind wandering. The last battle was long and near the end, it became more so one of attrition rather than power. He had been gone for months and was exhausted. His orders were to return home for a brief period until the council could decide the best course of action- so he thought that meant he would be going directly home…to you.

He was under the impression he was to return to his home on Coruscant to recollect himself before discussing further matters with the council.

In preparation for his return to you, he had shamelessly been edging himself- so long in the tense heat of battle gave him little time to relieve stress.

In a way he took the build up as something to look forward to when he could finally return- something special he could share with you- that would be the most rewarding feeling.

He hadn’t seen you in so long, he hadn’t felt you in so long…hadn't tasted you in so long.

Months away had taken its toll on him in more ways than one; he felt himself becoming more irritable and having a shorter temper than the already short one he was known to have. His fists clenched under his jedi robes as he itched to run home.

He sat with his usual scowl on his shapely face as the others continued to talk.

“Isn’t that right, General Skywlker?” Master Windu asked.

His scarred eye twitched before he was snapped from his thoughts, “Ah, yes- our enemies are becoming weaker as they continue on”.

Master Windu nodded at Anakin in thanks and continued his point. A few other members took Anakin’s statement into consideration.

Little did they know he was hardly listening to them, instead he was trying to keep his pulsing erection hidden from his superiors. He was gripping onto his chair in fear that if he shifted a certain way he wouldn’t be able to subdue the moan building in the back of his throat.

Maker… he needed you.

When he was first deployed he was able to subdue his unnaturally high libido but as the time went on and tensions of the war grew, he needed some relief.

The Jedi would retreat to his tent and grab one of the military-issued rolled-up blankets and toss it onto his cot; after tying it tighter with his belt- it was ready.

He needed something other than his own fist to help him out and at least he could grip around the blanket as if he were gripping onto you.

The first few times he did this he was embarrassed- but he always kind of liked the shame. The famous General Skywalker desperately fucking himself into his blanket in the middle of the night… how pathetic.

He couldn't wait for you to scold him for being such a horny and desperate excuse of a jedi…

He wanted to hear it all.

Oftentimes he would thrust in and out of the bundle so vigorously that he would almost always collapse onto his cot from exhaustion afterwards. He just needed to get all of his cum out… he just had too much.

There were nights where he couldn’t help but moan and pant your pretty name as he bucked his hips into the makeshift pussy

“Meeting adjourned”.

Anakin blinkled himself back to reality and rushed out of the temple with great urgency. His master eyed his eagerness and simply shook his head.

Of course Obi Wan knew about you- he had known Anakin since he was a boy; he could read him like a book.

Also he had heard Anakin practically howling your name in his tent during his nightly walks more times than he would have liked.

But you were good for Anakin, plus Obi-Wan thought highly of you, so he kept his mouth shut.

You were also the only one who could put Anakin in his place.

__________________________________

You sat on the balcony of your large penthouse as you waited for your lover to arrive; Anakin sent you a message yesterday telling you he would be home today, but much to your chagrin the day had almost passed. You were getting a little worried.

Of course, being with a Jedi, you were well aware contact wouldn’t always be available- you had to keep your relationship a secret after all- but it didn’t help your anxiety.

You were about to head back to your room when you heard quick footsteps in the hallway outside of your apartment- could it be?

Before you knew it your door slid open at lightning speed and behind it was a panting Anakin. You took a moment to enjoy the beautiful scene in front of you; Anakin’s hand still outstretched form forcing the door open, his sandy locks windswept (from the speed at which he ran to you, no doubt), and a glint of desperation is his blue eyes.

Perfection.

Finally you gave in to the magnetic force pulling you to your lover and ran towards him with open arms.

“Ani!” you gasped as he met you halfway, engulfing you in a tight embrace.

Your senses filled with his force signature as you buried your face into his neck. His strong hands gripped at your back and he breathed in your sweet scent.

“It’s been too long, Angel,” he sighed into you.

“Too long” you agreed, starting to kiss up his neck.

His body shivered and a small moan escaped his plump lips.

“Fuck baby…” he groaned as he pawed at your ass through your night-robes.

You grabbed his face and pressed your lips into his; the kiss was full of passion and lust. He could barely stop his tongue from exploring your mouth- he just needed you so badly.

“Someone’s impatient” you smirked against his lips.

“You have no idea” he growled as he lifted you up to wrap your legs around his waist.

The way he held you, had your core right next to his bulging erection. He panted as you wiggled your hips against him.

“Lets go to the bedroom” you instructed and he nodded without hesitation.

Once inside you pushed yourself off of him and he backed up with a sad look in his eyes.

“Don’t worry pretty boy, I’ll give you what you want- but first I need to see how badly you really need it” your voice had a lilt of mischief to it.

“Anything- anything for you” he mewed as he began to take the glove around his mechanical hand off.

“On your knees” you demanded. You needed to see just how willing he was.

Without another word the powerful Jedi sunk to his knees and tilted his head up to meet your face. “I need you”.

The desperation in his voice made your spine tingle- he was so deprived. That only made you want to play with him even more.

“Are you sure? You don’t seem like you need my help much- you’re holding yourself together just fine- I might as well just leave the roo-”

“NO!” he exclaimed loudly, reaching for you.

After he realized he raised his voice too loud, he lowered his head, “please don’t go” he whispered.

“What was that baby?” you cooed.

“Please, don’t go- I can’t- I need you” he practically whined.

“Need me to what?” you tormented.

“I need you to touch me- I need you to help me cum” he said ashamedly.

You clicked your tongue and strode towards the man in front of you, “Alright, but you have to ask nicely alright?”.

He nodded vigorously, “Please, Please, I’ll do whatever you ask”.

You smiled and began to undo his robes. Slowly, you removed each strip of fabric from his tired body, every brush making him shiver. A new collection of scars and scrapes has accumulated on his sculpted torso- a beautiful sight. Soon all that was left was his pants, a painfully hard bulge obviously present.

“My poor pretty boy had no one to help him out huh?” you said, slowly pulling his waistband down with your fingers.

He shook his head, “no, no I didn’t”.

You freed his aching member from the constraints of his pants and he moaned as it slapped against his stomach. Anakin was truly a sight to behold; standing at 8.5 inches, a prominent vein running up his left side, his blushing red tip already leaking with precum.

Maker.

You bit your lower lip in anticipation- it took all of your willpower not to take him into your mouth then and there… but you needed to play with him some more- it would make the release all the much better.

You wrapped your fingers around him; he was hot to the touch and pulsating. He groaned and tossed his head back. With a smirk you pumped his length a few times before he began to move his hips with the up and down motion of your hand.

Once you could tell he was lost in the feeling, you removed your hand and his eyes shot open with desperation; he practically whimpered for you to continue.

“Are you sure you’ve been a good boy? I think you haven’t waited for me” you scolded.

You didn’t care if Anakin jerked off or not, but it was very enticing to berate him for doing so when it got such a visceral reaction from him.

“I-I tried not to, I really did, but wit-” he stuttered, dick still twitching.

You put on a fake displeased look and got up to take a seat in the chair adjacent to your shared bed; leaving a disheveled and agonizingly horny Anakin with a look of confusion.

“Go ahead.” you ordered.

He fixed his posture and sat on his knees once more on the plush bed, “I don’t understand-”.

“If you like the company of your own hand so much, go ahead and pleasure yourself” you said, crossing your legs.

He gave you a defeated look, “Angel, please”.

“I’m waiting.”

He huffed out a few curses under his breath before he brought his remaining human hand to his mouth and spit. This was humiliating- he was so exposed (but there was a certain allure to that).

He would never admit to anyone but you, but something about being belittled and degraded resonated with a deep part of him. All his life he had been taking orders, it was his nature by now.

“Show me how you did it while you were away, I know you needed to use something other than your hand”

The judgment in your sultry voice made his cock pulsate, Maker he loved your sweet degradations.

He grabbed a blanket and his utility belt to form a model of what he had been shooting his load into for the past few months. He mounted the bundle and began to thrust himself in and out, moans building at every snap of his hips.

Your eye twitched as you watched the scene infront of you- he was so desperate for you that he had been fucking his own bedding in wait to return to you.

Anakin was lost in the familiar pleasure of the plush blanket around himself, but the fact that he could feel you in the room was throwing him off- how could this be enough to make him cum when he could feel your presence right there.

Why would he waste his high on this when he could have you instead?

Between thrusts he managed his deep blue eyes open to see you had moved from your chair to his side. He gasped at the sensation of your cold hand on the base of his neck. You dragged your nails down his back and basked in the melodious noises he made.

You grabbed a fistful of his sandy locks and pulled his face back to look at you

“Do you even hear yourself right now Anakin, you’re moaning like a bitch in heat.”

Yes. more.

“If only those so frightened of you knew what a submissive little slut you really are; how does your battalion even take you seriously?” you taunted, standing behind him to wrap your arms around his waist.

“Fuck” he sputtered out… don’t stop.

At this point he was violently bucking his hips into the blanket, messy hair falling into his eyes, chest heaving with each snap.

“Do you want me to touch you, baby?” you whispered into his ear.

His whole body quivered at the feeling of your breath against him.

“Y-yes”

“How much do you want me t-”

“I need you! I can’t- I- Fuck!” he whined.

He was close- just a little more

The smile on your face widened and you kissed his temple before slipping your hand down his v line and finally grasping his dick- he gasped at the pressure and the coolness of your hand against his hot skin.

He leaned his head back against your shoulder as you worked on him. The overstimulation was insane- he whole body shuddered with each stroke of your hand.

“You’re so pathetic Anankin, does anyone actually respect you? Look at yourself” you taunted as you squeezed the tip of his pulsing cock garnering beads of milky precum.

He pried one of his eyes open to see the sweaty mess between his legs, precum coated his thighs, his dick, and your hands. Maker.

So close.

You took your other hand to grab around his neck, “cum for me like the good slut you are”.

There it was.

Anakin exploded in your grasp, milky cum erupted from his overworked tip. His moans rang through the walls of your bedroom and his whole body spasmed with each wave of his high. He wasn’t sure of anything in that moment except for the pleasure that filled his body.

“F-fuck fuck” he stuttered, grabbing onto your with his mechanical arm; cold metal clawing at you flesh.

His cock finally settled down, only a few twitches here and there. The scene in front of him was his ruined sheets and ropes of white.

He leaned against you as he caught his breath.

“That’s my good boy” you praised, brushing his sweaty locks from his forehead.

He whimpered at your words because his aching cock responded to your praise.

“It looks like you want more; would I be correct, or are you too tired to continue?” you smirked.

He opened his eyes and weakly propped himself up, “m-more, I can do more- need to please you” he insisted.

“please me then Ani” you cooed into his ear, running your hands up his chest.

“please me with your mouth, please me with your cock…” you trailed off before he closed his eyes once more.

And with what seemed to be a flip of a switch, he grabbed you with his strong hands and flipped you onto your back.

“I’ll show you how much of a good boy I can be”

***

(a/n: ik this was mainly just a handjob lol- but i feel like doing a whole smex scene would been too long- but lmk how u felt abt subby ani!!!)

698 notes · View notes

walpu · 1 month

Note

Hi, it’s me again!! >_<

When I tell you I gobbled that headcannon post up, I went down on two knees and howled /hj

Anyways, do you think you can do some headcannons on Aventurine with Bodyguard! Reader if you have the time? But this time, with a twist :3

See, reader does care for Aven, you truly do, but before that, you were tasked by Everflame mansion and by Duke inferno himself to kill Aventurine. But you can’t bring yourself to, no, not when you’ve fallen head over heels for him.

When reader does become Aven’s bodyguard, you maintain that serious, no nonsense demeanor, but if he looks closely enough, he’ll see the lovestruck puppy hiding under the hardened shell that they’ve put on.

But the guilt catches up. One day, at least a few months after reader’s betrayal to Duke Inferno, you catch sight of an assassin sent to finish the job they couldn’t do. And so, the secret is finally revealed.

Personally, I think Aventurine would be betrayed, like very, how could he not be? He’s always kept people at an arm’s length away, and when he finally lets you in his walls, and starts falling for thier charm, this secret of yours comes out. He fires you almost immediately, but the way he stares after you with misty eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.

The next months were absolute hell. Reader found a new job as a barista, and is quite enjoying the quaint and simply life it provides, even if you do miss Aventuirne. He’s probably still seething at you, right?.

Wrong. Because you’ve gone MIA, Aventurine been scouring all over the place, trying so hard to find you. He’s loosing sleep, forgetting to eat, all things that you would chide him about. Aeons, he misses you so much.

And when he does find you, he’s overjoyed, and when the two finally reunite, the first thing you do is to apologize deceiving him. But he forgave your silly ass a long time ago, why else would he have spent the last months trying to find you?

Long story short, it’s a happy ending, Aventurine couldn’t be more grateful he has you to be his bodyguard, his closest confidant, and most importantly, his lover <33

I’m so sorry if I went on a ramble, but this idea’s been plaguing me so bad I literally can’t focus on anything else 😭😭

I'VE BEEN LOOKING FORWAR TO WRITIG FOR THIS REQUEST SINCE THE MOMENT I SAW IT I ADORE YOUR BODYGUARD!READER x AVEN SERIES btw thank you for sharing the c.ai bot

I feel like the only thing I do with each post is apologize for taking so long but right now I like from work trip to work trip so I'm actually really really sorry this madness should end soon 😭😭😭😭 Hope you'll enjoy this post, it was my goal to finish it before version 2.1

bodyguard/assassin!reader x Aventurine

characters - Aventurine notes- gn!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, pining, no beta

It was not a fast prosses for the both of to form a genuine connection. Moreover, you know goddamn well you shouldn't get attached to him.

And at first it seems easy, like yeah another rich playboy, no big deal, you've delt with people like him before, right? Right??????????????

Yeah until suddenly he's not just a rich playboy.

The more you notice how deeply lonely and unhappy he is, the more your heart softens towards him. And the more your heart softens, the more he relaxes around you, seeing behind your cold exterior.

He's not used to people caring about him. And yes, of course he knows it's your job but still, for a man who never had a real friend before, he surely can appreciate having someone who not only won't leave him but also will listen to him and look after him.

And the part about you being paid to do it? Oh well. It's the same guy who offers you to use him as you wish and who's greeting line is "I can play a role of a friend :)"

Mf is FRIENDLESS, LONELY and PATHETIC /affectionally

He'll take what he can get okay.

But goddamn. Don't think he doesn't notice how you started going out of your ways to take care of him. How you make him eat, tend to his small injuries ("my, my, you're my bodyguard, not a doctor. perhaps someone wants a raise, hm?~"), how you drag him out of casino or his office when it's too late.

It drives him crazy. It's not beneficial for you, right? The w h y.

He won't ask. Instead he will watch and slowly fold.

You are probably suffering tho lol. You should just kill him already, you've had so many opportunities to end him. Instead you spoon feed him soup because he claims he has a hangover after a night in the casino. And this little brat looks so smug about it too!!!!

Sometimes he feels like it's too good to be true: you being here, taking care of him, looking after him. The line between professional relationship, friendship and... something more is way too blurry already, and he knows it's dangerous but it just feels so good. Too good.

Duke inferno gets tired eventually. He sends someone to remind you of your mission. To remind you who you really work for.

Well, the duke receives a warning of his own. The dead body of his little messenger.

You know, of course, that the Everflame mansion thugs are not easily intimidated. They will be back. So you better warn Aventurine and tell him everything.

You can't keep lying to him, can you?

Well. It's surprisingly not as easy as you thought. After all, even if they will send someone, you'll just protect Aven like you always do, right? He doesn't have to know. Not about your past, not about your original mission. He keeps his secrets too, so why can't you?

You know goddamn well why tho. You know and yet you still can't bring yourself to tell him the truth.

It goes on like that for several months and Aventurine notices that something is clearly off, something is bothering his darling protector. He tries to pry, to tease, to cling, to pester you. Something to make you open up. Or, at least, get distracted. He can't help but feel anxious. Why are you suddenly so reversed? Do you want to leave his side? Does he not pay you enough? Does he bother you too much? It eats him alive while he tries to mask it by pestering you even more. As if to test you. As if to make sure that it's not the case.

All the hell breaks loose one day when you discover that Duke inferno has sent another assassin to finish the job.

I you spare the details but yeah, your secret was unraveled. And it wasn't pretty at all.

You have never seen emotions so vivid on Aven's face. Part of you always wanted to see him more vulnerable, more open with you. But not like this. Not this look of utter betrayal.

He collects himself quick enough, hiding behind the mask of mock disappointment.

"Hm, well, I recall mentioning that treachery is just another tool of the trade. But it seems like our little deal is not paying off for me anymore" he says with a cold chuckle, shaking his head a little. "After all, you have very little to offer outside of your dog-like loyalty. But seems like this dog bit both hands that fed it".

You were expecting him to call for your arrest but instead he just fires you. It hurts nevertheless.

What hurts even more is that look he gives you when you part ways. It's like his pretty eyes are even more lifeless now.

At first he feels this overwhelming emptiness. It truly feels like the fate is mocking him. One time, just one time, he allowed himself to relax around someone. Just this one time, with this one person who took care of him, who listened to him, who looked out for him. And this person was supposed to kill him.

Then his stupid brain finds another way to torture him. He keeps thinking about the way you have always protected him, the way you took the hit even during the last attack, when Duke Inferno's new assassin tried to get to him. You were ready to leave your past life behind to stay by his side, weren't you?

As soon as he realizes it he goes frantic. Of course he tries to find you asap but of course someone as competent as you would be able to disappear without a trace in no time. You were an assassin, after all. A skilled one too, since he never even suspected you.

This connection the two of you had, this realization that you really cared enough to betray your client, all of this makes him realize that he needs you so, so much. He needs to feel this care again, he need to look at you again, to know that you're here by his side.

He misses you so much. Your nagging, your reassurance, your touch. He's like an addict who felt what it feels like to love and beloved in return for the first time and now he can't live without it.

He doesn't eat or sleep properly, his head plagued by the thoughts about you. What if you forgot all about him? What if you're wounded? Where are you even? His fingers itch to trace your face and your scars.

He thinks about how you would scold him for not taking proper care of himself and it makes him miss you even more.

Aven finds you after a few months. It was honestly a coincidence, one of his subordinates saw you in the coffee shop you were working at.

He though that finding you will calm him down but seeing you from afar, looking somewhat peaceful and cozy, having a regular job... it's too much. And what if you really don't need him anymore? Maybe you never did? After all, he's painfully aware that he probably needs you much more than you need him.

And yet, he decides to take this risk. He's a gambler, after all.

"Somehow I'm not surprised you're good even at that. How come you have never made me coffee before, hm?"

You literally freeze on the spot after hearing this familiar voice next to you.

When you finally get to talk, you can see he's really trying to look calm and collected but how can he? His hands are shaky and his voice cracks. It breaks your heart.

He doesn't even let you finish your apology, pressing a finger to your lips.

"Hush, darling. All is forgiven. In fact, I even have an interesting proposal. I'm can be a generous man after all".

He can't fool you. Not with this shaky soft voice. And he knows it as well.

Please hug that fool and kiss him. Swear that you won't ever leave him again. Swear that you want to be by his side. As his bodyguard, as his friend, as something more. So much more. That's all he really need to feel like he's at home.

#if the ending feel abrupt i'm sorry tumblr said i'm writing too much #i had to cut it short #thank you so much for this request!!!#and fuск this app for making me cut my words it's not my fault i'm graphomaniac #hsr #honkai star rail #walp's writing #aventurine #hsr aventurine #reader insert #aventurine x reader

348 notes · View notes

dysfunctional-doodle · 3 months

Note

Raph finds Mikey annoying but if you hurt Mikey he will kill ya lol

Exactly. Mikey is annoying but he couldn’t live without him.

Something I really like about 2003 was the subtle hints throughout the show illustrating how much Mikey means to Raph. It is never said out loud, but watching the series again made me see details that I had missed, some more obvious than others.

First off, that moment in attack of the mousers where Raph, cornered by mousers, is oddly sincere when Mikey makes a joke to try and ease the tension of them potentially getting killed:

“This is it, it’s been fun guys!”

“Even me, Raph?”

“Even you Mikey - especially you.”

Mikey’s tone is light, half joking but Raph responds in complete sincerity (at least that’s how I interpreted it lol). The show had already begun showing that Raph has a fondness for Mikey different from his other brothers. I was pondering as to why, and I think I have a reason.

Mikey, I think, is his best friend (at least before Casey). At the very least, he’s someone that he can always goof around with, always willing to do whatever reckless shit he’s doing. Mikey is annoying, but Raph teases him for it, which I turn releases any pent up stress he has. Mikey is just as reckless and rough as he is, and Raph knows this. He knows how much Mikey means to him, even if Mikey doesn’t.

Another major example I can think of is in Back to the Sewers, when all the brothers get mind controlled by a virus and believe they are a part of The Foot Clan. To break the control, a strong memory of emotion/love (it wasn’t too clear, just a fond/treasured memory for them) needed to be remembered. Whilst the other brothers remembered their childhood with Splinter as the final memory, Raph was much harder to fix.

When he did remember, however, it wasn’t a memory of Solinyer that broke the control - it was a memory of Mikey. It seems really small. Just a memory of Raph dunking Mikey’s head into his cake on his birthday, but this kinda solidifies the theory for me.

Raph loves Mikey because of that annoying, playful streak he has in him that fits his own personality so well. His best memory seemed insignificant, but I think it’s actually the opposite. Him being able to be much more irresponsible and youthful only happens with Mikey around because Mikey brings that out of him. Honestly, with what Mikey said about their roles in the family in season 4, it wouldn’t surprise me if Mikey was fully aware of this fact and is why he doesn’t mind being teased by him.

TLDR: Mikey is annoying but in the best way for Raph. You mess with Mikey, you deal with Raph

#tmnt #tmnt asks #tmnt hc #tmnt mikey #tmnt raph #tmnt 2003 #sunset duo #wow this was a long ramble for a funny ask #my bad holy shit #i just really like their dynamic in 2003 okay #i am going to write a fic just about them very very soon I swear

259 notes · View notes

works-of-fanfiction · 8 months

Text

The Love of Another - Part Two || Cillian Murphy x actress!Reader

< Previous

Summary: After meeting on the set of Peaky Blinders, Cillian and Y/N struggle to keep their relationship professional.

Warnings: Swearing, cheating, angst. Some (pretty cringe) fluff at the end.

Word Count: 5.7k

a/n: thank you so much for the lovely feedback on the first part of this! I haven’t written anything multi-part in literal years, but this was fun. some chunky sections of dialogue here, hopefully easy to follow! enjoy x

(Paul is Paul Anderson and Sophie is Sophie Rundle (if that wasn’t obvious already). Y/N’s character in the show is not canon/replacing any of the actresses, just feel free to use your imagination and slot her in somewhere! it is yourself after all.)

“Would you rather have Tommy teach you to ride a horse, or Arthur teach you to box?” The interviewer asked, smiling at the actress in front of her. Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek, tapping her knee as she thought about her answer. “That’s a hard one, because both could end up with me on the floor!” She joked, looking past the camera at the crew who were essentially getting paid to laugh at anything she said. “I have to go with Tommy on this one. It’s probably the least dangerous! Plus, who doesn’t love watching Cillian ride those horses?” The two women laughed together before swiftly moving onto the more serious questions about Y/N’s debut in the series. “I’d have gone with Arthur.” Y/N’s husband sneered, lowering the volume on the TV. Behind him she was sat at the table, re-reading the new scripts she’d been sent and familiarising herself with the lines.

“They pay me to say stuff like that, you know.” She declared casually, not bothering to look up from the page. He turned around and watched as she scribbled down some notes, mouthing words to herself quietly.

“They pay you to brown-nose Cillian?” He scoffed, leaning on the back cushion. Dropping her pencil with a sigh, she finally looked up with raised brows.

“Yes. Just like I got paid to brown-nose every other man I’ve worked with.” She quipped sarcastically, rolling her eyes, and twirling the pencil between her fingers. She waited for him to respond, but the snarky comeback never came. A smart choice on his part.

Despite her only having met Cillian once, her husband still had this bizarre idea that they’d spent every waking moment together during filming. Y/N had become too exhausted to argue about it. Her career and her future in Peaky Blinders was a lot more important than her husband’s petty jealousy, and she certainly wasn’t going to throw away the role of a lifetime because of him.

“Y/N… Your line.” The prompter called, waving the script in the air and tapping the page with her pen.

“Oh, sorry. Can we go from the top?” Y/N asked nervously, looking around at the crew that were becoming increasingly impatient. What was supposed to be a quick and simple scene was turning into an hour of do-overs with Y/N forgetting small details on every take. “I’m really sorry everyone.” She addressed the room, some mumbling back, others just rolling their eyes and whispering among themselves.

Stepping forward off his mark, Cillian turned to the director. “I think we can pick this up next week. Don’t you?” He asked quietly, eyes flitting to Y/N and back again. “Long day…”

“Alright. We’ll set up for this scene first thing Monday morning, but I want it finished and perfect by lunchtime.” He spun in his chair, ordering everyone to go home and rest up on their rare weekend off.

Sighing, Y/N tugged at her hair, freeing it from the clips holding it tightly in place. Paul patted her shoulder sympathetically before leaving set, shaking Cillian’s hand on the way out. Cillian sat down beside her quietly, waiting for everyone else to filter out. Once the room was empty, he scooted closer, slipping his hand in hers beneath the table. “I had it, Cill, I had it.”

“I know.” He soothed, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. “I did it for my sake, not yours. This suit is itching.” He joked lightly, pulling at his collar. Looking up, she felt a smile creeping onto her face. There he was, being cheesy, always trying to cheer her up.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“I think the guest in your trailer might have something to do with it.”

Nodding, she looked down at their hands, at Cillian’s gentle fingers dancing along her veins. She thought about her husband; how he’d travelled all this way and spent the entire afternoon waiting for her. Yet here she was, comfortable in the arms of another man, betraying him for the thousandth time.

Cillian could see the cogs turning in her head. Forgetting to blink, she stared down at the tabletop, studying the cracks in the brown paint. He squeezed her hand softly, reminding her he was still there. “What are you thinking?” He whispered.

“I have to tell him, don’t I?” She asked, not really seeking an answer. For months she’d tried to plan a way to tell him, to come out with the truth and end her marriage for good, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. It wasn’t something she could do over the phone, but she also couldn’t bear to see him in person. She continued to pretend everything was OK, smiling through their FaceTime calls and sending love hearts whenever she couldn’t answer. ‘Couldn’t’ meaning when she was with Cillian.

“I don’t know how I’m going to do it, or when, or where, but I know I have to. I mean, it’s been a year already, and I think I just lost track of time but then – “

“Hey, hey.” Cillian grabbed her face gently, putting a pause to her rambling. “You don’t need to go making any grand declarations today.”

“If I leave it any longer, it’ll just make it worse.”

Y/N seemed to stare straight through him, her jaw tensing beneath his fingers. Part of him wished he could fix it for her, that he could go to her husband himself and tell him the truth to save her the burden. He feared how her husband could react, knowing he had a habit of getting jealous and suspicious whenever she got too friendly with a man. He knew he could handle it but wasn’t sure she’d be able to.

“Y/N!” A voice shouted from the entrance; it was Sophie, looking for her so she could drag her to her birthday night out. The pair separated, Cillian standing awkwardly. “There you are. Come with me, I’ve found the perfect dress for you to wear tonight!”

“I’ll leave you ladies to it.” He smiled, giving Y/N one last reassuring smile before leaving the building. The last thing Y/N wanted to do was go out, but she didn’t want the crew hating her even more after her earlier fiasco, so she dragged herself to the wardrobe department and let Sophie show her the dresses they were going to ‘borrow’ for the evening.

“A vision in red! Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Paul beamed, hugging Y/N tight as she joined the group, her husband in tow. Paul made the effort to greet him - the man lucky enough to steal Y/N’s heart - as he put it. She laughed along, the pang of guilt inside her chest doubling in size. He may’ve had occupancy of her heart once upon a time, but that space had since been filled by someone else, and that someone was currently sat in the corner looking as handsome as ever. Cillian raised his glass to her, smiling, his arm flexing in his t-shirt. She nodded back, the all-too-familiar rush of heat spreading up her neck and to her face.

It was the perfect night for it, considering the football match just a few miles down the road was keeping most of the city occupied for a couple of hours. Everyone chose to pack out the pubs, leaving the majority of the bars fairly empty and ideal for the star-studded crowd to hide out and enjoy their night. It wasn’t often they all stepped out together like this, but birthdays were an exception.

“Drink?” Y/N’s husband asked, throwing his arm over her shoulder. Leading her to the bar, he gushed about his conversation with the Arthur Shelby, and how much of a nice guy he was. She wondered if he’d speak so highly of Cillian, or if his strange vendetta would get the better of him. “Shots for the birthday girl?”

“Oh, not yet. Let me ease myself in.” She laughed weakly, drumming her fingers on the bar.

“Not even one?”

“Why? Are you trying to get me drunk?” She raised a brow, eliciting a chuckle from him.

“Well, you always were fun after a few drinks…” He purred, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. She grimaced at his words, but luckily he didn’t notice as he was too busy waving at the bartender.

He ordered, yelling obnoxiously over the music. Y/N’s eyes wandered across the back of the bar as she absentmindedly bobbed her head to the song playing, mouthing some of the words. “Oh, I’ll get these.” They both turned to see Cillian standing there with his hands tucked into his pockets, a friendly smile on his face.

“It’s alright, mate. I promised I’d get the birthday girl her first drink.” Her husband’s hold on her tightened as he spoke, his fake grin wide enough to blind a man.

Y/N stood there between the two men, her heart pounding as she felt Cillian’s stare on her face. He’d had good intentions coming over, wanting to keep an eye on her, but she wished he’d stayed put at his table. She already struggled to act normal around her husband, and her lover’s presence only made things ten times more difficult.

“Perhaps some shots then? My treat?” Cillian rested his arm on the bar, catching the attention of another bartender.

“She doesn’t want – “

“Shots sound great. Thanks, Cill – ian.” She stuttered, correcting the nickname before her husband noticed. He looked down at his wife, then back at the man beside her who calmly ordered, leaning over the bar so he didn’t have to shout. Funny how she suddenly agreed to shots when he was the one paying…

Cillian passed Y/N and her husband a shot each, and they downed the drinks together. She winced as it burned her throat, sticking out her tongue as she groaned. “Tequila! Are you trying to kill me?”

The Irishman laughed, nodding a last thank you across the bar. “Happy birthday, Y/N.” He smiled sincerely, giving her arm an affectionate squeeze. He left the bar, rejoining the cast and crew and instantly slotting himself into a conversation. She watched him fondly, almost forgetting about the man stood behind her. Stretching his arm over her shoulder, her husband placed the drink into her hand.

She turned and took a sip. “Thank you… Wait, you didn’t take your shot?” She asked, pointing at the full glass on the bar. He shook his head, taking a swig of his beer. “Why not?”

Swallowing with a loud ‘ah’, he shrugged, his expression blank. “I figured it was a moment to be shared between the two of you. Here. Why don’t you have mine?” He slid the shot towards her, tapping the rim of the glass twice. “Go on. It’s your birthday after all.”

“You’ve got some nerve. Can’t you go a day without starting this bloody argument?” She hissed, pushing the shot back to him. Some of it spilt over the edge, leaving a sticky sheen on the bar. “Drink it, and let’s go join my friends.”

“I wouldn’t drink it if you paid me to.” He leaned down to her level, trying to intimidate her, but it didn’t work. She wasn’t scared of him; she just saw him as a pathetic, jealous little boy. When he behaved like this, it made her wonder why she ever felt bad for cheating on him at all.

“Fine. You want to be a child? Then two can play that game, babe.” She spat, turning on her heels and heading towards Cillian. She slipped herself into the group between him and Sophie, linking arms with the woman on her left. “Which one of you is going to dance with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask!” Sophie squealed, taking Y/N’s drink. “Look after this, will you?” Thrusting it into Cillian’s free hand, she then dragged Y/N into the nearest space, throwing her arms in the air and whooping to the music. They joined hands and spun around like two girls in a playground, shouting the wrong lyrics to the song and giggling uncontrollably.

Y/N twirled around and set her sights on Cillian, beckoning him over with her finger. “I’m not dancing!” He laughed over the music, keeping a firm grip on their drinks. “I’m guarding your drink!”

“No, go on. It’s her birthday.” Her husband goaded, appearing behind Cillian. Y/N frowned as she watched the two men speak, unable to hear what they were saying. Sophie grabbed her and spun her around, putting her back to them.

“Shouldn’t it be you dancing with her?” Cillian asked innocently, gently placing the drinks on the table.

“Oh… I don’t think she’s my friend at the moment.”

Watching his wife dance, he got the sense he was losing her; that she was slipping away from him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He’d noticed how Cillian watched her, that lovesick puppy dog smile pasted on his face and eyes following her every move. He had attended many an event with her past co-stars, and none of them had ever looked at her like that. To him, Cillian was showing off, gloating that he’d lured his wife away from him. He wanted to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face if it was the last thing he ever did.

Y/N stumbled out of Sophie’s grasp, dizzily making her way back to the table. “Everything alright?” She asked, out of breath and reaching for her drink. “It’s a workout dancing with her.”

“Don’t you worry, love. Everything’s fine. I was just talking to Cillian here about you. About the two of you, I mean.” Sniggering behind his glass, he gulped down the remainder of his beer and wiped his mouth, clearing his throat. Cillian’s face contorted in confusion, his fingers gripping the edge of the table, toes curling inside his shoes out of frustration.

“What’s he said to you?” She asked, directing her question to Cillian. He opened his mouth to speak, only to be rudely interrupted.

“So quick to jump to his defence.”

“We’re not doing this here.” Y/N snapped, dropping her glass with a thud. “You are not showing me up in front of my colleagues, my friends.”

“Pick a place then, love. It won’t make a fucking difference.” Her husband could be nasty when need be, but she wasn’t about to stand and take it, especially not with an audience.

“Right - “ Cillian started, cut off by Y/N barging past them both and towards the doors. This caught the attention of her cast mates, which Cillian quickly fed a lie to before speeding after her.

He found her outside, stood against the wall and hunched over, hands clutching her knees. “Y/N, I’m so sor - “

“Cillian, don’t you dare apologise for his behaviour. Do you hear me?” Her voice shook as she spoke, the sudden rush of anger overwhelming her. She slid down the wall, sitting on the pavement, her exposed shoulders flat against the cold bricks. “Who does he think he is? Acting like that in front of everyone? I could lose my fucking job.”

“You wouldn’t lose - “

“Yes, Cillian. I would. If the studio… If the writers found out about this - “

“They won’t.” He asserted, kneeling down so they were on the same level. “They won’t.”

She took a few deep breaths, Cillian’s presence calming her down as he crouched opposite her, his fingers resting lightly on her knees. “You know, for months I have felt like the worst human being in the world. Looking at myself in the mirror and seeing the cheat staring back, the lousy fucking cheat.”

“So, you’re not perfect. You’ve done some, admittedly not great things, but I don’t think anyone in there would blame you.”

“Somehow I don’t think they’d praise me for fucking my co-star behind my husband’s back.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes and rubbing her temple with her fingertips. “God, I’m sorry, Cillian. I’m not trying to… You’re so much more than that, I – “

“It’s alright. You’re upset… And I can handle whatever you throw at me.” He joked, reaching out to pinch her chin.

Hearing the doors swing open, the two flinched, Cillian rising from the ground instinctively. “Well, isn’t this cosy?” Y/N’s husband drawled, sauntering towards them. “So… I was right, yeah? You and him?” He pointed between them, his words directed at Y/N.

“Please…”

“Just answer me. Put me out of my God damn misery.” He threw his arms in the air in defeat, letting them fall to his sides, hitting his thighs with a loud slap.

Pressing her palms against the ground, Y/N pushed herself up, adjusting her dress as she steadied her feet. She approached her husband, and Cillian put his arm out to try and hold her back. “It’s OK, Cill.” She stood looking up at the man she once loved, her hands balled into fists at her side, thumbs picking at the fabric clinging to her legs. “You’re right. You figured it out.”

He exhaled a laugh, kissing his teeth. “I knew it.” Turning away, he ran his hands through his hair, looking up to the sky and sighing deeply. “How long?” He looked back, hands on his hips and brows furrowed. “Y/N, how long?”

“Since my twenty-ninth birthday…” She said shyly, realising just how much worse that made everything look. It had been exactly a year, pretty much to the hour, that she’d shared the first kiss with Cillian that started it all.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Well, I am sorry for interrupting your little anniversary night…” Exasperated, he took a deep breath and exhaled the air with puffed cheeks. “You know what? You are not the woman I married.” He pointed his finger in her face, but she didn’t react. Folding her arms over her chest, she stepped back until she felt Cillian against her, his hands supporting her upper arms. He whispered comforting words into her ear and her eyes began to water as she continued to stare at her husband, distant and unblinking.

Silence fell upon them, and Y/N expected more to be said, but was surprised to witness her husband turn and walk away. Anything else he had left to say was muttered under his breath as he disappeared around the corner. She and Cillian waited a few seconds to see if he would come back, but the street stayed unusually empty and quiet. “It’s alright. He’s gone.” Cillian whispered, and she spun in his arms, clinging onto him desperately.

Her thoughts felt like they were drowning in a whirlpool, like she couldn’t take control of them no matter how hard she tried. The heaviness in her heart had dissipated, but the ache in her stomach and throbbing in her head persisted. “Can we get out of here, please?” She begged, her head buried in Cillian’s chest.

“Shall I tell the others we’re leaving?”

“Just leave it. Please, can we just go?” Her voice cracked as her hold on him tightened, pieces of his shirt screwed up between her fingers.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Lying on the bed, Y/N stared at the ceiling, her fingers ghosting over Cillian’s as he laid beside her. A strange mixture of relief and dread washed over her body, making her feel weak yet incredibly alive at the same time. She wanted to jump up and down, to declare her feelings for Cillian from the highest rooftop she could find. However, another part of her wanted to hide, to burrow under the covers like a scared child until it was safe to come out. She was too afraid to check her phone; it was probably already blowing up with messages from her family and friends.

How could you?

Who was there for you when you were starting out? Did the fame get to your head?

He’s heartbroken! You should be ashamed.

The mere thought of it all made her head spin, and it was far easier to leave her phone on do not disturb and pretend no one else existed for a moment. Her thoughts felt so loud, and she wondered if they both held their breaths for a moment, would Cillian be able to hear the gears twisting and turning inside her brain? Or the steam coming out of her ears?

“Some birthday this was.” She sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Am I supposed to feel bad? Like… Is this the point where I’m supposed to cry and scream about how terrible of a person I am?”

“You can if you want to.” Cillian turned his head to the left, and she looked over at the same time, their eyes meeting in the middle.

“No… I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to. I just can’t. I don’t feel bad, not anymore. Is that horrible?”

“How do you feel?”

This was a new feeling for Y/N, for the both of them in fact. Throughout their relationship they’d spoken about everything from their favourite albums to their very particular pet peeves. They’d even spent a whole night debating the existence of aliens, sitting out on the balcony of a hotel room and bickering with each other beneath the stars. The thing they hadn’t really spoken about were their feelings, including their feelings for each other. Those three fateful words were still dangling from the tip of Cillian’s tongue, and there was so much Y/N wanted to say in return.

“I feel… Relieved. I feel free.” Clasping her hands together, she tucked them under her head. “That’s awful to admit, isn’t it?”

“It’s better than pretending.” He rubbed her shoulder soothingly, his thumb slipping beneath the strap of her dress. “Paul was right, you are a vision in red.”

Y/N giggled, swatting his hand away and adjusting the strap. “You are such a flirt!”

They stayed looking at each other, studying each other’s faces as if there was something new to see. Y/N counted the little flecks in Cillian’s bright blue eyes, watching his pupils twitch and change sizes with every few blinks. He added up the freckles on her face, imagining how they’d look if they were connected like tiny constellations across her cheeks. He smiled to himself, his tongue poking out to swipe across his bottom lip. “What?” She asked, eyes squinting with playful suspicion.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” His voice was gentle and quiet, barely reaching above a whisper. It wasn’t necessary in the room they were in. Not a single sound could be heard around them, except for their breathing and bodies shuffling against the sheets. He swallowed his words, assuming that perhaps she wasn’t ready to hear them. It had only been an hour since she confessed to her husband in the street, and he didn’t want to overwhelm her with a big declaration of love. He’d know when the time was right, he was sure of it.

Rolling off the bed, Y/N pressed a kiss to Cillian’s forehead and went to take a shower. Whilst she was gone, he looked around the bedroom, spotting various bits of his belongings scattered from the many times he’d stayed over. Filming for the series was almost complete, and it would soon be time for them to pack up their rentals and head home, wherever that may be. He thought about how things might change now that they technically didn’t have to sneak around anymore. Would people start to notice? Would they be victims of some derogatory Daily Mail headline by morning?

Returning in a towel, Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, combing through her damp hair in the mirror. Cillian knelt behind her, balancing on the mattress as he ducked his head down to press a soft kiss to her shoulder. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the birthday you deserve.” He murmured against her skin. She closed her eyes and hummed, enjoying the feeling of his lips moving across her shoulder blade.

“I think it was exactly what I deserved.” She whispered, turning her head to catch a glimpse of him. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he gazed up at her through his lashes.

“There’s still just under two hours left of it. Do you think we can turn it around?”

“What do you suggest?”

Cillian scrambled to his feet, hitting the carpet with a clumsy thud. Clicking his fingers, he pointed to Y/N, a goofy smile on his face. “You still have that wine in the fridge?”

“You really trust me to drink wine after last time?” She raised a brow then mimed throwing up, clutching her stomach with her arm. “After last time…” She fake gagged, making him grimace.

“OK, OK! Bad idea!”

He stood with one hand on his hip, the other raking through his hair. Cocking her head to the side, Y/N admired the view in front of her, pinching her bottom lip with her teeth. There was something oddly appealing about Cillian in regular clothes with the signature Tommy Shelby haircut. He wore a crisp white t-shirt with dark jeans, which just happened to be one of her favourite looks on him. It was simple, yet he somehow made it the most attractive thing she’d ever laid eyes on. Her eyes followed the trail of his veins down his forearm, where they reached the hand that sat just above his waistband.

“I’m gonna be honest, that was my only idea.” He laughed, resting his cheek in his hand.

“Cillian…” She said softly, shuffling to the edge of the mattress. “Come here.”

As he approached, she parted her legs, giving him enough room to stand between them. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he looked down, his eyes meeting hers. She looked so beautiful like this; just wearing a towel with unruly wet strands of hair stuck to the sides of her face. Her cheeks blushed a light pink, decorated in a couple of stray droplets of water from the shower.

“Closer.” She whispered, reaching up to grab his shirt. He lifted his knee and rested it on the mattress beside her, using his hands as support as he hovered over her, lowering her until she was laid on her back.

“Is this close enough?” He breathed, his palms flat on either side of her head.

“Almost…”

He lowered himself further as if he was performing a press-up, using the strength in his wrists to steady himself above her. “This will do.” She smiled, bringing her lips to meet his.

Dropping to his elbows, Cillian weaved his hands into her hair, tugging gently at the root. She moaned softly into his mouth, arching her back to inch herself closer to him and press their chests together. He groaned, a shiver coursing through his body as the towel around her dampened his shirt.

Pulling away from the kiss, they each opened their eyes and gazed at the other, panting quietly with heat-flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Their faces were just close enough to still be able to see one another properly without their vision blurring. Y/N sighed, her forefinger tracing the curve of his cheekbone. “Are you OK?” Cillian asked, running the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip.

“Yeah, I just…” She couldn’t concentrate with his fingers under her chin, featherlight and careful across her skin. Blinking slowly, she relaxed into his touch, relishing in the feeling of the goosebumps that prickled her cheeks.

“We can stop if you want.”

“No, no. That’s not what I want. Quite the opposite, actually.” Her words weren’t exactly a lie, but they didn’t seem to match the look on her face.

Worried, he flipped onto his side and laid next to her, his right hand finding a loose piece of thread hanging from the towel and twisting it around his finger. “If you need a bit of space for a while – “

“No, Cillian. Please don’t say that.”

“Alright, I’m sorry…”

“I just don’t know what happens next. Am I supposed to announce it to everyone? Do I file for divorce on Monday? How does this all work?” She laughed slightly, mostly at herself for being so clueless. “I think telling everyone my marriage is over will be the easy part. How do I tell them about us?”

“Well, the divorce stuff can wait for a bit. You don’t need to rush into anything.” He patted the bed, searching for her hand. She turned her palm upwards, letting his slide over the top and their fingers entwine. “As for telling anyone…”

“What?” She rolled onto her side, mirroring his position. “Do you think we should tell people?”

“I was going to say, is there really any need in telling anyone yet? I mean, we’ve kept it between the two of us for this long already and – “

“Yes, but that was because we didn’t have a choice.”

“I know... but just think about it. I think it would be weirder if we charged into work next week and announced it to everyone.”

She stared at a crease in Cillian’s shirt, daydreaming about how things were going to be. He was right. They didn’t need to shout about it, and Y/N certainly didn’t want to draw any attention to herself just yet. She already knew what people were going to think of her and label her as, and she wanted to delay the backlash for as long as possible; whether her husband was going to allow that was another story…

Cillian opened his arms for her, scooting higher onto the bed so his feet were no longer dangling off the edge. She followed, snuggling into him and tangling her legs with his. The silence between them was heavy, like there were a million words going unsaid. Y/N knew that Cillian was everything she wanted, but a small part of her worried about what would happen to her husband. Being married to someone for four years was going to leave a stamp on her forever, but she sincerely hoped he’d be OK, and that he wouldn’t try to inflict a war on her and Cillian. She knew in time that things would smooth themselves out and feel normal, but for now, she was content to sit in her little confusing bubble, just as long as Cillian was in it with her.

“Cill?”

“Mhm?”

“When we met earlier in wardrobe, and I spotted that box, what was in it?” She smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

“You really wanna know?” She nodded. “OK… Well, that box wasn’t actually for you.”

“What?”

“I don’t know what was in it! It was already there.”

“Cillian!” She slapped his chest playfully and he huffed, feigning hurt. “Why did you say it was for me?”

“Technically, I didn’t! You just assumed.” He laughed, watching her cheeks redden and brows knit together. “Don’t look so disappointed! Listen, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow when I give, or rather take you to your real present.”

“Now I’m intrigued.”

“That’s all I’m saying! I’m not going to spoil it.”

“Fine…” He hugged her tightly, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. She listened to his heartbeat, counting the thumps in sets of eight. Looking up from his chest, she was surprised to see him already looking at her. “What about my other present?” She whispered.

“What do you – Oh, right. That.”

She sat up, kneeling beside him so she could see him better. He rotated onto his back, folding his arms across his chest, and tucking his hands under his arms. “Y/N – “

“No, wait!” She turned her head, fixing her messy hair and readjusting the towel around her body. Turning back with a flip of her hair and a dramatic flailing of her arms, she gestured for him to sit up.

“What are you doing?”

Awkwardly crawling closer on her knees, she ran the back of her hand over his cheek, leaving it to rest below his jaw. “Cillian.”

“Y/N.” He chuckled, and she immediately hushed him. She tried her best to be serious, but laughter threatened to burst out of her. “Whatever you’re doing, please get on with it because you’re freaking me ou – “

“Here it comes…” She spoke in her best attempt at an Irish accent, cringing at herself.

“Oh for Christ’s sake.” He threw his head back, belly laughing, and she grabbed him by his shirt to pull him back. Composing himself, he bit his cheeks to refrain from laughing any more. “Sorry… Go on.”

“I love you.”

He was silent, staring at her as he ran his fingers along his upper lip nervously. He knew it was coming, yet it still caught him by surprise, hearing those words come out of her mouth. He’d heard her say them plenty of times when they were in character, but this was different. They sounded so sweet when they finally meant something, and feeling her eyes on him made his heart pound in his chest. “Too cheesy?” Y/N asked, dropping the terrible accent.

“Cheesy, but I liked it.”

Sitting down cross-legged, she reached her hand out for him which he gladly took. He kissed her knuckles softly, keeping his lips there as he looked up at her. “I love you too.” He confessed. Both their bodies seemed to slump as if a weight they’d been carrying had been lifted, and despite everything that had happened, or rather gone wrong, that night, this moment felt right. He kissed her again, before slotting his fingers between hers and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “And we’re going to be OK.”

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy oneshot #peaky blinders #cillian murphy

440 notes · View notes

qveerthe0ry · 4 months

Text

Misfire

Summary: Dieter gets waxed for a role and gets a little too excited. Word Count: 966 Pairing: Dieter Bravo x GN! Reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, dubious consent, body hair waxing, pain kink, humiliation kink (kinda), subby!Dieter, ruined orgasm, coming untouched, hands-free orgasm, reader does not engage in sex acts, mentions of alcohol, mentions of drug use, accidental exhibitionism, accidental voyeurism Note: I'm hoping this will be part of a long series of one-shots where I write Dieter as a pathetic little subby, desperate, whimpering mess. As of right now I don't have any big plans for what to write next, but I'm always down for suggestions ;) - Also, I had a hard time with the warnings on this one, don't hesitate to let me know if I missed something that needs tagged.

Dieter Bravo does not feel shame.

His entire schtick is doing whatever the fuck he wants, unapologetically. He hasn’t batted an eye at a tabloid headline in decades.

But now… Now he feels like a fool. He’s gone and landed himself a really stupid part in a low-budget film about a bunch of old guys on an Olympic diving team.

Which, first of all, ouch. He knows he has some years under his belt, but he wasn’t ready to be typecast into old guy roles this early on.

But second of all, ouch again, because he’s gotta get a full body wax for this dud of a movie that’s inevitably going to sink anyway.

And not ouch in a bad way, per se. But ouch as in he’s kind of really into the sting, and he’s ass naked on this cold table covered in paper, hard as a rock.

Which was fine when he was turned onto his stomach. He was able to squish his cock in a not-so-pleasant way to stave off the desperation.

But now you’re telling him to flip over, and he doesn’t want to move. Any other time he’d be dying to get his cock out and swing it around. But you’re just trying to do your job, and here he is, leaking onto your poor little waxing table, soiling it.

With a heaved sigh, he rolls onto his back, clambering all awkward on the small space. You’re turned away from him, preparing the next glob of hot wax, and his cock throbs.

“I’m sorry,” he says, quiet and shameful, and you barely hear him.

“What’s that?”

Dieter can’t say it again. He just grumbles and covers his eyes with his arm as you fiddle with your waxing supplies and glance at him.

“Oh. It’s fine, happens all the time. I’ve seen worse.”

That at least gets him to huff out a laugh. You sound unbothered, and it eases him a bit.

“I’d hate to see worse,” he tries to joke.

You just hum in response.

You start on his chest, though there’s not much to wax there. His armpits are ticklish, which makes him even harder. His cock bobs in the air, angry and red and neglected. He’s afraid to move, he’s afraid to breathe, he’s such a hair trigger.

He starts thinking about all the directors he hates. He goes down the line, from his earliest project he can remember, and he’s about halfway through when you finally finish his shins and knees but it doesn’t help.

Your hand taps the inside of his thigh, prompting him to spread and bend, and the movement sends his cock lolling onto his stomach. It makes him jolt and suck in a deep breath. He can tell you’re trying to ignore it. He wishes he could.

And fuck, he hasn’t gotten off in like, a week and a half, caught up between traveling and getting whiskey dick at that party and leaving his Cialis at his friends with benefits’ apartment.

He jolts every time you wax the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs. And every time he jolts, his cockhead rubs against his now smooth stomach. His dick is drooling.

When you get to the well groomed, thank you very much hair at the base of his dick, you have to wipe away the obscene amount of pre-cum that’s pooled there.

“Sorry,” he breathes again.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, swiping the taut skin.

It tugs on his dick. He whimpers.

His knuckles are white now, gripping the edge of the table so hard he’s sure there will be permanent nail marks on the pleather. He’s biting his bottom lip, a metallic taste blooms inside his mouth.

He’s lightheaded, between holding his breath and the fact that all his blood is in his dick, and his vision starts to tunnel a bit. Those tell-tale, fuzzy stars begin dancing around in the edges of his vision but promptly disappear when you grab his dick.

The sound he makes is pitiful, a pathetic plea to his own body to stop betraying him.

He chances a look down to see what you’re doing. One of your gloved hands holds his dick with just your thumb and forefinger, as professional as can be, while you spread wax across the wiry hairs just above it.

He’s on the edge, his cock is jerking and pulsing between your two fingers, and if he can just make it past these next few minutes he can spill into his own hand as soon as you leave the room to let him dress.

If only.

You rip the wax from his skin, and it tugs on his cock and it hurts and it feels so fucking good. The pleasure shoots down his spine and he cries out a pathetic little whine. He’s barely able to push your hand away in time, breathing out an apology just as his prick jumps and releases a long, thick rope of cum.

“I’m so sorry, fuck, s-sorry,” he pants.

Tears prickle behind his eyeballs as he just keeps coming. There’s so much it’s almost comical, spraying the tender, reddened skin of his chest and belly. You’re just staring too, completely emotionless, waiting for it to end so you can complete your job.

Dieter whimpers again, biting his fist as he watches the last of his release dribble down his traitorous cock, then squeezes his eyes shut. A tear slips free, and he lets out a shuddering breath. This is the worst orgasm of his entire life, and that includes all the times he couldn’t help but rub one out with a UTI.

You clear your throat, and you’re handing him a box of tissues.

“I’ll let you clean yourself, then I’ll finish up.”

He hears your impatient sigh as you leave the room. Apparently Dieter Bravo can feel shame.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo fic #sub!dieter bravo #dieter bravo whimpering #I am going to put this man through the TRENCHES

215 notes · View notes

mizading · 9 months

Text

UPPER MOON YANDERE HEADCANONS~ PT.2

Characters: Muzan, Gyutaro, Sekido, Urogi, Karaku, Gyokko, Kaigaku.

A/N: I would like to thank Yoshinohirmet for the request! I thoroughly enjoyed adding to my Yandere Upper Moon series. As for my readers, thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of the love. Take care of yourselves and enjoy <3

Warnings : Verbal abuse, Physical abuse, violence, obsession, Yandere themes, etc.

Muzan ・❥・

Muzan, a man with a twisted secret.

You’re the one chosen to take on the role of the demon's wife.

Muzan's obsession won’t be known.

As far as you know, you’re only here to maintain his facade of a perfect family.

Your only job is to help him live a "normal" life and keep his true identity hidden.

Deep down, a twisted spiral of obsession consumes Muzan slowly but entirely.

Although you serve a purpose that benefits Muzan, it’s merely an appropriate excuse for Muzan to get close to you.

Something about you is as intoxicating as his desire for the blue spider lily.

He himself can’t explain his unhealthy attraction to you.

Each day, he loses more and more control over this dark passion that burns inside.

Muzan needs you entirely. He’ll tell you lies until his last breath, just to keep you dependent.

You need him; you’re merely nothing without Muzan. You serve no purpose other than being his.

Muzan prefers to silently watch and stalk.

Seeing you exist and your movements, untainted by the presence of another, satisfies his desire ever so slightly.

Muzan just loves the way you exist naturally when nobody is around. Everything about you is fascinating. The way your eyebrows furrow while reading, the way you bite your lip when focusing, how your right eye is a bit wider when you smile—he loves it all.

In your eyes, you disgust Muzan. You serve no purpose other than being his "wife". He barely speaks to you, let alone acknowledges your presence.

At least, that is what you believe.

Muzan will slip one day. He can’t keep pretending that his body doesn’t yearn for you. He’s slowly losing control.

Muzan's spiral of hidden obsession will eventually engulf you both.

Gyutaro ・❥・

You’re the only thing that Gyutaro has—the only possession of his that is worth anything.

If Gyutaro doesn’t have you, he has less than nothing.

Nights would be spent with him obsessively touching and admiring you.

Over-the-top praise would be whispered in your ear as his fingers shakily traced your supple skin.

Gyutaro has a meal schedule set in place for you.

He desperately needs to see you in the best condition possible; he knows more than anyone what it’s like to almost die from starvation.

Gyutaro treats you as a trophy to show off, his little pretty lover.

Although he doesn’t take well to other men or women staring at or touching you.

One gaze that lasts too long from another sends Gyutaro into a blinding rage.

Gyutaro has a lingering fear that you'll see someone who meets your unattainable level.

He won’t ever have the only thing that he has in his pathetic life taken from him.

Gyutaro secretly craves your acceptance—just a small reassurance that he isn’t the scum of the earth.

Deep down, he fantasizes about being attractive and finally being able to proudly call himself your lover without utter shame and embarrassment.

Gyutaros strength is the only thing he has an ounce of confidence in.

He may never be able to compare to something as small as your hand when it comes to looks, but he can protect you proudly.

Gyutaro will gladly give up his life for you over and over again.

Sekido ・❥・

Not a soul was safe from Sekido’s wrath, but you were somehow the exception?

You were on a mission with other demon-slayers when you first met him.

Your existence hypnotized Sekido; every movement of yours made his own existence worthless to him.

All that mattered in the moment was you.

Your comrades were killed in no time; as for you? He didn’t lay a single hand on you.

All attempts to hurt Sekido were futile.

Sekido doesn’t want to take you by force, but he will if he has to.

Sekido would take you into hiding. For now, he wants you to himself with nobody to interfere.

Months would be spent with him in the forest.

Days consist of him admiring you, trying to figure out what's so special about you.

Why do you make him feel this way?

Sekido wouldn’t force physical contact until his emotions were too much to bear; he'd hold out for as long as possible.

Once he actually gets his hands on you, it’s hard for him to control himself.

Sekido isn’t exactly gentle with you; he has too much pent-up anger, but he tries.

Disobeying in any form earns you verbal abuse or physical restraint.

Don’t test Sekido; he can’t always control himself.

Urogi ・❥・

You make excitement run its course through Urogi’s body.

Such a beautiful specimen you were through his eyes.

Urogis feathers can’t help but ruffle at the thought of you belonging to him.

His sizable wings would wrap around you tightly, preventing you from leaving as he dragged you to a new location.

Somewhere, the two of you could stay together for as long as you both live.

Seeing the fear in your eyes, hearing your screams, and watching your hopeless attempts to escape makes his fire of excitement burn brighter.

Urogi knows that such a smart and beautiful person as you would soon understand that he is what's best for you.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, could ever come close to his love.

Attempt to escape, and you’re wrapped in his soft but chilling wings again.

"Can’t you see how good I am for you? Keep up this bad behavior; you’re making things much more exciting."

Urogi wouldn’t use any of his abilities on you; he doesn’t need to.

His physical strength alone is enough to keep you his. It’s much more entertaining this way.

The way Urogi scans your body using his blinding yellow eyes with a soft but chilling smile on his face makes you weak in the knees.

He’s expresses nothing but joy and excitement, no matter what you attempt to do.

There is something awfully off about Urogi; he knows this, and you know this.

Karaku ・❥・

Karakus's obsessiveness is only natural; it goes hand in hand with pleasure.

There have been many that Karaku has been fond of, but nobody could dare touch your level.

The way your little face scrunches up with determination while you swing useless slashes at him drives Karaku crazy.

Your hopelessness is so precious to him.

Karaku pays an awful amount of attention to your body; the way you maneuver fascinates him.

Karaku thoroughly enjoys touching you unexpectedly; he simply does it to see the way your body reacts.

You’re basically Karaku's doll, his new porcelain doll wrapped in plastic.

He’ll do anything in his power to make you completely dependent on him and him alone.

Karaku breaking and molding you into his little dependent doll is only a cover-up for how much he needs you.

If you need him, he won’t ever have to worry about the one thing he needs most escaping from his grasp.

It takes much effort to make Karaku the slightest bit unhappy.

Throw a tantrum? He thinks it's cute.

Hurt him? He enjoys pinning you down, Karaku will put up with all of your antics.

The only thing that can manage to set off Karaku is trying to escape.

Attempting to escape his grasp drives him mad; why would you ever try to leave him?

Karaku will hunt you down until the second he takes his last breath.

Gyokko ・❥・

You were the first thing to make Gyokko pause in awe, besides his own vases.

A mere human with beauty that puts one of his vases to shame? Gyokko couldn’t wrap his mind around the phenomenon.

Gyokko spent a couple of weeks stalking you from the shadows.

He needed to capture your beauty somewhere, and that somewhere was on a vase.

Gyokko spends hours studying your features, painting out every little detail of your existence on an empty vase.

Your essence needed to be captured permanently.

Gyokko wants nothing more than to show you his work—just something, anything that’ll impress you.

All he wants is your validation—to make you pause in awe just as much as he did when he first laid eyes on you.

Deep down, Gyokko knows better; he shouldn’t dare show himself.

He has just enough sense left to acknowledge his form, half of his body encapsulated in a vase, and a terrifying face as a cherry on top.

Gyokko only has enough confidence to watch you silently from the depths of the night.

By now, there are at least fifty vases, all in your name.

Gyokko quenches his heart's desire for you by admiring you on his vases; it’s almost as if you’re really there.

Somehow, someday Gyokko will have you posing right before his eyes as he paints every inch of you.

Kaigaku ・❥・

On the outside, Kaigaku is seen as an arrogant narcissist.

What lies inside is someone insecure, who craves your acceptance more than anything.

Kaigaku ingrained your low worth compared to him into your head.

This is the only way he knows how to keep you by his side for as long as you live.

If you continue to stray, Kaigaku will resort to physical violence.

He knows no better; this is the only way in his clouded mind.

There are moments where Kaigaku gets slightly vulnerable.

This typically only happens after a battle.

Kaigaku will spend hours on end begging for your acceptance.

The demon only wants to hear that he still has a purpose, even if it's minor.

His vulnerability is hidden once more the next day.

Kaigaku will return to his verbally abusive ways, denying anything that happened the night before.

Kaigaku's only worry is that you'll see through his facade.

He can’t bear the thought of you seeing him for who he truly is.

Until that day comes, Kaigaku will force you to be by his side.

With him, you are nothing more than his puppet.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #muzan kibutsuji #writing #anime #demon slayer x reader #12 kizuki #sekido #urogi #karaku #gyutaro #gyokko #kaigaku #yandere demon slayer #yandere demon x reader #upper moons #muzan x reader

435 notes · View notes

bosbas · 2 months

Text

Alternate Ending: I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs

series masterlist original ending || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader, anthony bridgerton x wife!reader WC: 5.2k words (whoops I got carried away)

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, benedict being so down bad for this woman, unrequited love, pregnancy and discussions around pregnancy/birth

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: The timeline for this ending diverges after chapter 12!! This is how life would look like if Chapter 13 and onward didn't happen.

March 3, 1820 - B,

I apologize for my delayed response – I’m sure you’ll understand that I was a tad occupied giving birth. But she’s finally here! It was easier than the other three, so I'm personally delighted, though Anthony seemed just as stressed as usual. And, as usual, he'll most likely be resting for the next five days. If he ever stops looking at her in awe, that is. It would be quite adorable if I didn't need to wrestle her away from him to nurse her every few hours!

Although, I will say that Anthony being taken with her has worked out quite well for me. I was able to finish my novel and get a full night's sleep last night. I'd love to see you soon if you're up for it. You can meet her and we can discuss your latest painting, which I heard was absolutely breathtaking. Anthony and I will both be home for the next week at least, so feel free to pop by any time.

Yours, Y/I

You finished addressing the envelope to Benedict right as Anthony walked into your bedroom holding the tiny form of your newborn daughter. Twisting in your seat to face them, you cooed when you saw her fast asleep in his arms. She was wrapped in a soft pink blanket, and you couldn’t help but marvel at her tiny fists opening and closing absentmindedly as she slept. She looked so peaceful in Anthony’s arms, and it was terrifying to think that a human being this small would grow up to be an adult and that you would have to guide her through it. Well, she would have Anthony too, you thought. And the thought did a lot to quell your fears.

For as long as you had known him, Anthony had been a steadfast figure in your life. He’d been the eldest of the Beaumont-Bridgertons, and he certainly acted like it, too. The responsibility he felt for his family was evident in everything he did, and it was one of the qualities you admired most about him. Now, seeing Anthony cradle your newborn daughter with such gentleness and awe only solidified your feelings for him.

You had decidedly not been in love when you had married him, but one couldn’t simply have four children with someone and not develop at least a little affection for them. The two of you had been wonderful friends even before you were married, and you still were, but along the way, it seemed that you had learned to love each other in your own funny sort of way. It wasn’t the sort of all-consuming love you had for Benedict all those years ago, and that perhaps you had still in a corner of your heart. But it was comforting and safe and built upon a deep respect for one another, and your life was all the better for it.

Perhaps you and Ben had never been destined for a life like this, you thought. Your childhood intention to wed Benedict had been just that: a naïve plan. That night in the studio with Benedict, after he had found out in the most unfortunate manner that you and Anthony were courting, you had needed something safe and constant. And Benedict had given you the complete opposite. For so many years, he had been your anchor, but that night you felt like the ground had fallen away below your feet and you were in free fall. You had so much love for Benedict that you didn’t even know where to put it. You could feel it from your heart to your fingertips, and it was terrifying. You thought about Violet and Edmund in that moment, and how destroyed Violet had been when Edmund passed. The thought of that happening to you and Benedict made you sick. The thought of taking the risk and putting your heart in his hands only for it to crumble.

Maybe running away from Benedict at that moment was the cowardly thing to do. Maybe you should have faced your fears and given in to the overpowering love. Maybe you should have kissed your best friend and dealt with the consequences later, holding his hand the whole way through. But you hadn’t. You had sought out safety instead, running up the stairs to Anthony’s room and knocking incessantly until he opened the door, eyes startled and hand holding a handkerchief to his cut lip.

“We’re getting married,” you had declared, breathing ragged and arms crossed tightly over your chest.

“Who’s ‘we’?” he asked, hoping you meant you and Benedict but suspecting otherwise given that you were currently at his door looking furious.

“You and me. And we’re going to do it as soon as possible.”

Anthony uttered a soft, “Oh.” He didn’t know what else to say. “And Benedict…” he added in a questioning tone.

“No,” you said firmly. “No Benedict.”

He had expected you to say more, but you just stood in front of him, unmoving.

“I suppose I can start the arrangements,” Anthony said finally. “If you’re sure this is what you want.”

“I am sure.”

God, Benedict must have truly done something stupid, he thought. “Very well, then.”

“Good night, Anthony. We can inform our families of our engagement tomorrow morning.”

He just nodded in response, still too stunned to fully process your words.

You cleared your throat and your stoic façade faded slightly. “And thank you, Anthony. For everything,” you said, suddenly very aware of what being married to Anthony might mean.

He shook his head. “No, no. It was nothing. You are family.”

A month later, you were married at the church near Aubrey Hall. Benedict barely stayed long enough to see the two of you say your vows, citing an urgent problem with his cottage in the countryside. His family was kind enough not to question his obviously fabricated excuse, but he couldn’t miss the endless looks of pity sent his way. He had been hurt. Well, you had hurt him. You hurt him when you walked away from him, and you hurt him when you announced your engagement to your family without telling him first, but most of all, you hurt him when you chose Anthony even after two decades of history with Benedict.

Maybe none of your fears would have come true, and you and Ben would have been happy. Maybe he would have treated your heart with the same love and care with which he always treated you. But it didn’t do to dwell on what could have been. Your marriage with Anthony was real. It was concrete and it was grounding, and you couldn’t imagine a more stable presence in your life.

Bringing you out of your musings, you felt Anthony kiss your cheek in greeting and ask, “Do you want to take her?”

You nodded eagerly, setting down the letter in your hand so you could hold your daughter. “I’m surprised you’re willingly letting me have her,” you teased, laughing as Anthony all but collapsed onto the loveseat across from you, clearly exhausted.

He had been an awfully attentive father the past few days, ecstatic to finally have a girl after three boys. Though she had brought out a heightened sense of protectiveness he couldn’t seem to shake. It was rather endearing to see him so frazzled over a baby that weighed less than eight pounds, but you suspected there might be something more to it.

“She’s so tiny!” he defended, gaze fixed on her admittedly minuscule form in your arms. “I can’t help it…” He trailed off, deep in thought. You glanced up at him, noticing the change in his tone and his hunched posture. After five years of marriage, you had him memorized, and reading him came as naturally as reading a book.

“Is anything the matter?” you asked gently, already having a general idea about what was plaguing him.

But he shook his head, murmuring a soft no and focusing on the writing desk behind you instead. “Is that for Benedict?” he inquired, nodding in the direction of the letter.

“Yes, I’m just telling him that she’s here and asking him to come visit,” you answered, still eyeing him carefully.

“So, he’s coming to visit, then?” pressed Anthony, eyes back on your daughter, who was currently sleeping soundly in your arms.

“Well, I don’t see why he wouldn’t. Why do you ask?” You changed tactics, trying to seem nonchalant about your concern.

“Alright. That’s good. Yes, that’s good,” he muttered, seemingly satisfied with your answer but his mind was obviously miles away.

Growing increasingly worried, you stood up and carefully laid your daughter in her crib, ensuring she remained undisturbed. With her settled, you approached Anthony, who hadn't shifted his gaze from where you had been sitting. Kneeling beside him, you reached out and gingerly placed your hand on his. The touch seemed to quiet his restless thoughts, and he turned to meet your eyes, acknowledging the weight of his anxiety.

Anthony spoke softly, carefully. “I just want to make sure that you and the children are taken care of. In case something happens to me. I want you to have someone.”

You should have known that this was what plagued him. During the first year of your marriage, you settled into a comfortable dynamic with Anthony. It was not quite love, but something like it had blossomed between the two of you. However, it was after the birth of your first son, Arthur, that Anthony reached a breaking point. He realized that his grand plan to marry someone he didn’t love to avoid any undue heartbreak was not, in fact, foolproof. Even if there hadn’t been growing affection between you, Anthony completely fell in love with Arthur from the moment he was born. It was like nothing he’d experienced before; beyond anything he could have imagined. And it was terribly frightening.

He had shared his fears with you–he’d had no choice in the matter when you were as stubborn and insistent as you were–and you had shared that you, too, were scared. But you trusted one another, and so the two of you navigated parenthood in tandem and Anthony’s fears subsided. Regardless, you could understand that the birth of your daughter brought back this fear in full force, and he felt a greater need to protect her from danger than he would with his sons.

“Anthony, I won’t need someone. You’re right here, and you always will be.”

He shook his head, looking at you with desperation in his eyes. “How can you know that?”

You pursed your lips, brows furrowing. “Even if you aren’t, it won’t be your fault. You’re a wonderful father. And a wonderful husband.”

With a deep sigh, he clasped your hand and stood up, bringing you with him. “Just promise me you’ll ask Benedict to take care of you if I go?”

Your heart softened. Knowing he needed to hear you say it out loud, you nodded, “I promise.”

---

March 5, 1820 – Y/I,

One would think Anthony had been the one to give birth instead of you! I’ll pop by today to give him a talking-to. And to meet my lovely niece, of course.

Yours, B

You found yourself in the nursery this afternoon, your three boys gathered around you and your daughter fast asleep in her crib. It was a lovely day out; sunny but not too hot, but the boys hardly noticed. Instead, they sat still, completely enthralled as you read from your current novel. Though you adored reading to your children, you found children’s books rather boring and repetitive. Thus, you had shifted to reading them excerpts from your own reading material. It made the endeavor much more interesting, and the boys seemed to love it too, evident as they hung on your every word.

“‘Listen to me, Frankenstein. You accuse me of murder,’” you read, and your sons gasped, not quite understanding the meaning of the word but easily catching onto your surprised reaction. You continued, “‘and yet you would, with a satisfied conscience, destroy your own creature. Oh, praise the eternal justice of man! Yet I ask-’”

“Surely I’ve heard wrong and you’re not reading to your children about murder!” came Benedict’s voice from the doorway.

Immediately, three voices squealed in delight and Frankenstein was completely forgotten as your sons rushed over to their uncle. Charles was only one year old, but his brothers’ excitement only fueled his clumsy crawl toward Benedict’s waiting arms.

“They don’t exactly know what it means, Ben,” you laughed. “Besides, it’s wonderful literature. And it keeps them entertained.”

He picked up Charles in one arm and Arthur in the other, making his way over to you as Bernard clung to his leg. “Well, I’m sure you know better than me, darling,” he commented and kissed you sweetly on the top of your head.

“Isn’t that usually the case?” you teased, standing up to properly greet your best friend. Though you hadn’t joined the welcome committee, you were positively glowing now that Ben had arrived. It had been over a week since you had seen him, and you had missed him terribly. You smiled brightly, instantly at ease in his presence.

Eyebrows raised and eyes shining with mirth, he teased back, “You forget I have three very bloodthirsty boys on my side who have just learned what murder is.”

You looked at Arthur, who was completely focused on attempting to undo Benedict’s cravat, and Charles, who had two fingers in his mouth and was unsuccessfully attempting to put in a third, then glanced back at Benedict.

“Quite bloodthirsty, aren’t they?” you deadpanned as you gently pried Charles’ hand from his mouth.

Ben couldn’t help the waves of laughter rolling off him as he observed your sons. “It seems they still have a way to go before they get there.”

Then, spotting the pink crib across the room, he gasped and set down Arthur and Charles and somewhat successfully shook Bernard off his leg. Walking over to the crib, he stared at her, completely awestruck.

"She’s so tiny!” he exclaimed, careful to keep his voice down so as not to wake her.

You giggled, making your way over. “That’s exactly what Anthony said,” you smiled at him.

But your smile did nothing to soothe the dull ache that had blossomed in his chest as he remembered all the things he could have had with you. The pain was not as unbearable now as it had been five years ago, but he was inclined to think that it would be there for the rest of his life. In the back of his mind, Benedict wondered if he would have been as good of a father as Anthony. He supposed he would never know, having devoted himself completely to his art and extinguishing any lingering hopes Violet had that her second son would ever marry. But you seemed happy, and that was truly all that mattered.

Ignoring the pain in his chest, he smiled sweetly back down at you. “What’s her name? Something starting with a D, I’m sure. Otherwise, Anthony will have lost his mind.”

“Yes, naturally,” you giggled. You tugged on Ben’s sleeve to bring him closer to the crib. “Benedict, meet Diana Bridgerton.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Bridgerton,” he murmured, intently observing your daughter as she slowly blinked her eyes open.

“Quite eager to meet her uncle,” you observed, but Benedict was too mesmerized by her to respond properly.

“She’s got your eyes,” he whispered after a few seconds, turning back to you and placing an arm around you. Your arm snaked around his back, and you drew him in a little closer.

Leaning down to place his cheek on your head and hugging you tighter, he spoke softly, “I thought you might name her Daisy. Flower names and all that. Besides, it starts with a D.”

Benedict didn’t quite know where the comment had come from. You hadn’t mentioned flower names in years, but the thought had suddenly popped into his brain quite unexpectedly and he had been unable to stop the words coming out of his mouth. He knew he was so incredibly lucky to know you and to love you and to have a friendship with you, but it was at times like these when he wished he didn’t know you quite so well. At times when knowing you was only a reminder of what he lost.

In that moment, you were thankful to be facing Diana’s crib instead of Benedict, because you could feel the tears prickling at your eyes. The flower names. Of course Benedict would have remembered. You had never truly regretted marrying Anthony, but what you had with Ben transcended anything you could ever have with anyone else, and sometimes it was hard to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t your person anymore.

Shaking your head to will the tears away, you responded, “No. No, I could never.”

“What? You always said you wanted to name your children flower names.”

“No, Benedict. I wanted to name our children flower names.”

He felt all the air in his lungs escaping all at once. It felt as if someone had reached deep inside of him, taken hold of every organ inside his body, and squeezed very tightly. Wanted to name our children. Our children. Our. Just a simple word, three letters in total, had managed to leave him completely disarmed.

It was silly, really. You were married and had four children with his brother, of all people. And Benedict was still completely and irrevocably in love with you. He rather thought that he would always love you, in some form or another. Benedict suspected that Anthony knew this too, though his older brother was far too tactful to ever broach the subject.

Seemingly unaware of Ben's internal turmoil as he tried to reduce his feelings to their usual dormant state, you grabbed hold of his hand and led him away from Diana toward the door. “Nurse Edwards can watch the children while we go downstairs to have some tea. I must hear about your painting displayed at the National Gallery! I wish I hadn’t been about two days from bursting so I could have gone to see the unveiling.”

---

November 17, 1820 – Benedict,

Y/N has fallen ill, and I am away on business unable to tend to her. Go to Aubrey Hall as soon as possible and make sure she’s alright.

Please.

Anthony

Benedict could barely hear the rain pouring down outside his carriage over his racing heartbeat. Anthony’s frantic note had left Ben in a state of panic. He had left for Aubrey Hall immediately upon receiving the note, but he still worried that he might be too late. What on earth had frightened his older brother to the point of asking Benedict for help? A million possibilities, each one as devastating as the other, raced through his mind.

The sight of your home interrupted his catastrophizing, and he swung the door open and ran toward the entrance before the carriage could come to a complete stop. Benedict was somewhat aware that he was getting completely drenched in the rain, but his mind was far too focused on getting to you to care.

The front door was already open when he reached it, and Benedict burst through, barely hearing the butler’s, “Upstairs in her bedchamber, Mr Bridgerton,” before he was frantically climbing the stairs to get to you.

Once he reached your door, Ben stopped quite suddenly. He didn’t want to startle you by bursting in unannounced, so he waited a few seconds to catch his breath. Finally, he turned the doorknob slowly, hands shaking nervously as he entered your bedroom.

In between shockingly vivid dreams and a splitting headache, you vaguely registered what looked to be Benedict’s tall frame standing in your room. You shook your head, confused by his presence and not quite trusting your own eyes, but the effort left you breathless and you coughed violently.

“It’s alright, darling. You just rest,” he shushed you, shrugging off his drenched coat before he came to your side.

It killed him to see you like this, pale and sweaty as shivers wracked through your tired body. He had never seen you look so ill, not even when you came down with influenza when you were ten years old, and he was trying his hardest to hold himself together.

“Have you called for a medic?” his voice came out a bit strangled as he asked your lady’s maid, Rose, who had been nervously fidgeting off to the side.

"Yes, Mr Bridgerton. It's pneumonia," she said softly, her voice filled with concern. "The best we can do is keep her comfortable and give her fluids until her fever breaks."

He nodded, running his hands through his hair in an attempt to calm down. But you had drifted into fitful sleep, and your shallow, ragged breathing was only making him more worried.

Nevertheless, he had to think clearly. Anthony was away, meaning that Benedict was now entirely responsible for you. The realization steeled his nerves, so he straightened his waistcoat and released a controlled breath, ready to face whatever came his way.

“Where are the children? I trust Nurse Edwards is with them now,” he said firmly.

Rose nodded. “They’re asleep now, but she is there in case they need anything. They’re taken care of,” she reassured.

“Very well. Please let me know if I can be of any assistance to them.” Then, clearing his throat, “Ring for tea, please,” he instructed. “And bring me towels and a bowl of lukewarm water.”

She nodded, hurrying out of the room. Benedict moved closer to your bedside, his heart twisting at the sight of you in distress. He didn't hesitate, pulling a chair close to the bed and sitting down beside you. Gently, he reached out to feel your burning forehead, but you immediately flinched, the pain evident in your eyes as they shot open.

“Too cold,” you rasped. “Please don’t.”

He cursed under his breath, heart cracking slightly at your reaction. But he withdrew his hand immediately, settling instead for sitting on a chair next to your bed, watching you intently for any signs that your condition was worsening.

You looked awfully pale, paler than he’d ever seen you, and your lips had turned a concerning shade of purple. Though even when you were drenched in sweat and shivering, you still were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, he thought. Even now, years after you had married another man, you remained his muse. The heartbreak he experienced that summer had been an admittedly excellent source of inspiration, and his new works helped propel him forward in the art world. It had served as a distraction, proving especially useful when Ben heard the news that you were pregnant for the first time so soon after the wedding. But now he supposed that art was no longer a distraction, and had instead become his life.

Maybe it was better this way, he sometimes thought. Maybe fate had never intended for him to be with you, though he couldn't fathom why the universe seemed so cruel. But the conclusion that he most often came to is that this was some sort of punishment. And he supposed he rather deserved it. He had continuously run away from the person he loved most, his best friend, the love of his life, time and again while you had only waited patiently for him to love you back.

Looking down at you now, he still felt the need to take care of you. The instinct would never go away. But it was a shame that the only reason he was allowed to do it now was because your husband had asked him to.

Your lady’s maid cleared her throat, standing at the doorway with the items Benedict had requested. He waved her in and had her place the tea on your bedside table, but he took hold of the towels himself and dipped one of them in the bowl of water.

“How long have you been here?” Ben asked Rose, taking in her exhausted appearance.

“Since midmorning, Mr Bridgerton,” she responded, stifling a yawn. "But I'm happy to do it. Lady Bridgerton seems to need it, too."

“Well, I think you ought to go to bed now, Rose,” he responded, gently placing the damp towel on your forehead. You let out a soft sigh of relief, and the tightness in Benedict’s heart loosened the tiniest bit.

Hearing his words, Rose could have collapsed right then and there. “Thank you, Mr Bridgerton. Please call for one of the servants if you need anything,” she said gratefully. And then, before he could change his mind, she hurried out of your bedroom.

The towel had seemed to rouse you from your sleep, and you sat up weakly so you could take in your surroundings.

You opened your eyes, happy to find Benedict still in your room. “Hello, there,” you croaked, but he shushed you, immediately holding a teacup to your lips. You took a hesitant sip, but the warm liquid ran down your throat so soothingly that you grasped the cup with your own hands and drank the entire thing.

Ben laughed softly, delicately taking the teacup from you so as not to touch you, not having forgotten your earlier protests when he placed a hand on your forehead.

“How long have you been here?” you asked Benedict, a particularly strong shiver making your teeth chatter. Noting his look of concern, you rushed to reassure him, “I’m fine, Ben. Promise.” However, you didn’t know how convincing you had sounded, given that you started violently coughing immediately after the words left your lips.

“I can see that. You look great,” teased Benedict.

“I bet,” you shot back, and he was unable to keep the fond smile off his face. “I’m–” you started, but another coughing fit prevented you from continuing. He looked at you, eyes overflowing with worry, and exchanged the towel on your forehead for a fresh one, hoping it would provide at least some relief.

Once your coughing fit subsided, you were overtaken by a wave of exhaustion. Sliding back down into bed, you turned to Benedict. “I think I need to sleep if that’s alright,” you said softly, eyes already drooping shut.

“Mmm, I think so, too,” he agreed.

You reached out and grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers with his and bringing your joined hands to your chest. “Please stay, Ben,” you said, eyes already closed.

His heart nearly skipped a beat, having completely forgotten just how right your hand felt in his. “Always,” he murmured, reaching over to kiss you on the forehead. Benedict settled into the chair beside your bed, carefully watching you to make sure your breathing remained even.

An hour later, a particularly intense shiver ran through you and you woke up to find that you were still clutching Benedict’s hand. He was staring at you intently, and you felt an overwhelming sense of tenderness for him. Even though you had married Anthony, he was still here by your side, ensuring that you were safe. Even though you probably looked about two minutes away from death, and even though he probably had much more interesting things to do, he was here.

“I’m sorry, you know,” you whispered, not quite sure you wanted him to hear but needing to say it anyway.

His brow furrowed, not quite sure why you were apologizing. “It’s quite alright.”

“No, I am. I’m so sorry,” you said, barely registering the tears running down your face and mixing with your sweat.

Ben wiped away your tears with one hand, the other still holding yours. “There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he whispered.

You shook your head and the towel fell from your forehead once again, which he immediately replaced with a new one. “I don’t regret marrying him, but I regret hurting you,” you choked back a sob. “It was cowardly of me, and I’m sorry.”

Benedict was at a loss, your confession bringing his complicated feelings to the surface. But before he could find the right words, you had fallen asleep once again, eyes closed peacefully and your breathing even. He sat back in shock, attempting to process the meaning behind your words while still being careful not to move his hand too much so you could sleep peacefully.

Benedict sat there for what felt like hours, his mind in a whirlwind of emotions. Guilt weighed heavily on his heart as he watched you sleep, your hand still clasped in his. Surely you were at least a little delirious, he reasoned. How could you apologize for something he had caused?

Hours later, the morning sun filtered through your curtains and you stirred awake. You blinked your eyes open, a bit disoriented as you took in your surroundings. You glanced down, seeing Ben sitting in a chair next to your bed, fast asleep in what looked to be an incredibly uncomfortable position. Your hand was still clasped in Benedict’s, his thumb absently stroking the back of your hand. You felt a pang of guilt at the sight and cringed slightly as you remembered your tearful apology the previous night.

Sensing that you were awake, Benedict stirred, half opening his eyes to make sure you were alright. Wincing as his neck cracked, he sat up and asked groggily, “How’re you feeling this morning, darling?”

“Much better, actually,” you responded.

A sudden wave of panic washed over you. “Who’s with the children?”

“Don’t worry! They’re alright. Nurse Edwards is with them,” he assured you. “Perhaps it’s for the best; they might get to engage with some books actually meant for children.” He kept his tone light and teasing, not entirely sure if you remembered your apology and not wanting to open up the conversation if you didn’t.

“Oh, thank you,” you sighed in relief, relaxing against your pillows once again. Then, swatting his arm, you scolded, “And they enjoy the literature, mind you!”

“I suppose you are feeling better if you had the strength to hit me,” he remarked amusedly.

You rolled your eyes. “I could have hit you last night. Easily.” But your expression turned sincere. “Thank you for coming. I didn’t mean to be a burden; I know you’re working on a new piece.”

“It’s nothing,” he waved his hand. “You could never be a burden.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly, suddenly looking anywhere but at him. “And I meant what I said last night. It was ill-timed, I know, but I am truly sorry.”

“Nonsense,” he shook his head. “There is nothing to apologize for. I didn’t treat you the way I should have and I was the one who hurt you. I’m just glad I can still have you as a best friend.”

You smiled at him, pulling him into a hug. “We seem to be quite good at that, don’t you think? Being best friends.”

“Oh, the best,” he smiled at you, adoration clear in his eyes.

—

orginal ending || next part || buy me a ko-fi!

Tag List: @bellahadidnt16 @like-gabriel-and-castiel @riverraingrayworld @5sos-calm @elissanatok @titanicnerd-blog @noonenuts @moonwayne @lilasblogg @mmontgomeryb @fulltacoparadise @joyfullymulti @sopanngon @fanfiction-she-wrote @aureolinb @ambitionspassionscoffee @bbubbllejisoo @marvelspogue @avengersgirlloriannaa @loliakeoghan23 @cierrajhilll @sadprose-auroras @merlieve @khaylin27 @cherrytop02 @little-duck @angerpearl @shondlenoodle @lyssamay52 @bags10 @angerpearl

124 notes · View notes

sixteenseveredhands · 11 months

Text

Medieval Hermitage atop Katskhi Pillar, in Georgia (South Caucasus), c. 800-900 CE: this church was built during the Middle Ages; it sits atop a limestone column that has been venerated as a "Pillar of Life" for thousands of years

Known as Katskhi Pillar (or Katskhis Sveti), this enormous block of limestone is located in western Georgia, about 10km from the town of Chiatura.

The church that stands atop Katskhi Pillar was originally constructed during the 9th-10th century CE. It was long used as a hermitage for Stylites, who are sometimes referred to as "Pillar Saints" -- Christian ascetics who lived, prayed, and fasted atop pillars, often in total isolation, in an effort to bring themselves closer to God. This tradition originated in Syria during the 5th century CE, when a hermit known as Simeon the Elder purportedly climbed up onto a pillar and then stayed there for nearly 40 years, giving rise (no pun intended) to the Stylites. Stylitism managed to survive for about 1,000 years after its inception, but it gradually began to die out during the late Middle Ages, and by the end of the 16th century, it had essentially gone extinct.

Researchers don't really know how the monks originally gained access to the top of Katskhi Pillar, or how they were able to transport their building materials up to the top of the column. There's evidence that the Stylites were still living at Katskhi Pillar up until the 15th century, but the site was then abandoned shortly thereafter. This was the same period in which Georgia came under Ottoman rule, though it's unclear whether or not that may have played a role in the abandonment of the site.

The hermitage continued to lay abandoned for nearly 500 years after that. No one had been able to gain access to the top of the pillar, and very little was even known about the ruins that lay scattered at the top, as knowledge about the site's origin/history was gradually lost. There are many local legends that emerged as a way to fill in those blanks.

The site was not visited again until July 29th, 1944, when a mountaineer finally ascended to the top of the column with a small team of researchers, and the group performed the first archaeological survey of the ruins. They found that the structure included three hermit cells, a chapel, a wine cellar, and a small crypt; within the crypt lay a single set of human remains, likely belonging to one of the monks who had inhabited the site during the Middle Ages.

A metal ladder (the "stairway to Heaven") was ultimately installed into the side of the pillar, making it much easier for both researchers and tourists to gain access to these ruins.

The hermitage at the top of Katskhi Pillar actually became active again in the early 1990's, when a small group of monks attempted to revive the Stylite tradition. A Georgian Orthodox monk named Maxime Qavtaradze then lived alone at the top of Katskhi Pillar for almost 20 years, beginning in 1995 and ending with his death in 2014. He is now buried at the base of the pillar.

While the hermitage is no longer accessible to the public, and it is currently uninhabited, it's still visited by local monks, who regularly climb up to the church in order to pray. There is also an active monastery complex at the base of the pillar, where a temple known as the Church of the Simeon Stylites is located.

The Church of the Simeon Stylites: this church is located within an active monastery complex that has been built at the base of the pillar; several frescoes and religious icons decorate the walls of the church, and a small shrine containing a 6th century cross is located in the center

There are many lingering questions about the history of Katskhi Pillar, particularly during the pre-Christian era. There is at least some evidence suggesting that it was once the site of votive offerings to pagan deities, as a series of pre-Christian idols have been found buried in the areas that surround the pillar; according to local tradition, the pillar itself was once venerated by the pagan societies that inhabited the area, but it's difficult to determine the extent to which these claims may simply be part of the mythos that surrounds Katskhi Pillar, particularly given its mysterious reputation.

Sources & More Info:

BBC: Georgia's Daring, Death-Defying Pilgrimage

CNN: Katskhi Pillar, the Extraordinary Church where Daring Monks Climb Closer to God

Radio Free Europe: Georgian Monk Renews Tradition, Lives Atop Pillar

Architecture and Asceticism (Ch. 4): Stylitism as a Cultural Trend Between Syria and Georgia

Research Publication from the Georgian National Museum: Katskhi Pillar

Journal of Nomads: Katskhi Pillar, the Most Incredible Cliff Church in the World

Georgian Journal: Georgia's Katskhi Pillar Among World's 20 Wonderfully Serene and Secluded Places

#archaeology #history #anthropology #artifact #medieval architecture #medieval church #Stylites #asceticism #georgia #sakartvelo #katskhi pillar #religion #travel #monastery #paganism #caucasus #medieval europe #christianity #strange places

446 notes · View notes

jinnie-ret · 5 months

Text

oddinary house finale

vampire!jeongin x reader

genre: horror

content warnings: death, abuse, violence

word count: 4.1k

summary: y/n learns about how everyone arrived at Oddinary House after finally meeting 'Mr Yang', some bombshells being revealed along the way

so this is the final part of Oddinary House! I'm so thankful for everyone's support along the way as this is the first time I've indulged in writing horror. It's been so fun making this storyline and I'm glad you've all enjoyed it. This probably won't be the end of this series ;)

ODDINARY HOUSE MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

He was charming in his nature, how he so elegantly leant back in his chair, one leg folded over the other as he tilted his head at her. His smug, teasing smirk rested on his face in a thin line, eyes squinting slightly with a quirked brow.

"Welcome, to Oddinary House, Y/N, glad to properly meet you, you certainly are a character, aren't you? He chuckles, making the others laugh, as they nodded their heads in agreement, glancing across at you.

You were speechless. Maybe it was from seeing all 8 of them in front of you, finally. All 8 of the residents right here. Or maybe it was the charisma he exuded, a clear controlling, leader-like role about him.

"I can see you're confused dear, but why? 'Mr Yang'? Oh come on, you must remember me from the letter that Changbin so cleverly conjured in your dreams," he chuckled, finding your frozen astonished figure quite amusing.

"Don't worry, Innie, she's done this with everyone," Changbin chuckled, brushing his fingers through your hair to rouse you out of your startled state. And oh, how your hair sparkled after, a golden hue to it.

"Oh well that doesn't surprise me," Mr Yang leans forwards, his long fingers wrapping around the glass that Felix had crafted for him, some... red wine(?) already poured for him.

"Why have I only met you now?" Y/N could barely keep eye contact with the man that sat at the head of the table, hands fidgeting with each other. Noticing her discomfort, and smelling it too, Minho rubbed his head against her shoulder soothingly, sending a glare to any of the boys that gave him a teasing look. He had certainly mellowed over the years they had all known each other.

"Don't get shy on me now, darling, you are very much meant to be here so I want you to be comfortable. As for meeting me, well, I wanted to see how you fit with everyone else. You've had quite the time here already," Mr Yang sincerely said, taking a sip of his drink.

"Mr Yang..." Y/N began before she was cut off.

"Call me Jeongin, no need for formalities," Jeongin nodded at her, looking down as he shook his head, already finding himself feeling fond of her.

"Right... Jeongin, I just, ok, it's nice to finally meet you," Y/N nodded over at him, a small smile on her face, feeling more relaxed now with the help of the other guys.

"Yah! That's not fair, she's so nice to you already, we didn't get that!" Jisung whined, leaning around Changbin with a pout.

"Jisung is feeling jealous," Chan robotically announced, as he analysed the chupacabra.

"Yah, Chan!" Jisung covered his face now, feeling embarrassed as everyone, Y/N included, giggled at his misfortune of being exposed like that.

"It's only natural, Jisungie," Jeongin laughed, swirling around his drink. And the man with chubby cheeks just leant back into his chair, laughing slightly now at the situation.

"So... Jeongin you're a, vampire right?" Y/N questioned, thinking about how he transformed right in front of her.

"Oh that's right," Jeongin out down his glass momentarily to applaud her with a mocking smile. "I have my stupid bat form, as you so nicely said," he chuckled afterwards.

"Ah, sorry," Y/N facepalmed, embarrassed at how she had insulted him before, unintentionally at least.

"Oh it's no trouble, god knows I've dealt with worse from this lot over the years," Jeongin sighed wistfully, a small smile on his face.

"How long exactly have you known each other?" Y/N asked curiously, from their banter she could tell they seemed pretty close.

"Ah, well, it depends, you see, some of us have known each other much longer than others," Jeongin nodded, sharing a nod across the table with Seungmin as they both grinned.

"Well, I'd be willing to listen, if you tell me. Felix told me some things but I know there must have been much more things that have happened in this house," Y/N leant forward in her chair, arms resting on the table as she looked around at everyone.

"Might asssss well put her out of her misssery," Hyunjin hissed with a giggle, startling Y/N, she had never seen this guy smile before.

"Get ready for a long history lesson, darling," Minho chuckled, leaning back in his chair. He himself had had this conversation with the boys, many years ago.

"Right well, I'll start, it only makes sense," Jeongin began to talk. "From the very start it was just me here with my family, hundreds of years ago now actually..."

"Hundreds of years?! You look about 22/23 years old to me!" Y/N gasped.

"He's a vampire, you silly," Seungmin shook his head with a laugh.

"Now now, I will take that as a compliment, I am actually 325 years old," Jeongin kindly informed her, before continuing his story. "I came from quite a rich bloodline of vampires, and so all that time ago, we bought this mansion. Miroh Mansion, I believe it was called back then, but that was when this city was still separated into districts..."

"Jeongin she won't care about the city history, she wants to know about us," Han groaned.

"Y/N is interested," Chan announced, once again, catching Jisung out.

"Yah why do you always do this to me?!" Jisung complained, keeping his head rested against the table.

"Stop being impatient Sungie, eventually we'll get to your part of the story," Changbin sarcastically coos over him, patting his head.

"Jeongin, carry on please," Y/N kindly nodded, and so the vampire continued.

"Yes, well, like I said it was just me and my family here for a while. There was around 5 generations of us here, I believe. And it was like that for a while, until we had found Seungmin in the lake outside, terrified," Jeongin gestured for Seungmin to continue.

"Rightfully so!" Seungmin held his hands up in defense. "It's not everyday that someone threatens to rip out your vocal cords just so they can have your voice!"

"They wanted to what?!" Y/N gasped, hand over her mouth as she processed the statement that just came out of the siren's mouth.

"Actually it did happen on a few occasions... but this was the worst one. Luckily I managed to flee my homeland and found Oddinary House, thanks to Jeongin and his father. Their family kept me protected, Y/N," Seungmin explained.

"We did. Nothing says leave someone alone like the threat of draining them of their lives. Although, I have to say, siren blood isn't my favourite," Jeongin pondered.

"What is your favourite then?" Y/N rose a brow, hoping he wouldn't say...

"Probably human blood," Jeongin admitted, laughing when he saw her face pale at the mention. "You needn't worry Y/N, that doesn't affect you."

"Right... Ok, so then what happened?" Y/N tried to brush off the fact that her blood was favourable, despite Jeongin's words of reassurement.

"Ah, yes. My father decided our house be a refuge point for creatures in danger. This house was always too big for just my family, it didn't hurt having others join and stay here," Jeongin explained.

"Wow, so that's how everyone ended up here? That's a good thing your family did, Jeongin," Y/N commended him.

"You're half right, it wasn't that easy though," Felix sighed, fiddling with his fingers.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Felix, is this when you lost your..."

"Yes, I'll let Jeongin explain that part. But, as you may remember I arrived here as part of my duty. I was sent to look after the vampires and heal them if they weren't drinking enough blood. And I helped Seungmin adjust to living here too, as well as a lot of new residents that the house looked after," Felix reflected on his old self, one that could heal others.

"Yes I do remember you saying that!" Y/N nodded. "How exactly did you lose your ability though?" she winced as she saw the downcast look on Felix's face.

"There was a big battle. The Battle of Yellow Wood, we call it. There was an opposing vampire clan that were closing in on us from the outside of the city. We lost a lot of our residents that day," Jeongin frowned, rubbing his chin.

"So all those new residents...?" Y/N trailed off, feeling sad for the losses this house had experienced.

"Gone, just like that," Seungmin confirmed, his expression mirroring Jeongin's.

"Every single vampire in the Yang clan, killed, heartlessly," Jeongin growled, hand tightening around the stem of his wine glass, Felix gently peeling his hand away, to soothe him but to also prevent his hard work from being broken. He spent a long time crafting the perfect glass.

"Oh, Jeongin, your family, your parents... I'm so sorry," Y/N felt herself getting upset for him.

"No need to apologise, Y/N it wasn't you that took them away from me," Jeongin straightened up in his chair, putting a smile back on his face.

"But Felix..."

"I really did try my best to heal others along the way. I was exhausted. Didn't get too lucky myself, I attempted to heal myself and well... it drained my magical core," Felix sniffled lightly. The memories always hurt whenever he thought back on them. He had lost a part of himself that day. Everyone had.

What was more shocking was how without looking, not that he really could, Hyunjin reached a hand around Seungmin to pat Felix on the back in support. No wonder Felix defended him, they must be quite close.

"Oh Felix..." Y/N pouted seeing him so sad.

"It was just the three of us left. We tried looking around to see if any of our residents, our friends, were still alive, but there was no hope. That was when me and Jeongin found Jisung," Seungmin continued, changing the topic away from Felix which the fairy certainly appreciated.

"That makes me sound like such a stray. But yeah... Jeongin and Seungmin found me after a ritual went wrong," Jisung bit his lip, blushing slightly feeling embarrassed. Minho laughed, knowing where this was going.

"A ritual went wrong? But you seemed to know what you were doing, it went well with me at least!" Y/N tried to make him feel better but he shrank into his seat even more.

"I tried to gain some powers to let me... aish, it's too embarrassing," Jisung whined.

"He tried to create and endless amount of cheesecake," Minho burst out into laughter, Y/N giggling with him too.

"Cheesecake is so good though," she laughed as she nodded along.

"Right! I just wanted to have it always there but yeah... I kinda forgot the right words and banished myself from my 'cabra pack," Jisung scratched his neck sheepishly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, that must have been hard," Y/N tried to sympathise but she still grinned at the thought of why things went the way they did.

"It's ok, wasn't the worst, I wasn't really close to anyone in the pack, I prefer my own space. It was more getting used to this world which was difficult," Jisung shrugged.

"That's why we took him in, let him stay here. He really didn't have a clue what was going on," Seungmin smirked.

"Felix said something about Jisung doing a ritual to keep him alive?" Y/N remembered what else Felix had told her.

"Yes, we put our trust in Jisung to keep Felix alive, we didn't want to lose him too," Jeongin nodded, "but we made sure he knew what he was saying this time. Otherwise we could have had a cheesecake fairy on our hands."

Everyone laughed at that.

"Now we have a brownie fairy instead," Chan humanely laughed, the thought of Felix's baking skills made something light up in his brain.

"Oh I love brownies!" Y/N cheered loudly, some of the guys wincing at how loud it was but they didn't say anything, just smiled at her enthusiasm.

"I'll make some soon, give you a proper welcoming," Felix grinned back at her excitedly.

"Thanks!"

"After that, with it being the 4 of us, I swore to carry on my father's legacy, to make this a safe place for those who were lost," Jeongin continued.

"Wow! So who did you meet next?" Y/N rested her head on her hand.

"It wasss me, dear," Hyunjin smirked, before he soon wore his cold expression again.

"How did you, find your way here?" Y/N wondered out loud.

"Issss that a blind joke?" Hyunjin teased, pretending to be mad.

"N-no, just ummm, wondering..." Y/N froze, not wanting to anger Hyunjin or get on his wrong side again.

"Do not fret, you already passsssed my tessst," Hyunjin laughed at her. "I arrived here to ssseek refuge, just like they offered. I had no place, people usssed to treat me a certain way for my lookssss, and sssince my eyessss were forcefully taken, I wasss desssired lessss so. I prefer it that way, people are ssssso ssssshallow."

"I wish I could have healed you and let you see again, you know that right?" Felix leant back in his seat to see Hyunjin's face.

"Don't worry, little fairy, I am content asssss I am," Hyunjin nodded.

"Next it was me who arrived," Changbin spoke up from next to Y/N.

"Really?" Y/N asked.

"Why so shocked?" Changbin held a hand over his heart, feigning offense.

"I just thought you'd be busy with your duties of bringing dreams to everyone, that's all," Y/N shrugged, tracing patterns of golden dust on the table.

"Busy, I was. I was just so well sought after by the guys here," the sandman proudly smirked, sticking out his chest as he folded his arms.

"You give yourself too much credit," Seungmin waved him off.

"He had spent a lot of time here before moving in. Us monsters... We come with a lot of baggage, memories that creep up on us in the night. Changbin helped us..." Jeongin trailed off, looking at Y/N and hoping she'd realise.

"Just like he helped me..."

"That's right," Changbin patted her hand once more, thinking it was sweet that she was now so relaxed in their presence that she was doodling little pictures.

"Albeit was quite creepy, seeing you loom over Hyunjin like that when I met you," Jeongin said quite frankly.

"Yeah, you perv," Hyunjin joked, his pronged tongue sticking out between his lips.

"Yah!" Changbin whined, kicking the basilisk under the table.

"Changbin thinks he is not a pervert. He just thinks Hyunjin is very handsome and funny," Chan's face shifted into a smile as he analysed Changbin this time, and not Jisung.

"See! Now you know how it feels!" Jisung stood up and ruffled Changbin's hair smugly.

"Yeah, yeah... well I decided it would make more sense for me to stay here as my base, and then I leave in the night once everyone here is asleep," Changbin shrugged.

"It does make sense, being on the outskirts of the city here, it's a good place," Y/N nodded.

"Then I came along, that's why you're so graced in my presence, dear," Minho scratched under Y/N's chin, bringing her attention to him.

"Here we go..." Seungmin muttered, looking done with life as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"There was someone from the Yellow Wood clan still alive," Jeongin pitched in, giving some context before Minho could continue bragging, "they knew I was still alive. They wanted to finish the job."

"Finish the job? Oh lord..." Y/N shook her head, realising just how much this group had been through.

"The lord wouldn't have been much help, good thing I decided I wanted to live here otherwise Seungmin would have been a nice big of fried fish," Minho teased the siren.

"Call me a fish one more time-"

"Silence," Jeongin quietened them down immediately. "Explain properly, Minho, maybe without your biased perspective, this time."

"Fine," the werewolf rolled his eyes. "I had been trying to sus out if this place was safe or not, and I was here on the right night. That last vampire from the Yellow Wood clan absolutely reeked of death, I knew he was up to no good. He came through the back way of the garden and I saw straight away he spotted Seungmin."

"Smelt of... death?" Y/N shuddered, her nose scrunched up at the thought. "Wait, what do I smell like?"

"Hmmm," Minho sniffed the air for a moment, "not of a lot actually, but kind of earthy, I'd say."

"Earthy?" Y/N didn't expect it but nodded anyways.

"... but as I was saying, I could tell he had bad intentions, and I knew Seungmin was one of the good ones. I did what any normal being would do," Minho left the answer hanging in the air.

"And that was...?" Y/N shifted her body towards him, wanting to know.

"Tore his body to bits. That was the end of the Yellow Wood clan," Minho bared his sharp, pearly canines as he grinned.

"So that means the last person to arrive was..." Y/N turned to Bang Chan who was at the end of the table.

"You are correct. It was me," Chan nodded statically. "These guys saved me."

"Our Chan can be so cheesy," Jeongin chuckled, looking over at the cyborg sat at the other end of the table, watching as his eyes glowed trying to retrieve the memories he had pushed so far back.

"I was experimented on by a group of mad scientists. They wanted a robot who would think like a human. Instead I am a human who thinks like a robot," Chan soulessly explained.

"Oh Chan," Y/N sighed sadly at what happened to him.

"He does have his human side come out in him sometimes though," Jeongin added.

"So you're human too, Chan?" Y/N asked him, feeling nice she could relate to someone in that sense. Perhaps she'd have to ask him about his life before, if he was comfortable with it.

"Human too? Variables in front of me are not valid. I was human. You are-" Chan rambled, before Hyunjin whacked him on the metal part of his head to stop him talking.

That must have been why they thought to take her in, right? If it was initially a place for monsters to seek refuge, and they helped Chan who was half human, they must have thought it was acceptable to help her out after seeing her past.

"So that's why I'm here, right? Because you saw I needed help. Because I'm human too, like Chan sort of is..." Y/N looked around at all of them for some help to her questions.

"Y/N is a banshee," Chan spoke before anyone had the chance to stop him from talking again.

"Chan!" Jeongin facepalmed seeing Y/N freeze in shock at the statement.

"We weren't going to tell her yet, bro," Jisung covered his eyes, unable to watch.

Y/N couldn't believe it. She wanted to think it was some sort of prank but she knew Chan enough by now that he saw what he saw, and he was never wrong. But... a banshee? She knew what it was, of course she did. It just didn't make sense. All her life she assumed she was normal, she didn't even really think monsters existed fully until she met the guys at the house.

Minho subtly released some of his calming pheromones to soothe the increasingly stressed girl from beside him. Not that she'd know he did anyways, but it would help. From the other side of Y/N, Changbin rubbed her back with one hand, the other braced against his satchel in case she got too panicked and he needed to send her into a sleep.

"A banshee?" Y/N gasped.

"Please, don't worry," Felix sadly watched her.

"B-but... how? I dont-" Y/N tripped over her words, not fully understanding.

"We'll explain for you, ok? We didn't want to tell you now and overwhelm you with information but..." Jeongin sighed, slightly frustrated because they had all just told her about their own backstories, and now she was here learning her truth.

"I knew were different since the first time I passed by your house, Y/N," Changbin rested his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently to bring her attention to him. "You were a young, scared kid, and I heard your cries. They were not that of a human."

"How long have you known me for?" Y/N blinked her tears away, turning to him.

"Perhaps longer than I have known these guys right here. Certainly longer than I have known Chan," Changbin stated, lips pressed together in thought.

"You knew me when I was a kid... So you... You really do know everything, don't you?" Y/N shook her head, trying to stop her memories from surfacing.

"We all know," Jisung peered his head round at Y/N, sending her a sad smile.

"I was there, on duty, on the night of your mother's passing," Changbin tried to say gently, Y/N squeezing her eyes shut at the dark memories that swarmed her mind. "Do you... do you want me to stop?"

Y/N rubbed her temples, getting a headache from this information but she wouldn't let herself stop there. She needed to know.

"No, I... I need to know," she wiped her tears away.

"Ok, if you're sure.." Changbin waited for her to nod again before he continued. "I stopped by your house, normally you would be asleep by this time I'd come to see you, but you were curled up in bed, keening."

"Keening? What's that?" Y/N was confused.

"Keening is a habit that banshees do when... they sing a song before someone dies."

"Oh god..." Y/N covered her mouth. That night, that fateful night her mother was killed by her monster of a father, she had been singing her mother's favourite song to block out all the screams and cries from her mind. She hadn't known it was because she was a banshee. She didn't know it was a clear sign when she had been... keening. She should have known.

"Sit," Minho brought her to sit back down in her chair, nosing at her neck comfortingly. The girl hadn't even realised she stood from the nausea of her realisation.

"I thought... I thought it happened in the morning. I didn't dare leave my room. I didn't know when I was humming to myself that it would happen in that moment," Y/N cried into her hands, shoulders lifting as she sniffled and took in some breaths.

"That's exactly it, dear, you weren't to know," Jeongin shook his head. Everyone had a story.

"You were so connected to my singing, but you were able to withstand it. Normally any human wouldn't be able to leave the trance for a while. But you broke out of it," Seungmin quietly spoke up from opposite her, reaching his hands across to grasp hers gently.

"Because of my... k-keening, right?" Y/N shakily asked, coming to terms as more and more details made sense.

"Exactly," Felix smiled at her, some pride in his eyes as she was beginning to understand who she was.

"How do you guys even know so much about banshees?" Y/N pulled her hands away from the siren to wipe her eyes.

"We've seen a lot of them in our time here, dear," Jeongin spoke softly.

There was a reason for everything. She was never truly scared to come to Oddinary House. Perhaps it was because the true monsters in her life weren't those different beings sat in front of her, but the ones who were closest to her. Her father. The things that knew her the best, the thoughts in her mind.

"So, what do you say, banshee? You make us stay. You're the reason we want to help others, help them escape. To find safe places like here," Jeongin wanted to truly know if she was comfortable here, if she wanted to remain living with them as they help her understand who she is.

Y/N took in a deep breath, looking around at everyone she was sat with, the ones who she had met and some misjudged. The cyborg, the werewolf, the sandman, the basilisk, the chupacabra, the fairy, the siren and of course the head of house, the vampire.

"I'll stay."

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @hanjiquokkaaa @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @amararosesblog @ikykwkleeknoww @lixie-phoria @briqnne

#skz #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fic #oddinary house #chan x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader

158 notes · View notes