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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 1 year

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Studious II (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) 18+

After your last coupling, Prince Aemond has been acting quite strangely toward you. It doesn't make sorting out your own feeling for him any easier...

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: smut (kinda?) , male masturbation, female masturbation (attempted), more Aegon commentary, more Aemond awkwardness

Author's Note: WOW, I was not expecting anyone to like my awkward Aemond brain dump, but boy howdy did y'all... I hope this lives up to the hype!

Read Part I Here - Read Part III Here - Read Part IV Here

My Masterlist

Taglist below the cut

Studious II

The day after his marriage, utterly distraught by the look of confusion and dissatisfaction on his wife’s face after the bedding, Prince Aemond Targaryen came to terms with the fact that he desperately needed help. And though it went against every instinct he had to ask for it, he would much rather admit this weakness – this shortcoming – than suffer seeing that disappointment on her sweet face each time he came to her.

He went to Grand Maester Orwyle first. For while he had taken a vow of chastity, his knowledge of anatomy would be more than useful. Besides, he had always been kind and patient with Aemond during their lessons in his youth – he would not judge the Prince for this failing.

For more practical knowledge, he asked Lord Jasper Wylde, his father’s Master of Laws. His long-held position on the Small Council proved he could be trusted. More than that, the man had seeded twenty-seven surviving legitimate children thus far, and another was soon expected. ‘Ironrod’ clearly knew what he was doing.

Lastly, Aemond reluctantly enlisted the help of his older brother. He had his doubts about whether Aegon actually knew anything useful. Still, no one could deny that he had more relevant experience than anyone in King’s Landing who was not a whore.

Aemond listened to their advice diligently, as if it were no different from anything else he had studied. And, like always, he had been a good student.

The glorious sounds his wife had made when he started putting his lessons to use still echoed in his mind. The gentle whine when he had kissed her. The sharp inhale when he had started caressing her. The shiver that ran through her when he found her ‘pearl,’ as Aegon had called it. And her delicious gasp when he found that sweet spot inside her.

But there were other sounds – worse sounds. The alarm in her voice after he had brushed his tongue against her lips. Her confusion as to why he was touching her at all. How her eyes had gone wide with panic when he began to pleasure her, and how she had begged him to stop.

And every time he closed his eyes, he saw her hiding her face in her pillows after he smiled at seeing her find her own pleasure as he thrust into her – as though the very idea of enjoying being with him was something incomprehensible. Like it scared her.

She hadn’t wanted to look at him, kiss him, or be pleased by him. And she hadn’t come.

So, he assembled his advisors the next day, seeking some explanation of what he had done wrong. Or new instructions on how to please her in a way she wouldn’t eschew.

They had quickly decided the solution wasn’t some new technique, but for Aemond to ‘woo’ her.

The prospect at once delighted and terrified him.

At least he had advisors to help him figure out how.

Indeed, Lord Wylde had taken on the demeanour of a man plotting a war. He asked Aemond to list every detail he knew about his new bride and wrote everything he said word-for-word on a piece of parchment, along with his own commentary and musings on strategies.

Aegon’s comments and observations, mostly concerning her breasts, were not written down.

But the elder Prince did not mind, as he was quickly distracted by his own interrogation of Grand Maester Orwyle. He wanted to know precisely when, why, and how the Maester had pleasured Helaena.

Once Orwyle finished giving him the details, it was clear the Prince was far more impressed than offended. When Aegon finally turned back to the matter at hand, the Maester said a silent prayer of thanks that he was not going to lose his head.

After more than an hour of strategising, they had devised several courses of action for Aemond to try.

“She will be so enamoured by you that you won’t even have to touch her to get her to come,” Aegon declared proudly.

Orwyle and Wylde winced at the Prince’s crass words, but could not deny they also felt confident in the plan.

Aemond growled at his brother, eye blazing with rage. “This isn’t just about sex, Aegon. I want... I want her to like me.”

He sighed and slumped in his chair, running a hand over his flushed face. While he would never admit it aloud, he wanted so much more than to just be liked by his wife.

He wanted her to feel the same thing he felt exploding in his chest every time he looked at her. The intensity of the feeling was more frightening than losing his eye had been. And more thrilling than his first flight on Vhagar.

More than anything, he wanted her to love him – as he loved her.

But as his fingers grazed the leather strap of his eyepatch, he knew it was an impossible dream.

She was so beautiful. So gentle and kind. So pure and full of light.

He was monstrous. In the years since losing his eye, he had become as hideous in his soul as he was in the flesh. He had delved so deep into the darkness of his anger, resentment, and hatred that he knew there was no escape.

Until she had come into his life.

From the first moment he saw her step out of her father’s carriage, he knew that if she looked on him affectionately and allowed her holy light to shine upon him just once… perhaps he could be saved from damnation.

“I need her to like me,” he sighed, feeling not like the fearsome Prince and warrior he was, but like a whimpering, desperate child.

A dozen snide, and admittedly quite witty, comments died on Aegon’s lips. Once, he would not have hesitated to say them, to laugh at the hurt in his brother’s eyes.

But that was before Driftmark.

Before he had failed to protect Aemond from their bastard nephews – spurred on by the very teasing Aegon had once led them in. Though he wasn’t there when the eye was actually cut, he knew that if he hadn’t been such a twat before then, his brother would be whole.

He would still be an awkward, pathetic mess with no clue how to fuck a woman properly, but… he wouldn’t think himself so unworthy of his wife.

“Well,” Aegon drawled, slipping back into the mask of the blithe, carefree Prince everyone knew him to be. “I think we can at least manage ‘like.’ Now, get off your brooding ass, woo the girl, and make her come!”

You sat comfortably in a secluded corner of the Red Keep’s library, reading the book you had been forced to set down after your husband’s arrival in your chambers the night before.

Libraries were all the same, no matter where they were. The peaceful quiet interrupted only by the turning of heavy pages every so often. The soft shafts of yellow sunlight streaming through the small windows – stained glass, if you were lucky. The smell of old paper and well-worn leather.

It was far too easy to imagine you were back in your father’s library at home. Even better, this little corner you found felt as private as your own rooms.

More private, perhaps. Here, Prince Aemond could not barge in requesting you perform your marital duties.

Or so you thought.

A shadow stopped in front of you, blocking out the mottled sunlight you were using to read. Thinking that perhaps it was later than you’d thought, and one of the Maesters had come to tell you that you’d once again stayed past the library curfew, you looked up with a polite smile.

And met the single violet eye of your husband.

“Good afternoon, wife,” he greeted, dipping his head slightly and giving a decidedly awkward smile.

With his dimples, he was very nearly handsome when he smiled. But it did not quite reach his eye, and his brow was set too hard for you to truly see him as such.

Blinking rapidly as you tried to quickly hide your disappointment that your private reading spot was discovered, you returned the smile as best you could. “Husband.”

Aemond stared at you as though he expected more, as was apparently his habit, but you only stared back.

Why should it fall to you to put more effort into the marriage than he did?

Finally, he cleared his throat slightly. “I was wondering if I may join you in your reading? I noticed last night that you were reading Valyrian history. It is a favourite subject of mine.”

Indeed, you had begun studying the history of House Targaryen more in-depth the moment your betrothal was announced. You wanted to familiarise yourself with the family you were to join.

Though your ideas about becoming a true member of the family faded quickly, you continued your research. As much as the disappointment of your marriage had made you loathe to admit it, it was a fascinating history.

But now it meant Aemond wanted to read with you…

“I am sure you’ve read this particular history before,” you said, shyly showing him the title. It was little more than a beginner’s primer, almost more a storybook than a proper history, but you had to start somewhere. “Would you not rather read something more… novel?”

He laughed slightly, and you realised you had just unintentionally made a play on words. And not even a particularly clever one.

“Seeing my family’s history through your eyes would be quite ‘novel,’ as you so cleverly put it,” he replied, obviously quite determined, if he was willing to compliment you.

Was that… the first compliment he ever gave you?

When he smiled at you like that, it brought you back to the way he smiled when he had done… whatever it was he had done while he was inside you that made your vision burst into stars.

You blushed as heat pooled in your stomach at the memory, and the feelings that came with it. Your feelings about him, which you hadn’t yet allowed yourself to sort through – if you even wanted to.

He had made you feel so small and unwanted in the training yard when he grimaced and ran away from you. But then he had touched you so gently and gazed at you reverently at your slight gasp of pleasure like it was as beautiful a sound as he’d ever heard.

And then he left. Again.

But that was what you wanted – wasn’t it?

You had no idea what you wanted. And right now, figuring it out wasn’t your primary concern.

What he wanted from you was.

You prayed it was honestly just to discuss history.

So, you smiled as genuinely as you could and gestured to the seat across from you. “Then I would be… happy to have you join me.”

His eye lingered slightly on the seat next to you, but he nodded and took the seat you indicated.

You looked at him. He looked at you.

“Should I…” you began, at the exact moment he opened his mouth to speak.

You looked down, clamping your lips shut to let him speak first – as a good wife does.

He let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh before setting his hand on the table. You watched as he flexed his fingers, wondering for a moment if he wanted you to reach out as well – if he wanted to hold your hand.

It was a ridiculous thought. One you silently scolded yourself for as you gripped the book harder, keeping your hands firmly where they were.

Silence fell as he mulled over his words, the left corner of his mouth twitching every so often as though he had almost decided what to say. Not wanting to interrupt, you simply sat there, pondering how uncomfortable you had become in this once-soothing place.

When it was just you, you savoured the silence. When he was here, you abhorred it.

“Do you have any questions?” Aemond asked, finally breaking the silence.

His words confused you. Was he referring to the book or to him? You had so many questions about what he had done last night, though you were more than a little afraid to ask them.

“What kind of questions should I have?” you replied, ashamed by how small your voice came out. Hopefully, he interpreted it as respect for the library.

He quirked his head, his lips again spreading in that not-quite smile, not-quite frown he often made after you had said something to him. Then, on the table, his hand curled into a fist.

“Just…” he gestured to the book. “Questions about what you don’t understand. I would be more than happy to help you.”

If your mind had been clearer, perhaps you would have seen the offer for what it was: a genuine desire to help and, perhaps, a way to get to know you better.

But something about Aemond clouded all your good sense as thoroughly as a stormy sea.

Your brow instantly furrowed in anger. Did he really think you were so stupid you could not understand a simple book meant for children?

“I have no questions,” you said coldly, your voice louder and harder than before.

Aemond blinked, his eye widening as he reached further across the table toward you. “I… I have studied the histories extensively, and I know they are complicated and difficult to understand. If there is anything that you are struggling with, or – ”

“Of course,” you cut him off. All your mother’s advice about how to be a good, dutiful wife was long forgotten as your anger rose higher and higher. “It is quite a difficult book. The words, I’m afraid, are well past my simple understanding. I’ve actually only been looking at the illustrations.”

His face was frozen, his eye wide, and his mouth hanging slightly open. He looked remarkably like a freshly caught fish. You laughed at the thought, slammed the book shut, and stood.

“Although,” you hissed. “Even the pictures have started to become too ‘complicated’ for me. I’m afraid my headache is returning.”

He finally blinked and leaned across the table, truly reaching for your hand now. “No… I didn’t…”

You stepped away, harshly pulling your hand away from his. “If you will excuse me, husband. I must rest before the evening meal, or else I fear I will be too exhausted to participate in any intelligent conversation.”

That look of hurt again came over Aemond’s face, but you were far too angry to care. As you stomped out of the library, you did look back at him once.

If you had, you would have seen him slump over in his chair with his head in his hands before he pounded his clenched fist against the wood table, earning quite the scolding from a nearby Maester.

You once again did not attend the evening meal with Aemond and his family.

It had been a hard decision to come to. You had even dressed before finally deciding to remain in your rooms. But in the end, you supposed that the consequences of missing a second night would be easier to endure than an evening sitting next to your husband.

Your husband, who so obviously disliked you and thought you were an idiot.

That was what he had insinuated, wasn’t it? Why else would he have offered you help in understanding a children’s history book?

It was stupid of you to even want to read about Targaryen history, you scolded yourself. It was little more than a repetitive tale of countless generations of dragonriders who all shared the same handful of names. A stupid story about a stupid civilisation.

But as you sat at your desk eating your solitary meal, you couldn’t help but wish you hadn’t left the book in the library.

You contemplated sending one of your maids to fetch it, but you had no doubt Aemond would hear about it. That is, if he hadn’t just taken it himself.

Oh gods, what if he had?

He would find the notes you had made and tucked into the cover – including the family tree you sketched to keep all the names straight. It would only confirm his suspicions about your intellect.

You could picture his smug smile when he found the notes. The way the corners of his mouth would lift just enough to expose his dimples. There would be an arrogant twinkle in that violet eye. Perhaps he would be so amused by his simple-minded wife that he would have to bite his lip to hold back a laugh. Those lovely pink lips that had felt so soft on yours…

Shaking your head violently to banish the foolish, lustful thoughts, you took a long drink of your wine. Hopefully, it would soothe your nerves enough for you to think about anything but Aemond. Or at least enough to calm your breathing and banish the heat that bloomed beneath your thighs.

Once again, you lost your appetite and sent your meal away only half-eaten.

You needed to pray.

That was the only answer. The only way you could rid your mind of these horrible, sinful thoughts.

You had only just grabbed your copy of The Seven-Pointed Star when there was a knock at the door.

Not again.

“Who is it?” you asked, heart pounding with both nervousness and anticipation.

“It is Grand Maester Orwyle, Princess,” came an unfamiliar voice. “The Queen sent word you were unwell.”

A great wave of relief and disappointment washed over you, your book falling to the floor as your hands went slack. “Yes, come in,” you called.

Then, to yourself, you whispered, “I am quite unwell, indeed.”

The next afternoon, you sat comfortably on your couch, still in your nightgown and robe. It was improper, yes. But after assessing you in your somewhat panicked state the night before, Orwyle commanded you be relieved of your duties for the next few days.

‘Duties’ was a strong word, as your responsibilities only required you to stand silently next to your husband at court and gossip with the Ladies in the afternoon.

Still, you were glad to be rid of them, even if only for a few days. You had plans to go to Sept and pray and to sort out your feelings for your husband – the frightening, complicated feelings that had you so rattled that the Grand Maester himself thought you to be genuinely ill.

But not today.

Today, you would simply rest, drink your chamomile tea, and read the books your maid had fetched from the library.

None of them were history books. That had been the one requirement you had. Well, that and no romance.

So, as you sipped your tea, you allowed yourself to fall into the world of your book – a world of grand adventure, mythical beasts, and a pirate lord with a dashing smile and eyepatch…

Damn.

You threw the book aside, dangerously near the lit hearth, and crossed your arms. But before you could get too far into your wallowing, there was a knock at your door. Again.

“Who is it?” you called, eyes blazing as though you could see through the wood and smite whoever stood behind the door.

There was silence.

“It is Aemond,” came his soft, melodic voice. “May I please come in?”

You clenched your jaw, willing yourself to say ‘no. No, I don’t want to see you.’

“Yes, you may,” your voice said instead. You baulked, unsure how the words came out so wrong.

The moment he stepped through the door, you turned your eyes down. You didn’t want to look at him, for you knew if you did, your logic would abandon you as whatever it was you felt for him overcame you.

But then you caught a flash of bright pink, and your head snapped up.

Aemond was carrying a small bouquet of dog roses, your favourite flower.

The large blooms were the most vibrant pink you had ever seen, perhaps even more so than in the fields where they grew back at home. Even the dot of yellow in their centres seemed as bright as the sun.

They seemed so out of place against the wall of black leather that was Aemond.

Slowly, you looked up from the flowers to face your husband. He had crossed the room to stand before you – awkwardly, as always. His lips were pursed, and his brow set in a deep furrow.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly and quietly, stiffly holding the flowers out to you. “For what I said yesterday.”

You did not move to take them. Did not blink. Did not breathe.

“I did not mean to offend you,” he continued, arm still extended. With the flowers only inches from your face, you could see how tightly he held the stems – his knuckles were bone white. “I spoke without thinking, and my words did not accurately reflect my intentions. I only meant – ”

His voice faltered as you reached up for the flowers. You did not want him to snap the stems. They would die more quickly if he did.

As your fingers brushed his, he flinched, dropping the flowers unceremoniously onto your lap. You immediately grabbed them, carefully examining each bloom to ensure it was not damaged. Thankfully, they were intact.

You stared and stared at them, memories flooding your mind. Every year, your entire family would journey to the fields where the dog roses bloomed. First, you would picnic together in the grass, the happiest meal of the year. Then, when you were finished, you and your siblings would race to examine each flower, competing to see who could find the loveliest bloom.

They would do so without you this year.

Distantly, you heard Aemond saying your name, drawing your attention back to him. He was frowning, his brow crumpled. “I thought…” he whispered, “I thought you would like them.”

You blinked, confused by his words. But the motion sent the tears welling in your eyes spilling down your cheeks. You were so caught up in your memories you did not notice you were crying.

As you looked back down at the flowers, you missed the subtle movement of Aemond’s hand, reaching out to wipe the tears away. Instead, when you moved away, he clenched his fist so tightly that his nails began to bite into his palm.

“I miss home,” was all you could say before the tears began to fall in earnest.

Aemond stepped back, bumping into the low table before the couch. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “I did not mean to upset you.”

Then he turned, stumbling into the table once more, and left.

As the sound of the shutting door echoed in your mind, you did not know whether you were still crying from your homesickness, or because he had left you again.

After Aemond left, and you had finally stopped crying, you had one of your maids set the bouquet in a vase. But not before you had carefully inspected each stem to be sure they were intact.

Somehow, they were.

You put the vase on your vanity where the flowers could catch the sunlight before crawling into your bed, intending to take a nap after what was an unintentionally exhausting morning.

But you did not find sleep.

Instead, you stared at the ceiling, thinking over what Aemond said.

He had apologised for making you feel stupid, and then you immediately cried over flowers.

You had never felt more stupid.

And now you felt like you needed to apologise.

So, despite having Orwyle’s official permission to skip all your obligations, you finally rose from your bed as the sun set and asked your maids to dress you for dinner.

Because you made your decision to attend the evening meal at the last minute, the rest of the family had already begun eating when you arrived.

Aemond, who sat facing the door, was the first to see you. His eye immediately went wide, and he stood so quickly that a servant had to catch his chair before it toppled to the ground.

Aegon began laughing hysterically.

Queen Alicent shushed him once before she stood, giving you a mildly concerned but otherwise pleasant smile. “I’m so glad you could join us, my dear,” she said pleasantly as she gestured for you to sit. “We were beginning to worry about you.”

“I have simply been tired,” you assured her as you slowly walked around the table to your place. Curious, they had still set a place for you, despite your missing the last two meals. “Adjusting to life at court has been more difficult than I thought.”

As you came to stand before your chair, Aemond held a hand out to help you sit. Then, just as you had only hours before, you looked from his hand to his face. His brow was still set in a furrow, but he was almost smiling.

You took his hand, squeezing it tighter than you usually would. The only forgiveness you could give while being watched by his mother, grandsire, and siblings.

He seemed to understand, giving you a real smile – a breathtakingly beautiful smile – as you sat. You wanted to return it, but all your lips would do was tremble pathetically. You were sure that if you opened your mouth, you would burst into tears. So, you fixed your eyes on your plate and listened to the idle conversation around you.

Aemond himself began serving your plate, somehow knowing exactly what you liked and what you didn’t. When he finished, you looked over to him briefly and nodded your thanks, earning another of those beautiful smiles.

Your stomach flipped, and you told yourself it was only because you were hungry.

Neither you nor Aemond said anything to each other for the rest of the meal. Instead, you were more than content to simply listen. Or try to.

You were all too aware of every movement Aemond made. The way his long, elegant fingers gripped his goblet. The severe line of his jaw moving when he responded to his grandsire’s questions. The way he sat, legs bowed slightly outward to allow him comfortably at the table.

If you weren’t careful, your leg would brush against his.

You made sure to be very careful.

What you were not aware of was Prince Aegon’s eyes on you, noticing each time your eyes slid to his brother. Every so often, he would dip his chin and raise his brows when he made eye contact with Aemond, nodding toward you in encouragement.

Aemond noticed, but did nothing to act on it.

Not until the meal was ended and everyone rose from the table. He stepped to your side and extended his arm, accidentally bumping you, rather firmly, with his sharp elbow and causing you to jump away from him.

“I’m sorry,” Aemond said hastily. “I just… I hoped I could escort you back to your chambers?”

You looked at him for a moment, at the near-pleading in his eye, and nodded, slipping your arm into his for the first time since your wedding ceremony, and began to lead you through the castle halls.

As your private chambers were separate from the rest of the family’s, you were alone as you walked. You were not sure whether you were grateful for it or not.

The silence was palpable and nearly painful.

“Thank you,” you whispered, and Aemond stumbled at the unexpected sound. “For the flowers, I mean. They are a favourite from home.”

You looked up at him, and he gave another half-smile, but said nothing.

Silence fell once more.

“You look very beautiful tonight,” Aemond said, nearly shouting the sudden words. The corner of his lips twitched when you looked at him in shock. “This dress suits you much better than the one you wore yesterday, and is far more flattering than your nightclothes.”

Any warmth you felt at the initial compliment was thoroughly snuffed out at the remainder of the comment. Though you once more felt like crying, you schooled your features into indifference as you turned away from him, only looking straight ahead.

“I did not know you disliked them so,” you muttered, removing your arm from his and clasping your hands in front of you. You fixed your gaze straight ahead and did not waver. “I will not wear them again.”

Aemond stilled, but you did not break your stride. You only knew he followed after a moment when you heard the soft sounds of his boots against stone.

You walked in silence until you reached your door, then turned back to him. “Is there anything you require of me tonight, husband?”

He wore that expression of hurt that caused your chest to tighten, but you did not allow yourself to react. Finally, after a long moment, he licked his lips and shook his head once.

That was all the dismissal you needed. You opened your door just enough to slip through and shut it firmly behind you.

You did not speak to your maids as they prepared you for bed until they presented you with one of your favourite cotton nightgowns and your robe.

“Not those,” you whispered, though you longed for their comfort and warmth. “Something else. Anything else.”

They dressed you in one of the thin silk nightdresses, one which matched the colour of the dress you just removed. Though it was soft and luxurious against your skin, as you settled beneath your covers, you felt cold.

In the hall, Aemond took a stumbling step forward to rest his forehead against your door, his hand resting on the handle but not moving. He stayed like that for many long moments, silently cursing himself, before he stepped away and retreated to his own chambers.

The following day, you woke still feeling tired. It had been hard to find sleep when you felt so cold. When curling into yourself still did not warm you, you rose from the bed and stalked to your dressing room, determined to find your more comfortable nightclothes.

But the moment you ran your hand over the well-worn brocade of your robe, Aemond’s words again echoed in your mind.

He was right. It was not flattering. Your father had it made when you were younger, and he had obviously expected you to grow as large and tall as your brothers. But you had not, and the robe still overwhelmed your frame.

Your maids had offered to take it in to make it fit better, but you had denied them. You liked the way you could disappear into it, how it could double as a blanket, the way it streamed behind you as you ran through the halls of your father’s keep.

It was familiar – it was home.

Now Aemond had ruined it, as he had your dreams of a happy marriage.

Reluctantly, you rang the bell for your maids, apologising for the late hour, and asked for another blanket.

But worse than the aching in your bones and the heaviness of your head was the sinking feeling in your stomach when your maids told you that Aemond had sent word asking you to come watch him fight in the training yard.

No reason was given. Why would there be? A man did not need a reason to summon his wife.

You wanted to ignore the request. With Orwyle’s orders that you should rest, you easily could. Yet you could not deny the sinful part of you that remembered how you felt watching him train only days ago.

With his sword in hand, Aemond was a different man. He was graceful and confident – the Prince you imagined when you first heard of your betrothal. The sight of him had lit the smouldering fire of desire within you, shameful as it was.

Despite your prayers, the memory of his seeming indifference, and his more recent insults, you could not deny you wanted to see that man again.

So, you once again donned your warmest cloak – only after confirming with your maids countless times that it was flattering – and headed to the training yard.

Aemond was not in the ring when you arrived but sulking by a table full of weapons. His arms were crossed tightly in front of him, and though he faced the ring, he was not truly focused on the fight. He looked as distant as he did on your wedding night, just before he asked you to get in the bed.

That is until one of the Kingsguard – the Dornish one – pointed to you on the ramparts, and he looked to you.

You braced for another grimace, but it did not come. Were it not for the slight, almost hopeful raise of his brows, you would think him completely indifferent.

He turned back to the weapons table, quickly selecting a longsword and walking to the ring, barking an order that immediately disbanded the current melee. You watched him jump up and down, stretching and shaking his limbs to prepare for his own fight.

The Kingsguard stepped into the ring with him, wielding a large morningstar. The sight of the fearsome weapon sent a shiver of fear through your veins, but you quickly brushed it aside in favour of a small surge of pride.

You had seen Aemond fight. Surely success would come easily.

Though perhaps not.

At the first strike of the Morningstar, Aemond fell to one knee as his shield shattered. You startled, prompting the old Lord to your side to set a hand on your back and whisper his assurances.

“The Prince is a fine warrior,” he said, “a single strike will not fell him.”

But it was not only the one strike.

Over and over, the Kingsguard’s weapon struck, Aemond only barely avoiding it each time.

Once, after Aemond was forced to concede several steps back, the Kingsguard let his offensive stance fall and whispered something. Your husband only growled back at him, loud enough for you to hear from where you watched. Though even in the ferocity of his new advance, he fumbled through his strikes.

This was not the man you watched in the training yard before. However, there were hints of him, sometimes – a graceful swing of the sword, the agile avoidance of an incoming strike, or a strong blocking with his shield (which was replaced several times).

Though those glimpses were few, they were enough to light that fire once more as each one sent that tingling down your spine.

You even considered going down into the yard when the fight was over and asking him to take you back to your chambers.

The idea when quickly squashed when the fight ended badly.

A powerful blow from the morningstar sent Aemond backwards into the dirt. He only barely hung onto his sword. The Kingsguard dropped his weapon and approached the Prince with his hand outstretched.

Aemond did not accept it. Instead, he swatted the knight aside as he stood, driving his sword point-first into the dirt. Then, after whispering something you could not hear but could tell by the fury in his eyes was harsh and likely cruel, he turned and left the training yard.

Without a single glance your way.

Aemond did not attend the family meal that evening. He could not bear to face his wife after such a mortifying display.

Seeing her disappointment would break him, he was sure. Though worse was the possibility that she may laugh at him – mock him, as he had unintentionally mocked her.

Gods, he had not fought so poorly since he was a mere boy and had not yet been allowed to wield real steel. Perhaps the next day, Cole would give him his wooden practice sword back. He would deserve it, for both his abysmal performance and his arrogance.

When Lord Wylde suggested he invite her to ‘witness his martial prowess,’ he had let himself fall victim to Aegon’s flattery and his own vanity. And the gods had seen fit to punish him for it.

He would beg their forgiveness later. After he committed another sin. One he had been indulging in far too often of late.

Though his body – already sore from the fight – protested every movement, Aemond removed all his clothes. All the while, he tried not to think about the wrongness of what he was about to do or how much he had embarrassed himself, but about his wife.

How beautiful she had looked on the ramparts. How her hair floated so gracefully in the wind. How the colour of her cloak brought out a delightful sparkle in her eyes. How she had jumped each time Cole landed a blow.

That she cared whether he lived or died should not make his heart flutter as it did, but he would take whatever she would give him, even if it was the barest of affection.

When he was naked and laid himself across his bed, his cock was suitably hard and leaking. Still, he reached for the small phial of oil Aegon gave him when he suggested he ‘practice building his stamina.’

“It is a sin,” Aemond had hissed, horrified by the mere suggestion.

Aegon only shrugged. “So is killing. But we do so in war without fearing the wrath of the gods. Why? Because it is in pursuit of a noble goal. I would say making your wife c… happy and satisfied is a noble goal, wouldn’t you?”

It was an impressive logic – for Aegon. Still, Aemond went to the Sept each morning to ask the gods for forgiveness.

And each night, like now, he practised.

After depositing a droplet of oil into his palm, he took hold of his cock and began to slowly stroke himself.

It was nothing like being in his wife. No matter what he did, he could not replicate that wonderful feeling. So he quickly stopped trying.

Instead, he pumped himself hard and fast, trying to get to the edge of his peak as quickly as he could – and then stopped. He curled his hand into a fist at his side as he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting a few agonising moments before resuming at a slower pace.

The only thing that made that waiting bearable was assuring himself what it would lead to – or what he hoped it would lead to.

He pictured his wife as she had been when he was touching her. How she had come so close to giving herself over to pleasure.

He hoped she would not ask him to stop the next time. Instead, she would let him touch her until she came. She would let him taste her, something he had never considered before Aegon told him of it, but which he now craved like a man lost in the desert craved water. She would beg him to fuck her, to once again brush his cock against that spot inside her, over and over until they both came apart.

And he would gladly obey. He would do anything she asked – if she only would.

Aemond brought himself almost to coming over and over until his stones ached from being denied so long. Only then did he allow himself release, spilling across his stomach with his wife’s name on his lips.

The dinner felt unbearably strange without Aemond beside you. No excuses for his absence were given; it was apparently not a subject anyone else was curious about.

So, you ate your food, spoke when you were spoken to, and excused yourself the moment you were done eating.

Though he had never much talked to you at meals, his presence was still somehow missed. You missed the touch of his hand as he helped you into your seat, the low timbre of his voice when he answered a question from his mother or grandsire, and the warmth of his gaze whenever you caught him looking at you.

You missed all those little joys, which you only then realised were indeed joys, so much that you would gladly endure his insults and criticism if it only meant he was there. Besides, you liked how he had gawked in the library when you mocked him in return. That could become a fun little game…

As you left the dining hall, thinking about how he had smiled at you the night before, you found yourself turning not for your own chambers, but for his.

Perhaps he was hurt from his fall, and that was why he was not there. Surely, it was only concern for his health that had you turning this way, nothing more.

But then you took another step forward, and you knew.

You desired him.

The shock and shame of it had you immediately retreating to your own rooms.

You quickly had your maids prepare you for bed, dressing in another silk slip of a nightdress before sending them away and curling beneath your blankets.

Soon, your own heavy breathing was the only sound in the room. The godsdamned crickets had gone silent again, wishing for you to hear every shameful thought you had clearly.

You thought of the strength he had shown in holding off the Kingsguard’s attacks. The strength you had seen in the tautness of his muscles as he hovered over you. As he used those hands that so skillfully wielded a sword to bring you pleasure.

Your legs squeezed together of their own accord at the thought, and you became all too aware of a wetness between your thighs – the wetness he had once coaxed out of you with his gentle touch.

Spreading your legs and trying not to think about the sin of what you were doing, you slowly raised the hem of your nightdress and slid your hand over your folds.

Where Aemond’s fingers were warm, yours were cold. You rubbed your hand over your thigh momentarily, remembering him doing the same thing, before touching yourself again.

This part of you was unfamiliar, and you fumbled around more than Aemond had that first night.

You found your entrance first but shied away from slipping a finger inside. Somehow, that felt too wrong, too much of a sin.

But that was not the only place Aemond had touched that brought you pleasure.

Following the same line his thumb had taken, you searched from that little spot that had sent lightning through you.

It took some time, but you found it.

Though, no matter how fast you moved your finger or how hard you pressed, your own touch did not bring you nearly as much pleasure as Aemond’s had. Finally, after many long minutes, your attempts were causing far more frustration than anything else, and you ripped your hand away from your sex.

You nearly cried when you saw your fingers glistening – with bright red blood.

Your moon’s blood was here.

You were not pregnant.

The next morning, you immediately sent for raspberry tea to soothe the aching that had already taken hold in your abdomen and did not get out of bed until it had arrived and you had drunk two cups full.

Then, you wished you had not gotten out of bed at all. There was another note from your husband – he wanted to meet you for a walk in the gardens.

At least it meant he was not hurt. But to face him after what you had done, or tried to do…

A good wife did not do what you did. A good wife would have gone to his chambers and made sure he was well, would have let him take comfort in you.

Gods, you should have done so. You wished so badly that you had done so.

You could not change what you did, but you could be a good wife from this point on – you would be.

So, despite your pains, you dressed and headed for the gardens, where his note said he would be waiting for you all morning.

You spent the entire walk through the castle praying. To the Father for forgiveness for your sin. To the Mother for forgiveness for failing your husband and to beg that his seed quickened the next time. To the Crone for the wisdom to be a good wife – again, as the same prayer had obviously not worked the first time. To the Warrior, for the courage you would need to face Aemond. To the Smith, to repair what had been broken between you. And to the Stranger for whatever you had forgotten to include in your prayers to the others.

Truly, you needed the blessing of each of the Seven.

It was only by clutching the Seven-Pointed Star pendant until your fingers hurt that you did not collapse at the sight of Aemond.

He looked ethereally beautiful in the morning light. The soft sunlight streaming through the few leaves that still remained on the trees set his hair aglow, like he was touched by the gods themselves. Indeed, they must have been tempting your devotion to your promise. Why else would they make him appear so tempting?

You swallowed thickly, grateful you had approached him from the left, so he would not see you gawking. Then, once you had regained your composure, thanks in no small part to a new wave of pain in your belly overwhelming any desire, you stepped forward and curtsied.

“Husband,” you greeted with as much sweetness in your voice as you could muster, “thank you for the invitation to join you today.”

Aemond stood from the bench and bowed back to you, even though protocol did not require it. “Thank you for coming,” he said with a shy smile. “I was worried that… you might not.”

“It would be improper for a wife to deny her husband’s wishes,” you replied.

Dutiful. Polite. A good wife.

But Aemond’s smile fell. “I hope you do not feel you had to come here just because I asked,” he murmured, not meeting your gaze. “I hope that you wanted to come.”

You found yourself almost smiling at him, at the sentiment he offered. Then, nodding, you stepped forward and awkwardly held your hand out for a moment before returning it to your side. “I have not yet had the chance to see the gardens. Will you show me?”

He looked as though you had just offered him a kingdom and held out his arm for you to take.

Despite the heat radiating off him, you shivered as you looped your arm through his, and he began to lead you down the flagstone path.

You walked in silence for a while, but it was not as heavy or uncomfortable as before. There was only the faintest hint of tension between you, the rest replaced by a kind of contentment – unfamiliar but pleasant.

Aemond only spoke to name some of the plants you saw. How he knew exactly which ones you could not identify yourself, you did not know. He just… knew.

You stopped in front of the gnarled trunk of a wisteria vine. It was not in bloom, and most of its leaves had fallen, but it was still beautiful in its bareness.

“It is wisteria,” Aemond said after a moment, pointing with a finger to trace its path from its roots to the very ends of the vine some twenty feet away on a trellis. “At the end of spring, it will produce hanging blooms that are a lovely shade of purple.”

You looked up at him, at his one eye and its lovely shade of purple – the colour of wisteria, you realised.

Before you knew it, you were smiling so wide it hurt your cheeks. “I know,” you replied, your voice almost a laugh. “It is one of my favourites.”

Feeling yourself begin to blush furiously, you turned back toward the plant. “There was one even larger than this right outside my window at my father’s keep.”

Aemond did not – could not – respond. You had just smiled at him, and it was more beautiful than he had ever imagined.

You walked through the gardens on Aemond’s arm until you had seen every plant, every flower, every leaf. It was the happiest you had been since arriving in King’s Landing, and indeed in many years before.

But it could not last forever. While you were merely a wife, Aemond was a Prince. He had duties far more important than walking with his wife. So, when he mentioned the hour was growing late, you did not ask him to stay.

You merely removed your arm from his, bowed your head, and whispered your farewell. As a good wife does.

Yet Aemond remained in front of you, the look in his eye so intense you had to turn away.

“May I come to your chambers tonight?” he asked, his voice small but firm.

Your chest tightened.

You wanted to say yes – to kiss him and feel his touch once more. But…

“My moon’s blood arrived today,” you told him quickly before the fear in your gut could still your tongue.

Until he made that request, you had been enjoying the time spent with your husband so dearly that you had nearly forgotten the pain in your belly, the undeniable proof of your failure to produce an heir.

Your failure to be a good wife.

As tears sprang to your eyes, you watched his face twist with confusion, then crumple with despair, and finally, freeze into an expression you could not name.

Once more, he felt like a mystery to you – a stranger. Had you really come to know him so well, to care for him enough that even a single unknown expression could cause you this much pain?

You must have, for the pain in your empty womb was nothing compared to that which now took hold of your heart.

He looked to the flagstones below you, his mouth starting and failing to find words. “I…” he began, then stopped.

“Aemond?” you asked, desperate now for him to say anything, even if it was to call you stupid again.

Your mind was so clouded by fear at what he may say next that you did not realise it was the first time you had called him by his name since the wedding ceremony.

His eye met yours again, and he raised his brows. “Thank you for the walk.”

And then he left. Again.

To your credit, you did not cry until you were back in your rooms.

You did not go to dinner that night or even eat the meal that was brought to your rooms.

You only prayed and cried and prayed some more. Until you fell asleep on the couch in your sitting room.

After waking in the dark at some point in the night, with a blanket over your shoulders. You knew you should move to the bed, or you would be sore in the morning. But whatever you did, you would be sore for at least a few more days. So, you stayed on the couch.

For a while, you watched the door, hoping that Aemond would walk through and throw himself at your feet as he begged your forgiveness. And despite your better judgment, you would give it to him without hesitation.

But he did not come.

Eventually, you fell asleep again.

When you woke once more, you were indeed sore. But it was quickly forgotten when you saw something unfamiliar on the table before you – a leather-bound journal and a folded note with your name written on it in beautiful script.

Curious but cautious, you only grabbed the note before settling back into your seat to read it:

My dearest wife,

Forgive me for not coming to you myself to apologise, but given the way I acted the last time I did so, I believe you will prefer this.

I am so very sorry that my behaviour towards you has been utterly abhorrent. Please know that my stumbling words and foolish actions come not from a place of malice or even indifference. Rather, they are an attempt by a stupid and incompetent man to try and impress his wife.

There is nothing in the world that I desire so much as to see you happy. Nothing I wish for more than to see your smile and, if the gods bless me, to be the reason for it.

For my love, when you smiled at me yesterday – I have never felt anything so wonderful.

But as the past weeks have shown, I fear I am incapable of presenting myself with dignity when I am in your presence. Your beauty, kindness, and pure goodness overwhelm me the moment I see you, and all my good sense abandons me. No matter my intentions, nor the poetry I compose in my mind prior to coming to you, the very moment I am with you, I become little more than a bumbling idiot, unable to even say ‘hello’ without somehow offending or upsetting you.

So, I will no longer try. I know I have caused you much more discomfort than anything, and it pains me beyond measure. Already, I have begged the Seven for their forgiveness, and now I beg yours.

If you do not wish to give it, I will understand. I will accept whatever you decide and act accordingly. If you wish to not see me again, I will disappear. But I would be doing you a disservice as your husband if I did not at least share with you the depth of my feelings before we are parted – if that is indeed what you desire, though I hope it is not.

I am all too aware that if I tried to do this myself, I would say some ridiculous thing to make you hate me forever. That is, I admit, my greatest fear. So, I have asked the servants to deliver you this note, along with my diary. I know you keep your own, for I have seen it in your chambers. Therefore, you know that what you will read is not merely words, but the truths of my very soul.

Please know that I am not afraid to share it with you. As my wife, you are entitled to know everything about me. But more than that, I want you to. I want you to see all that I am, to know me as well as the gods themselves. I pray that what you will learn will not frighten or upset you but show you the man I so wish to be. The man I would be, if you allow me.

I pray you will like him, perhaps even learn to love him. For he loves you so very, very much.

I have marked the passages I most want you to read, but you have my permission to read everything. I will not hide anything from you, not anymore.

With all my love, more than you know,

Your husband, Prince Aemond Targaryen

As you lowered the note, now stained with several of your tears, you looked at the journal – the diary – on the table. It contained the truth of your husband, the man who had confused and angered you, delighted and amazed you.

It was a truth that, once you knew it, would change you forever.

But you had already been changed, hadn’t you? Irrevocably. The only thing the diary would change was whether it was for the better or for the worse.

So, after one last prayer, you set Aemond’s note back on the table, picked up the diary, and began to read.

Taglist (bold means I couldn't tag you) If I forgot you, I'm sorry! I've never had a taglist this big before!

@hb8301 @that-girl-named-alex @bat-revival @dahlias-and-marigolds @dc-marvel-girl96 @nina2697 @padfooteyes @missusnora @bluebirdonafencepost @bellaisasleep @yentroucnagol @sarahkimtae @imjustboredso @howdoichangemynameto @hopebaker @yelenabeleovapocket @let-love-bleeds-red @maximizedrhythms @xideshiz @siriusdumblittlepuppy @skikikikiikhhjuuh @lemonivall @anisa269 @flavorofsalt @queenofshinigamis @elles-mind-palace @dragonfireandpixiedust @glitterandgoldfinds @daydreamerblues @tswiftsthings @kitkat-writes-stuff @miraclealignertlsp369 @cryztalline @im-obsessed-with-marvel @fluffiy @kotonei-molyneux @natie335 @killjoynotes @mariahossain @bellstwd

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leewonkyeom · 27 days

Text

051: epilogue

light a flame [51/51]

previous | masterlist | main masterlist

☆ summary: when your roommate quits his job at the coffee shop you frequent you never imagined the new guy would be hot or even your type. to make matters worse you both study law at the same university.

your friends to try to convince you to get together with him. you try to convince them you just find him really nice... but are you able to convince yourself?

☆ a/n: wow i can't believe we have finally reached the end of this fic😭😭 hopefully this little epilogue is satisfying (but tbh when i get to writing that soonyoung spin-off, i might reveal some behind the scenes stuff like how jihoon and yn made up😌). i'll also be posting that bonus chapter i promised y'all soon!! thank you so much to everyone who has been following this fic and leaving likes, comments and reblogs!!

stay tuned for my upcoming works! i'm currently trying to get out those one-shots requests from january😭 but y'all can also expect me to start posting my next full length fic soon (seungcheol x reader!!) (i promise i am dk biased okay😔 i just had this idea for the longest time and cheol fits so well) in the meantime you can check out my other works in my main masterlist (linked above!) or add yourself to my taglist♡

#jeon wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #svt #svt x reader #wonwoo au #seventeen #wonwoo smau #wonwoo svt scenarios #wonwoo #seventeen au #seventeen smau #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fluff

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astermacguffin · 3 months

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Help me finish my degree

Almost a year has passed and still no justice for my dad and his coworkers who got unjustly fired under the guise of "restructuring" the organization. For those curious, the company's name is Duty Free Philippines, and they're doing everything right now to delay the case that the union filed against them and avoid paying their employees what they're owed.

Although my work is enough to sustain me for everyday living, the big cut in the family budget means that my education is getting compromised. Thankfully due to help from your donations (I cannot stress enough how THANKFUL I am for y'all) I was able to continue my studies the previous year.

I dislike begging for help as much as anyone, but I'm literally in my graduating year and I just need one last help to push through this final stretch for my degree. The breakdown for the expenses is in the cut below, but in total I would need 37,130.50 pesos, or 664.07 US dollars (as of Feb. 2, 2024).

I don't have any means of repaying y'all for your help, but if you're interested, I'm putting in the replies a google drive link of all my major works in philosophy (multiple of which have garnered me invites to various conferences). My main specialization is logic and philosophy of language, but you will also find my works in other branches like art studies, ethics, philosophy of law, Filipino philosophy, and philosophy of religion. Again, thank you so much!

Donation options:

paypal.me/RVAster

2. Remitly:

Send money to: Philippines

Delivery method: Mobile money

GCash/Maya account: 09291580204

Tuition breakdown:

Tuition: 24,630.50

Monthly rent: 2,500 pesos x 5 months = 12,500 pesos

Tuition + Rent = 37,130.50 pesos

#aster writes

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ooffmlsorry · 5 months

Text

Bringing Law Home for a Family Holiday

Readers' Note: Reader has a large and generally good but overbearing family. Only happy things in this, little to no angst!

A/N: Every holiday I get struck with the desire to write my latest blorbo coming home with their s/o for the holidays. I don't have time to crack out 10-15k words so this is probs gonna be more stream of consciousness but it'll get the point across.

I've been imagining how tense the travel to Law's s/o's house is because God forbid y'all be late because Law wants to make a good impression no matter how many times you explain it's a very loose 4 p.m. arrival time.

You've been dating for long enough that you think it's reasonable for him to meet your family (that was enough to make Law's heart flutter and then start hammering...could it be you're just as serious about him as he is about you?)

"My aunt showed up at noon and my cousin's probably not going to be here until after dark, really it's fine!" You'd insist. "Besides, the people that show up on time are the ones that end up having to go back out because someone forgot something!"

And of course Law would say "that's fine." With a such a stubborn and determined tone. Being on time or a few minutes early is better than being late! Suddenly your man is a rule follower! 🤭Suddenly you can picture Law as he was a kid studious and button-ed up in his little doctor's uniform. It's almost kind of cute if he wasn't so nervous.

The closest thing to family Law has is Bepo, Shachi and Penguin. Not since the Donquixote family has Law had anything to do with that word and he's so nervous he feels sick. For Law this translate to acting like he has the world's biggest cactus shoved up his ass, and you know that so you try not to take his coolness personally.

Holding his hand helps a little though. You ignore how shaky and sweaty it is.

He's feeling a lot of big feelings right now, poor guy.

He insisted on you giving him a "family tree" when he realized how big your family is and a list of things not to accidentally mention or do. He's been studying it for days, re-reading it over and over obsessively.

The fact that he's a pirate is fine, which takes a lot of pressure off. You come from a family full of pirates, so you swear Law will fit right in. Although you warn him your grandfather's probably going to start reminiscing about how he knew Gol D. Roger as a kid (which no one knows if that's actually true) and ranting about the young pirates these days.

You'd walk up to your family home high on a hill over looking the sea. From several yards away you can already hear music. You realize as you get closer it's more like you're dragging Law more than he's walking with you.

It's subconscious lol. I promise you he's not doing it on purpose. As soon as you notice it he speaks, "I'm fine."

Poor Traffy is so pale!

His tone dares you to question him, almost as if to actually say "I'm fine, if I wasn't I wouldn't be here Y/N. Please trust me to be honest with you about how I'm feeling." But that's a lot of words for someone who's mouth is cotton dry. He's trying his best, so you give him a quick kiss on the cheek for courage and walk up to the house together.

The first thing your family comments on when you open the door is how early you are despite the fact that it's three minutes to 4:00.

"We weren't expecting Y/N for another hour!" Your aunt winks at Law and nudges him, no introduction, no nothing, and says "you must really be something special if you can get them here to early!"

Despite Law's best efforts, having one of your family members immediately point out his supposed specialness to you makes blush and stutter.

It doesn't matter how awkward his no response of blinking at your aunt was because she's already gone flitting around with an arm full of what your family calls "the good plates."

You pull Law down to whisper in his ear, "told you we'd be early," you giggle.

It's not the nicest house, but it is big, and warm, and festive. Just standing in the doorway taking it in Law's struck with the remembrance of home. He tries to only focus on the present, not Swallow Island, Spider Miles, or even Flevance, your home is good..for today. But tomorrow he'll back at his home: the Polar Tang.

You introduce him to what little family is already there. Your heart squeezes at the way Law awkwardly waves at the baby your cousin's bouncing on his lap and the surprise that quickly turns into a soft smile that spreads across his lips when the baby coos back.

He meets your grandpa, who appraises him very officially. You swear to God Law's holding his breath as the stout man with a peg leg circles him with his arms behind his back. "Trafalgar Law, hmm..." he says very seriously. "You know back in my day pirates didn't all these tattoos to prove they were tough."

"I heard your day was quite a long time ago," Law says almost automatically. In for a penny, in for a pound, he doubles down, adding "sir" at the end.

That would be your boyfriend hehe. Too sharp for his own good.

Of course that's what your grandfather likes. He shakes Law's hand and pulls him into a crushing hug. Your grandpa promises later he's got words for him (ie. the shovel talk). It's a little disturbing how comfortable Law feels knowing he'll be threatened with an unspeakably awful death later. That's the most familiar thing that has happened all day. lol

But he knows the person he needs to impart the best impression on is your grandmother. You don't think you've ever seen Law so perfectly polite in your life....which makes your grandmother howl with laughter! "My ass whooping days are over, boy! Relax!" Her frail hands clutch her stomach as she laughs. She wipes a tear from her eyes, "I thought you said he was a pirate?!" She pats Law on the cheek like he's a sweet little boy (because at her old age 26 is a little boy) and gives it a squeeze. And because it's your grandma, he lets her.

You have to hide your laughter behind your hand.

"He's a sweet boy, Y/N," she says to you. "And so handsome! Where were all the good-looking men like him when I was at sea?"

"I killed 'em all!" Your grandpa yells across the house.

And just like that, Law's in your grandmother's good graces. Of course you knew he would be.

True to your word earlier, you get sent in to town to pick up a short list of last minute things. It's a nice moment to breathe. As soon as you're far enough from the house you wrap your arms around him and kiss him deeply.

"I'm so happy they like you," you say quietly once you come up for air. You don't tease him about how strange it is to see him hoping for someone's approval like you would in most circumstances. Instead you feel yourself melt, "I knew they would, but now you believe me?"

"They like me for now," he says because god forbid he go easy on himself.

"You're not as hard to love as you think you are, Law." You press another kiss to his lips.

(A/N: ooh chile lemme tell you, for saying that right there that man is going to romantically rail you within an inch of your life when y'all get back to the ship. That is the only way I can convey to you how much you saying that means to him. He's speechless.)

By time y'all get back there are a lot more people here and it's a lot louder. Your brother asks Law about a rash on elbow (at the dinner table no less, but hey these are pirates!) and he actually gives him advice.

Law meets your little cousins, who ask him a million questions including but not limited to:

"Why do you wears that funny looking hat?"

"Are you actually a surgeon?"

"Does getting a tattoo hurt?"

"Can you give me a tattoo?"

"How many Marines have you killed?"

"Are the Straw Hat Pirates really that strong?"

"Do you really have a polar bear on your ship?"

"Are you and Y/N ever gonna have a baby?"

To which Law responds:

"Who said it was funny looking?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know. I don't feel pain." you thought this man would take their questions seriously?

"Surgeons aren't allowed to do that. My hands will fall off if I do."

"Definitely more than you."

"As strong as they are stupid."

"Yeah, he's our navigator."

".........I think I heard someone calling you from the kitchen."

Your little cousins think "he's weird funny." He does "surgery" on the dolls your cousins offer up to him and thoroughly enjoy the weird monstrosities he creates. And Your moody teenage nephew deems Law "cool."

Your mom insists Law's too skinny for his own good and piles more food on his plate. "If you're going to survive out there you need some meat on your bones! I wanna see you here next year, Trafalgar."

Law almost chokes. Your mom already wants him back next year. He was expecting to have to get her approval somehow too, but she's accepted him immediately. "All I needed to know is if you make my little Y/N happy!" Your mom explains while hugging you, "And look how happy they are!"

And your old man, a pirate captain in his own right, several beers deep, slings his arm over Law's shoulder. "You're the one that's got that big ol' bounty, huh?" Before Law can fully answer, he continues on drunkenly, "that means you probably looted enough to cover your own wedding, right? Cause I'm sure's shit not." God bless Law for taking it with a grain of salt and taking him over to a couch. "That means you can marry 'em if ya want, as'long as I don' havta pay none. But if you break their heart I'll turn ya in myself...goddamn Marines...making me a traitor..." he says until his words turn into drunk muttering.

"That's your blessing in case you were wondering," your mom sighs. "I know you didn't ask but that was it. That man is fine with anything as long as he doesn't have to pay for it."

"You get my blessing because you helped clean up!" Your grandma pipes in. "Nothing more valuable than a man that knows how clean up after himself!"

I don't know how many times Law is rendered speechless for a moment. Was it that easy or was your family truly that accepting? In a handful of hours he's been completely welcomed and they want him to come back next year, to marry you? It's dizzying, but in a...hopeful way? Because...he wants it to happen too...if he's lucky enough to come back next year as your husband.

At the end of the night, you and Law are sent on your way with tons of food to bring back to Heart Pirates, and whether he likes it or not your mom and your grandma each press a kiss to Law's cheek.

You walk back down the hill together.

"It was good to see them again," you say. "Was that too much?"

"No," Law says. "I'm happy."

A/N: so yeah, I just had that bumbling around in my head today. I hope it was fluffy enough for ya! 😘

#one piece fluff #one piece x you #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece #trafalgar law

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sugarcoatedcherry · 1 year

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void state progress and success!!!

I'm updating every day privately (now public) hehe

(scroll down and read pink highlighted paragraph for success story I had started attempting void much earlier than this)

day 1: tried but eventually fell asleep

day 2. did an extensive reasearch, like all day, read ton of success stories, got insane inspiration. believed void was real and manifestations are instant. I tried and got into hypnagogic state. but fell asleep

day 3: re read all the success stories again and again whole day and became more confident, I made mental notes on common symptoms I'd have, affirmed little. all night I played subliminals, binaural beats etc but got tired and fell asleep

day 4: still motivated, angry but persisting, I am affirming, made more mental notes on how I should go about void, did more reasearch on Hinduism interpretation on void, read about void on reddit, YouTube, explore astral projection and sleep paralysis video's comment section (they had similar symptoms just like void) became even more confident with void, tried methods but eventually i got exhausted and fell asleep

day 5: MADE MY OWN RULES. YES, no notes or anything, it's my way baby, it'll go how I want it to go, when I want it go. no more sending asks to bloggers, no more doubting, no more worrying the process. Just believing it will happen. not worrying about the circumstances. I'm very confident that today IS THE DAY 💅

day 6: I couldn't enter, i slept lmao

day 7: I got to the vibrational stage but my thoughts were distractibg and I slept

day 8: I learnt about sleep paralysis and tried that

day 9: last night didn't work, but I'll persist

day 10: i just slept, void is messing with my sleep schedule

day 11: spend A LOT OF TIME researching about void in Hinduism and got a lot of confidence but didn't enter

day 12: AGAIN SPENT A LOT OF TIME RESEARCHING about void in Hinduism but didn't make it

day 13: I'm getting closer to something very important and I need to enter void on a time crunch. I cried

day 14: everything is exhausting, but I still tried entering void but rolled over anf slept

day 15: i drank coffee to stay awake and I'm doing the meditation sitting up so that I don't roll over and fall asleep

(UGHHHHHHHHHH GOD )

day 16: I found a subliminal that made my body vibrate within first 2 minutes of listening?? and I looped it overnight but fell asleep sometime while listening but I'm still hopeful.

day 17: stupid exams

day 18: studied for my next stupid exams

day 19: I am so tired I didn't attempt I wanted to sleep peacefully

day 20: Literally my entire life is on hold because I am trying to get into void, I do realise this is unhealthy but at the same time I am so much confident that I can do it? I don't know how to explain this confidence but I know I will enter the void.

day 21: more exams and didn't attempt

day 22:

I DID IT GUYS I DID IT OMGGG THIS FEELS SO GOOD OH GOD JDKEODJDJDN I LOVE THIS FOR ME I FEEL UNSTOPPABLE I CHANGED MY ENTIRE LIFE THIS IS SO BIG TO ME Y'ALL DON'T HAVE A CLUE AHHHHH. I'M GONNA CRY. I HAVE EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED JSBSJDKDODKSNSN

quick thanks to all loass bloggers on Tumblr and Sammy Ingram (she shitted about void but it's okay lmao is her limiting belief but I'm thanking her for introducing the law to me) my fav bloggers are @rosellesworkshop @fleurlx @blushydior @stargirl-kira @multiversebaddie @zen-shu @prettymindset111 @luvforend @sa777urn @aphroditeapprenticee @gorgeouslypink @littlemissprettyprincess @sirensplayhouse thanks for answering my asks.

ANDDD all the anons who posted void success stories and thanks to @voidsuccess for compiling them!!! (i used to obsessively surf her blog day and night until day 10 lmaoo)

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pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb · 2 months

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Torn Apart pt. 3

So it's been a while and I went through a kinda depression phase, but I'M BACK with chapter 3 at least, and chapter 4 is in the works. I will set up a poll to see how y'all want it to end because I just can't decide.

TW's: Reader is kinda drugged but is funny, talk of pain, talk of the trauma and the fight with Zoro.

And yes, to the person who asked if I'd seen Violet Evergarden, I love it so much and her hands are what I'm mostly thinking of when writing <3

You sighed deeply and slowly, eyes still closed in partial slumber. You were waking up, groggy as all hell but still conscious. Your brows furrowed before you pried open your eyes into slits, before opening them further once you realized you were in a dimly lit room.

“There ya are” a voice said. You recognized it, and knew it was safe, but the man’s name escaped your grasp. You heard various beeping in the background, and you felt like you were dreaming.

“Wha…?” you slurred, smacking your lips as you noticed your mouth was dry. You blinked slowly again.

“You’re going to be groggy for a bit, but everything was successful and went smoothly” the voice said. It was soothing, hearing him talk. You finally focused on him, sitting in the corner of the room on a chair. He stood, and your eyes lagged to follow his movements.

“Law” you whispered in recognition as the light hit his face. You could feel yourself smiling dopily.

“You’re so pretty, Law” you slurred. You wanted to touch his face, feel his beard and sideburns, to feel the heat from his tanned skin as he blushed at your compliment. Your arm twitched, but didn’t move completely off the bed. You scowled at it before it crashed into you.

Your arm.

You had arms.

The surgery. The arms. It worked!

You looked up at Law, tears filling your eyes as you looked at him with true, unfiltered gratitude. He paused at your tears.

“Does it hurt? Are you in pain?” he quickly bent over to check your shoulders but you shakily raised one hand to touch his face. You could feel the echoes of his skin and the coarseness of his sideburns and beard.

“I can touch you,” you said softly. A wide smile puffed your cheeks and you laughed a little in disbelief. Law smiled a little, just a small quirk of his lips, and put his hand on the back of yours.

“Yeah. But are you in pain?” he asked again. You stared at his hand, resting on top of yours. You could feel the heat of it, and how warm he was. More tears flowed with your happiness. You sniffed, finally taking stock of your body. The sites of the attachments were stinging and throbbing, but it was tolerable.

“Yeah but it’s not bad” you finally said. Law sighed in relief, put your hand back on the bed, and stood upright.

“Good. It should be painful, but not so bad it's unbearable and you shouldn’t be numb. I’ll go get your crew,” he said. You nodded, still unable to wipe the smile off your face. He walked quickly to the door and opened it. His soft voice floated back to you as you bent both arms at the elbow to look at your hands.

They were incredible, intricate pieces that were made of metal. The silver gleam was dulled in the light that was only provided by a lamp on the small table across the room, but it was the best thing you’ve ever laid eyes on. You tried clenching and unclenching your fist, checking out the movement. It was choppy, and it hurt like a bitch at the attachment sites, but they worked. Your dazed study of your arms was interrupted by Law yelling at your captain.

“Oi! Mugiwara-ya! Be fucking gentle! I won’t have you screwing up my work!”

You heard Luffy and the crew running towards your room way before you saw any faces. Luffy’s slap of his sandals, Franky’s metal arms pumping, Usopp screeching as he got run over by Nami, who was wearing heels. You heard the two different taps of dress shoes from both Sanji and Brook. Luffy’s rubber hands gripped the doorframe and he shot himself past your room before letting his body pull him back so he could jump off the adjacent wall and fly into your room. He skidded to a halt at the side of your bed, eyes twinkling and a huge, toothy smile on his face. You noticed Chopper was hanging onto his shoulder for dear life, but popped up to see how you were doing.

“Shihihihihi~ You’re awake! You have suuuuuper cool robot arms! Man, I have the coolest crew. Are you hungry? Should Sanji to cook you something? Can he make you meat?” Luffy fired questions at you one after the other. In your groggy state of mind, the words jumbled together, but you were saved by Chopper, who hopped onto your bed gently.

“Shut up, Luffy! Patient’s are usually confused and groggy when they first wake up. And no, no meat right now- that’s just an excuse for you to eat more meat!” Chopper chided Luffy. You couldn’t help but smile at the reindeer. He’s just too cute.

“Cute” you mumbled. You wanted to squish his face. Your arms were still bent at the elbow, and you let Chopper gently crawl up your body to sit on your stomach.

“Squish squish” you slurred, pinching his cheeks. He cried out in pain a little but there was still a smile fighting to stay on his face. He pulled his cheeks free from your grip and giggled while rubbing the sore spots.

“Well it looks like we need to train fine motor skills, but that’s to be expected,” he said. His words washed over you, the meaning clicking in your mind somewhere, but not coming to the forefront. You were distracted by movement by the doorway. Sanji and Franky were trying to shove each other out of the way to get into the door first, but Nami’s well-planted foot on Franky’s butt caused him to stumble into the room first, but he caught himself and seemed to materialize by your bedside. Nami entered second, as Sanji let her go first, before cutting in front of Usopp. You blinked slowly, and suddenly your bed was surrounded by your crew. Well, all except one. You looked at Luffy, who started asking about what kind of cool robot things you could do now, and Chopper tried desperately to answer for you. You looked at Franky next, and he got closer to you with a smile.

“Heya, kiddo. Ya got’cha suuuuperrrrr arms. Everything went well! Law is a super surgeon, and with a little bit of physical therapy and training, you should get used to the arms in no time,” he said. You looked at him, blinking slowly as the words sunk in and the meaning clicked. You smiled up at him.

“I love you like a brother. My big brother. I’ll protect you, cuz we’re twin-sies,” you murmured, raising your hand. He clasped it, tears starting to form in his eyes at your drugged words. Your grip tightened in mechanical increments around his, and you flinched a little as the attachment sites stung. He let go of your hand, and brought it down to rest on your stomach.

“You need to let the sites heal a little more before you really start using it,” he said around tears streaming down his face. You hummed a little in response, letting your gaze wander. It landed on Sanji, who was hovering uncertainly on your other side.

“Hey, cook” you greeted softly. Sanji’s lip quivered a little but he broke out in a smile.

“Hey, my little fighter, do you need anything? Water? Food?” he asked, reaching out gently to stroke your hair. You let yourself nuzzle into his hand.

“So kind, Sanji. So nice, and strong, and kind. Did I say that already?” You slurred your words slightly. His hand froze on your head, and you whined a little when he stopped stroking your hair. You looked at him with a small pout. His cheeks were a bright red, and he was looking at you, lips parted with shock. You let your head fall more into his hand.

“More” you mumbled. He immediately started back up again, and you closed your eyes briefly with a hum. Sounds of indignation from Brook brought your gaze to him, and he reached out with a tentative hand.

“May I please… see your panties?” he asked solemnly. Nami whacked his skull as you giggled a little.

“I haven’t heard that in a while. Did I change that much?” you asked him, a small smile on your face. The crew quieted at your question, before Nami spoke up.

“No sweetie. You haven’t changed much at all, it’s just that we got scared. You were so hurt, that we didn’t know how to act around you,” she said quietly. You hummed. Sanji’s hand kept stroking your hair.

“Like Zoro. He was scared, and guilty, and only got that out in anger” you said, brow furrowing. The words you were trying to say weren’t coming out as clearly as you wanted. The crew was silent for a moment.

“Yes, he was, and is, feeling scared and guilty” Robin answered. You nodded once in confirmation, smiling at the fact that they still understood what you were trying to say. You looked up at Sanji, smiling proudly.

“Just like you said,” you whispered loudly. He smiled sadly down at you, tears brimming his eyes.

“Yeah. Just like I said” he murmured. A snorting sniff attracted your attention, and you looked at Usopp, who was obviously fighting back tears.

“Hey Usopp, did it hurt your mother when she gave birth to a baby with such a big nose?” you asked seriously. Franky snorted a laugh, shocked by your question. Brook started laughing so hard he ended up on his knees and elbows, crashing a fist into the floor as he repeated your question breathlessly. Luffy started laughing wildly, Chopper right beside him, and you smiled at the sound. Nami sank into a chair, clutching her stomach as she laughed. Robin giggled behind her hand, and Usopp stared at you with a shocked expression.

“I uh… I don’t know” he said finally, before erupting into giggles. You hummed, looking at Sanji, who was laughing loudly. You smiled at him. He was gorgeous like this. Laughter suited him well.

You didn’t realize you said it out loud until he was looking down at you in surprise, a grin on his face as his cheeks turned pink. The rest of the crew was still ganging up on Usopp, teasing about his long nose.

“Thank you, but you are much more gorgeous than I could ever be,” he answered. You giggled, a dumb joke coming to mind.

“I think I’ll shine brighter now that I’m part metal” you said, grinning up at him. He fought back tears at your drugged giddiness. A wave of exhaustion swept through your body, and you relaxed completely against your pillow.

“Okay that’s it. Everyone out,” Law chided from the doorway. Robin, Nami, Brook and Usopp filed out with various well wishes. Sanji soothed a hand over your hair one more time before dropping a light kiss against your forehead. You hardly registered it through your exhaustion, eyes drooping and a hum of contentment was pulled unconsciously from your chest.

“Bonne nuit, fais de beaux rêves, mon Ange” (goodnight, sweet dreams, my angel) Sanji whispered. You didn’t have a clue what he said, but you knew it was something sweet. Luffy sat down on the chair that Law had previously sat in, obviously not going anywhere. You faded off to sleep as you heard Franky, Chopper, and Law murmuring at the foot of your bed.

As you drifted in and out of consciousness, you felt strange, pain echoing in your shoulders and attachment sites, spreading to an odd sensation in your arms. You could feel things, and they didn’t exactly hurt, but it was really uncomfortable. You were interrupted through the night by Law’s crew, taking turns to check your vitals and healing through the night. Luffy sprawled out on the chairs, snoring loudly, and you found the comfort of familiarity in the sound.

The next few days passed in a blur, your memory and time perception altered by the pain drugs Law was administering through your neck IV. In your bouts of consciousness, you managed to eat broth and light meals prepared by Sanji that were packed with nutrition. He fed you the broth, your arm still movements too jerky to keep the liquid balanced on the spoon, but watched you carefully as you fed yourself bite-sized pieces of fruit that he stabbed with a fork and handed to you. You accidentally bent a few forks at first when you grabbed it, but Franky walked you through practicing your fine motor skills. At least now you weren’t bending forks every time you tried to eat a piece of apple. Law actually had a difficult time keeping your crew from overwhelming you, and muttered under his breath when he was checking your surgery sites about how it was like herding animals. You remember bits of Law keeping you company when you were unable to sleep during the dead of night from your naps during the day. He sat with his textbooks in his lap beside your bed and told you intriguing facts and topics from his studies. He sometimes fell asleep in the chair, and you remembered inviting him to sleep with you instead of in the chair. His cheeks turned bright red as he swiftly excused himself saying that he heard his crew calling him.

The rest of the Straw Hat Pirates kept you company through the day, much like they did when you were recovering on the Sunny. Franky and Usopp teamed up to design ‘sleeves’ to go over your metal arms when you wanted ‘skin’ over them. Usopp designed various color, black, and even metallic tattoos to go on some, and others had freckles or smooth skin. Some even had long, painted and fancy nails that you could even use like needle-like knives. Anything you could ever want your arms and hands to look like could happen. They blended seamlessly with your natural skin tone, and covered the attachment sites to protect them. Usopp and Franky finished the first one while you were still recovering, bursting into the room excitedly as you were sitting and chatting with a mixture of your crew and Law’s crew. Everyone startled for a second at the sound, but calmed once Franky’s bright smile shone and Usopp’s voice began to exaggerate the effort that went into the project. You eyed the sleeve with curiosity. It was basically like a glove made of synthetic skin, made out of the same material Franky used on himself.

“What design is this one?” you asked excitedly. Franky snatched the sleeve from Usopp and held it up, but you still couldn’t quite make out what the tattoos were.

“Hold out your left arm and close your eyes,” he instructed. You grinned and did as you were told. The cyborg gently slid the glove on your metal arm, making sure not to force it when something got caught. The pressure was still uncomfortable on your attachment sites, but it wasn’t exactly painful. You felt his fingers brush over the highly sensitive skin of the sites, and you jerked away from the sudden sensation.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s okay. They’re just really sensitive,” you answered. Franky hummed a little, carefully pulling the sleeve away from the metal and skin as he pulled it the rest of the way up.

“They’ll likely be for a little while longer, unfortunately. But this will help protect them, and won’t rub against it,” he answered. He finally stopped fidgeting with the sleeve and pulled back.

“Alright. Open your eyes,” he said proudly. Your eyes opened, gaze going directly to your arm. It was… stunning. A sleeve of your dream tattoos swirled on your skin, looking freshly healed and vibrant. You moved your arm, elbow bending and circled your wrist. The material moved exactly like skin, and your eyes traveled to where the attachment site should be. It was covered and the top of the sleeve thinned into featherlight nothingness as it blended into your shoulder.

“Wow” you whispered under your breath. You knew the material was synthesized to be stronger than normal skin, resistant to blades, bullets, and heat. Your brows scrunched upwards, and you fought back tears as a smile curved your mouth. Words of gratitude bubbled in your throat, too many to express coherently. Tears spilled down your cheeks as a laugh forced its way out. You simply held your hands out for a hug, one metal and one seemingly flesh. Both men grinned as tears welled up in their own eyes, and they hugged you at the same time.

“Thank you” you whispered. It didn’t feel enough, but there weren’t words deep enough to express your gratitude.

“Of course!”

“Always,” they answered in tandem. More laughter rose from your chest as you pulled back to inspect the sleeve some more. You noticed the texture of it, and the wrinkles indicating your knuckles. There were even ‘calluses’ on your fingers, and lines on your palm. The only thing different from real skin was that the sleeve was devoid of hair. Franky had explained earlier that putting fibers like that on would pierce through the material, and weaken it somehow, but it was a small detail you were willing to give up.

“It’s incredible work” you said in a hushed tone. You finally noticed the rest of the visitors were crowded around on the other side of the bed, getting a closer look at your sleeve. You held out your arm, and various fingers reached out to touch it and trace over the lines of your tattoos. You could feel it all. It was distant, but you were assured that you would be able to feel everything as much as possible in the next few months.

You couldn’t stop smiling and staring at your arm until it was time to take it off so Law could check your attachment sites.

“You’re healing really well,” he said quietly. You smiled up at him, but looked away when your heart flipped as he returned your smile with a tiny one of his own.

“Is that a compliment?” you asked teasingly. Law scoffed and rolled his eyes playfully.

“You wish. A compliment to Chopper-ya and Franky-ya, and to myself,” he muttered. You giggled. Your ribs were still sore with the movement, but apparently Law did something while you were in surgery to speed up the healing of your ribs and sternum. You watched him as he leaned over you, his eyes focused on your attachment sites as he moved your arm about.

“Law?”

“Hmm?”

“I’ve been in this bed for days. When can I start moving and gods above, when can I bathe?” you pleaded. Law sighed.

“Yeah, you're right. You do smell,” he said as he pulled back to walk around the bed to check your other arm. You rolled your eyes.

“I know. If you’d let me, I’d be on my knees begging you to have mercy but you won’t let me out of bed,” you huffed. Law’s face flushed and he cleared his throat loudly. The double meaning of your words slammed into you and your cheeks heated with embarrassment. Your thoughts had drifted to thoughts of him in terms of… bedroom activities, but that was because you were so bored! It had been a week, and during that time, you were only allowed out of bed to go to the bathroom under strict supervision.

“I didn’t mean it like that… I mean I wouldn’t be opposed but- I mean I just think you’re ho- um. Attractive? But of course I’m sure you know that and get told that a lot, even though you’re a sadistic dork, which is quite an impressive contradiction… right? And I’ll just shut up now,” you stumbled through your attempt at correcting yourself desperately, looking anywhere but the man standing at your side. The words kept flowing out of your mouth, digging yourself into a deeper hole with each syllable. Your cheeks were burning, and you felt heat all over your face from your embarrassment. Silence seeped into the air thick with your humiliating words. You felt like it lasted for much longer than you know it did, and it was only interrupted by Law letting out a small chuckle. You sighed and hid your face behind your hands. The cool metal pressed against your heated face, and you groaned both in relief and embarrassment.

“A hot, sadistic dork, huh?” he teased in a low voice. You made a noise in your throat- somewhere between a squeak and a groan. You distantly felt him touch the back of your hands, trying to pull them away from your face. You resisted, and hissed a little in pain when the attachment sites burned with the effort. He pulled back immediately, his cool hands tracing your skin and checking the sites to make sure nothing was injured. Your hands had fallen from your face and the burning eased quickly, and you could only focus on his golden eyes tracing over your skin and his cool hands maneuvering your arm. His piercing gaze found your admiring one and you yanked your gaze to your arm. The attachment site was completely fine.

“You like that I’m a hot sadistic dork, don’t you?” he murmured. You could hear the amused smirk in his voice, and you looked resolutely up at the ceiling, not looking at him.

“You changed my life with these. I think you’re an amazing surgeon and our ally and friend” you said carefully, raising your hands briefly to demonstrate your point. Your cheeks still felt hot.

“That didn’t answer my question,” he answered teasingly. You huffed a sigh, closing your eyes as you let your head fall onto your pillow. You felt him place his hands on the mattress near your shoulder and lean over you to check the other attachment site. Your heart flipped.

“Fine. Yes. I like that you’re a stupidly hot, smart, nerdy, sadistic dork” you answered with faux annoyance. You opened your eyes with a scowl, wishing you could control your arms gently enough to cross your arms over your chest. He was peering down at you from above, gold eyes pinning you to the bed with mirth and amusement. A stupidly sexy smirk curved his lips.

“See? It wasn’t that hard to admit now, was it?” His eyes flicked to your lips before meeting your gaze again. He swallowed hard, and you followed the movement, trailing your eyes from his throat down to his toned, tattooed chest. You ripped your eyes back up to his gaze, now highly amused by your obvious actions. Guilt stabbed through you, and you looked away, turning your head to the side.

“Kinda was,” you said easily. Law pushed back so he was standing upright, and sat down in a chair. There was a moment of comfortable silence.

“You were with Zoro-ya, weren’t you?” he asked quietly. You sighed heavily.

“Yeah. I was. For a few years” you answered. Law hummed.

“So your type is men with big swords?” he asked cheekily. You looked over at him quickly in surprise, before laughing in shock and at his joke.

“Yeah I guess so” you said around giggles. Law smiled gently at you. It was late, and he had kicked your crewmates off his ship for the night. You didn’t need to be checked on through the night anymore, so his crew was catching up on sleep if they weren’t partying with your crewmates.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” he asked. You looked at him with a dying smile, and sighed.

“You want to know why Zoro and I broke up?” you guessed. The surgeon nodded. You sighed and settled on your bed on your side, with your arm tucked under your pillow to reduce the weight resting on the attachment site. It was still a little uncomfortable, but it wasn’t bad.

“If I’m honest, I’m not completely sure if we officially broke up. I got hurt protecting him after I told him we should run…” memories of the day flicked through your mind, and you shook your head a little before continuing, “I’m sure you know the details of the injuries and can piece together what happened. But he was knocked out for a bit, and I tried to protect him even then. I finally could call for help and only passed out when I knew one of my crew was there taking care of the Marines. Apparently he threw up when he saw my body, thinking I was dead, but then carried me back to the ship with whoever came to save us. I dunno if he was there when I was still asleep and recovering or what. But I do remember that when I was awake for good finally, he had to leave the room. Some night later, either that same one or the one after, I don’t remember, he came into my room and… yelled at me, I guess screamed at me?” The memory of his harsh words floated back to mind, and you closed your eyes in shame before looking at Law and continuing,

“He asked me why I protected him, saying he didn’t need saving. He was gripping my knee, and honestly I was scared he was going to crush it. He yelled at me, asking if I thought he was so weak that he needed saving, and what the hell I meant when I said I wasn’t thinking. He punched a hole in the wall above my head, and when I screamed, Luffy and Sanji ran in. He kept going though, keeping his fist in the wall he called me a weak pathetic piece of shit, how I could lose my arms to a wall, and that he wished the bomb had hit him so he wouldn’t need to see the person he was dating like… this,” you swallowed and cleared your throat. It was relieving to be able to tell someone what happened, instead of someone already knowing. It was hard to get the words out through your remembered fear, but it was still a relief to talk about it. Your gaze had wandered a little while you recalled the incident, and you looked back at the surgeon. His eyes were shadowed under his hat, but his jaw was clenched and his hands were curled into fists on his knees. You sighed, but continued with your story,

“Luffy dragged him out of the room and they fought. It took Luffy, Sanji, and Robin to restrain him until Luffy could break through his anger. Zoro even tried to attack Nami. He stayed away from me for a few days until he came to apologize. I had Franky right outside the door and had him keep it cracked open so he could intervene. I was probably kind of an asshole, but I was kind of surprised when he said he wanted to apologize. I asked if he really wanted to, and he said that Luffy told him he had to. I sarcastically said ‘oh thanks’ and he got kinda pissed and said ‘I’m trying to apologize, isn’t that enough?’ and I lost my shit. I yelled at him, saying that I wanted him to apologize when he means it, not because he was ordered to. Franky hauled Zoro’s ass out of the room and I haven’t seen him since. I don’t honestly know how to be around him anymore, but I love the crew,” you finished. You almost expected to cry during the story, but at this point, you were numb towards it. It happened, and nothing was going to change how he broke your heart.

You glanced at Law, who hadn’t moved, before shifting to lay on your back to ease the discomfort of your arm. You let the silence hang like the stickiness of humidity. It was a few minutes before Law spoke.

“Join my crew.”

You looked at him in shock, sitting up and turning fully towards him.

“What?”

“Just for a few months, until you feel comfortable going back to your own crew. Unless you decide you want to stay here. We run into the Straw Pirates often enough, especially if we keep this alliance,” he explained. You looked at him in surprise, but looked to the side as you started thinking.

“Law…” you started. He interrupted you.

“Don’t decide now. Think about it for a while and talk to your crew. I… I know that you kind of have something going on with that curly-browed cook too, and he will treat you exactly how you deserve. Better than I ever could. So think about it. We can sail near the Straw Hats for a little while too. It’s up to you,” Law stood and walked to the door, shoes tapping loudly in your shocked silence. He tossed a small smile over his shoulder before speaking again.

“Get some rest, and we’ll have Chopper help give you a bath tomorrow, okay? We’ll see how you feel walking around after that,” Law said. You nodded, and he opened the door to leave.

“Law” you called. He stopped, looking back at you with a raised brow.

“Thank you, for the offer. I’m seriously thinking about it,” you said. This time he nodded.

“Good.” He stepped out of the room and closed the door quietly. You flopped down back on the bed, thinking about his words.

I know that you kind of have something going on with that curly-browed cook too, and he will treat you exactly how you deserve. Better than I ever could. So think about it.

What did he mean by ‘better than I ever could’? Did he also feel the connection between the two of you?

Thoughts swirled around your head. You’d desperately miss your crew, who was family, but you’d be healing and could go back to them. But if you stayed here, you could fall in love with Law, or at least have something with him. You also did, admittedly, have something with Sanji, who cared for you and you knew would treat you right. But if you did get with Sanji, that could cause even more tension with Zoro. But if you went back to the Straw Hats, then you’d have Chopper, Franky, and Usopp to help you get used to your arm and training you, but Luffy was also reckless and you could end up in a situation you weren’t ready for. Law was meticulous and an incredible surgeon, and his crew were well trained in terms of mechanics, so it would be fine to stay with them. But if you stayed with them, then you’d really miss your family, but if you went back to them, you’d have to deal with living with Zoro, but if you stayed with the Heart Pirates, then you wouldn’t know how to live with Zoro and would have to adjust while also adjusting to living with the rest of them again.

You heaved a sigh, the thoughts swirling and circling back to each other in your head. You settled down in your heap of blankets and pillows, letting your thoughts sway your mind into a fitful sleep.

Those who asked to be tagged: @@blue-rae18 @metonimia-de-bellota @perilous-pasta @thesleppybitch darkartincub0-blog @letssayless @brokenangstyheart @stachelrose @fluffybunnyu @yunho-leeknow @admoonchild @lakkiiii @khjcoo

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ohara-n-brown · 5 days

Text

The way people talk over Black Autistic people is... Mind-Boggling. Truly.

There are so many people in the autistic community that genuinely believe that them and Black Autistic people have the same experience, and that everything Black Autistic people go through they go through as well.

That's NOT TRUE.

Black Autistics face more questioning and doubt than White Autistics do.

Yes, all Autistics face doubt.

But when White Autistics face doubt they're often told 'You aren't autistic' - as in YOU in specific are not Autistic.

Meanwhile when Black Autistics face doubt we're often told 'You CAN'T be autistic'. Not just 'You aren't', but you can't.

As in 'You physically, biologically CANNOT be autistic because you are black'.

Do you see the difference?

I've had multiple people say to me 'I didn't know you can be black and autistic', or 'I didn't know black autistic people existed.'

Our mere existence as an entire GROUP is called into question. Because of our race.

No one will ever say 'I didn't know you can be white and autistic' because Autistic Representation revolves around Whiteness.

And yes, 99% of people with autism had communication issues.

But if you're a white autistic person you have never had to decode micoagressive racism through the lens of your autism.

- Especially at risk of your safety or life.

Allistic black people already have to carefully choose our behavior and wording with law enforcement under threat of imprisonment or outright on-the-spot execution.

Now imagine having to navigate conversations with law enforcement while also autistic.

Especially knowing that most of the time when a mentally disabled person is killed by law enforcement - they are usually also black.

Elijah McClain and Ryan Gainer - both autistic AND BLACK. Osaze Osagie - also black.

So even if you say that all autistic people experience this, it's very clear that Black Autistic people face it to a higher, more dangerous degree.

We are not 1:1. We are not the same.

This doesn't even factor in things like having to learn to codeswitch or speak AAVE. Or how predominately black schools have less resources for their autistic students.

Or how many professionals in mental health DON'T diagnose black people because they've never studied the Black Autistic experience, and thus cannot spot it.

Or how many Black people that ARE identified to be neurodivergent are instead labeled with ODD or BPD instead.

There are so many layers and factors to this that cannot be ignored.

The autism community needs to get better at understanding intersectionality. We need to get better at representing Autistics of color for ALL levels.

And y'all need to stop talking over Black Autistics. Our experiences are not the same. And that's okay.

#neurodivergent #actually autistic #autism #audhd #neurodivergency #neurodiversity #actually audhd #actually autism #poc #bipoc #intersectionality #racism #anti blackness #antiblackness #black erasure #poc representation

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awakentrashpanda · 4 months

Text

Smiling Critters incorrect quotes

Dogday: What is the code etomologists use for "I stepped on it, I'm so sorry, it was dark out and the specimen was very small?"

Bubba Bubbaphant: "Impromptu dissection was performed under less-than-optimal lighting conditions."

Catnap: "Impromptu dissection" is an alarming phrase in any context and I thank you for it.

KickinChickin: What’s biologist for "the little f⭐️cker BIT me and I yote it into the undergrowth on reflex?"

Bubba Bubbaphant: "The specimen was removed from the study pool due to abnormal interaction responses."

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Hoppy Hopscotch: You look like a corpse that was just pulled out of the river.  KickinChickin: Wrong. I look like a cool rock star who just OD'd in their own pool. Big difference.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Hoppy Hopscotch: Nothing in life is free.  Bobby Bearhug: Love is free.  Bubba Bubbaphant: Knowledge is free.  Craftycorn: Friendship is free.  Dogday: Self-respect is free.  KickinChickin: Everything's free if you don't pay for it.  The Squad: ...  PickyPiggy: Kickin, that's illegal-  Hoppy Hopscotch: No, let him finish!

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Bubba Bubbaphant: Are you tall enough to play basketball though?  Hoppy Hopscotch: Are you calling me short?  Bubba Bubbaphant: I'm calling you vertically challenged.

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

KickinChickin: You have Crayons?  Craftycorn: Yes, I have—  KickinChickin: You're— how old are you?  Craftycorn (in tears): YES I AM AN ADULT AND I HAVE CRAYONS, I HAVE A BOX OF EMERGENCY CRAYONS IN THE CABINET UNDER THE TV BECAUSE EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS SOMETIMES, OKAY? EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS.

🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨

PickyPiggy: *standing at the top of the stairs* What are y'all doing at the bottom of the staircase?  Catnap: I accidentally fell down.  Bubba Bubbaphant: CATNAP PUSHED ME down the stairs because I refuse to pay HIS part of our rent!  Dogday: Catnap bet me fifty bucks that I couldn't reach the bottom of the stairs faster than they did falling down it, so I slide down the banister to get my money.  KickinChickin: I don't know how I got here. One moment, I was sleeping in my bed, three floors up, and then suddenly I was waking up here, just in time to get crushed by Dogday.

💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡

Dogday: I love you.  Catnap: How many people have you said that to?  Dogday: Everyone.  Catnap: What?  Dogday: I told everyone that I love you.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

Craftycorn: Why does Picky always do the laundry so loudly?  Bobby Bearhug: So everyone knows that no one helps her out in the house.  PickyPiggy, in the distance: *slams the washing machine shut*

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

PickyPiggy: So Hunny-bunny, how did your first time cooking dinner go?  Hoppy Hopscotch: Pretty good if I do say so myself.  PickyPiggy: Oo! Okay, what are we having?  Hoppy Hopscotch: Alright, so for appetizers, we have a potato.  PickyPiggy: A whole potato?  Hoppy Hopscotch: Yes. And then for the main course, we have grilled cheese sandwiches!  PickyPiggy: These just look like big slabs of black.  Hoppy Hopscotch: Because that's what they are!  Hoppy Hopscotch: And then for desert, we have chocolate.  PickyPiggy: These are just chocolate chips?  Hoppy Hopscotch: They sure are!  Hoppy Hopscotch: And then for drinks, we have toast!  Hoppy Hopscotch: *lifts up a glass of blended toast* Bon appetite!

🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻

KickinChickin: I have a plan.

PickyPiggy: Good! As long as we aren’t breaking the law again, I’m open to hearing it.

KickinChickin: …

PickyPiggy: …

KickinChickin: I no longer have a plan.

🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

PickyPiggy: why can’t any of y’all ever come up with a plan that doesn’t involve breaking the law?

Bubba Bubbaphant (awkwardly looking over at KickinChickin and Hoppy Hopscotch): Picky…You do realize that three of us have been to prison before, right?

🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤

KickinChickin: Have I ever told you that I love you like the mom I never had?  PickyPiggy: For the love of all that is holy, I am not taking you to McDonalds. It’s 2am!  KickinChickin: Mean.

🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰

Hoppy Hopscotch: I'm sorry. Please talk to me.  PickyPiggy:  Hoppy Hopscotch: Hello? World's most amazing person?? Sweet pea? Precious cinnamon roll that's too good for this world, too pure?  PickyPiggy: Hmf! 'Sorry' ain’t never gonna bring back my f🍎cking M&Ms.

🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄

Bubba Bubbaphant: What do we think of Dogday?  *pause*  Hoppy Hopscotch: *shrugs* Nice pal.  Bobby Bearhug: I think he’s gay.

🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘

KickinChickin: That was so hot, Bubba.  Bubba Bubbaphant: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenterate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets.  KickinChickin: I'm so in love with you.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

KickinChickin: Now, if I may speak for good-looking people everywhere...  Catnap: Only as their rodeo clown.

🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷

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neesieiumz · 1 year

Text

venus ⸻⸻⸻ k.nanami

synopsis ⸻⸻ after five years of you being his lawyer, nanami shows you just how much he appreciates you

warnings ⸻⸻ smut. 18+ minors do not interact. lawyer!reader. mafia!nanami. black-coded reader. female reader. afab anatomy. praise kink. slight degradation kink. kento has a thing for your titties. starts off with him being arrested. slight open ending incase i feel like doing a part two. slight power imbalance (after all, he's fucking his lawyer.)

writer notes ⸻⸻ yes yes i know. *another one*. I'm in love with this man and you can't keep him away from me. will it surprise y'all that i started this a month ago and just finished it now? anyways, i hope you all enjoy it! see you in the next one.

wc ⸻ 4.5k

Who would have thought one’s life would be this way?

You remember the days, desk surrounded by coffee and energy drinks, books as thick as statues as you studied for your next exam in Legal Methods. Hair matted for days, not even knowing when your next shower is. Struggles while at Law school, to take the bar exam, every single decision has led you to this very moment in your life.

You stood amid the officer, staring at you as if their looks will put you six feet into the ground, “If that is all, you have absolutely nothing to hold my client. Release him immediately.”

Blonde hair and brown eyes stare at you, as the officer in front of him glanced between the two of you. The man sighed, pulling his ring of keys. The detective standing not too far from you turned to glare at him, but he had already moved to take the cuffs of your client. Kento rose up, his figure towering above rest as he rolled down his sleeves, buttoning his cufflinks. Taking a deep breath, you moved out of the way, allowing Kento to leave first before following him. You walked towards the receptionist's desk, grabbing the release papers for him. He didn't say anything as he waited, leaning right near you as you filled out the papers. The smell of off-stale coffee and donuts soon permeated your senses as some stood right next to you.

“How does it feel to represent someone who has killed people,” you felt someone whisper in your ear.

You glanced to your left, the detective that was standing too far from you back in the interrogation room. She glared at you, hard as you finished signing the final line. Handing the papers to the detective herself, you gave her a smile, a cold one.

“You forget the word allegedly, and on the 1000-thread silk sheets with the money, he pays me,” you whisper back to her, before looking over at Kento.

With that single look, Kento stood up and followed right behind you. He pushed slightly in front of you, opening the door for you, allowing you to walk into the cold night. There stood a car, with a tall standing man right near the back entrances. Once Kento got close, he bowed before opening the door and gesturing towards it. You glanced towards Kento, who stood right behind you, taking your briefcase from your hands. A normal routine was what ran through your mind as you climbed into the low-rise small limo. You got comfortable as Kento took the seat in front of you. The man closed the door, before running around towards the front. The moment the door shut, you relaxed into your seat, sighing as you fell back into the comforting leather. You reached over, grabbing a rose champagne bottle, which was pineapple flavored along. Along with the drink, you grabbed a clean glass.

“Kento, you are probably my favorite client but please, never again get arrested like that again,” you grumbled, pouring out the drink, and filling it to the brim.

The car began to move at the same time he chuckled, the low rumble matching the roar of the car.

“Probably? You act as if it was my intention to get arrested like that,” he says, rubbing his fingers against his temples.

“But still Kento,” you said, “if you’re gonna make big moves, let me know. If I have to jump out of my hot jacuzzi bath because you got taken down to the big house, I would like it to be known.”

He grabbed a glass from his side of the car, holding it out towards you. Leaning forward, you poured out teh rose for him. As you pour, glancing towards his eyes, seeing them linger along your chest, before looking away.

“Thought you were more of a red person?” You asked, leaning back and taking another sip of your drink.

“In the mood for just about anything right now. I feel sloppy, tired even. I haven’t been on top of things, that’s probably how they even arrested me.”

Shuffling in your seat, you stared at the man, as he swirled the rosé within the glass. His hair was ruffled, his eyes heavy with bags, and his eyes strained with red. He took a sip of the alcohol, taking a long one before pulling it away from his lips. A bit of it dripped down his lips, his tongue flicking, licking up the rest of his lips as well. Taking a deep breath, you looked away, taking another sip of your drink as well.

“Well then, you’re lucky I’m very good at my job then,” you smirked, causing him to glance at you, “fuck up all you need to get your head back in the game Kento, I’ll make sure the law doesn't bother you.”

You glanced at the text once more.

Come by Venus in an hour. Dress up a bit. Leave the pantsuits at home.

You could almost scoff at that last sentence in his sentence. This wasn't the first time you were invited to Kento’s clubs, one of his many places of income. Venus was one of his new places, which opened up a year ago. There were many times your own friends had invited you out to the exclusive nightclub. They knew of your relationship with the owner and hoped you would be able to get them in. You had only gone there for meetings with him concerning the legalities of his endeavors, but the way he texted you, he wanted you to come over for something more informal. It's been over ten minutes, and he’s probably seen that you’ve read his text. Walking around your penthouse, you glanced around at everything, massaging your temples. Heart pounding, you look around your place one more time. Glancing back down at your phone, you let out a sigh, before typing out a response.

Fine. Don’t make me regret it. Kento

With that, you moved with purpose, going up the stairs to your room. With you already freshly showered, it wasn't a matter until you found something to wear. It was an impulsive decision, a red latex dress with a side split, showing off some cleavage. You pushed back your faux locs behind your ears and shoulders, showing off the amount of skin you were showing. Grabbing a red coat, draping it over your shoulders as well. You picked up a simple pearl layered necklace, with its matching earrings and bracelet, you are set. Grabbing your things and stuffing them within a red latex bag that matched the outfit, you head out. Before you left, you grabbed a pair of sunglasses, holding them right in your hands as you walked down the steps of your high-rise luxury place.

The club was packed, lines stretching down the way. The moment you pulled up, a person came and opened your door, immediately prompting you to turn off your car. One of the valet people helped you out of your car, their gloved hand matching your own. You handed the keys to another person who handed you a ticket. As soon as you took another step, a man dressed in an all-black suit appeared right beside you.

“Mr. Nanami is expecting you inside, ma’am,” he guided you towards the door with his hands.

Saying no words, you nodded, the man escorting you inside as well. The interior was glowing a deep red color, an irony considering your chosen outfit for tonight. Money was everywhere, within every step you took. Velvet couches surrounded poles, dancers for parties twisting and folding themselves along the poles. The air smelled rich, expensive alcohol being seen at every turn, carried by different bottle girls.

Taking a breath, you followed the club bouncer through the crowds, eyes not leaving all the different exotic dancers. He led towards the twisting stairs, cut off from the rest of the world by two other bouncers in matching uniforms to the one leading you and velvet rope. The man whispered to his coworkers, who glanced at you and at their tablets before nodding. The man to the right reached for the velvet robe hook, unhooking it and gesturing for you to go up the stairs. The man continued to lead you up the stairs. As you reached the top of the stairs, past the guards that were posted there as well, you found the area calmer, and more serene yet it was even more intoxicating than the ambiance on the lower floor.

You swayed through the crowd, eyes drifting to those all around you. As you passed by a couch, you caught eyes with a certain blue, peeking from tinted glasses. Beside him, his usual companion, two peas in a pod people would call them. Kento would call them acquaintances, while they would call him “his closest friends.” Before the man could lay eyes upon you, you looked away and continued on your journey to the man who invited you to this very place.

As you walked further and further into the crowd, the lights dimmed darker and darker, until you couldn't see barely two feet in front of you. There were not as many people around anymore, and it seemed they were standing around something. The bouncer sifted through the crowds, the people parting their way to let you two through. He soon approached a door, locked behind an ID scanner. The bouncer who led you here pulled his own out, pressing it against the small machine. The door unlocked, revealing a short hallway leading into some kind of private living room. Ahead was a couch, surrounded by a few people as well. And in the midst of them, was the man himself, Kento Nanami. He wore a white shirt, ruffled with its first few buttons unbuttoned. He was mostly alone on the couch, with two of his associates he often does business with. He was talking slowly amongst himself, taking sips from his crystal glass.

The bouncer soon stopped right in front of the couch, nodding to Kento before gesturing toward you. The moment his eyes landed upon you, he rose up from his lean position, eyes locking with you. The bouncer nodded one more time at his boss, before walking away, disappearing back into the real world. The blond man stared at you for a few more moments, before smirking right at you. The two people he was talking to also looked at you, but your focus was right on Kento. You took a couple of steps towards him, walking around the small table the men had amongst themselves. Kento closed his legs up, making even more room for you as you sat down right beside him.

Kento glanced at his two associates, who looked amongst themselves before getting up at the same time. At the same time, the people who were also doing business within the room got up, without a word filed out of the room. They gave a slight head nod towards Kento before waving off into the crowd, probably up to the lower floor to chat up some poor girls. It was just the two of you for a moment before a girl came up with a tray. She placed down a tall wine glass, along with a bottle of wine, rosé to be more specific. It was your favorite bottle too, one of the more expensive bottles. One that you usually get when you’ve had huge wins. The girl nodded toward Kento, before holding the tray close to her body and walking off. The moment she was gone, it was just the two of you, as if the people around you dissipated.

Kento grabbed the bottle of wine, twisting the top off of it with ease. You heard a pop, with slight steam flowing out of the bottle. He poured it out, filling it ⅔ of the way before placing the bottle down, taking the wine glass in his hands, and handing it over to you. You thanked him quietly, before taking a sip of the wine. As you sipped, Kento grabbed the bottle of whiskey on the table, refilling his own glass. Keeping your eyes on him as he finished poring, placing the bottle down, and taking another sip of his hard drink. You took another sip at the same time as he did, lowering your glass and looking over at him.

“Why am I here, Kento?”

The man sighed, leaning back into his side of the couch, “I just wanted to have a celebration with you, a more private one.”

You said nothing, continuing to look at him with a knowing look. The man smirked, letting out an almost silent chuckle.

“It’s been five years to the date since I officially asked you to be my lawyer.”

You blinked, sitting up a bit in your seat. Pulling out your phone from your purse, you glanced at the date under the time. May 14th. He was right, the anniversary of him officially asking to be your client. At the time, you were an overworked and underpaid lawyer at a big-time law firm. Your bosses were putting major cases on you, you did all the evidence finding and the hotshot lawyers above you would take your findings and use them in court. Using your hard work and they took all the glory for it. Kento saw how they took advantage, his previous lawyer being one of his bosses in fact. He offered you a deal, a way out. With that, you built your own law firm, with his support being the main backbone. Kento Nanami was your first client, and the reason you are as successful as you are now.

You looked over at him, giving him a soft smile, “why, yes it is. Can’t believe you remember that to date. I didn’t even remember”

He nodded, taking another sip of his drink, “I tend to remember things important to me. You were an overworked, unappreciated lawyer and I was someone who had fired their own lawyer.”

You rolled your eyes at that, “yeah “fired” and right after that, you had to face a jury on whether or not you torched the man to death, Kento.”

Scoffing, you took another sip of your drink, looking away from him.

“Yeah, but you can’t lie, you liked the rush.” You glanced over at him the moment he said those words.

You couldn’t deny that you thought to yourself as you smirked. Taking another sip of your wine, looking at Kento as he placed his glass down. The two of you looked at each other for a moment, unresisting in the way your eyes glanced over his huge form once more. You couldn't lie to yourself, Kento Nanami was a desperately handsome man.

“The rush is definitely a nice perk to the job but that check you paid me after was extra nice,” you winked at him, heart pounding away in your chest.

The more sweet wine you took, the more your inner inhibitions cracked. You could feel the blood rush through your veins, feeling hotter and constricted within this dark area. You knew there were people around you, but the room was so dark that you couldn’t even see anyone around the two of you. Finishing the glass, you held out your hand with it, expecting more which he fulfilled with ease. He lifted his own glass in his hand, before tipping it towards you, clinking them together.

“To a longer partnership,” he cheered, and you smiled a bit, cheering with him.

“A long partnership.”

The both of you took a long sip, sighing before placing your glasses down on the table before you. You looked around in the low-lit room, the golden spotlights glowing against the golden-themed room. Feeling slightly cold hands rest upon your chin, you found yourself behind turned to face right back at Kento. Glancing down at his fingers before looking back at the man, narrowing your eyes at him.

“What’s your game here, Kento?” Your voice lowered when you spoke his name.

He shook his head slightly, “no games here for me, just appreciating what’s in front of me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “In front of you, you say?”

“you ask me to come to your nightclub, an exclusive nightclub at that. You ‘say’ you just want to celebrate our partnership, but I’m not an idiot, Kento Nanami. You know this.”

As you spoke, you leaned closer, your large red coat falling off your body as you did, revealing the straps of your glossy red dress. His eyes dropped down to your cleavage, revealed by the low dive of the neckline. Easily, you maneuvered the rest of your coat off your body, the huge fabric falling onto the couch. Reaching up, you placed your thumb right on his lips, and the feeling of his soft lips electrified you.

“Well,” he said with a softness you’ve never heard from him, “what exactly do you want me to say?”

Right after he said that his hand came up around your bottom, stroking it against the smooth latex. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at him but the smile was still present on your face. His hand soon moved down to your neck, slowly wiping away the little bit of sweat that was dripping down your neck. The tension that had always built between the two of you was reaching an all-time high as your own hands found their way to his collar, fumbling with the ruffled collar.

His large hands found their way around your hips, lifting you up with ease before placing you right on his lap. With no more words that could be said, you rested your hands against his chest before he captured your lips into a hot heavy kiss. The force stumbled you back for a moment but you kissed back immediately, gripping at his pure white shirt. You could feel his hands slide to your hips before scooping up around your bottom, grabbing at the rubber-like material on your body.

You could feel yourself grind against him, desperate for some kind of feeling. Hands gripping his shirt, they fumbled against the crisp fabric, trying their best to unbutton the dress shirt. His own hands come up to your zipper, quickly unzipping it, a cool air breeze against your open back. Frustrated, you took the top of his shirt, before ripping it, buttons flying all over the place. Feeling him smirk, hands shifting underneath your dress, grabbing at bare skin and the matching red lace panties you wore underneath the dress. His hands guided you, lifting and resting your hips against him. He commanded your every movement, your pussy dripping against him as he did so. Placing your hands on him, hands resting on top of muscular pecs. The sudden cool air you felt dissipated, heat rising between the two of you.

Letting go of the kiss, you braced your arms around him as his hands moved up from your ass. He grabbed at the rest of the dress, slowly peeling it off your body and revealing your breasts to him, no bra. The dress began to pool around your hips as he lifted you up into the air. Immediately, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you towards another room, one with a bed in it. Barely paying attention to what's around you, he basically dropped you onto the soft bed, before climbing right on top of you. With a quick motion, he removed the rest of the dress off you, leaving you in nothing but your thin lace panties. He tore off the scarps of a shirt before slowly unbuttoning his pants, and sitting right on top of you. Kento grabbed the back of your left leg, slowly pushing back as he sunk further and further down toward you.

Once he was close enough, he captured you into a heavy kiss, his free hand coming to your titty, giving it a quick squeeze. You gasped into the kiss as he did so, wrapping your arms around him to pull him closer. He soon let go of the kiss, giving you a quick and light kiss all down your neck before dipping into the valley between your breasts. Once he reached one, he wrapped his lips around your nipple, eyes closing as he sucked away at it. His other hand rested on your other titty, massaging within his heavy hand. Back arching, clenching around nothing as you hissed in pleasure. He hummed against your warm skin, tongue swirling around the sensitive tit. Slowing down his massages, he wrapped his thick fingers around your free nipple, slowly pressing down and adding pressure.

Moaning, you couldn't help but say, “I always knew you had a thing for them.”

Inhaling sharply at the sudden pinch of pain that shot through you, you narrowed your eyes at Kento who smirked as much as he could against you before lifting his head up. His lips wet with drool, he immediately switched between the two, sucking away as well. You were soaked, pussy dripping away within your panties as he did this. Soon he let go before immediately moving down, resting his hands around your hips, and maneuvering his fingers underneath the lingerie. He pulled them off your body, throwing them onto the floor. His eyes stared right up at you as he lowered his head, before glazing down and focusing on what he was doing.

“Oh fuck—” your loud voice cut through, and your head was thrown back as you felt his lips wrap around your clit, sucking away harshly at it as well.

You could feel his fingers rubbing circles into your inner thighs licking and sucking away at your pussy. Feeling his thumb, parting your inner labia before placing his lips right back on your sopping cunt. Your body squirmed, yet his firm hold on your thigh could only get you so far. He was a madman, sinking two of his fingers within you as he continued to eat away at you. Kento brought you to depths you had yet to understand yet, and the highlight of the night wasn’t even here.

“So wet,” he mumbled against you, leaving wet kisses against you.

You cried, curling into him as he continuously devoured within you, sinking another finger into you “want more, please, please, fuckfuck, gimme more! Fuck!—!”

You screeched, back arching towards the sky as you came unexpectedly, clenched tightly around his now three fingers still moving deep within you. Your hands suddenly weaved themselves within his blond hair, pulling harshly as your arousal dripped all over him. Your sudden orgasm deterred nothing from him, Kento still lapping away at and within you as if you didn’t reach your peak of the night. Your body began trembling unconsciously, your clit feeling the effects of overstimulation.

“Oh wait, fuck fuck fuck too much! Oh my GOD!”

Still, he didn’t stop, his ministrations leading you to another, much shorter orgasm for the night. Breathing heavily as you felt him slowly remove himself from you. Arms stretched across your face as you caught your breath, peeking from behind as you caught a glance of him slowly removing his boxers. Once he tossed his boxers to the ground, he reached out towards you, screeching as he grabbed at your hips before pulling down towards him a bit. He wrapped your legs around his own waist again, lifting right up off the bed. Cursing, you immediately hold onto him across his neck, so you don’t fall. About to speak, before feeling sudden pressure right against your cunt. Slowly, he lowered you down, his thickness stretching you out in different ways.

“Kento, oh, oh my fucking god!”

His loud heavy grunts and groans resonated through the room, vibrating especially in your ear. Your grip on his was tight as he lifted you up and down his cock.

“Fuck— don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he groaned in your ear.

Gasping, you moved your face to look at him as he spoke to you.

“My pretty little lawyer, all fucked out, look at you,” his tone had a twinge of condescension.

“You’ve been so good to me these past five years,—fuck— “

His words had you clenching around, unable to say anything as his thrust got quicker and quicker, hitting deeper and deeper inside you. His lips soon began pressing harsh kisses on your neck, feeling his hot breath blow against your sensitive skin.

“Taking me so fucking well,” he mumbled again, his tongue lapping up the sweat dripping down.

“Kento,” you moaned, “oh my god, ohmygod ohmygod,” was all you could say as you convulsed within his hold, feeling his mushroom tip kiss up against your cervix.

“Hmm, you gonna come for me, you gonna come all over me?” His own thrusts were erratic, his short hair falling over his forehead.

Throwing your head back as your body let off a violent tremble, “yesyesyesYES!”

With that final shout, your orgasm came crashing down, spilling all over him. Your shaky movements didn’t stop Kento, his thrusts still as heavy as your cum dripping down your thighs. His actions consumed you all over again, before letting out a heavy groan, slamming into you for the final. Gasping, feeling the way he filled you up, his grip on your thighs having the possibility of leaving deep-dark bruises all over.

“Fuc…” gasping, your head dropping onto his shoulder.

You could feel him carrying you towards the bed, before slowly laying you across the comfortable sheets and blankets. Slowly regaining feeling within your limbs, you began to sit up as you felt the space beside you sink down. You pulled the blanket up to you, relishing in the soft feel as you saw a movement towards your right. Glancing over, you found a hand holding a glass with ice within it. Thanking him softly, you took the glass before taking a sip, the drink cooling your body down. It allowed you to move up, sitting up fully, bringing the comforter with you.

“Feeling better?” His voice was slightly hoarse as he asked you

You nodded your head, not saying anything as you finished the glass, placing it on the nightside table. You could feel the comforter move right under you before feeling warm arms wrapped around, squealing before feeling pull you down into the bed. You couldn't help but giggle, squirming a bit as you felt his warm breath brush up against the hairs of your neck.

“If only your men knew how much of a cuddle buddy you are,” you mumbled against him, feeling his arms wrapped around your waist and hips.

You placed your own hands underneath your head, right on top of his chest.

“Well then, looks like it's another secret for you to keep then.”

You laughed at that, before slowly closing your eyes, a heavy tired feeling falling over the two of you.

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