#they took out all the moments of her acting like a kid </3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gothbitez · 1 year

Text

well, two can play that game ; ellie williams

pairing: college!ellie willams x afab!reader

chapter: one-shot (4.6k words)

warnings: 18+ content, minors do not interact!! dom!ellie x femme!reader, poc friendly, sexual content, angst, past relationship, jealousy, abby x reader (briefly for plot tension), reader and ellie are toxic petty, semi-public sex, hatesex if u squint but they love each other so idk angry sex is more accurate.

summary: you and ellie hadn't spoken since you broke up a few months ago and suddenly she shows up to this party with another girl on her arm.

inspired by heartbeat by childish gambino

author's note: soo linger got so much more love than I expected I love u guys wish I could respond to comments or follow y'all back but this isn't my main acc rip, just know that I'm lurking and appreciate all the reblogs and love <3

:::

Disclaimer: I do not support the genocide of the indigenous Palestinian people, and neither should you, please don’t buy the new Remastered or continue giving any more money to Druckmann. Educate yourself, learn the history, it is vital. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free 🇵🇸

The music was booming, noise reverberated through the walls of the home belonging to whichever current popular kid was hosting this weeks Friday party.

You had been in a bit of a rut recently, not really taking time out of your schedule to have fun and live like you should be living, Dina was aware of that. So today, she had forced convinced you to come to some sports-heads party.

"Come on, get dressed" She had said, with a smug smile as you lifted yourself off the bed and into your bathroom to get ready. You had worn a silky, long black skirt. It reached the ends of your shins with a long slit that exposed your leg all the way up to your thigh. On top, you wore a simple tee, with a long strip of thick eyeliner along your skin.

And here you were. Sighing to yourself as you watched the typical acts of debauchery unfold amongst your peers. A bottle of alcohol was soon in your line of sight, Dina holding it up to you after just having taken a swig herself. "Here, looks like you need it."

You grabbed the clear bottle and drank, grimacing at the harsh taste that was developing in your mouth. You, Dina and Jesse had settled on sitting in-front of the couch on the floor, you tended to be a floor sitter; being crosslegged was quite comfortable.

In that moment, the front door of the owner's house swung open, and you felt your heart drop. In walks Ellie Williams, your ex-girlfriend, with another girl clutching on to her arm. You watched as the duo did their rounds, greeting the people they knew and joking briefly. Ellie looked around the living room, looking for a place to base, her green eyes landed on where you, Dina and Jesse were sat before making her way over, causing you to sigh.

That was possibly the last thing you had wanted, to be in an environment with your ex and her new conquest. You and Ellie had broken up a few months ago, not through lack of love, and definitely not due to bad sex. Quite the opposite. Ellie had a habit of self-sabotage, you'd get close to her and then one day she'd freeze and want to cut off all connection. She was a ghost, you knew this. That's why you broke up in the first place. It had been a painful wound which had still not healed over.

Technically, you had no say. There was nothing you could say about her sitting with you guys, Dina was Ellie's friend as much as she was yours, and despite the painful breakup, you wouldn't force her to pick sides. It would've been nice to know in advance that Ellie was going to come, though. At least then you could've prepared for the pang in your chest as the girl interlocked her fingers onto Ellie's as they sat. Dina threw you a sympathetic look, as if to say, 'I didn't know she was gonna be here..'

You took another swig of the alcohol as conversations between Ellie and the group started, knowing you couldn't avoid her any longer. You hadn't spoken to each other since she left, there were so many things left unsaid. Focusing on the music, you nodded your head along to the beat of the song that was playing over the speakers, your eyes glancing at the crowd dancing in the middle of the living room, observing.

You suddenly got the sense that you were being watched, your eyes flickered away from the crowd and into the green eyes that were staring you down from across the group. Ellie looked at you with no expression, her hand resting on the unknown girl's thigh. She caught your eyes look down towards her hand and glanced back up to you. What was she trying to achieve here? Make you feel worse?

You broke the eye contact, preferring to get up off the floor and making your way into the kitchen to head out into the host's backyard. You heard Dina ask where you were going but you hadn't registered her voice in time to reply.

Your body was met with cold temperatures as soon as you passed through the backdoor, you mentally groaned as your jacket was not warm enough to keep you warm. Glancing around, you took note of where groups of people were sat talking to each other, you just needed a moment to yourself. You gravitated towards the quietest spot in the backyard, liking how there wasn't much activity and sat yourself down, perched with your chest resting on your legs.

Grabbing a pack of cigarettes from your jacket pocket, you singled one out from the deck and brought it up your lips. With the cigarette secure against your lips, you reached down, searching for a lighter, your head facing the floor, before you heard the familiar flick of flint come from above you.

Looking up, you were met with the last person you had wanted to see in your time out. "How long are you going to pretend I don't exist?" she spoke, the first thing either of you had said to each other in months. Her arm was still holding the lit lighter, looking at you, waiting for you to light the cigarette.

Knowing how stubborn she is, you knew you had no choice but to bring your face closer to the lighter, meeting the flame and sparking the tobacco. "You're definitely not the one who should be asking that question." You muttered, inhaling the smoke.

"Look, what do you want me to say?" Ellie sighed, placing herself next to you before lighting her own cigarette. She was wearing her favourite grey hoodie, it was so worn you could see small tears in the sleeves. "Honestly, nothing right now, why don't you go back to the girl you brought with you? I'm sure she's missing your presence."

"She doesn't smoke, and I wanted one." "Well, you didn't have to sit here," you knew you were being harsh, but what else were you meant to do with the built-up hurt? If you took away the anger, what would you have left? Ellie sighed beside you, "We haven't spoken in months.." "And whose fault is that, Ellie?" You were looking at her now, eyes boring into hers.

"I know I shouldn't have left," she took a drag, exhaling as she spoke, "I wa-," Cutting her off, you spoke. "You were what? You didn't just leave, Ellie, you completely blindsided me. You think something's going well with someone and then they disappear. No explanation, no message, nothing!"

Hearing your words, her heart fell. She knew she had hurt you that day, but she felt scared. You were right, something was going well, so well that Ellie was scared she'd get hurt first. So she decided to end it before giving you the chance. "I didn't mean to hurt you," "Yeah? Too bad," you scoffed, "Cos you did." Finishing your cigarette, you stumped it out on the floor, forcing yourself up to your feet to go back to the living room. A hand stopped you, wrapping itself around your forearm preventing you from walking further. With a sigh, you turned to face her.

"You don't have to run away from me," Ellie said, voice low. Shivers travelled down your spine, as her eyes glanced to your lips, "I'm not contagious." "I don't want anything to do with you." You whispered, fighting every urge you had to just kiss her and make up. If you stayed here a minute longer, you knew you would cave to her. Despite how badly she had hurt you, you couldn't forget the way she made you feel. Knowing you still loved her, still felt the burning desire to kiss her.

Your thoughts focused on to the girl that had come with her tonight, your brows furrowed as anger washed over you. Ripping your arm out from her grip, you turned away and walked back inside to the party.

—

A week had passed, you were making your way to Dina's kitchen as you helped her set up the decorations, food and drink ready for her birthday party.

You had gotten completely dolled up, at least to your standards, wearing a band tee underneath a long, dark satin dress with your signature eyeliner. After all, it was Dina's birthday, you had to look nice. Besides, you were in hopes of getting some action tonight, knowing Dina had invited some girls from her class and you hadn't had any action since Ellie. It had been a... long time.

Ellie was helping at Dina's, too. Since your last conversation, things hadn't gotten better. Your hurt had somehow, shifted into snark, bickering with Ellie anytime you'd be in the same vicinity, which happened often.

Snark, petty comments and arguing. That's all Dina had heard between you and Ellie, at one point she thought you were about to kill each other. Dina had asked you about some guy that had approached you earlier on in the day. He had walked up to you with the utmost confidence that his flirting would be successful. You almost felt bad for him, the way his smile dropped when you told him you were a lesbian. Dina thought the story was hilarious and had asked you about it, upon hearing this, against her better judgement Ellie had made a comment about it which resulted in a heated argument between the two of you and Dina suddenly regretting her decision to bring it up. It had gotten so riled up that when Ellie stormed out of the room, she slammed the door so hard that it left visible cracks on the wall and the plant pot on the window beside it smashed into pieces.

"Okay, so... the bottles can go on this table and the food goes to that one with the bowls." Dina instructed, motioning you to put down the items you were carrying. Ellie had stayed in the living room moving the furniture around the room so that people could have more space to move, so Dina took her chance to talk to you.

"So, um.. you and Ellie haven't been doing so hot," she spoke, looking at you with a worried expression. "Well observed, Dina." "Hey, don't take your frustrations out on me, I'm an innocent bystander watching as world war three breaks out." She joked, lightly. "Sorry, it's just, I don't know what's changed but every time I look at her I just get so angry."

"I didn't say it wasn't justified, just worried about you guys, I'm friends with both of you and it's not nice seeing you two like this," Dina's hand went to rest on her hip as she spoke, emphasised her point, she sighed before continuing, "At least try and get laid tonight, fresh blood might make you less angry." She joked.

"Dina!" You groaned, before turning away from her and returning to the living room where people were beginning to show up.

A few hours go by and the party is in full swing, it wasn't crowded like last week's but more of a gathering, which you could handle. You had a few drinks, were nowhere near as drunk as some people, but you were at a nice level. You had spent an amount of the night away from your friends, after being introduced by Dina to this girl, Abby, one of the gays Dina had invited in hopes she could wingman you a date.

It was nice. Abby was incredibly attractive, she had long blonde hair and her arms were unlike anyone you had ever met. So muscular and big, you had a thing for slightly more masculine women, that's what got you in this mess with Ellie in the first place. Though, Abby and Ellie were complete opposites and if memory served correctly, you were pretty sure you remembered Ellie saying there was a girl in her class that she hated of the same name. Said girl had been involved in an altercation with Ellie, you honestly didn't remember why. You wondered if they were the same person.

Abby had completely distracted you from your worries with Ellie, revelling in the straight-forward way she would flirt with you and touch your thigh. It was nice to feel wanted.

Someone wasn't impressed, though. Ellie had been a sour mood all day because Cat had refused to come to the party with her, claiming that Ellie still had feelings for you and that's why she always cared enough to pick fights with you. Ellie denied this causing Cat to immediately break up with her on the spot. You had been on her mind today more than she cared to admit, and seeing you flirt with someone she absolutely despised, watching as Abby placed her hand on your exposed thigh, simply put, it pissed her off.

Dina watched Ellie carefully, not uttering a word when she saw her rolling her eyes at you both. "Can you believe that shit?" Ellie said, pointing at you from across the room. "Of all people, why is she entertaining that asshole?" "Ellie-," Dina was interrupted, "Laughing like her jokes are funny, she's the most boring person I've ever met," "Do-," "Who does she think she is?" "Ellie!" Dina shouted, "If you're that bothered, stop staring."

"I'm not staring.. they're just fucking gross." Ellie sighed, taking a swig of her beer. "You're staring. Go take a walk or something," Groaning, Ellie got up deciding to to the bathroom. Not that she needed it, she just couldn't bear the sight of you two any longer.

She stepped her way up the stairs, music and alcohol causing her to suddenly realise she was a bit more waved than she originally thought, either that or she got up too fast.

Stepping into the bathroom, she rested her hands on either side of the sink, looking at herself in the mirror. She could still feel the anger burn through her chest, igniting further as she remembered the ease with which Abby placed her hands on your thighs and the way you allowed it. Deep down she knew she had no right to be jealous, it was her fault after all. Yet, she cursed to herself as she thought back to the past weeks.

Cat had been right, of course. Ellie was in no way over her feelings for you, they never even left. She was just scared and jumped ship, and now this arguing and pettiness had only been an excuse so that you could have a way of talking to each other. Ellie's thought process was interrupted by someone knocking on the door and she knew her little breather was over and she'd have to face the world again.

Sighing, Ellie lifted herself off the sink and opened the bathroom door, not expecting you to have been the person who was knocking. "Oh, sorry I didn't know you were in there," you stated, your long eyeliner standing out in the dim light of corridor. Ellie had always loved when you wore that.

"It's alright, actually, I kinda wanted to talk to you," You quirked an eyebrow up at Ellie's words, "What did you wanna talk about?" "You should stay away from her, Abby, I mean. She's not a good person," Ellie quipped, the alcohol making her lips a lot looser than they would be if she was stone sober.

"Oh?" your features turned sour, "And who are you to tell me to stay away from her?" "I just wanted to let you know, no need to be a dick about it." "What makes you think I care about your opinions on my love life? You have no right." You were stepping up closer to her, frustration all over your features. "I heard you and Dina talking earlier, if you're gonna sleep with someone out of desperation at least pick someone better." Ellie squinted, her anger levels quickly rising as your voice raised, that seemed to piss you off even more. How dare she?

"If I want to fuck Abby, I will," you paused, noticing the way Ellie's chest was quickly rising as she took deep breaths, "It's none of your business." You voice lowered, Ellie's top lip sneering as she listened to you continue.

"She's nice, she's hot and have you seen her arms? I'm gonna sleep with her and there's nothing you can do to stop that." You whispered, knowing you were playing with fire but you couldn't stop yourself. Were you doing it on purpose? You weren't sure. You saw something in Ellie's eyes snap as soon as the words left your lips.

Within moments, your arm had been grabbed and you were being pulled into the bathroom. Ellie slammed the bathroom door shut and pushed you against it, the back of your head hitting the wood. "You sure about that?" Ellie muttered, she was seething, "I can think of many things I can do to stop that from happening." There was a snarl in her voice, a gruff raspiness that spurred you on.

"What was it specifically that pissed you off?" You teased, "The fact that it was her or the fact that it wasn't you?"

Ellie's hands trailed down to the back of your thighs, the only barrier being your long dress, with a firm grip she squeezed, causing a sigh to escape your lips. Truthfully, your comment about Abby's arms had touched a nerve, and Ellie found herself wanting to prove that she was just as strong as that meathead that was flirting with you. "Brave words for someone who threw a hissy fit the other day because she saw me with Cat."

You brought your hands from your sides to the back of Ellie's neck, silently wrapping your arm around her shoulders, Ellie's grip still tight on your thighs. Her face nearing your neck, "It's funny," Ellie whispered, before placing kisses on the space behind your ear, "You talk all this game about letting her fuck you, but darling, I'm the best that you've had, face it."

Her hands travelled up your legs, before landing at the curve of your behind, you swallowed a gasp, feeling her tease you through your dress, not wanting her to know the power she had over you in this moment. You were embarrassed at your own silence, not knowing how to reply to her words.

"Abby could do a better job," As soon as you said it, you regretted it. Ellie was certainly not impressed, hands clutching at your dress as she slowly lifted up the fabric, exposing your legs to her. "Oh yeah?" her gaze flickered down to your lips, "You want me to call her up here and show her how much you can't stand me?"

You stayed silent, her words spurring you on more that you expected, "Cos I can do that."

The distance between your lips had closed, Ellie pressing softly against yours as the music thumped in the background. Her hand travelled up from your thighs, caressing your sides as she reached the back of your head. You couldn't hold yourself back any longer, deciding to press into the kiss and wrap your arms around Ellie's neck. You could feel her smirking into the kiss as her fingers tightened around your hair, evoking a sigh out from your lips.

"You always did like when I did that," Ellie basked in the memories of your past relations, something she regretted losing. You two just always seemed to understand each other at that level, your bodies working together, she knew exactly what you liked and you knew exactly what she liked. It just worked.

It was no different this time around, just with a little added bitterness. All the tension from the arguing, the snide remarks and jealousy over the past few months seemed to have been leading to this exact moment. A cathartic release of pressure that had been building up.

"Shut up, Williams."

She chuckled as her lips went down your neck, kissing down to your collarbone as she sucked, intentionally leaving a lovely purple symbol marked on your skin. A symbol that you were hers, and she was going to let everyone else see it. Let Abby try and flirt with you now. Your chest heaved up and down, anticipating the gentle touch of her hand lifting your skirt, exposing your legs more than they already were. You felt a tightness at your core, even amidst your anger towards her, you still reacted in this way.

"You're so soft, for a girl so frigid." she muttered into your neck, kneading the skin of your thighs, her hand was so close to where you wanted her. "You're an asshole," You breathed out, back arching into the door, pressing you closer into it as Ellie moved her body closer to yours. "Oh yeah?" she paused, "Is that why you're letting me touch you like this?" Her hand trailed closer to your centre, fingers skimming over your underwear, her raspy voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Because I'm such an asshole?" Her words dripped like honey, and suddenly you were melting. "Fuck," you sighed, your head falling down to her shoulders for support, suddenly feeling out of breath as her fingers teased around your most sensitive spot. "What was that, pretty girl?" her finger clutched on to the cotton fabric and slid underneath it, sliding the cloth to the side as she teased her finger through your dampened folds.

"Fuck, Ellie.." you gasped, your hips jutting towards her hand, a futile attempt to relieve some of the tension between your legs as Ellie retracted her finger from you. "No, no, pretty girl, that isn't how this works," You groaned, hearing distant chatter in the corridor outside of the bathroom as you were suddenly reminded of the outside world. "Ellie, please," you whispered, conscious that you would be heard by the partygoers. "Please, what?" She hummed, enjoying dragging this out, it was all a power play to her. You knew that, but you thrived off it just as much as Ellie did.

"Please," you rocked your hips into her hand again, "Need you to fuck me, Els." Upon hearing you, she restarted her movements, skimming your folds with her fingers once again, your mouth was agape, letting out tiny whimpers at the feeling of her fingers against your clit. "That's a good girl," she smirked as she watched you, her scarred eyebrow flicking upwards, her eyes full of mirth. Your hand reached towards the back of her head, grabbing on to the elastic that held her bun in place as you pulled, tugging her head backwards slightly as some strands of her auburn hair fell out of place, looking almost as disheveled as you felt.

Spurred on by your actions, Ellie had decided to insert two of her fingers into you, emitting a wanton gasp to fall from your open lips. You clenched around the intrusion, feeling as her fingers sloppily dipped in and out of your soaked core, filthy sounds bouncing around the room. You bit back moans as Ellie buried her slender fingers deep into your folds, groaning at the indecent sounds of your slick against her digits.

"Fuck," you accidentally moaned, and a lot louder than either of you had expected, causing Ellie to let go of her grip of her fingers on the back of your head and into your open mouth. Taking the hint, you sucked on her fingers, drool slipping out from between your lips as she fucked your mouth. Suppressing your moans, your eyes rolled shut as Ellie slid another finger into your centre, relishing at the sight of you. Fingers stuffed in your mouth with one hand, fingers glistening with your slick as she rocked in and out of you with the other. Your flawless eyeliner now smudged and smeared all over your eyes, with a single stream cleared from a tear that had fallen from your eyes at the pleasure you were feeling. You were a sight she wanted to keep in her memory for the rest of her life.

"You're so fucking hot, babygirl, but you gotta stay quiet for me," The pads of her fingers met with the walls of your core, hitting you at a deeper angle than before. How the fuck were you meant to stay quiet like this? Was she doing this on purpose?

"Unless you want everyone here to know how good I'm fucking you," Her words were inching you closer, when you suddenly felt her fingers retract from your mouth and her body dipping down, kneeling in front of you. Her antsy hands fumbled over the fabric that was still tight against your hips, ripping them down so she could have complete access to you.

"You look so good when you're being fucked, pretty girl." You felt her head reach closer towards your centre, you breathed in a sigh as her hand grabbed hold of your leg and placed it over her shoulder. Her tongue licked gentle stripes up your folds, as she continued her movements with her hands, fucking into you as she licked your cunt like she was starved.

"You taste so good, baby," she breathed out, "Ellie- fuck.." you moaned, not trusting yourself to keep quiet as you covered your face and mouth with your arms. Ellie looked up at you, watching your face contort with the pleasure she was giving you, holding your arms against your face to keep yourself quiet. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, Ellie seemingly knowing exactly what to say to bring you closer and closer.

"Wanna tell me again how you're going to go fuck Abby?" she paused, fingers still in a consistent, deep motion inside you, "Because it seems like you've changed your mind, angel." You were never going to go and actually fuck this girl, you had just said that to rile her up, Ellie knew this, yet she couldn't hold her tongue from saying these things to you.

"Ellie, shit," you gasped, "I don't want anyone else," Your hand moved down to her disheveled hair, forcing her head closer to you as you rocked your hips into her face, pure desperation. "I'm the only one who can make you feel like this, don't forget that," And she was right. Within seconds of her reconnecting her tongue to your centre, fingers still pushing into you, you felt all control of your body leave you. Shaking and writhing on her face as she brought you closer to your peak, your juices sliding down Ellie's chin.

Moaning and gasping, you dragged her face up to yours, capturing her lips in an ardent kiss as you could taste yourself on her lips. You felt her fingers slowly slide out you and let out a final moan. Your hands started to trail down Ellie's sides, grasping at her clothes in an attempt to take them off her.

"No, no, baby. None of that, I'm going to leave you right here," she chuckled, feeling your desperation, "You know where I'll be, when you're tired of flirting with strangers, give me a call."

And she left you, in your fucked out haze, all delirious and dazed, in the bathroom of Dina's party.

——

#i wrote this whilst i was high so if there's any mistakes I apologise #tiny lil nugget for u guys i had to get it out of my system #i need her so bad (she's not real)#college ellie just does something to me #shes so gf #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader smut #tlou smut #the last of us smut

2K notes · View notes

adamstnheights · 1 year

Text

I just want you to like me - Jake “Hangman” Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: You’re a bartender at the Hard Deck while completing grad school, which is how you met Jake Seresin. You and Jake began a “friends with benefits” type deal, using Jake’s aviation obligations and your education as reasoning why things couldn’t get too serious. Over the months, you have started to harbor deeper feelings towards him, afraid to speak up about it and potentially ruin everything you have with him. But when Jake returns from a two-month mission, your feelings for him reach a turning point in a moment of self-consciousness.

A/N: I’ve been slowly working on this fic for months ever since I got into Top Gun and TGM! I kept adding things and trying to edit and I finally felt ready to post! <3

Content: Friends with Benefits to Lovers, Self-Esteem Issues, Past of Bad Relationships, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Confessions, Jake doesn’t know how to deal with feelings, Consent, Smut, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Riding, Flirting, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fear of Dying, Fear of Rejection, Reassurance, Bestie Phoenix and Bestie Penny, Wearing Jake’s Helmet, Military Inaccuracies

18+ content, MINORS DNI!!!!

Word Count: 14.6k

“Oh, shit, you’ve got to be kidding me,” you cover your face with your hands and duck behind the bar. Penny looks down at you as you cower next to a stack of haphazard boxes, laughing. She looks out over the crowd of people, her eyes catching the group of aviators who just arrived at the Hard Deck.

“Oh, come on, get your ass back up here!” Penny laughs, yanking at your shirt sleeve. “Are you seriously hiding from Hangman?” She sings his call sign in a teasing, singsong-y tone which makes you blush.

“I’m not hiding, I’m just… strategically placing myself so that he doesn’t see me!” You whisper urgently.

“You’re ridiculous! I’m not paying you to hide down there and repress your deep feelings for a Navy pilot,” she says and you sigh, leaning against your thighs to stand back up. You try to act naturally, like you were just picking something up off of the ground.

“I don’t have deep feelings for him,” you mutter in denial as Penny shakes her head, smirking.

You met Hangman six months ago when he first arrived at the Top Gun base for training. He’d caught your eye the very first time he stepped foot into the bar with the rest of the pilots, but you had tried to keep your distance. When you began grad school two years ago, you’d graciously taken a job at the Hard Deck and Penny quickly took you under her wing. After all this time working at the bar, you knew that these pilots came and went and certain types—Hangman’s type—were probably not the kind of pilot you would want to get involved with. But of course, Hangman must have sensed your trying not to get involved and did everything in his power to get involved.

Every time the Top Gun pilots would pile into the Hard Deck for a night of drinking, Hangman was instantly leaning against the bar and calling for you. Normally, you get annoyed to no end at patrons calling at you, as if you were merely their servant to get them drinks. But the way he called your name was sweet, and sometimes he even added a darlin’ afterwards, only making you blush more. He never just called you over to demand drinks; he would wait until you walked over to him and he would lean forward—eyes twinkling, cocky smile—and say your name again so you could say back: Hangman. And from there, a night of across-the-bar looks and some cocky, not-so-subtle flirting would ensue.

It didn’t take long for Penny to notice your flirting and the rest of Hangman’s squadmates did the same. Over time, you became close friends with some of the other pilots, especially Phoenix. She instantly picked up on the way that you looked at Hangman, and soon, it felt as if everyone in the bar were urging the two of you to get together. Despite the cheering from Hangman’s friends when one night you finally allowed him to take you out after your shift ended, he made sure to take your hand when you were out of everyone else’s earshot: I don’t mean to force you to do this. Things with the crew kinda got out of hand and I’m sorry if you felt pressured by me asking you in front of everyone else— But you had cut him off by cupping his jaw, leaning up, and kissing him sweetly on the cheek. For once, you had made Hangman go silent in awe.

The two of you had fun. It was pretty much a friends with benefits deal; you knew before it even started that Hangman wasn’t the type to settle down or even commit, for that matter. But it was still more than any other fuck buddy situation you’ve ever been in. You’d spend hours in bed together, talking, laughing, and watching movies. Some nights your phone would ring and it would be Hangman telling you Let’s do something. And then the two of you would be driving down to the beach at sunset and walking along the shoreline and laughing and running back to your place and falling into bed.

You never could tell where exactly the two of you stood. Friends with benefits? More? The month before the two of you got together, you’d always see Hangman whisk some other woman away at the end of the night. His whole being was the definition of man-whore, and he couldn’t help but flirt around at the bar, especially when he was drunk and singing with the rest of his friends. Since you started spending a lot of time with him, you couldn’t recall any time he would go out of his way to flirt with anyone else or take anyone else home. But even so, you never really knew what to think.

And then he was called away. Well, not just him, of course. Some kind of a mission was in motion and Lieutenant Jake Seresin was called to be on the team. They would be gone for two months and you doubted that he would be able to stay in contact very much. Before he left, he didn’t bring up anything about what the “plan” was for the two of you and his silence about it only made you more scared to bring it up yourself. You’d gotten him all to yourself the night before he left and you didn’t want to ruin it by bringing up the worst question of all time: What are we?

He sent you the occasional text while he was away. You knew he was busy; obviously he had much more important things to focus on than you. But still, you couldn’t push down the pang in your heart when you laid in bed alone at night, wondering if there was any chance Jake was thinking about you. Two months felt like an eternity and you didn’t know if he would even want to talk to you when he returned.

So when Penny heard through the grapevine that the boys should be home in a few days, you completely shut down in self defense. You pushed down any rising hope you had that Hangman would walk through the doors and run towards you with his arms open wide. The plan would be to act as normal and casual as possible and not make it known that you were totally, utterly falling for Jake Seresin.

However, knowing that he’s right here in the room with you now, your hands begin to sweat and all of the confidence you had to not let Hangman distract you goes out the window immediately. You look at Penny and sigh as the booming voices of the newly returned pilots become louder. It was silly of you to have assumed the pilots would not be piling into the bar the second they got back to base. Rooster and Phoenix make a beeline to the piano and soon enough, the bar is filled with singing. You watch Hangman join in out of the corner of your eye, trying to busy yourself by rearranging the glasses behind the bar. Rooster plays a song and you watch as Hangman belts out the words, throwing his head back and slinging his arm around Coyote as everyone sings.

When the song is over, Hangman scans the room over but stops completely when he sees you. It feels as though the wind has been knocked out of him, seeing you after two months of being away. His heart swells as he makes his way over to you, clearing his throat and running his hand through his hair quickly.

You can tell Jake is moving towards you and you tense up, thoughts all jumbled, and now you have no idea what you’re supposed to say to him anymore. He leans against the bar, as always, and you look up at him slowly, casually, but the moment you meet his eyes you feel as though your heart is exploding. You curse Hangman and his stupid, stupid effect on you. Maybe you don’t notice, but Jake’s breath catches in his throat when he looks at you, but he pulls himself together quickly and leans even closer, his signature smirk spreading across his face. He says your name, like always.

“Hangman.” You reply, focusing way too hard on your voice not cracking.

Jake looks at you, his expression softening as the sight of you makes his heart soar. He suddenly feels a rare surge of insecurity; usually you’ll beam at him and play into his shameless flirting but instead you look shy, pulled back. Was something wrong? Before he met you, he could easily charm a woman into bed by the end of the night and if she happened to reject him, he was never bothered by it. He would shake it off and try again the next night. But with you, he could actually lose you. This terrifies him. He doesn’t want to fuck this up, and the slight change in your demeanor since the last time he saw you is beginning to freak him out. He tries to tread lightly.

“I missed seeing your pretty face, sweetheart,” he drops his voice low and looks deep into your eyes.

Your heart leaps but you try to play it cool. You raise your eyebrow and smirk, “Oh, did you now?” You can easily keep up with a night of flirting. It’s when the conversation lulls and you catch yourself staring and imagining your whole future with Jake that it becomes scary. The way Jake is leaned forward on the bar, he has to tip his head slightly upwards to look at you. He looks pretty gazing up at you through his eyelashes. He not-so-subtly lets his eyes dart down to your lips and you curse yourself as your cheeks grow red.

“Do you close tonight?” He asks.

“I do.” You want to throw yourself into Jake’s arms but you need to hold him at a distance. For now, at least. You’re not used to having him back in your life again. For the past 6 weeks with only the occasional good morning or good night text, your heart slowly broke as you had to adapt to the absence of him. You know it isn’t his fault, but you can’t help but feel guarded from simply opening your arms right back up again.

“Can I… Could I see you? After you close?” He looks down for a brief second, licking his lips nervously. You bite your bottom lip. Jake has always been sweet and respectful about asking. He would make demands jokingly and flirtingly, but you knew that he would not want to make you do anything you didn’t want to do. You can see that Jake really wants to see you, but he’s still asking. If you say no, you know he will respect it.

“Y-Yeah. If you hang back after, I’ll finish up closing and we can…” you trail off, not sure what you want to say exactly. You want to kiss him again, to feel the rush of tingles that his touch sends through your body, but you’re scared. “...We can take a walk on the beach.”

Jake breaks into a relieved smile, reaching his hand out to rest on top of yours. His touch is warm and you know how easily you can get drunk from it. “I’d like that,” Jake says. There’s a sparkle in his eye that you aren’t immune to so before you can stop yourself, you’re slowly reaching forward and pushing back a strand of hair that fell over his face. You take your time and your fingers linger in his hair. Quickly though, you pull yourself away and begin to make Jake’s regular drink, giving yourself a chance to catch your breath.

When you hand Jake his drink, he thanks you and goes to say something else, probably something cocky to ease the tension. But to your relief, Payback and Coyote call for him to go over and take shots with them. Jake gets up and goes to leave, but not before flashing you a sickeningly charming smile. You laugh and shake your head as he runs to the other side of the bar, his drink sloshing around in his hand.

The rest of the night treks on as usual. You and Penny watch as the pilots gradually become louder and wilder, celebrating that they all returned safely. Penny knows that every time you look over at the group, your eyes are only on Jake. As midnight approaches, most of the other patrons have left and the wildness that had encompassed the bar a mere hour ago has settled down. Most of the pilots, including Hangman, are playing probably their third rotation of pool. You try to ignore the way you grow hot watching Jake lean forward against the table, pool stick in hand, a look of utmost focus on his face.

“So what exactly is your deal?” Penny leans her elbows on the bar in front of you, blocking your line of sight to Jake and jolting you out of a fantasy.

“I— what?” You laugh out of embarrassment even though you already know Penny knows exactly what is up with you. “With me?”

“Yeah. You and Hangman. You’ve been staring at him all night, why not go over and say something? Anything? You haven’t seen him in two months!”

“Well— I’m working right now! For you! And I’m closing tonight. But for your information, I told him I would see him after I’m done closing, so don’t worry your pretty little head,” you smile, genuinely touched that Penny is this invested in your and Hangman’s story.

“Look, I know I was wary about him at the very beginning, but I can tell… He really likes you. I just know it,” Penny tells you, “I don’t know if he knows what the fuck he’s doing, but I’ve never seen him act as head over heels as he does with you.”

“I’m just scared,” you admit, “I don’t want to assume anything and get hurt, you know? What we have now, it’s nice and I’m content. I just don’t know what exactly he’s thinking about me. I don’t want to bring it up and… have it ruin everything.”

“Okay, so he hasn’t come right out and said it yet, but I think you’d be a damn fool to not notice the way he looks at you,” she smiles.

Of course you notice the way he looks at you, the way he bounds over to you when he notices you’re in the room, the way he so naturally puts his arm around you and holds you close. Still, your brain can’t help but convince you that he’s only giving you all of his attention out of convenience. After past relationships of always giving more than what you received, you can’t bring yourself to be vulnerable first. You don’t want to be hurt again. You know it’s your own insecurities, but you can’t allow yourself to give someone your all just to be let down and rejected; it’s humiliating.

Anxiety continues to rise in your chest. “I dunno…” you manage to say, “I guess we’ll see what happens later tonight.”

Penny shoots you a daring smile, despite you not meaning it in a suggestive way. She pats you on the back, “That’s what I’m talking about!” She continues cleaning behind the bar, getting ready to leave for the night. You’d be left to manage the bar for the last hour and a half before closing.

You live only a few blocks away from the bar in a cute, craftsman style house, so even at work, you’re never too far away from home. Everything in town is pretty close to each other. Most of the military-provided housing is only 5-10 more minutes away from you—a pleasant convenience you found out when you first started seeing Jake. If the two of you were spending time together late into the night at your place, he could easily gather up all of his stuff and get back to his place in a matter of minutes.

Spending the night at the other’s place, however, was actually a very rare occurrence; you always chalked it up to having classes the next day and Jake always chalked it up to having to be on base early the next morning. It never really bothered you, it just seemed like an unspoken boundary that the two of you established for whatever this is. There are only sometimes where you’re watching him get dressed in your room at midnight and you wish you had the guts to ask him Will you stay tonight?

Now, you’re wondering if you’re ready to have him come back to your place again. He’s in his usual tan uniform that flatters him to no end, but it’s when he’s all tangled up in your blankets with one of his crewneck sweaters that he keeps at your place on and his hair slightly messed up and falling over his eyes—that’s when you really feel yourself falling, hard.

Penny leaves and slowly the pilots begin to leave as well. Phoenix comes over and gives you a hug goodbye, promising that the two of you will catch up over lunch soon. She clicks her tongue and nods her head over to where Hangman is, talking with Rooster. You roll your eyes and she rolls her eyes back at you as if to say You’re so in love. You start to clean up, sweeping the floor behind the bar and gathering up the trash. You see Hangman and Rooster leave, making the bar empty except for yourself. You know Hangman will come back soon and your heart races thinking about him returning just for you. You wipe down all of the tables, restack all of the cups, and once everything inside is done, you lock up and go to take the trash bags out by the back.

The deck wraps around three-fourths of the bar and you exit to the side where the dumpsters are. The air is cool and comfortable. When you’re done with the trash, you linger a few moments leaning up against the deck railing, looking out along the beach. Your mind is going a mile a minute, excited about getting some alone time with Jake but also extremely nervous.

You feel like you can’t control yourself when you’re around him. Deep down, you know you’ll want to jump him the moment you see him, but after being away from him for so long your stomach twists at the thought of being that vulnerable again. Jake has never made you feel dirty or used, but memories of past partners and flings are stuck so deeply in your mind that you can’t help but feel insecure in sexual situations. The amount of times people have left you after getting you into bed, the fake caring about anything other than sex, the lack of respect under the guise of well we’re not even serious… it still haunts you. You don’t think this is the same, but how can you really know? There’s always a possibility of rejection, of them getting bored of you, not wanting to stay anymore. You’re not scared of getting naked and having sex with someone, you’re scared of the after—the room full of silence as you lay there and you’re cold and the kindness is gone and you feel used.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you answer it. “Hey, you.” You can’t help but smile, spinning around and looking for Jake.

“Didn’t want to startle you,” he says on the other line. You can see through the windows of the bar that he’s on the other side of the deck area. When your eyes meet, you can see that he’s grinning ear to ear.

“Get over here, cowboy,” you smile, making a come here motion with your finger that makes Jake go crazy.

“Is that an order?” He asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yes, it is, Lieutenant.” You hang up and start to walk around the deck, a little skip in your step as you hear Jake running and then he rounds the corner and sees you and he calls your name. He runs, his arms reach out to you and you jump into them, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lifts you up. You squeal as your feet are lifted off of the ground and you bury your head into his shoulder until he puts you back down. He looks at you with his sparkly green eyes and a grin.

You hold your hand out to him. “Shall we?”

He takes your hand and you walk down the steps of the deck and onto the beach. Neither of you say much, but you feel as Jake gives your hand small squeezes as you walk, and you rub your thumb over the back of his. Jake keeps glancing over at you and you catch him glancing and you both turn your heads away, smiling.

“Why so shy, darlin’?” Jake asks, swinging your arms as you walk. “Am I too handsome to look at for more than a few seconds?”

“Oh please, I’m embarrassed for you that you’d even suggest that,” you nudge Jake with your shoulder.

“You’re head over heels for me, you just don’t want to give me the satisfaction,” Jake teases, but his face falls slightly when you don’t nudge or pinch him back. You just keep looking forward and walking. You are head over heels for him, but you just don’t know how to go about saying it. If you say it, then you’re putting yourself in the position to be left, and that’s too scary.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, Jake is having the same inner conflict. While on the mission, Phoenix had made a handful of pointed comments to him about how he needs to get off his ass and do something about his feelings for you. Jake had been too stunned to even ask how she knew about his feelings for you. If he had asked, she would’ve laughed in his face—it was so obvious. She had told him, You have her, Hangman. Don’t mess this up. Of course he doesn’t want to fuck things up with you—that terrifies him. He gets overwhelmed every time he sees you or even thinks about you. He’s never felt this way about anyone before. What on earth are you supposed to do with all of these feelings?

Both of you take your shoes off and dig your feet into the damp sand, facing out towards the dark, crashing waves. Then, you’re sitting down next to each other, looking up at the sky of stars. Your one hand is resting on your knees while the other is flat on the sand behind you, propping yourself up. You can feel Jake’s hand resting right next to yours and your fingers twitch as you lift one and touch it to his. Lifting your hand slowly, you rest it fully on top of his and he smiles at you. Before you can second guess yourself, you’re leaning your whole body into him and he wraps his arm around you as you rest your head on his shoulder. You close your eyes and listen to the sound of the waves.

You’re snapped out of your dream because you swear you hear Jake sniffle. Not wanting to alarm him, you slowly reposition your head on his shoulder and ask softly, “Are you okay?”

“I…” Jake falters. People in Jake’s life hardly check in with him or ask him what’s wrong. He doesn’t know how to respond. He especially doesn’t know how to respond to you. When you’re in front of him, he feels as though his breath is swept away and he’s left with a loss for words. “I don’t know. Can’t really… explain it.” He squints and tries to focus on the waves so he doesn’t start crying. He’s normally so sure of what to say, but not when he’s still so shaken up from the mission and doesn’t know how to tell you how he really feels.

“That’s okay, you’re okay,” you say, wrapping your arm around his waist and leaning into him more, “I’m here for you. You can tell me anything, even if you think you’re not making sense.”

“I’ve been pretty overwhelmed. The mission was really rough. I definitely got… a couple of reality checks. I did some stupid things under pressure. It wasn’t what I had expected at all.” He turns to look at you and his eyes are wide and he’s never been this vulnerable with you before. He swallows hard.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, “That must have been really hard.”

Jake nods. “Yeah…” he turns to look at you, a slight smile on his face, “I bet you think I’d never admit this, but it was tough. And I honestly…” was afraid of dying, “...nevermind.” He pushes his fears that almost reached the surface back down.

You can sense the sincerity, the vulnerability, in his voice. You sit up and face him, your noses close to touching. You gingerly touch and hold his cheek and lean in, your noses brushing, and you kiss him. It’s soft and comforting and Jake wraps his arm around your back to support you as you lean further into him. He smiles into the kiss and cups your jaw and he leans back slowly into the damp sand as you fall on top of him. His lips break apart from yours and you’re staring down at him, a pink blush across his cheeks, and he smiles up at you with his perfect, toothy grin.

Maybe you can’t tell, but he’s out of breath from the effect you have on him. You’re gentle with him. No one’s ever gentle with Hangman. That’s why he acts so cocky; he’s used to constantly being challenged and having to defend himself with a sharp edge—at the expense of coming across as a brazen douchebag who’s too hard to get along with. But you care about him and you don’t see him how everyone else sees him. You’re sweet and gentle and kind and plant kisses all along his cheeks and neck when the two of you are laying in bed. Your kisses can be hard and rough when you want them to be but usually they’re soft and sweet and Jake likes that. You’re the only one who’s ever put up with him for this long or listens to his stories and sometimes he feels guilty because of it. He feels that you deserve better. He thinks that trying to use his words to tell you how he feels about you will only ruin everything, because he’s learned over time that more often than not, when he opens his mouth, that’s when things go downhill. One day, maybe you will realize that Jake is not enough for you. He doesn’t know how he would deal with that.

It’s hard to catch Hangman in a state of deep thought, but it’s easy to tell when it’s happening. You watch as Jake looks up at the stars, his eyes darting around the sky and his eyebrows slightly furrowed. You wonder what he’s thinking about. You have no idea what went down on that mission, but you can tell it took a toll on him. You’re not sure if this is a good idea or not, but you pry. You run your fingers through his hair, and he lets you of course, and you say, “Jake, you can talk to me. About what happened on the mission.”

He shakes his head too quickly, like he didn’t even give himself a chance to consider that he can actually open up and talk to someone if he just let himself. “Nah,” he tries to say nonchalantly, “I mean, it doesn’t really matter.”

You frown. Maybe everyone else could allow Jake to brush away his problems, but you can’t. You move off of Jake and kneel in the sand next to him. Slightly confused, Jake props himself up in the sand on his arms, and you cup both sides of Jake’s face, gently but with purpose.

“Jake. It does matter. You matter to me. I care about you and I can tell that something’s off and I want to be… someone you can talk to,” you say firmly.

Jake feels like his head is spinning. He thinks, Are you real? He wants to hold you and spin you around and kiss you and know for certain that he will never have to spend a day without you again. He’s never felt so safe before. He turns his head slightly away from you, not knowing if he’ll be able to look you in the eyes and say this. He takes a deep breath and it feels like he’s about to leap from a cliff.

“I’m afraid of dying,” Jake finally whispers. He expects you to laugh or make some snarky comment—everyone else does it. But you don’t say anything. He can feel your eyes on him, but he doesn’t feel scrutinized or judged, he just feels seen, for the first time in a while. So, slowly, warily, he continues. “I know I always act like nothing bothers me and that I fly too perfectly to ever get killed in action but… I really could die out there. And I almost did and it was terrifying,” his voice cracks and you reach your hand out to take his and when he looks at you, he almost breaks down. “I was scared that that would be it. That I wouldn’t make it back.”

“It’s okay to be scared,” you say, “You’re amazing, Jake, I honestly have no idea how you do what you do every day. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be scared. You have a whole team of pilots who care about you, and I’m here for you, and I… I’m so glad you’re here. I’m lucky to be able to spend time with you.”

Jake blinks back a tear, turning fully towards you. You pause in case he wants to say something more. You want him to be able to tell you anything. His eyes are glistening and he’s smiling at you, pure adoration spread across his face. Maybe another day he’ll find the words to describe all of his deepest fears and insecurities, but for now he just squeezes your hand in appreciation and admires how the moonlight illuminates you. He doesn’t need to say it—you know he’s telling you Thank you. Thank you for being here for me.

“I missed you,” you say, giving him a little nudge.

“And I missed you, darlin’.”

Later, the two of you walk up to where the waves are crashing and get your feet wet. Of course, Jake tries to kick the cold water up into your face and you run away from him laughing. He chases after you, yelling your name. Running out of breath, you stop in your tracks and let him grab your hips and spin you around and kiss you. You stretch your arms up to drape them over his shoulders as he leans down into you. A moan escapes your lips and Jake grins into the kiss, holding onto you tighter.

“Mmm… moan for me more, sweetheart,” Jake purrs half-jokingly, letting you pull away from him because you’re giggling too hard.

“Nice try, Hangman. How about you walk me home?” You start walking in front of him and hold your hand out behind you. He skips to get back in step with you and takes your hand, his lips tingling still with the feeling of yours on them. He smiles, so utterly amused by you, and you walk hand-in-hand down the beach towards your house. He wishes he could figure you out easier; he notices how you avoid saying his real name, despite how his heart flutters when you say Jake, and he wonders if you’re doing it on purpose just to get his eyebrow to quirk.

After walking off of the beach, your house is only two blocks away. You’re starting to feel sleepy, but the way Jake’s thumb is rubbing the back of your hand as you walk is making you want him. When you reach your front door, though, a wave of anxiety washes over you. You turn to face Jake and he’s looking at you with a dazzling smile. You know this is the part where you either invite him inside or ask him to text you when he’s gotten home safe. His hand is still intertwined with yours but he’s standing a few steps back. He doesn’t want to overstep or pressure you—you know he won’t step forward without your permission. You want more than anything to pull him into your place and kiss him hard but you suddenly feel nervous, as if you’d never done this before. You close your eyes for a moment and swallow.

“Well… will I see you soon, Lieutenant?” You ask, mad at yourself for not just going for it. Jake’s expression wavers for only a second. He would spend every second of every day with you if he could, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t also nervous. The more time he spends with you, the more likely he is to eventually fuck things up. He bows dramatically in front of you and places a kiss on the back of your palm.

“You can see me whenever you want to,” he says earnestly, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

You step forward and lean up, kissing him quickly and leaving him breathless. You let go of his hand and turn to open your door, looking over your shoulder, “Text me when you get home, Bagman!”

Jake laughs, shaking his head disapprovingly. You wiggle your fingers at him in a bye-bye motion. He walks backwards down your front pathway so he can keep looking at you. He waits for you to step into your place before turning around to start walking home himself. You close your front door and watch from the window as he turns the corner.

You get ready for bed and as you’re exiting the bathroom, your phone dings on your bedside table. It’s Jake texting you I’m home safe along with a slightly blurry selfie of him in the mirror brushing his teeth. His hair is falling forward into his face and you feel like you’re going to collapse at how attractive he looks. You write back Looking good, cowboy! and you don’t see it but Jake’s face lights up when he sees the heart you added at the end. He will lay in bed thinking about every possible way he could tell you that he adores you, if only he had the guts to do so. And you lay in bed, scrolling through your camera roll, looking at all of the silly, caught-off-guard pictures you’ve taken of Jake where he’s grinning like an idiot and his dimples are showing and Oh, God, you’re really fucking wrecked for him.

———

The next day goes by like any normal Friday. You wake up, grab breakfast, and hop in the car to drive over to campus. Paying attention in class only slightly helps you stop thinking about Jake; he always finds a way to sneak back into your thoughts anyways. During your last class of the day, you have an exam, and you stupidly feel sad that Jake hadn’t texted you that morning to wish you good luck. You obviously hadn’t gotten a chance to update Jake on your academics last night, but before, he would always know what you were up to. If he knew you had an exam to study for or a paper to write, he would be your own personal cheerleader. He’d bring you coffee if you needed to pull an all-nighter, and he’d do a horrible job at trying to incentivize you: “For every sentence you write I’ll give you a kiss!” “Jake, that’s gonna distract me even more! I’ll never be able to finish writing if you keep kissing me!” You try to ignore the fact that you miss him like crazy and how you’ve never felt so scared to like someone so much before. You grip your pen tighter and try to focus on the exam.

Then, he calls that evening. Jake knows you always have off from bartending on Fridays. In fact, when he first found out, he started ditching the rest of the crew at the Hard Deck to spend time with you. He’d show up at your place, a huge grin spread across his face as he eagerly waited for the door to swing open. And there you’d be, just as happy to see him. Neither of you called these Friday night dates “dates” even though that’s what they were.

When you answer the call, you’re just getting back into the house after hitting traffic on the way home. You balance your phone between your shoulder and your cheek as you fumble for your keys, “Seresin?” Something inside of you can’t allow yourself to say Jake. It’s almost too domestic, especially considering most of the people in his life call him by his callsign. Ninety percent of the time it’s Hangman; people rarely call him Seresin, let alone Jake. When you think of his name, your chest tightens at all of the sickly romantic feelings you feel for him, and how you’re too afraid to find out whether he feels the same way about you.

“Seresin?” He emphasizes, half-serious shock in his voice, “Aw, come on, darlin’, what’s going on with you? What happened to Jake? Or, if I’m not mistaken, it’s more like Jaaaake—” he heightens the pitch of his voice, softly mocking the way you tend to moan out his name in bed.

“Oh, shut up, Hangman,” you snort, “To what do I owe this pleasurable phone call? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. Do have a bit of a problem, though. I, uh, ordered way too much takeout and I can’t possibly eat it all by myself,” he says in a tone that tells you he absolutely bought too much takeout on purpose so he could have an excuse to call you, and you can’t help but break into a huge smile. “So… I thought maybe you could come around and we could—”

“Okay. Yes.” You say it before you could even try to stop yourself. Jake is too powerful for your own good. Live in the moment, or whatever, right? What could be so bad about doing what you and Jake have always done? You know he must care about you, enjoy spending time with you. It’s just the little voice in the back of your head that makes you scared, but you try to ignore it. You want to be with him. “I just got home from class. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be there.”

Jake’s house is only a few blocks away, and the sun is beginning to set as you skip down your porch steps onto the sidewalk. As you get closer, you feel your hands get sweaty and you force your brain to decide whether you should let your heart lead tonight. Yes, you want to protect yourself, but you want Jake more than anything. As you turn the corner and walk up to Jake’s door, anxiety begins to rise in your chest and you try desperately to calm it down as you knock.

The door swings open mere seconds after, and an energized-looking Jake is standing there beaming at you. He’s wearing a slightly worn coffee-colored t-shirt and black sweatpants. You try not to choke at the sight of his strong arms, the veins in his hands, the way his fluffy hair is begging to be pulled at. You clear your throat and smile shyly back at him, almost embarrassed. Why are you so damn nervous?

“Well, are you just gonna stand there?” Jake’s right eyebrow quirks upward. “Cat got your tongue? You undressin’ me with your eyes?” You open your mouth to retort but just look mock-angrily at him, disapproval all over your face.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just fuckin’ with you,” he smiles sweetly, holding back a laugh at how you can shoot him such a cold hard stare at a moments notice, “Well, kind of. But if you don’t get your pretty self in here now, I will shut this door.”

“Oh, you—” You giggle and grab his arm to push him back inside when he bends down and picks you up, completely sweeping you off your feet. His arms are wrapped around your thighs and you squeal as your balance gets yanked from under you for a split second, but you know you’re safe and steady in his arms. He’s laughing as he slams the door with his foot and runs inside with you basically flung over his shoulder. “Seresin, I swear!” You cry out between laughs.

He runs around the living room couch with you on his shoulder, kind of like the victory laps he’ll do when he wins a football or volleyball game down on the beach. Rounding the corner of the couch once more, he slips just slightly and holds you tighter as he leans forward so you fall onto the couch cushions, only slightly painfully. He’s tangled up in you, one arm still by your thigh and the other hand is right next to your head, steadying his fall. He looks down at you and you look up at him, breathless. His eyes look to your lips and he takes his time to look back into your eyes. He raises his eyebrows just slightly, and you know he’s asking for permission. You don’t think you have it in you to say anything, so you cup your hand tenderly along his jaw and he’s leaning forward until your noses are touching and you feel his hot breath as he wavers there for a moment. You close your eyes and close the gap, pressing your lips to his.

You had kissed him last night on your porch, but you hadn’t given him much time to react. This time, Jake’s hand slowly drags up your thigh and to your hip where he holds you. His mouth doesn’t leave yours as he re-balances himself in between your legs so he can take his other hand and hold your jaw right behind your ear. His fingertips are gently massaging your scalp as he deepens the kiss. You let out a soft moan and he smiles against you. He breaks away, but his face stays close to yours. You hold your breath, eyes darting around his face.

“I…” Jake begins, letting out a sigh, “...am so hungry. For you, of course, but also for the food I got.” He watches as your expression goes from confused to exasperated, and you playfully hit the side of his arm.

“You’re evil!” You laugh as Jake peppers your neck with kisses and goes to stand up.

“Hmm, I like keeping you on your toes,” he winks at you and clicks his tongue, walking to the other side of the room where the kitchen area is. You smirk, shaking your head disapprovingly and following him. As he described over the phone, he definitely did get way too much takeout, also conveniently from the place you and him always go to and find yourselves craving. Your heart flutters for a moment as you grab two of the containers and take it over to the square kitchen table.

Another nice thing is that you and Jake can have moments of silence that aren’t awkward. When the two of you are at the Hard Deck or on the beach around the rest of the Top Gun pilots, you definitely play up your snarky, flirty comments at each other. The rest of his crew’s attention only eggs Hangman and his ego on, so he’ll follow you around and do whatever it takes to get a reaction out of you. But when it’s just you and Jake, there are more small moments.

You’ll catch him looking at you and his eyes will only light up more, his adorable dimples becoming more visible as he smiles. When you take walks along the beach, your arms will brush against each other and both of you will lean closer and closer until your fingers slowly intertwine and you feel a burst of warmth spread from your fingertips to the rest of your body. Jake will stop by your house in his truck on a whim and you’ll go on drives where you playfully argue over what music gets played, but Jake secretly likes when you play your music because he likes hearing you sing along. He likes his hair being played with, but only when the two of you are alone because Jake Seresin would not be caught dead with his hair getting messed up in front of his colleagues. His fluffy, roughed up hair is only for you.

You sit cross-legged in one of the wooden chairs across the table from Jake and start eating. You look at Jake as he’s in the middle of chewing and he gives you a goofy, closed-mouth smile.

“Thank you,” you say, motioning to the food in front of you with your fork, “I’m happy that you didn’t forget our…” you stop for a moment, and Jake raises his eyebrows in a half silly, half intrigued way, “...our Friday date nights.” Your voice trails off at the end but Jake heard you quite clearly and he lights up inside.

“Of course I wouldn’t forget,” he says simply, “Fridays wouldn’t be the same without you.” You blush and smile, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with him.

You and Jake catch up. You fill him in about your studies and he admires you for your drive and accomplishments, saying that he’d never be able to do what you do. Laughing and shaking your head, you say that you could tell him the exact same thing, asking him about the mission. He can’t go into too much detail, but says that he’s glad everyone returned safely. You maintain eye contact and nod as he explains to you all the ins and outs that you don’t really understand, and yet you find yourself smiling as he bursts into his passionate way of describing things.

Later, you’re helping Jake clean up in the kitchen when he walks up behind you and snakes his arms around your waist. The ticklish feeling makes you giggle and place your hands over his arms that are hugging you. You expect him to say something, but he remains silent. He slowly nuzzles his nose into your shoulder and breathes in deeply. He squeezes you just a little bit tighter.

“...Jake?” You ask. He practically shudders at your use of his real name. “Are you okay?”

“Just missed you,” he mumbles into your shoulder, “...A lot.” He turns his head and presses slow kisses on your neck, making you shiver. Your legs almost buckle from the shock that his lips send to your core. You can’t help but let out a low moan which only makes him grip you tighter. He gives you a small bite on your neck and drags his teeth down to your collarbone, pulling the collar of your sweater to the side.

“Ohh…” you sigh, reaching behind you to grab onto Jake’s arm. He promptly grabs you and spins you around to face him, pushing you gently up against the counter. His hands rest low on your hips and his eyes search yours. It’s your move now. Jake doesn’t want to be overbearing, he doesn’t want to make a wrong move and mess things up, he doesn’t want to do anything to make you hate him. He sucks in a breath and waits for what you will do.

You will push your deep feelings for Jake away and insist that you will be just fine when you pull him by the collar and kiss him back. You drag him over to his bed and lay down and grab at his hair as he kneels down between your legs and makes you feel good. You lean back as his tongue laps at you and his arm extends out to grab your hand and intertwine your fingers together. He pushes his tongue against you harder and squeezes your hand harder, and you squeeze back, shutting your eyes tight. When he looks up at you from between your legs, he has a fire in his eyes, dripping with desire. He licks his lips which are covered in you. His strong hands grip both of your thighs and press them farther apart as he latches his mouth onto your clit. You cry out and dig your nails into his scalp, earning a deep moan from him. His mouth leaves you once more and he glances at you.

“I— Is this okay? Are you okay?” He whispers, out of breath, his thumb lazily circling over your clit as he waits for a response. You moan because it feels so good and his eyebrow quirks upward, amused from watching you squirm under him. “Darlin’?”

You groan and grind your hips up against his thumb. “Can you… can you use your fingers?” You choke out, “Please?”

Jake smirks and you want to smack him for acting so cocky but before you can even try, he’s leaning up over you and holding his middle and ring fingers out towards you. You instinctively open your mouth, just slightly, and he slips his fingers in. You suck on them, not breaking eye contact as he looks down at you intensely. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth slowly and rubs a few wet circles over your clit, which you barely have time to react to before he slides his fingers down into your cunt and you arch your back and cry out, “Oh—fuck!”

“Hmm? You like my fingers?” Jake smiles as he pumps in and out of you, curling his fingers with every thrust.

“Mmhm,” you whimper, biting down on your lip. With all you can muster, you shoot him an angry look and pant out, “Oh Jake, fuck, please please use your mouth at the same time…”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jake takes no time settling back in between your legs, lapping and sucking at your clit while his two fingers are curling inside of you. You’re moaning and grabbing at his free hand, he’s moaning into your cunt and the vibrations feel so good. Damn Hangman for knowing what he’s doing and doing it so perfectly.

“Fuck, fuck, keep going, oh my God,” you moan, managing to prop yourself up to watch Jake eat you out.

“Wouldn’t dream of stoppin’,” he mumbles into your skin.

He laps at you hungrily and you throw your head back. He doesn’t let up for a single moment, knowing your body so well. He keeps going and keeps going and he feels you starting to clench around his fingers and he keeps going. You can almost feel his cocky grin as he grinds his mouth into you. You can’t see it but his cock is hard and as badly as he wants to slip a hand beneath the waistband of his sweatpants and jerk himself off, he won’t because he’d rather be holding your hand as he makes you come undone on his mouth.

“Jake…” you strain, “I’m close.” Your hands are in his hair, pulling at it fiercely and digging your nails in, making him groan.

“Oh, fuck, please come on my mouth,” he moans. He holds you as you buck your hips into him and your legs writhe.

And suddenly, you’re coming and it sends sparks through your body and your hand shoots out to grasp onto Jake’s arm tightly and you choke out, “Jake—!” You whimper as he works you through it, fingers still pumping into you, slower now, and his mouth is soaked and he has the biggest, most content smile on his face. He places wet kisses on your inner thighs as you continue to shake.

As you catch your breath, Jake crawls up the bed to press kisses to your neck and you tug at the bottom of his t-shirt. He smiles and pulls the shirt over his head quickly, his lips back on your neck in an instant. You wrap your arms around him and he lifts his head up, looking at you.

“Do you want me?” He whispers. His hair is out of place, disheveled, some strands stuck with sweat on his forehead. He’s so criminally hot. You’re used to coming up with something snarky to compete with his own lines, but the way he’s looking at you so intently, you can only say, “Yes.”

That’s all he needs to hear and his lips are on yours, passionate. He holds your jaw and his other hand slides up your sweater and the two of you giggle softly as you lean up so he can pull it over your head. Your hands grab at the waistband of Jake’s sweatpants and he grins in between kisses as you palm him through his boxers. He groans and tries to remain his composure over you but his eyes flutter between being open and shut as he grinds his hips into your hand.

“Fuck, that feels so good, sweetheart,” he praises.

You dip your hand into his boxers and he shudders as you grip his cock. He rushes to pull down both his sweatpants and boxers, kicking them off quickly. You’re smiling at his eagerness and he catches your eye and laughs softly, leaning forward to kiss you again. You wrap your legs around him and shiver at the feeling of his hard cock resting against you. Your legs squeeze tighter around him. He spits into his hand and rubs his palm over the head of his cock, then slides it over your clit and down against your entrance.

Jake looks at you. He hesitates for a moment, which you only see as him teasing you like he frequently does, but he’s nervous. Something different about this time. Not that every other time didn’t make him go equally as crazy, fall equally as hard for you. He had been away from you for two months and now that he finally has you again he’s scared that maybe you don’t want him anymore, that you won’t always want to wait around for him. He freezes up and now you notice the way his eyes are wide.

“Jake…” You place a hand on his cheek.

“Sorry, sorry,” he shakes his head, “I—” he lets out a small laugh, “I’m kind of nervous, to be honest.”

“Nervous?” You smile, “You just made me come on your fingers. Hard. What… are you nervous about?”

Jake’s expression softens at your praise. “Whenever I’m around you I’m nervous,” he admits quietly, “You make me short circuit.” You’re surprised at the way he says it, no hint of humor or playfulness at all. You brush your thumb over his cheek comfortingly.

“You have no need to feel nervous,” you whisper. Then you swallow hard, adding, “You always have me.”

His eyes light up and he pushes you back onto the bed and his lips collide with yours. He pulls away and grips his cock, looking down as he pushes slowly into you. You gasp out at the feeling of the head inside and Jake wavers, watching your expression. It hurts a little bit, but you look up at him and nod fervently, urging him to keep going. He pushes in slowly and lets out a low moan. You shudder as you engulf him. He fits in you perfectly.

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he murmurs, rocking his body into you.

You hold him close as he fucks into you. With every moan and whimper that escapes your mouth, Jake’s cock twitches inside of you. He positions himself exactly where he knows he can hit the spot that makes you cry out in pleasure. Jake is panting, his breath hitching every time his cock disappears inside of you. You’re clawing at his back, pulling him close so you can kiss him again, and it’s erratic and hungry. You reach your hand up next to your head to grip onto the blanket but Jake grasps your hand with his instead.

“F-Fuck,” Jake groans.

“Jake—” you gasp as you can feel another orgasm slowly growing. “You—fuck—you feel so good, Jake.”

Jake’s body jerks forward at the sound of you moaning his name. His eyes flutter closed for a moment as he’s overtaken with the pleasure you’re giving him, groaning out a string of fucks and dropping his head into your shoulder. He keeps fucking you, just a bit slower. He feels like he could come at any moment. His thrusts stop and he kisses you. When he pulls away, your noses touch and you look up at him.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly.

“Y-Yeah,” Jake nods, swallowing hard and catching his breath, “Do you… fuck, can we switch positions, maybe?”

You smile, a twinkle in your eye that makes his heart swoon.

“Let me ride you,” you say.

“You can do whatever you want to me, darlin’,” Jake’s eyes are wide in adoration as he pulls out and watches as you get up and lightly push him backwards onto the bed.

You straddle him and he whimpers when you reach behind you to grab his cock. His hands are instantly glued to your hips and he greedily tries to buck his hips up into you.

“Fuck me,” he rasps. “Please.”

Any thoughts of teasing him go out the window and you sink down onto him, leaning your hands on his chest to steady yourself. You bounce on his cock, leaning forward so your foreheads are almost touching. His hands are wrapped around you and your hands are around his shoulders. You’re both sweaty and breathless, kissing each other feverishly in between moans. He holds onto you tighter and fucks up into you at a relentless pace, and you choke out his name in between moans.

“Don’t stop—oh my God,” you plead, bringing your hand down to rub fast circles over your clit.

Jake grunts in response, his whole body glistening in sweat, his brain becoming complete mush as he watches you move on top of him. Everything about you makes his heart flutter and his cock twitch. He can feel himself getting close so he stops bucking into you to let you grind your hips into him while you touch yourself. He watches you intently, lust practically dripping from his expression as you throw your head back, grinding into him at a desperate pace, your hands pressed against his chest. Jake could fall in love with you. Maybe he already is.

“I’m close,” you whine, “OhmygodI’mclose…” You bounce on him again and he bucks his hips to slam up into you at just the right timing.

“M’close too,” Jake murmurs, “Come on my cock, sweetheart, I’ll come with you.” You feel his hand on yours and he’s helping you rub your clit and oh fuck you’re going to come. You tense up your legs and whimper, your body jerking forward and your head buries into Jake’s shoulder as you come hard.

“Jake—!” Your legs are shaking and you’re whimpering fuckfuckfuck as Jake wraps his hands around your back and he ruts into you recklessly, coming inside of you as you’re spasming around him. He moans out your name and throws his head back and keeps thrusting up into you as he comes.

Slowly, your body relaxes and you lean forward and upward off of him, shuddering at the feeling of his cock leaving you. Jake is breathing heavily, his eyes half closed and his hands resting on your waist. You place your hand on the headboard behind Jake to gain balance and you shift over to lay down next to him. He grabs your hips and tries to pull you to fall on top of him, but you slide away next to him on the bed. Now you can feel yourself begin to panic.

You’re acutely aware of how you’re completely naked in Jake’s bed and you feel exposed and you’re not sure how to deal with all the feelings you have for him. As much as you want to believe Jake’s actions towards you are genuine, you can’t help but worry that he only sees you as someone he likes to fuck. You feel your whole body shivering in the bed and you feel uncomfortable and cold. Jake is breathing hard lying on his back, his arm still splayed out towards you, trying to get you to come back and cuddle. You’re antsy to get back home, to be alone and catch your breath. And you definitely don’t want to overstay your welcome, so you quickly roll over in bed and sit up, your back towards him, bending down to pick up your sweater.

“Wait, hey, what’s wrong?” Jake asks, propping himself up on his forearm. You make the mistake of turning around to face him, and you see a look in his eyes that you’ve only caught a handful of times before. It’s genuine, soft. Your heart aches just a little more for him.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you shrug and pull your sweater over your head. He reaches for your hand as you tug your shirt into place.

“Well… if nothing’s wrong, will you stay?” He’s staring at you with his wide, eager eyes. You’re stunned at his question, remaining frozen in place.

“Stay?” You try to ask him sternly, to challenge him, but instead it comes out as a self-conscious whisper. Jake tugs again at your hand, beginning to rub circles on the back with his thumb.

“Yes, stay.” He folds open the covers for you to climb back underneath with him. His eyes don’t leave you and he looks nervous that you might actually just get up and leave. His eyes dart around your face, trying to get a read on what you’re thinking.

“Do you… really want me to stay?” You ask, unable to meet his eyes. “You don’t just want to keep me here to go another round or something?” You curse at yourself for self-sabotaging and accusing him of something you know he would never do to you, but it just slipped out.

Jake lets out a laugh, moreso out of shock than humor. “What—? No, I really want you to stay here with me. I dunno, I was thinking we could maybe watch a movie later and…” His composure falters and he furrows his brows, hurt, “...Do you really think that I just want to use you? After all this time we’ve spent together?”

You frown, “No. I– I don’t know. I just… I’m scared that you just see me as a fuck buddy and one day you’re going to find someone prettier to take home because you could find so much better and then you’ll completely forget about me.” You swallow hard, not expecting to lay everything out on the line. Hot tears sting your eyes as Jake sits up and pulls you closer to him. You’re both sitting cross-legged, facing each other. You keep babbling in an attempt to stop yourself from crying, “I mean, we never really talked about what we were before you left and so I wasn’t sure if you would just want to be done and when you were gone I missed you so much and I realized how much you mean to me but I got scared that you wouldn’t… I– I just want you to like me.”

Jake lets out the breath he was holding in, trying to hold back the elated feeling he has knowing that your feelings are the same as his. “Do you not see how I look at you every time you’re around?” He asks quietly, brushing his thumb across your cheek and looking into your eyes. This time, you don’t look away and you let yourself get lost in his gaze. You see the softness in his smile. “You- I swear to you, you’re the only woman that’s been on my mind ever since we met. I know how I can be, I know the stories the other guys probably told you when we first met, but I promise I just want you.” You don’t say anything so he squeezes your hand with emphasis, “I like you. So much.”

Now the tears actually fall, but only because you’re so overcome with emotion. Jake had never said anything so vulnerable to you before and you hold his arm as he cups your face and kisses you, slow and gentle. When he pulls away, he brushes the tears from your cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Jake says, “I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything to you before I left. I… I’m not very good at expressing my feelings. I got scared that I’ll say something wrong if I try, and that I’ll just fuck everything up. I’m not used to this, to feeling so happy with someone. I’ve never cared about anyone as much as you. I guess I was just too scared to tell you, that maybe you would want someone better. But I never meant to make you feel like I didn’t want you.”

“Oh,” you say, looking down at your lap for a moment. When you look back at Jake, his eyes are shiny with tears, as are yours, but you’re both smiling. Jake’s dimples make your heart soar. “I guess we were both being kind of silly. I would never—” your voice cracks a bit, “I would never want someone else. I want you. I was just nervous that I… couldn’t call you mine.”

“I’m yours, I’ve been yours since the first night we met,” Jake smiles. He looks up at the ceiling, pondering for a second, “Well… maybe the second night.” A devilish smile spreads across his face.

“Wait, what?” You exclaim in mock hurt, grabbing his arm, “What do you mean? What did I do the first night?” You’re giggling as he pulls you into his arms.

“No, no, I—” he’s laughing, at how silly what he’s about to say is, and because he’s in total euphoria knowing that everything is good with you, “I… okay, look, I know I was really pestering you that night. I was drunk—”

“You were very drunk, Seresin,” you scold him playfully, resting your chin on his chest.

“Yeah, yeah, it was pretty bad,” he admits, “and you know me, I uh, probably came on pretty strongly…”

“That’s why I was trying my best to ignore you,” you giggle, pressing kisses on his chest. “Jake. You were so horny.”

He turns red, shaking his head and laughing, running his hands up and down your back. “I was so drunk and I think I took your rejection—which, by the way, I completely understand—really personally. Like when Coyote dragged me home I think I was crying because I was so upset. And he was like ‘Dude, you have got to stop acting like a slut in front of a woman you’re trying to impress.’ I was sure I’d have no chance with you again, so I almost just tried to give it all up.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t give it up.”

“The next night, the moment I saw you again, everything else just went out the door. You wouldn’t leave my mind. And when you smiled and laughed at my jokes, and actually enjoyed my dumb flirting, I was head over heels. It’s always been you, my dear.”

You lean up to kiss him. “You’ve always had me. Since the very first night.”

Jake beams.

———

“Hey, darlin’.”

You’re curled up on the couch in Jake’s living room under a huge fuzzy blanket; all of the lights are off except for the light coming from the television, turned down to volume 4. You look up and see Jake smiling at you, standing in the doorway to the bedroom. He walks over to the couch and gets under the blanket, sitting next to where you’re laying. You scoot down and snuggle against him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you whisper. It’s currently 5 am. “I know you had to get up in an hour or so to get on base so I was praying I wouldn’t wake you up before—”

You’re cut off by Jake shifting his body to face you, and he takes your hands in his. “No need to apologize,” he says, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you smile, “I woke up in a drunken sweat and I chugged a bunch of water and then I was too awake to fall back asleep so I just stayed in here.” Jake laughs softly and squeezes your hands.

It’s been a week since you told Jake about your feelings for him and he told you his. You both laughed at how silly you both had assumed the worst about how the other felt and promptly decided to become exclusive—what both of you have wanted since before Jake even left for the mission. Jake was elated, knowing that he could now walk around and call you his girlfriend, his partner.

Usually at the Hard Deck, you and Jake would purposefully play up the flirting, partially to get reactions out of the other aviators. You had always been too shy to do anything too tender, too gentle, in front of everyone else because you weren’t sure if that’s what the two of you were. But last night, when Jake and the rest of the Dagger Squad arrived at the Hard Deck during your shift, he didn’t hold back. When you walked over to his table to hand everyone their drinks, Jake had snaked his arm around your waist and kissed you sweetly, catching you off guard. When you both pulled away, everyone’s eyes were on you. Rooster had looked over at Coyote, whose eyebrows had shot up. Phoenix sat there with her mouth wide open, and Payback nudged at Bob and Fanboy to stop playing pool.

“Am I… missing something? A new development of sorts… perhaps?” Phoenix drawled teasingly. Bob was giggling, covering his mouth with his hand, and everyone else was staring, blinking, waiting to see what you or Hangman would say.

“What?” Jake had quipped, acting exasperated. “Can’t I kiss my girlfriend in public?”

Everyone’s expression then turned to excitement and they all started exclaiming at the same time, but you were smiling too widely at Jake to even hear any of them. He saw your happiness and winked, kissing you again. His girlfriend. You were on cloud nine.

Since putting a label on things, the two of you also finally started spending the night together. You’d switch up whose place it was at, but there was no longer an awkward feeling of having to gather up your things to “head back home.” Whether you were at your place or Jake’s, you were at home. It only mattered that you were in his company.

Last night, after stumbling back to Jake’s place (he wasn’t as drunk as you, although you remember him stumbling just as badly as you were up the steps to the house), you’d fallen asleep on top of Jake in a tangled, drunken mess. You woke up mere hours later, sweating all of the alcohol off and having a pounding headache. You’d drank some water and ate some leftovers from the fridge and suddenly felt full of energy, thus why you chose to stay on the couch in the main room instead of returning to bed.

“But you’re feeling alright now?” Jake asks you.

You nod and lean on his shoulder, laying your hand on his chest. “Yeah, I feel good now. I just feel really awake. I don’t think I’ll be able to get back to bed at this rate.”

Jake hums as his arm is wrapped around you and his thumb rubs over your shoulder comfortingly. The room is silent for a few moments and you’re focused on how Jake smells like amber and firewood. Then, you feel Jake shift his body to look at you, and you lift your head off of his shoulder to meet his eyes.

“What if we did something?” Jake asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Right now, let’s do somethin’!” He flings the blanket off of him and stands up, grabbing his keychain and watching amusedly as you cock your eyebrow at him. “I have an idea,” he says, holding his hand out to you. “Trust me?”

Of course you do. You take his hand.

You’re in the passenger seat of Jake’s truck and have no idea where you’re going. You roll the window down and let the cool, early morning air hit your face. You catch Jake glance over at you multiple times, every time you hit a stop sign without fail. You look back at him, each time, fighting the urge to lean forward and pull him in for a kiss like a giddy teenager.

Jake keeps driving and then he makes a turn that makes you realize he’s driving onto the base. You turn to look at him, quirking your eyebrow upwards and smiling as if to say What are you planning, Seresin? He pulls into a spot near the hangar and shoots you a devilish grin as you both get out of the truck. You run around the side of the truck to stay by his side, never having been here before, obviously. He’s grinning like an idiot; he was just sleeping a mere thirty minutes ago but now he looks like he has twice the energy as you. He holds out his hand to you and you take it and he’s running, dragging you along, and you do feel like a giddy teenager, sneaking off somewhere you aren’t supposed to be.

He leads you in through the side door and down a hallway to where a large locker room is. You doubt anyone is on base yet—maybe the Admiral or someone else higher up, which does make you nervous, but the hallways are dark and silent. Jake leads you to his locker, H_NGM_N written at the top. He swings the locker door open and you almost fall over when you notice a photo of you, placed sideways so it could stick in the door and not fall out. It’s a picture of you on the beach, from one of many nights you and Jake walked along the sand, and he had pulled out his phone and pointed it at you as the sunset sky was turning pink and orange and he told you to smile! but you got flustered and covered half of your face instead, using your other hand to reach out towards the camera but it was too late, he already snapped the picture. And there it is, in his locker for him to smile at every time he opens the door.

“What…?” you start to ask him what you’re doing here but trail off when he gives you a mischievous look that says Just wait.

You decide to keep your mouth shut and you look at the green flight suit hanging up in the locker, as well as some more casual gym clothes for workout days. He reaches up to the top shelf and picks up his helmet—the one that makes your heart leap when you see Jake wearing it in pictures he sends you. He closes the locker and turns to you, grinning ear to ear and his eyes slightly scrunched up in happiness. He takes a step forward, your bodies pressing against each other, and he tilts your chin upward and kisses you. You almost fall into him, sighing into the kiss and wrapping your arms around his waist as his hands cup your face gently.

“I’m gonna sneak you into the hangar, onto my F-18,” Jake grins in between kisses.

You look at him, stunned, and your heart rate picks up just thinking about it. You weren’t an aviator—you’d never even stepped foot near the base before. Your whole body warms at the thought of Jake wanting to include you in what was pretty much the most important thing in his life. Your stunned expression turns into a huge smile, matching his. He takes your hand and leads you to the hangar. You knew it had to be a huge space in order to fit all the aircrafts, but you don’t realize how expansive the thing was until you step into it. It opens up onto the runway, where the sun is just beginning to rise over the horizon. Many different aircrafts are lined up in the middle, supplies and tools lined up on the sides. Jake watches as your head turns every which way, taking in the whole place, and he smiles at the fascinated expression on your face.

Jake leads you over to the F-18 that has “Lt. Jake Seresin” written on the side (“Hangman” is right underneath). The top is already lifted up, the cockpit ready to be sat in. It’s a single-seater and you see Jake’s smile almost certainly straining his facial muscles as he holds his hands out towards the seat, the same level of excitement as if he were presenting you a birthday gift he’d been planning for months, beyond excited to watch you open it.

“Are you sure about this?” You ask as Jake climbs up onto the side of the plane, holding his hand out to help you step up, over, and into the seat.

“You know how important flying is to me,” says Jake, “And I want you to know how important you are to me, too. So I thought… why not bring both you and flying together?” He sees your eyebrow raise quizzically, almost scared, and he adds, “The F-18 is not leaving the runway with just you in it, obviously. And… no offense, of course.” You both laugh. “Maybe one day I can get you on a two-seater,” Jake ponders, “But until then…”

You get situated in the seat, eyeing all of the buttons and switches in front of you. Jake leans over the side, watching you intently as you take in everything. You always knew you could never do what Jake does, but now you absolutely can confirm it. You try to put together some of the pieces from what Jake’s told you in the past about how flying works; your eyebrows knit together as you lean in, observing what all of the buttons say on the switchboard and Jake smiles at how cute you look, trying to understand.

Jake rests his chin on the top of the opening of the F-18, stretching his arm out to point out different things to you. “Here you have the left instrument panel, left vertical panel, left console.” He points. “Then over here,”he reaches further over you to point, “is the right instrument panel, right vertical panel, right console.” You try to take it all in, enjoying listening to Jake’s voice as he explains. “Okay, on the left: left side warning lights, as such—” he makes funny, dramatic gestures at what he’s describing and you giggle, “—left digital display center, aaaand the integrated fuel engine indicator. Up top here are two handles… because takeoff can be rough and throw you ‘round a bit. And— Wait, I know what you’re missing.” He jumps down from the side of the F-18 for a moment, and when he comes back up, he’s holding his helmet out towards you and grinning like an idiot.

“You want me to—?” You’re almost at a loss for words. It’s almost equivalent to him handing you an expensive family heirloom that had been passed down for generations. You knew damn well that Jake did not let anyone touch his hair (except for you) and you doubted anyone else would be able to put their hands on his helmet lest he become physical. Your heart swells from his warmth and doting on you. Jake nods, smiling, urging you to put it on.

It’s heavier than you would have expected and when you place it on top of your head, the top falls partly over your eyes and you have to push the helmet back in order to see. When you do, you see Jake smiling at you, a pink blush over his cheeks. He puts his hands on either side of the helmet by your ears and steadies it as perfectly as he can on your head, gently tilting the visor over your eyes, “H_NGM_N” displayed over your forehead.

You glance up at him through the clear goggles, “Do I look good?”

“You look good. You look very good.”

“So, Lieutenant, what do I have to do to get this thing to fly?” You lightly tap on a bunch of switches, pretending to know what you’re doing and earning a lopsided grin from Jake.

“Well,” Jake says, “if you put your hand on the control stick here, then you can steer this thing wherever you wanna go.”

You grasp the control stick, unsure of how exactly to have your hand, and turn to look at Jake for his approval. He nods and leans forward a bit, extending his arm and resting his hand over yours. You shiver at the warmth of his hand and the way it engulfs your own hand. His grip is firm but gentle around you, and he guides your hand as you move the stick right and left, pretending to steer the aircraft. Your whole body is tingling at the feeling of Jake helping you “fly” his plane—you feel secure with his hand over yours. He’s making funny noises trying to simulate being in the air and he’s calling out things like Break right! Enemy aircraft at 6 o’clock! and you’re giggling and leaning into his touch as he hangs over the side of the plane.

You break out of the silly pretend and turn to look at him and it takes him a moment to realize. He stops talking mid sentence and catches your gaze and his eyes go all soft because wow, he is just so mesmerized by you. Jake grins, his dimples showing, and reaches out to tilt the visor up into the helmet. Your eyes sparkle. He wants to kiss you and you notice. Slowly, you trace your hand up to the collar of his shirt and dip your fingers around the chain of his dog tags, gently pulling him closer. Not wanting to bump his forehead against the helmet, he tilts his head and slowly, tantalizingly leans in until his soft lips touch yours. You feel everything else around you disappear.

“Hey, Bagman!”

You jump away as Jake whips his head around to see Phoenix and the rest of the Dagger Squad walk onto the hangar. Phoenix is leaning up on her toes, waving at you and Jake. Rooster is nudging Bob and they’re giggling.

“Didn’t know we had a new trainee,” Coyote smiles.

You don’t know it, but Jake had also confided in Coyote about you while they bunked together on the mission. Okay, maybe Jake didn’t confide in him so much as he could tell that whenever Jake would zone out it was because he was thinking about you. So Coyote had asked what was going on with the two of you and Jake bit down on his tongue as he thought about how he could even begin to explain what he felt about you. Coyote scolded him for not not being upfront with his feelings, and Jake had laid awake that night, staring at the ceiling, scaring himself by thinking about what his life would be like without you.

Now, Coyote sends a quick wink to his friend, as if to say Proud of you. Jake grins and nods back to him.

“What’re you guys doing here so early?” Jake asks, “Thought for sure the place would be empty for at least another hour.”

“Well, Bagman, if you’d read the group chat earlier, we decided to come onto base early so we could still play football down on the beach before it rains later,” Phoenix smiles, “But I guess you were a bit preoccupied to check your phone.” She catches your eye and gives you a devilish grin.

“I– I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get in the way here,” you say quickly, lifting yourself from the seat to signal that you would get on your way.

“No, no, wait!” Phoenix runs forward and tilts her phone up at you, snapping a picture of you wearing Jake’s helmet in the seat. She inspects the photo she took. “Adorable.”

Jake turns to face you and he’s glowing. He holds his hand out for you to take and he helps you step out from the F-18. Normally, you wouldn’t know exactly how to conduct yourself with Jake when you were around the other pilots. But standing in front of the rest of them, seeing their excited and happy expressions as Jake puts his arm around your waist, you’re relieved and content to know you can simply lean into him and not feel scared of your feelings anymore. Jake is enthused to show you off to everyone else.

When you hop down onto the ground, you stand next to Jake as the group approaches.

“Captain,” Jake nods towards Maverick, who is standing towards the back of the group. “I promise I will make up for today’s workout. But I will have to catch y’all… later.” Jake reaches behind him to grab your hand in his. Jake squeezes your side and holds his helmet under his other arm, twirling his keys on his finger.

After you pass the group, Jake intertwines his fingers with yours and pulls you into a run, leading you back into the locker room. As soon as the door closes behind you, he’s wrapping his arms around your thighs and lifting you up, spinning you around. He’s looking up at you, absolutely enthralled by your glowing expression.

“I’m sorry,” he’s saying, breathless.

“What are you sorry for?” You ask as he puts you back onto the ground.

“For not telling you how I feel sooner, for not doing all of this sooner,” he motioned his hands around the room, “Taking you here, showing you around, being able to be us around other people…”

You smile widely, cupping his jaw and tugging him closer to you. “You don’t have to be sorry,” you whisper, “I’m just so happy that we’re okay now—better than okay. I’m so…”

“...Grateful to be in a relationship with the best aviator in the Navy?”

You snort and pinch his cheek. “Yes, Jake, that’s exactly what I was trying to say,” you giggle.

Jake laughs, leaning down to kiss your cheeks over and over again. You’re weak in his arms, succumbing to his kisses. You’re more than happy—you feel as though everything in the world has fallen into place perfectly. You wrap your arms around him, not wanting to ever let go.

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick fic #jake seresin fic #hangman x y/n #top gun maverick #tgm #my stuff

2K notes · View notes

clanwarrior-tumbly · 5 months

Note

Hi ! So I had an idea for a Matthew Patel x reader fanfic, where the reader is playing Ramona in his Scott Pilgrim musical, and when they have to kiss for the play, in front of the whole theatre, they see sparks, but can't talk about it until the play is over. Like realizing they're in love or something, I hope I explained it well- thanks<3

"🎶 Howwww do I tell him my exes are evil?🎶"

Standing alone on the stage, you sang your heart out to the adoring audience, the spotlight shining down upon you and your dyed rainbow hair.

You weren't even nervous about performing for Scott Pilgrim's Precious Little Musical anymore. Everything seemed to come naturally the moment it came time for your soliloquy as Ramona Flowers.

Indeed, for the play you were starring as her, with your first solo number being an emotional lament on the inevitability of Scott fighting all seven of the evil exes in order to date you freely.

It seemed silly when you read the script for the first time...but now?

You were absolutely killing it, as you could hear a few cheers from the crowd.

Even Ramona herself was sitting there, looking quite entertained by your reenactment of her...whereas the real Scott Pilgrim was right next to her, appearing the exact opposite. He just seemed really confused and annoyed..

But you couldn't blame him for feeling somewhat mocked considering he was presumed dead after his fight with Matthew--only to suddenly come back without much of an explanation and realize this musical was all about him.

Speaking of whom, he probably felt more insulted by Ramona's actual first evil ex starring as him, wearing his coat and a ridiculous orange wig that hardly looked anything like his own hair.

Nevertheless, his other friends and all the Exes seemed to be genuinely enjoying the show. Some even teared up at your incredible acting skills and moving singing voice.

Among them was Matthew, who was hanging out backstage and preening himself until it was time for his cue.

You two have been friends for a long time, even before he knew the League was something that existed. Being theatre kids, you two were more than eager to get this musical to take off..and maybe get it on Broadway itself if the opening night was received well.

So far..it was being received extremely well. Every other actor knew their lines and sang flawlessly, putting their heart and soul into each performance just as you and Matthew did.

Although....there were a few minor hiccups--such as the part where him, Scott, Ramona, some of their friends, and the remaining Exes were all mysteriously warped out of the theater by a red portal. But they eventually returned and everyone figured it was part of the play, so it continued on without a hitch.

During one of the final acts, there was a "special" scene planned that you and Matthew have only 99% rehearsed...

Because the other 1% had to be done right the first time. It was the most highly-anticipated part of this musical:

The kiss.

One that proved Ramona truly loved Scott, forever securing their happily ever after.

When it came time for the scene, the stage darkened everywhere, with the light only shining down on you and "Scott". He took a deep breath as he turned to you, taking your hands into his own, wearing a gentle smile.

You both stared into each other's eyes for a long time, soft piano music playing in the background.

Your heart was thumping in your chest, as was Matthew's as you two tried to focus on your line delivery and nothing else.

"Ramona?"

"Yes, Scott?"

"...I love you."

"I love you, too. You saved me. Saved our relationship..and I could never thank you enough."

"Hah, I should be the one thanking you...because I finally stood up for myself, and for us!"

"Oh, Scott.."

At that point, some of the spectators began to chant for the kiss--with Wallace being the loudest, of course--and you could only smile bashfully, not realizing how fast this part came up until now.

Yet for some reason, Matthew appeared unusually nervous, red rising to his cheeks as he squeezed your hands rather tightly. You didn't know why he was acting this way, considering you've seen him do kiss scenes in past plays.

But you figured that since this was his first major theater performance, he was only nervous about wanting everything to be perfect. So you gave him a reassuring nod that said "it's okay, you can do this."

Fortunately, he seemed to understand, as a moment later he pulled you into a passionate kiss, lips crashing against yours.

The volume of the applause and cheering grew tenfold; some people even gave you a standing ovation even though the play was nowhere near over.

They loved it.

They absolutely loved it.

And honestly? You kinda liked kissing Matthew in front of everybody, partially wishing this wasn't just for the play..

But while the special effects team went to work recreating the "spark phenomenon" with glitter, confetti, and more....there was something going on between you and him that nobody else could see:

The real sparks that manifested after you both parted.

Your heart jumped into your throat as you watched them fade away, before looking at him.

Judging from his face, you knew that he most definitely saw them, too.

You've been skeptical of the sparks in the past, as you've dated several people yet never saw them at all.

So...why were you only seeing them now? And why with Matthew, of all people?

Did it have something to do with you dressing up like his ex-girlfriend?

Or was he finally looking beyond that curtain and discovering that he actually loved you?

Regardless, now wasn't the time to be thinking about any of that stuff, as you noticed he was slowly going off-script...something that you've never seen happen before. His hands shook and he seemed to forget his mic was still on.

"S-Sparks.." He stammered out, still giving you a wide-eyed stare.

"I...guess there were sparks, after all." You hastily salvaged the situation with a small laugh, putting your improv skills to work. "I never believed in such things until I met you, Scott Pilgrim."

After the lights dimmed, the cheering persisted as you grabbed his hand and half-dragged him backstage. By that point he seemed to have snapped out of his trance, deciding to scramble to prepare for the final musical number with everyone in the cast coming out.

But despite him returning to his snippy attitude with the makeup artists, he could barely look your way without blushing immensely...and quite frankly, you couldn't get rid of your smile.

'Shit..he's in love with me, I just know it..' You sighed as you sat comfortably in the chair, letting the wardrobe crew swap your dyed wig with a different colored one.

As badly as you both wanted to talk about what just happened...you knew it had to wait.

For the show must go on.

........

After the musical was finished, you changed your outfit and searched around backstage for Matthew, hoping you could finally discuss the sparks you both saw.

Soon you stumbled upon him, Gideon, and Julie...and for a moment, you were nervous.

Considering what happened between the two guys, you figured all hell was about to break loose--and apparently it almost did during the play since Gideon rigged the overhead area with dynamite. It was out of pure revenge for all of his assets being taken.

Yet it seems all was forgiven as they hugged it out, laughing with tears in their eyes, before Gideon and Julie walked away hand-in-hand.

Now that Matthew was finally alone, you had your chance.

"Since when did you two become besties?"

With a small yelp, he spun around quickly, relaxing as he realized it was only you. "Oh! Uh..no. I just...decided to give him back the company, and he let me keep the musical." He grinned, although it appeared rather forced. "That's all."

"I see.." You sighed, stepping closer to him. "Listen, we need to talk about-"

"I know." He answered bluntly. "I....saw them, too. And those weren't any special effects. They were legit."

"...are you sure about that?"

Matthew looked taken aback, as he just gawked at your question.

"Let me rephrase that," you cleared your throat. "I confess that I saw them because of you. The real you. But..I don't know if you saw them because of the real me."

"...I'm not following."

"Did you only see them because I looked like you ex-girlfriend?"

"N-No!" He nearly shouted, his cheeks flaring red as his stare remained intense. "I've moved on from her, I swear!"

Part of you remained skeptical yet. "I may need some convincing."

Before he could ask you why, you interrupted him by bringing him into a kiss this time. It initially shocked him, but he quickly melted into it, cupping your face in both of his hands.

Just like before, the sparks were there. Not as brilliant or explosive as the first time...yet they were all the proof you two needed.

Now you knew for sure that your love was real and true.

Matthew was quick to pull you back in for one more kiss after seeing them, desperate and wanting you as close as physically possible.

It probably would have escalated into a full-blown makeout session had you not heard the voices of the other Exes drawing nearer.

You immediately parted and saw them all standing there, looking utterly shocked at what they were witnessing. But you had no shame, instead smiling and waving to them as you held his hand.

"Great news, guys...G-Man's not the only one with a hot date anymore." You winked to your new boyfriend, whose ears turned red with embarrassment.

The group then smiled back, happy for your new relationship and trusting that you'll treat him with all the love and respect he deserved.

Before either of you knew it, you were being carried out of the theatre on the shoulders of Todd and Lucas, while the rest of the gang--along with Scott and Ramona--followed suit, eager to celebrate the play's success.

But tonight wasn't just about that.

It was also about what the future held in store for you and Matthew.

#clanask #anonymous #scott pilgrim x reader #scott pilgrim takes off x reader #spto x reader #matthew patel x reader #matthew patel #fluff

375 notes · View notes

emmie-tt · 4 months

Note

Can you write a harry potter x reader where the reader is harry gf and she got kidnapped into the malfoy Manor (in dh) and when Harry, Ron and hermione got captured there too, he finds her and he take her back to fleur and Bill cottage and he takes care of her because she got injured really bad while being there? <3 (also her having a lot of scars/marks and being insecure about them but harry will kiss them all and tell her they are perfect) and one night when she finally Trys to leave the bed (because her legs are really shaky) they go out and stay in front of the sea and they talk about their future? Sorry this is long hope you can make it <3

My Protector

Harry Potter x Reader

CW: Angst (Kinda) , Mental Problems, Mentions of blood and wounds, Mentions of Scars, Female Reader

How did you get here...As you lay on the cold hard ground of the Malfoy Manor your whole life flashes in front of your eyes. You had always been the quiet kid. Never causing drama. Never getting involved in drama. Never acting out. Hardly ever going to parties unless Harry had went with you.

Speaking of. Harry had been frantically searching for you, the moment he realized you were missing it felt like hi whole world stopped.

You didn't know that though. Not yet at least.

The lightheaded feeling began a few minutes ago. Whether it was from blood loss or dehydration was also unknown. You did know that it had been three days since you've had water and you also knew that gash in your forehead had been left unattended for quite a few hours so whichever was causing the lightheaded feeling was anyone's guess.

You heard a gasp from Luna Lovegood who was also being held captive but instead of reacting you ignored it choosing to focus on not passing out and praying to Godricks that someone helped and got you out of here...

The feeling of someones hands on your face brought you out of your haze and suddenly a fuzzy yet familiar voice was cutting through the silence

"Y/n...Y/n can you hear me?"

As your vision comes into focus your eyes widen as you realize who was knelt next to you.

"Harry..." you mumble as you weakly reach up and cup his face

He smiles weakly back, seeing you in so much pain and honestly so close to death...

"Hi sweetheart...I'm gonna get you out of here okay? Get you some help, alright?"

you nod slight and he slides one arm under your knees and the other under your upper torso. Picking you up bridal style he quickly makes his way out the things he noticed about the woman he loved more than anything was how much weight you had loss, the blood dripping down his arm from your forehead and that dazed almost lifeless look in your eyes.

He picks up the pace in his steps and as soon as the coast was clear he held you closer and floo you both off to the cottage.

------ At The Cottage ------

Harry quickly sat you down on the couch, the dizziness had took over and you had loss consciousness a few minutes prior. Molly gasps as she rushes over and helps Harry lay you on the couch.

She asses the wound on your head before quickly jumping into action and cleaning then stitching the rather deep wound

Harry stood at the end of the couch the whole time. His eyes never once leaving you as he watched Molly clean the wound and stitch you up.

He felt completely guilty for this whole thing, he had promised from the day he met you to protect you. You were nothing more than a ray of sunshine in his extremely dark life, the reason he lived was you and seeing you lay on the couch unconscious and injured absolutely broke him. He could not loose anyone else.

After Molly was finished she stepped back and walked over to Harry wrapping her arms around him in a tight motherly hug.

"She will be alright..." she mumbles softly into his hair as he begins to sob.

------ A Little While Later ------

Harry had fallen asleep sat on the floor next to the couch where you had been laid. His head rested uncomfortably on the edge as his hand gripped onto yours tightly. His whole body reacts when he feels you hand twitch slightly. His hands snap open and he quickly looks up at you right when your eyes slowly flutter open.

"Y-Y/n? Sweetheart, are you awake?" You groan softly as you reach up and feel at the now bandaged wound. Harry gently grabs your hand and pulls it back down, planting a soft kiss on your palm as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Hey...You're alright love...I'm right here..." He whisper softly as tears flood your eyes

"Harry..."

He stares at you sympathetically for a moment before, gently as possible, lifting you into his arms and holding you close to his chest. His hands rubbing up and down your back slowly as you sob into his shoulder where your head is resting.

He feels his own tears rise but he chokes them down to comfort you, something he knew you needed.

After a long few minutes you calm down and slowly sit up, ignoring the pounding that happens in your head at the movement. You hands wrap tightly around him and you stare down at him silently as he stares back before gently kissing your forehead leading you to let out a sigh and lay your head back down on his shoulder.

Harry noticed the shift in your personality. The silence that used to be replaced with constant chatter about things only Hermione could truly understand. The fear in your eyes that used to be full of light and shine. He noticed it all and it killed him...

"My love...Lets get you some food alright? And maybe some orange juice?"

He waits for your reply and when you nod he immediately stands with you in his arms and makes his way into the kitchen where he goes to place you in a chair only to be stopped when you tighten your grip and mutter out a soft "No..."

He stops in his tracks and stands back up with you in his arms, glancing down at your face

"No what love? You don't want me to put you down?" When you nod, confirming his question he sighs softly but obeys your wish and walks over to the fridge and pulls out a pitcher of orange juice that he pours into a cup and hands to you. As you sip at the juice he quickly makes a sandwich before taking a seat at the dining table and slowly feeds you the sandwich.

When you finish it a few minutes later he lets you finish the orange juice before standing and placing the dishes in the sink, letting the magic do its thing and clean the dishes, Harry makes his way down a hall and into the room Bill had given him to stay in.

He gently lays you down in the bed causing you to let out a soft whimper, he gently kisses your forehead

"Shh sweetheart, i'm right here...Let me get you some clean clothes okay?"

You hesitantly nod and he rushes off into the closet where he grabs an old shirt of his and a random pair of boxers before quickly making his way back to you where he finds you crying.

The guilt in his gut only grows and he walks over gently rubbing your back, you climb into his lap and he instantly lets you, wrapping his arms around your waist and rocking you gently as you sob.

Once you calm down he coaxes you off of him for just long enough to get you bathed and changed into the outfit before helping you into bed where he climbs in after you, letting you lay on top of him- rather uncomfortably, before holding you close as you fall asleep a few moments later.

And that is how most days go...

A few weeks passed and your physical condition had improved, the gash had almost completely healed, leaving a scar. All the bruises had faded and the small cuts had healed leaving their own small scars across your body.

Your mental health was another thing...While it hadn't worsened it really hadn't improved either...Harry could finally leave you alone but not for to long, you refused to leave the bed and talking still came very rarely for you.

Harry had left the room a few moment ago, to do something...He had said but truly you hadn't been listening.

Looking around the room your eyes land on the mirror hung on the wall, more specifically the reflection in the mirror. As you stared down your own reflection, seeing the large scar across your forehead caused disgust to rush over you in waves.

You slowly sit up in the bed letting the blanket fall to your waist, being in only your bra, all of the small scars that now littered your body were on full display. Your hands slowly ran over each of them, picking and pulling at them almost as if you were trying to get them off of you.

You were so lost in your own world that you didn't notice harry stepping into the room until you saw him in the mirror causing you to jump.

"What are you doing sweetheart?" He asks softly as he climbs onto the bed and wraps his arms around your waist after gently grabbing your hands and pulling them away from your skin

"N-Nothing..."

He clearly didn't believe you but instead of saying anything he gently pushed you back onto the bed and yanked the blanket off of you completely causing you to gasp and wrap your arms around his shoulders. "H-Harry! What are you doing?!"

He shrugs slightly as he leans down and kisses your forehead, right on the scar. "So pretty..."

Your whole body heats up as he leans down to your stomach area and presses soft kisses to each scar he could see as he mumbles praises.

"Beautiful..."

"Gorgeous..."

"Pretty..."

Any praise he could think of was flying out of his lips as he worshiped you, your face was the so ho from being so flustered that you couldn't stand it. This was exactly what you needed...That disgusted feeling melted away with every kiss and praise he gave you.

After a moment he looks back up at you, his glasses sat on the tip of his nose almost falling off. You giggle softly pushing his glasses back up his face, a smile appearing on your face for the first time in weeks.

Harry grins and moves up peppering kisses all over your face causing the small giggles to grow even more as you gently push him away

"My sweet girl" He says softly "Wanna take a walk with me? You seem in a good mood..."

You think for a long moment about the offer before ultimately nodding and slowly pulling yourself from the bed and into a standing position.

Harry smiles quickly following you out of the bed and helping you put your shoes on before putting his own on and leading you out of the cottage, the sun hitting your skin for the first time in weeks was an amazing feeling. You soaked it in for a moment before walking down the beach towards the water where you stop at the shore line letting the water wash over your sandal covered feet.

Harry slowly approaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder as he gazes down on your face as you gaze out at the water

"What are you thinking about honey?"

You stay silent for a moment before leaning back against him "Our future..."

"Oh yeah? What about it?"

"I don't know...Just how- how everything is gonna end...With the war, the death eaters...he who should not be names..."

He sighs softly and kisses your cheek, before being taken you had no problem calling him Voldemort but now you were terrified..

"Nothing will happen to you again...Me, Ron and Hermione have a plane okay? Please don't worry about it..."

With a small nod you turn around in his arms and snuggle your face against his chest "How many kids do you want..?"

He looks down slightly shocked at your question before thinking for a moment "Honestly, it wouldn't matter to me...As long as I have you that's all that matters...What about you baby? How many?"

"Three...Two boys and a girl..."

He chuckles, your answer was instant with absolutely not hesitation behind it. "I'll do my best to help fulfill that dream my love..."

You giggle and slowly close your eyes as you rest against him. It finally felt like you could see a light at the end of a very dark tunnel. He had been everything you needed to get through such a rough time. Your love. Your support but most importantly your protector.

THE END

Oh. My. Goodness. I think this is my best work yet, I hope this is up to your expectations love!! And I am so so sorry it took so long to get this out there!!

#harry james potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry james potter x reader #harry james potter imagine #harry james potter x y/n #harry james potter fluff #emmie tt

265 notes · View notes

euovennia · 1 year

Text

short and sweet | ghost/soap/könig

sorry to the anon that it took me so long to get out, i've been dealing with some stuff but here it is! thank you for requesting, and as always, i hope you enjoy <3

pairings: ghost x reader, soap x reader, könig x reader

warnings: bigotry, misogyny, people just being jerks, canon typical violence

summary: in which three buff military men become all too aware of your struggles. (based on this request)

simon 'ghost' riley

when the idea of simon having a crush comes to mind, i feel like he's one of those people who prefers to observe them from afar rather than have direct interactions with them

so that paired with the fact you're not in the 141 and you're mute, it's gonna take a very long while until you two start interacting, at least a few months after he realizes he's taken a liking to you

they'll usually be pretty short and sweet, but not in the typical sense you may be thinking of

i'm thinking something more along the lines of giving each other a small nod of acknowledgement when you pass each other in the shooting range; him having already practiced and you just barely walking in to start practicing

and honestly? he's completely fine with this arrangement

in fact he prefers it

he still gets a chance to give you a once over without getting distracted from the things he wants/needs to do throughout the day, he considers it a win

but when your target practice slowly begins to overlap with his, he's a bit surprised to find that he doesn't really mind it all that much

there's something oddly comforting about knowing you're just a few stalls down from him

and of course there's the added benefit of him getting to see you and your signature sniper rifle in action

for those of you wondering, yes, he's become quite aware of your talents

how could he not when soap made himself comfortable at his table during meal time and went on about, "a real cute girl and her impeccable aim."

soap's words, not his

and it continues on like this for a while, you two continuing on with your unofficially official meeting times

it becomes comfortable and familiar, two things simon isn't quite used to, but two things that he's quite content with

so he can't help but feel a little empty when you stop attending your unofficial meetings at the shooting range

he's more frustrated with himself than anything cause, let's face it, he's not the type to let himself get comfortable/familiar with just anyone so he's honestly more annoyed that he let himself get attached when he hasn't even made a move to properly talk to you (what a silly goose)

anyway, in true simon fashion he decides to deal with it by not dealing with it

in other words, he just kinda continues on with his routine because he's become so numb to the idea of people leaving his life (no matter how big or small of a role they played) that he doesn't bother acting out on any emotion he has if it does happen

and i think after a while he'll just kinda end up pushing you out of his mind (despite the fact his eyes are fully glued onto you whenever he sees you around base)

so when you walk into the range and make yourself cozy at your usual stall, he's a bit frazzled

so much so he ends up packing up his equipment and making a beeline for the exit

but it's at this moment he bumps into a particularly bratty group of recruits they'd gotten not too long ago

he has to practically hold himself back from snapping the poor kid's neck when he asks simon if he'd seen you enter the range

call it extreme, but the mocking smile that stretched across the recruit's lips as he said your name just ticked him off

simon is a man of intuition and so he can already tell something's not quite right so, curious, he just gives off a gruff, "yes," before waving them off

he's surprised that he manages to bite his tongue when he can hear of the recruits whisper a small, "what a fuckin' arsehole," as they walk away from him

anyway

cue him silently stalking after the group and being met with the sight of them crowded around you as you lay flat on your stomach, hands still steady on the rifle

he watches as you line yourself up to take the shot before eventually resting your hand on the trigger and pulling it, only to miss when one of the recruits purposefully kicks at your shin

another recruit makes herself comfortable beside you with a grin spread across her lips as her voice rings out in a mocking tone, "aw, poor thing missed her shot again. it's a wonder she's made it this far."

while his eyes narrow in confusion at your lack of response, it only eggs the girl on as she nudges your shoulder

"still can't talk, i see," she lets out a wistful sigh, "that's a shame. i think you'd sound really pretty screaming out for help on the field."

another recruit takes this as their chance to jump in, "guess we'll just have to leave her stranded. better for us anyway, no dead weight."

the girl by your side rolls her eyes, "we probably won't even get the chance to abandon her, she's so tiny. she'd probably get squashed like an ant before we could even try anything."

her remark elicits a laugh from the small group of recruits, but ghost certainly isn't smiling when he approaches the group and stares down at them with his trademark glare

they can definitely feel their souls leave their bodies when they look up and see him standing over them menacingly

it gets even worse when he opens his mouth, "that any way to talk to a fellow soldier?"

they all just kinda stumble onto their feet at his words, not bothering to say anything as their eyes remain pretty much glued to the floor

he's not having it though so he'll repeat his question, tone louder and meaner than before which causes one of the recruits to just let out a meek, "no sir."

too bad it was the one who insulted him earlier cause he immediately steps in front of them and just kinda, "what? arsehole not good enough an insult for ya?"

you, still lying on the ground and watching everything unfold, can't help the small smile that tugs at the edge of your lips as you witness the way the man's face visibly pales

upon receiving no response from him, simon straightens out his posture before point over to you and speaking once more, "you better pray that girl is more forgiving than i am, because if it were me, you'd all be covering your own asses out on the field."

he watches with great joy as they each begin to shift on their feet uncomfortably before dismissing them in a gruff voice

after making sure they left, simon makes his way back over to you who is still lying on the ground with your rifle as you line up your shots once more

he feels a small wave of pride overcome him when you hit your target perfectly

so much to the point where he walks over to you and spills out a quick, "good aim," to which you'll look up at him with those gorgeous eyes of yours and give him a small nod of acknowledgement

his eyes narrow, "you don't talk much, do you?"

you simply shake your head

he'll give you a quick once over before looking down at his watch and realizing the dining hall will be closing soon

tempted as he is to just walk away, he can't help but wonder if you'd already ate

so he speaks again, "dining hall is closing in a bit. you're free to join me if you haven't eaten yet, was just on my way."

you pause for a bit and give it a bit of thought before nodding and packing up your stuff before eventually walking out of the range with simon by your side

you don't have the heart to tell him you already ate

but when you look up and see him quickly avert his eyes from you and onto the pavement beneath your feet, you don't see why you even would

john 'soap' mactavish

when i tell you this man was gone the moment he saw you, i mean he was GONE

he genuinely couldn't believe someone as sweet and lovely as you could exist in the same space as him

but the moment he sees you shoot that gorgeous little rifle of yours with a precision that could only be described as pure, raw perfection? it's over. he's all in.

i'm talking, 'fuck me up and send me straight to heaven. this is how i die.'

he's so down bad for you it's insane

and i imagine soap can be quite confident and charming when he wants to be so best believe he'll have no problem in walking straight up to you and trying to strike up a conversation

i'd like to put emphasis on the 'trying' part of that last bit because it becomes quite clear quite quick that you're don't talk

well

maybe the 'quite quick' part isn't so accurate because it probably takes him a minute or two before he finally catches onto the fact you don't talk

in other words, it takes you pulling out your phone and looking up a volume muted symbol and pointing at it before motioning to yourself for him to catch on

he just kinda makes an 'oh' face before letting out a small chuckle and saying something like, "i see now, why didn't ya just tell me that before?"

and you're just looking at him like ???

but he's looking at you like :)))

yeah he's being a little ridiculous right now, but he just got back from a long mission and he's quite sleep deprived so don't mind him he's just being a silly goose, ok?

but truth be told, that dumb little first interaction doesn't even really matter in the long run because it's the bold initiative on his part that makes it so easy for the two of you to become friends

you spend a lot of time hanging around one another and your once carefully planned, scheduled days turn into unpredictable blurs that are jam packed with soap getting the two of you into trouble

i imagine you've become quite familiar with the stoic face of captain john price

but really, how could you not?

especially when soap catches onto the fact that price is more inclined to let soap off with a warning for whatever trouble he's got himself mixed up in whenever you're around

he may be older than the rest of his team, but he knows that dopey grin soap's got plastered on his face whenever he's around you means he's extra sweet on you

and who is he to stand in the way of his boy's happiness with some extra chores?

he's a total dad <3

anyway

because you spend a lot of time around soap, i think it's fair to say that you sometimes end up pushing off work in favor of hanging around the scotsman

and really who could blame you?

he's got a dazzling smile, a charming accent, and a sparkling personality. you'd be a fool not to soak up all the time you can get with him

but that just means whenever he does end up leaving for missions, that's when you really buckle down and start getting all your piled up work done

it can be frustrating and a bit of a bother, but knowing your schedule will be completely free (at least for a little bit) as soon as he gets back is more than enough to get you through the tedious work load you've allowed yourself to accumulate

only this time it's a bit harder to remember that

and it's all because of your newly assigned CO

he's a bit of an older man, which isn't a bad thing

at least until you find out that his mindset lines up with the ideology of a 1950's working husband

you know, the kind of guy who believes it's a man's job to go out and work a job to provide for his family while his wife stays home and takes care of the children, house, and meal prepping

in other words

a complete and utter bigot

so between trying to complete all the work you'd so foolishly neglected in your time hanging out with soap and trying to stop yourself from snapping your superior's neck every time he grabbed your rifle from your hands with a condescending, "careful! wouldn't a small thing like you hurting yourself with this," it's no wonder you couldn't remember that today was the day soap was returning from another one of his top secret missions

in fact, the thought doesn't occur to you at all until soap pulls up a chair beside your desk and makes himself comfortable while you're looking over some paperwork your darling CO had left you because he, "works too hard and needs a break."

more like a break in his skull, but to each their own

anyway i can definitely imagine soap carrying around a small notebook that you use to communicate with him when you can't be bothered to watch him try and fail to decipher your hand movements

and yes, he totally brings it on missions with him just so he can open it up and trace over your handwriting with a gentle touch and a soft smile and oh my god imagine confessing to him like that (i'm kinda dying to write an imagine based on that now (mute or non-mute reader, i'm down for either tbh) so lmk if you're interested!)

anyway

when the two of you break apart from your usual 'welcome back' hug, he'll slide the notebook over to you as a simple question falls from his lips, "since when do you do paperwork?"

and this just prompts you to let out a huff and roll your eyes before snatching up the notebook/pen combo and writing out all your frustrations on the pages

it's safe to say this man is absolutely floored when he reads through it all

frustrated and angry as he is, he doesn't outwardly express it

he simply grabs the heap of paperwork sitting on your desk and promptly tosses it into the nearest recycling bin before grabbing your hand and leading you off to something completely unproductive and time wasting

it's exactly what you need

the night will eventually end off with him walking you to your room and offering you a sweet hug with a small lil kiss to your head

it's adorable, really <3

what's not so adorable is the way he barges into price's office with the notebook in hand before tossing the pages where you'd detailed your CO's behavior onto his desk

price reads through them and best believe all this man can see is red

as someone who takes pride in becoming a role model for those who work under him, he can barely believe of the things he's reading

he's so ready to throw hands

but he can't sadly

so he settles for the next best thing

COMPLAINTS, COMPLAINTS, COMPLAINTS

with how ruthless price is in his mission to humiliate this man, it's really no surprise when you eventually find out he's been fired

the moment you and the rest of your unit get the news, you practically run all over base to find soap

and the moment you do, you've pretty much tackled him to the ground in a hug

and he simply wraps his arms around you, that same dopey grin price teases him for stretched onto his lips because he knows and he couldn't be happier

he's just happy you're happy <3

könig

so because of his affiliation with KorTac, i like to imagine that you're part of another PMC group that tends to help each other out on missions whether it be due to mission overlap, or just needing some extra support

but despite this, i imagine it would take quite some time before you and könig even meet simply due to the fact that you're almost never assigned to be sent out on the field

and if i'm being honest, i can definitely see not a single member of KorTac having even the slightest clue that you exist until you're randomly brought onto the field one day during a particularly tricky mission

long story short, könig and a few other of his team members got ambushed and they needed all the help they could get which is where you come in

granted they don't actually see you until you all meet back at base, safe and sound as can be

while könig and his team are surprised by the new face, they're even more surprised to learn that you've been part of the team for nearly eight whole months

when asked about why they've never seen you on the field before, the answer is simple; "she's been doing other missions," which you've come to learn essentially means, "she's still in training because we don't trust her to be on her own yet."

and while the other members of KorTac seem to just take that simple explanation at face value, könig can't help but notice the way your face falls and shoulders slump upon hearing it

and it's at this moment he realizes he hadn't seen you anywhere on the field at the time, so where the hell were you?

he decides he needs to be more attentive

so the next time KorTac calls on your group for some extra assistance, he's keeping a sharp eye out there in hopes that he'd see you

but he doesn't

even so, he still holds out hope for next time

and the next

okay this is ridiculous

where the hell were you?

he knows you're going on the missions with the rest of the team because you're always there when everyone gets back to base, still dressed in your tactical gear and wiping off the dirt that seemed to cling onto your uniform

so why did he never actually see you?

he's a tall guy so surely, he, out of anyone, should be able to pinpoint your location on the field with a few simple turns of his head, right?

well apparently not

you're practically a ghost (hehe see what i did there)

his frustration with not knowing where you're at on the field has him going mad

he so desperately wants to just come out and ask you directly, but he's convinced himself that you'll somehow take offense to such a question so he decides against it

so he decides to settle on the next best thing

which is pretty much just endlessly staring you down on the field before you eventually disappear off to god knows where

it's not the smartest idea he's ever had if the way you seem to squirm under his piercing gaze is anything to go by, but he just can't seem to help it

especially not when he comes to notice just how pretty you really are

the soft slope of your nose, the curve of your jaw, the way your cheeks puff out so cutely when you're finally able to get your hands on a much needed snack after a particularly long mission

you're stunning, how could he not stare?

yeah he's definitely got a little crush

but he'll never admit it

especially not with the amount of teasing horangi throws his way whenever you enter the room

anyways i think i'm getting ahead of myself here, let's get back on track lol

i imagine it all comes to a head on the battlefield

one moment könig is going at it with no more than three enemy soliders, but it seems within the blink of an eye those numbers have nearly tripled as he sees a sizeable group of enemy soldiers heading this way

he knows he's more than capable of holding his own in close combat, but with this many people? he can't help but feel a little uneasy as he sees the group grow closer and closer

that is, of course, until the unmistakable sound of a rifle fires through the air and the group of soldiers who were previously approaching him steadily begin to fall to the ground, a pool of crimson blood flowing from their heads

könig's eyes catch onto a bright red laser making small patterns on the ground in front of him so, curious, he looks up to find the source of the light coming from under a pile of rubble located on the roof of a building

upon making eye contact with the small area, the red laser pointer goes dead and you quickly poke your head out from your self appointed hiding spot and offer him a small 'ok' motion with your hand before concealing yourself back into your spot once more

he swears his heart soars at the sight

satisfied with himself and your stellar aim, his mind becomes preoccupied with the mission once more, a newly placed sense of vigor in his attacks

but when everyone is cozying up in the common area after the mission's been completed (with the exception of you bc you're taking a shower), könig decides he can't hold himself back from asking a certain question that's been on his mind for a long time

so he simply decides to go for it and ask, "why hasn't she been assigned to our missions before?"

your teammates all look at each other for a few moments before one of them pipes up, "didn't think she was ready."

another one decides to offer their input, "there are times we still don't think she is, but our captain told us to bring her in anyway."

könig and the rest of those present from KorTac's confusion must be apparent because one of the other members of your team decides to speak out, "she was still a bit rocky when she first came to us. we just wanted her to polish up on her skills before we sent her out on an official mission. it's more out of worry than anything."

the explanation calms the small bout of worry that had infested his mind when they first offered their reasoning for not including you on missions, but he can't help but feel a little pit grow in his stomach

so he decides to speak up once more, "well i think they're capable. perhaps it's time you trust them more."

one of your teammates brows raise, "you think so?"

he nods, "took out a whole group of soldiers that were coming at me, i'd probably be done for if it weren't for them."

he finds the look of shock on their faces amusing as they ask, "how?"

könig leans back, "they were hiding in some rubble on one of the buildings. took them out with a sniper."

he watches a look of realization come over their faces as one of them exclaims, "i thought they were running around the field, not hiding!"

horangi decides to pipe in, "you didn't know? she's always running around the rooftops. i see her all the time."

your teammates practically implode on themselves at his revelation before they start hounding him for questions, ones he graciously answers

könig watches with a small smile hidden under his hood before he can see a small movement of the corner of his eye

he turns his head and sees you peering over at him with a small smile and he watches as you sign out a quick, "thank you," with your hands

he sucks in a sharp breath before bringing up his hands and signing back a shaky, "you're welcome"

his hidden smile widens as he watches your eyes glisten with delight, "you know sign?"

he's quick to respond, "since i was little."

horangi is the one to give his arm a harsh nudge when könig all but freezes upon seeing what you sign to him next

"would you like to join me for dinner?"

2K notes · View notes

musicforastylesrestaurant · 11 months

Note

Hi hun, would you be in the mood to write something about dadrry dealing with his kids terrible twos pls

The Terrible Two’s.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

blurb masterlist is here.

authors note - something about lhh being a dad does something to me i simply cannot describe so enjoy my loves…!

word count - 1.4k

in which, travelling with your husband around europe hasn’t been the most smooth sailing, especially when your daughters currently experiencing her terrible twos.

Faith Anne Styles.

After dating your boyfriend Harry for just over a year, you fell pregnant at the lovely age of nineteen and now both of you are at the age of twenty one and had a beautiful baby girl.

The perfect mix of both of you.

But life wasn’t all that swell.

As you stand backstage at the One Direction concert in Oslo, Denmark ,the pulsating excitement of the crowd seeping through the walls from the support act McBusted.

You watched as your boyfriend, the charismatic Harry Styles, attempts to navigate the treacherous waters of your two-year-old daughter Faith's terrible twos.

It seems that tonight, the tantrum monster has reared its head, threatening to disrupt the carefully choreographed chaos of the concert.

Great timing there, Faith Baby.

You glance around and notice Niall, Louis, and Liam, all observing the situation with wide eyes and amused expressions.

Harry, ever the doting father, crouches down to Faith's level, his brows furrowing in concern.

"Hey, baby love," Harry cooed gently, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of the chaos. "What's got you feeling so gloom and doom, eh?"

Faith's tiny face contorts, her little fists clenched tightly as she lets out a shrill cry. The sound reverberates through the backstage area, drawing amused glances from the rest of the band.

Louis, unable to resist a cheeky remark, leans over to Liam and whispers, "I think little Faith here is giving Harry a taste of his own teenage rebellion. Karma's a funny thing, innit?"

You never knew Harry in his pre teen years, however from the stories that you had been told by his family and fellow bandmates, he was a bit of a cheeky chappy.

And you couldn’t help but think that Faith, at just two years old, had developed some of his cheeky persona.

Before going down for naps, she would negotiate about how she wasn’t tired and then proceed to jump out of her crib, running through the house the same way that Harry would.

If you ever went to the shops or the park, then you would often catch her talking to random strangers as she held onto your hand or sat in her stroller, waving at them and being the kind girl she is and due to her father most likely doing the exact same thing.

You knew your two year old shouldn’t be interacting with strangers but she was just simply too adorable.

Liam chuckles and nods in agreement, but their attention is quickly pulled back to the unfolding drama.

Harry tries a different approach, his voice filled with patience and understanding. "Faith, darling, let's try to use our words, yeah? What's making you so upset?"

But Faith's wails persist, growing louder and more intense with each passing moment. She falls to the floor, kicking and flailing her arms, her cries echoing through the backstage area.

You watched as Harry ran a hand through his shoulder length hair, you could see slight stress lines appearing on his forehead.

He took it exceptionally hard when Faith would be upset, no parent liked to see their child sad but Harry absolutely hated it. He would always sit with her until she felt up for talking and although she was only a two year old and could hardly form a coherent sentence he would nod his head and listen to every word she said.

Faith idolised him.

Niall chuckles, watching the spectacle unfold. "Well, she's certainly giving us a show, isn't she? The drama of the terrible twos."

Tell you about it.

Harry shoots Niall a slight glare, finding absolutely nothing about the situation taking place funny in the slightest,before refocusing his attention on Faith.

He kneels down beside her, speaking softly amidst the cacophony. “Hey, my love, I know it's frustrating. Let's take some deep breaths together, okay? In and out."

But Faith's tantrum continues to escalate. She starts throwing toys and objects around, her frustration seemingly endless. The backstage area is filled with the commotion, drawing curious glances from the crew members and dancers nearby.

One thing you hated was gaining unnecessary attention.

Louis leans closer to Liam, a mixture of amusement and awe on his face. "I never thought I'd say this, but Faith might just give us a run for our money in the energy department."

Liam chuckles, nodding in agreement. "That she does. But Harry's got this. He's a patient one, that lad."

Harry tries different tactics, attempting to distract Faith with a toy or a silly face. But her cries persist, and the tantrum shows no signs of abating.

The band members exchange glances, a mixture of amusement, sympathy, and mild concern. This is uncharted territory for them, witnessing Harry deal with the full force of a toddler tantrum.

Harry's voice remains calm, though a hint of exhaustion seeps in. "Faith, sweetheart, I understand you're upset. Can you tell daddy what's wrong?"

But Faith's words are muffled amidst the tears and screams, her frustration rendering her temporarily speechless.

She continues to lash out, her tiny body wracked with sobs.

You step closer, offering your support. "Harry, maybe it's best if we take a break. Find a quiet spot for her to calm down."

Harry nods, his eyes filled with determination. "You're right, love. Let's find a quiet room where she can settle."

Together, a crew member leads you as well as Harry and Faith away from the backstage chaos, seeking Together, you lead Harry and Faith away from the backstage chaos, seeking refuge in a nearby dressing room.

The familiar scent of hairspray and the faint echoes of music provide a contrast to the storm of emotions still raging within Faith.

Gently closing the door behind you, you find a comfortable corner where Harry can sit with Faith in his arms. The room is dimly lit, allowing a sense of tranquillity to settle in.

Harry cradles Faith, his touch gentle and reassuring. "Shh, my love. We're here in our little haven. Take your time, sweetheart. We'll wait until you're ready to talk."

And if it was up to both you and Harry, you would both wait an eternity.

Faith's cries gradually subside into sniffles, her breath hitching as she tries to regain control, gripping a strand of her fathers long curls whilst the other grips onto the hem of his shirt.

Harry's soothing presence provides an anchor in the midst of her emotional tempest.

You sit beside them, offering a comforting smile. "It's okay, Faith. Mommy and Daddy are here for you. We love you, no matter what."

Faith looks up at you, her tear-stained cheeks glistening in the soft light. Her eyes search yours, seeking solace and understanding. You gently stroke her hair, allowing the silence to envelop the room, giving Faith the space she needs to collect herself.

Minutes pass, and the tension begins to dissipate. Faith's breathing steadies, her tiny frame relaxing against Harry's chest.

The storm of her tantrum has run its course, leaving behind a weary calm.

Harry speaks softly, his voice a comforting lullaby. "Sometimes, my love, we get overwhelmed. It's okay to feel angry or frustrated. But remember, we're always here to help you through it."

Faith nuzzles closer to Harry, finding comfort in his words. She wraps her tiny arms around his neck, seeking solace in his embrace.

The best father daughter duo.

The door creaks open, and Niall peeks inside, his eyes filled with concern. "Is everything alright?"

You nod, a sense of relief washing over you. "Yes, No, Faith just needed some quiet time. She's calming down now."

There was no doubt that Niall was Faith’s favourite uncle when it came to the four boys.

Niall steps into the room, his face softening as he gazes at the scene before him. "You're doing a great job, you guys. Parenting isn't easy, especially in the midst of all this craziness."

Harry smiles, gratitude and weariness mingling in his eyes. "Thanks, Niall. It's a learning process for all of us. But moments like these remind us why it's all worth it."

The sound of music drifts through the door, a reminder of the support act performing still in full swing. The energy of the crowd and the rhythm of the songs pulse through the walls, but in this small sanctuary, you find a moment of calm amidst the storm.

As Faith's breathing evens out and her grip on Harry loosens, you lean in and plant a tender kiss on her forehead. "We love you, Faith. And we're here for you, always."

Always and forever.

For eternity.

588 notes · View notes

kitkats-and-kittens · 3 months

Text

One of my favourite things to think about is the rest of the batfam all having their own ‘Brucie Wayne’ personas. So here’s me listing how I imagine the main family members would front to the public.

Dick

I think would be very similar to Bruce with the same air-headed personality. As far as the internets concerned he can’t spell orange and pretends not to know any of the 50 states let alone which one he lives in. He also uses the fact that he never officially finished college to his advantage. As a kid he was more eccentric and people just knew him as that little kid whose constantly high of sugar and lollipops. Not much changes when becomes an adult.

Of course like father like son and he is also extremely charismatic. His persona is a little more goofy than Bruce’s and he’s known as the Wayne’s resident gymnast, at least in the air. He’s made a habit of acting as though any and all fine motor skills come to an absolute stop the moment he isn’t doing some complex flip, or cartwheel. There are serval videos on YouTube of him tripping over air, spilling drinks over his shirt, and stumbling into several guests, only half of these were faked. He also has a reputation of being an absolutely insane drunk. He went viral on twitter for doing a triple backflip in the middle of a gala which resulted in a shattered punch bowl, several traumatised guests and a fake news report claiming he’d died which sent the city into a riot for the next 24 hours all because he was a little bit tipsy.

Jason

Jason was pretty young when he ‘died’. Before hand he was the happy go lucky kid. With stars in his eyes and more energy than a Chihuahua hiked up on red bull and pure, liquified blue raspberry. Of course you had the occasional leech who saw in some news report that he used to be a street kid which resulted in several rumours about his ‘horrid violent nature’ but all it took was actually meeting him for most to completely disregard this.

After his death he doesn’t hang around the rest of the family much. Especially not in public and out of masks. However there is the occasional day (once every millennia or so) where he’ll stroll up to whatever part or gala or social event the Wayne’s are hosting that day, with his foolproof, impenetrable disguise Tayson Jodd absolutely no relation to Brucies dead kid, nor the elusive red hood who has a hate account dedicated to his very existence.

His whole thing tends to be a regular upstanding member of society. He acts completely normal. This wasn’t always the case. He used to change it every time he went to the parties, either acting as some depressed, lonely rich guy or an alcoholic and on one particularly memorable occasion a closeted drag Queen. However one time he showed up without a persona pre made and ready to go and just decided to wing it.

However Tim Drakes insane paranoia meant he stayed up a good 3 weeks after that night just to make sure Jason wasn’t trying anything and when Red hood found out he found it absolutely hilarious and resolved to be as respectable as possible while also generating maximum suspicion for all other members of his family.

Stephanie Brown

Although not officially adopted by the Wayne’s most people have gotten used to seeing her just roll up with the Wayne’s and it didn’t take long for social media to realise that Brucie had emotionally adopted her, if not legally. At first Steph didn’t really understand the need for a persona. She was already fine with keeping her actual personality and not turning it off for the cameras.

It took seeing Jason, who was having an absolute blast with his public persona to open her mind to the range of possibilities and she spent a full 3 months crafting a personality from scratch (putting that psychology degree to good use).

She cycled through a couple. Rich party girl, serious career woman, ditzy idiot. But eventually she landed on scheming socialite. She saw some tabloids slandering her for being Tim’s ex and although the rest of the family was not happy she took it and ran with it. Landing herself in the circles of the most gossip loving, shit talking, hot woman she could find.

She makes sure she exudes villainy at all times and has been seen eyeing Timothy Drake from across the room, stroking a cat (though no one knew where she got it from) and sipping a martini. Although she doesn’t particularly like how cruel some of her companions are she finds no greater joy than passively aggressively remarking about how Donna is wearing the same heels she was 3 years ago and oh my is she running low on funds? She was born to instigate and takes every opportunity to do so.

Tim Drake

If Tim is known for anything then it’s his ability to appear as though everything has gone to his exact calculations on the outside while internally screaming and just completely winging whatever half brained plan comes to mind. But one forgets, he isn’t just a Wayne but a Drake. Son of Janet Drake at that.

As a kid he was very much a mamas boy and would replicate her cold calculating air to the best abilities of a 10 year old boy. As he grew up however he realised that he much preferred letting people underestimate him. So in the end he settled on the stoner.

It was pretty unexpected for most of his family. Bar Dick who embraced it with all the reverence of a chaotic older sibling. Of course Tim Drake being as meticulous as he is meant when he made this persona built it from the ground up. He gave himself a favourite drug, a fake dealer, and he methodically updates his account balance every week, taking out just enough that it looks like he’s been buying.

Not only does this have the added benefit of explaining the random times he’s passed out in the middle of a party or those random compilations of him on YouTube simply staring into the abyss for hours on end, but it also means he had to try way less than his siblings when it comes to presentation. If Dick or Bruce show up with even so much as a slightly ruffled collar the tabloids will go on for weeks about the mystery guy or girl they definitely slept with. But when Tim does it, they just laugh. He gets a pat on the head and a glass of water shoved into his hands and no one thinks anything more.

And if he can also use it as an excuse for a few extra minuets of sleep then whose going to stop him?

Cassandra Cain

Cass didn’t need to do much of anything. When she first arrived in Gotham she was small, quite and not very well versed in social customs so it was practically written in the stars that she’d become an instant fan favourite. However unlike most of her siblings most of her fans aren’t focused on her what she’s been doing, or with who, but rather on trying to spot her.

She’s some aloof, mysterious figure to them and she’s also become a bit of a where’s Waldo meme. News reporters will post overview shots of the huge hall the guest are occupying, the grounds of the manor, the well kept lawns, the roofs, and the internet will go crazy trying to find her. At first it was difficult but only because she kept to herself, you’d find her in a corner of the room, or hiding behind one of the taller guests but ever since she realised what was going on she’s been making a conscious effort to make it as difficult as possible.

Some of her hiding spots include: under the table, the roof, inside the fountain, disguised as Dick Grayson, a statue, on the chandelier, and somehow as one of the reporters, camera and all. It’s become a bit of a game to see who can find her first and she remains Gothams favourite Wayne.

Duke Thomas

Duke isn’t really sure what to make of this whole public persona thing. He finds hiding such a big part of himself a little strange, and doesn’t much enjoy the idea of putting on a mask for others. So he does what he does best and puts the rest of the Wayne’s to shame with his sound logic.

He’s just himself. And somehow manages to cause the biggest impact. The people aren’t used to rich people not being overly eccentric. This is Gotham after all! And Duke Thomas’ actual personality is not exactly something they were expecting.

This is the same man who raised an army of teenage armies in the absence of his hero. To call him impulsive would be an understatement. Also he very much enjoys ‘eating the rich’ so to speak. He used his powers to convince one particularly nasty man that he needed full psychiatric care by randomly disappearing whenever he was in their line of sight.

He hangs out with Dick a lot, but only so when the worst of the Gotham socialites approach he can make them feel as uncomfortable as possible by questioning their thoughts and feelings on the working class, living conditions and all the other stuff they usually couldn’t care less about which leaves them scrambling for an answer that won’t completely ruin their reputations. Although he’s been branded ‘the responsible one’ that’s only because he presents himself as such to reporters. Most of the people attending the galas live in fear of him ever approaching them.

Damian Wyane

Being the youngest meant that people already had expectations by the time Damian showed up. Although most had no idea where the kid came from that didn’t stop them from making assumptions, and the rumours circulating from before he was officially introduced range from a mini Bruce Wayne to raging alcoholic. And yes, these were published when reporters knew damn well he was 10 years old maximum.

When the public do finally see him for the first time it doesn’t take them long to craft a persona for him. Damian of course sees this whole thing as beneath him, he doesn’t understand why he would need to hide himself, he didn’t train with the league for years to just not show of his skills. Dick tries to get him to think of it like training, as though he were on an undercover mission. This works a little too well and now he takes it so incredibly seriously it’s hard for the others not to laugh.

He arrived, squeezed in between Brucie Wayne who was blowing kisses to the camera, Dick Grayson doing a handstand, Tim Drake who looked absolutely blitzed and Stephanie Brown who was manically rubbing her hands together. Cass nowhere to be found and Duke giving his classic sunny smile to the camera.

So of course people realise this kid must be the adult. There’s jokes about how Damian must be the one doing the Wayne’s taxes, about how he probably drives Bruce to work, and other such things. Which is only further cemented by the kid himself. But he also doesn’t talk much (Dick said if he had nothing nice to say he shouldn’t say anything), and a few (illegally taken) photos show him drawing, as well as his small army of pets and so people are torn between this kid who is clearly far too mature for his age and this cute baby of a child who likes fluffy animals and crayons.

Damian is disgusted by both sides, but there isn’t much he can do about it and resolves instead to fuck with everyone by leaning into it and alternating on a seemingly random basis between clueless child and grown adult in a 10 year olds body. It mostly ends up terrifying the rest of his family because occasionally Damian (who several of them watched kill a man) will come up smiling and demand to be placed on their shoulders, and other times the same kid (who found a cow a decided immediately he was a vegetarian) will be found sipping straight vodka and going on about the good old days with people 8x his age as though he were some drunken world war 2 veteran.

#bruce wayne #richard grayson #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #damian wayne #Public persona #batfam #they were born to terrorise the rich #dc comics #brucie wayne #Tayson Jodd

267 notes · View notes

igotanidea · 10 months

Text

Single parent struggles : father!Dick Grayson x mother!reader

THAT!!! PICTURE!!!!!

summary/request: single Father Dick Grayson x single Mother reader? Where at some kids birthday party also can the kids be between the ages of like 3 and 4.

A/N: writing this was just so cute and heartwarming and pleasant and fluffy. I think this is going to be my new verse, so if anyone ever get any ideas in that - please ask me to write more UwU <3

***

„Thomas, please stop running around!” Y/N laughed happily when her 4 year old son slipped on the floor and run into her legs. She was quick enough to catch him, before he actually landed on his bottom and started crying.

“Sorry mum!” he grinned with the cutest smile there was, and not paying much attention to his mother’s admonishment regained his balance and followed the friends that he was chasing. “Wait for me!” he yelled before disappearing.

Her son was invited to a birthday party of his kindergarten friend, and obviously, she happened to be a tag along. Helping with the service and acting as a supervisor. Not that she complained. Being a single parent was rewarding, but also happened to be her bread and butter and she didn’t have many occasion to go out the house and spend time with actual adult outside of work. Sure, she loved Thomas with all her heart and never regretted the decision of having him, even when his failure of a father took off running the second he found out about the pregnancy, but sometimes she was just tired. And having an opportunity to hang out and relax and watch her son being so happy around other kids were simply heartwarming. Thomas shed too many tears and experienced sadness asking about the other parent and Y/N swore, that to the maximum of her abilities, she would protect him from that pain.

“God….” she muttered to herself, gathering the fruit bowl from the counter. “I swear the kids never get tired……” her son’s energy was exhausting, but the serene expression in her eyes were showing the truth feelings behind the sigh. Lost in her own thoughts Y/N turned around not noticing the man standing right behind her, bumping straight into the sculpted chest, immediately being caught by two strong arms, the bowl serving as some sort of airbag.

“I know, right?” the man let out a laugh still holding onto her “I’m dealing with the same problem with my daughter. Don’t know who said that girls are quieter and more polite than boys but it does not apply in this case.”

“Hello Richard.” Y/N tilted her head “didn’t see you around for a while.”

Richard Grayson, more often than not called “Dick” was the treat for all the mothers. Handsome, well-build, kind with charming, boyish attitude and most importantly, single father. Rumor has it that the mother had some mental problems and one day escaped the hospital where she and the daughter were getting some treatment and observation, took the kid and left it on the threshold of Dick’s house before disappearing herself. Despite Dick’s attempt to locate her (and boy, that man definitely had the resources, being the son of the Bruce Wayne) he never succeeded, giving up after some time.

And that gave the soccer mothers plenty of opportunities to get him involved in all possible kids’ activities. Kindergarten play? Picnic? Cinema sally? Birthday party? He was pretty much everywhere. Much to all the husbands’ displeasure.

But, since both he and Y/N were the only single parent and the subjects of many rumors that gave them the opportunity to get close and become really good friends. After all, there’s no one better to understand the struggles of raising a kid alone.

“Yeah….” He scratched his head awkwardly, letting go of her arm “I’ve been running after Abby, making sure she does not get in any troubles. But it seems like the fire is fought for a moment and I can finally catch a breath. “

“Really?” Y/N mocked putting the bowl away, crossing arms over her chest “guess the apple does not fall far from the tree, right? Abby takes a lot after you.”

“Are you calling me a troublemaker?” Dick caught his chest and his eyes widened in a fake shock. “Me?”

“Yes.” She teased “Aren’t you?”

“Maybe a bit” he muttered taking a step forward. This made Y/N take a step back and in no time she was trapped between the kitchen counter and his body. “But there’s one more thing me and Abby have in common.”

“And what may that be, Mr. Grayson?” she raised an eyebrow, observing his face carefully and impatiently awaiting the answer.

“We both happen to like the member of the l/n family.” He smirked, grabbing her waist and pulling her towards him closing the distance between them. Her hands found a way towards his neck, locking around it and bringing his lips down for a kiss. It’s been a while since they had any opportunity to be alone, and they were not going to miss it. Even if that meant making out in a messy kitchen in someone else’s house, hiding from their kids. They were acting like teenagers, sneaking around and trying to keep their relationship a secret. And despite the fact that they were both adults this courtship was gentle, careful, soft. They have been hurt before and the cautiousness was making them both take it slow.

But obviously it didn’t mean that there was no passion between them when Dick grabbed onto her tighter, wanting her closer, his hands travelling around her back, sneaking under her shirt, craving to feel her skin, but still keeping the slow, loving pace.

“Behave….” She mumbled into the kiss, but not really stopping him. “Someone can see us…..”

“Oh, please…” he fought the urge to roll his eyes, moving to brush her cheek, jaw and neck in the teasing attempt to make her whine for him “you can’t keep your hands to yourself either.” The bastard was right since her fingers were playing with his hair, pulling lightly.

“I can stop….” She started withdrawing her hands but he was quick to grab her wrist keeping it in place.

“Don’t.” his soft whispers and touches were literally making her melt. “I missed you, Y/n. I missed this…. us……” God, how she loved his attention, even when he pulled back and stopped kissing her, instead looking her straight in the eyes. “I .... wish to have more of you just for myself…..”

“I know. I feel the same.” She smiled and her eyes glistened. Before she met him, after Thomas’s father left, she didn’t believe she could find love again. But life can be surprising and even if they haven’t really said the L word to each other,now she was trapped in the arms of a man who did love her with the undying passion and with whom she felt save and taken care of us as never before. And every time they stole a kiss or a secret touch or just talked or spent time together she felt like crying because of that warm feeling inside her chest and belly. This time was no different as few tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Crying again?” Dick cupped her face, brushing those drops away with his thumb “don’t cry on my account princess.” He brushed his nose over hers, forehead meeting forehead, eyes closing, breathing each other in.

“How can I not?” she sighed deeply, unable to hold back everything he was making her feel. “Dick, I….”

“I know, baby. Trust me, I know.” he planted a chaste kiss on her forehead, rocking her gently to the sound of music coming from the garden causing her to smile again.

He knew.

He knew the heartbreak, the pain, the unanswered question why. He’s been through it all. And it was not his intention to play around with Y/n’s emotions and feelings or to hurt her. Ever. Not with everything she’s been through.

“I’m not like him…..” he whispered, almost inaudibly and she had to swallow the lump in her throat.

“How long do you think since one of the mums start looking for you to move the chairs or ask for another stupid favor?”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Are you jealous?”

“And what if I am?” she twirled a strand of hair on her finger, eyes fixed on his.

“Well, than I’m flattered, but you have no reason for that, baby.” His hands intertwined with hers, caressing tenderly “I lo…..” he almost said it. Almost.

“Daddy?” a quiet, girl’s voice cut him off and it took massive amount of energy to muffle the annoyed groan. Of course it was kids who interrupted him.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he pulled back

“I cut my finger….” Abby pouted, her gaze switching between her father and Y/N. “what are you doing?”

“We were just getting some fruits for you.” the older girl smiled “I’m gonna go and let your father take care of you, little one. See you around, Richard.” She moved away from him and with one final lingering secret brush of hands left him, still aching for her, not able to ever get enough of her presence.

“Daddy?” Abby asked again once Y/N was out of sight.

“Yes?”

“Do you like Thomas’s mum?”

“Do you?”

“She’s nice and pretty. And gives the best hugs. “ the girl frowned, thinking deeply “so yes, I think I like her.”

“That’s good to know.�� Dick smiled pecking the top of Abby’s head. He was not going to let this woman out of his life and his daughter’s acceptance was very important for the future purposes.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x oc #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson fluff #dc fluff #father!dick grayson #dick grayson x mum!reader

499 notes · View notes

thelov3lybookworm · 4 months

Text

You Think I Wanted This?

Summary: The king does not care for anyone's opinion but his own, and he is being entirely serious.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: first fic for fourth wing 🥳 as y'all know, all that goes through my mind is forced marriage trope, so...😏

Enjoy my babies! ❣️

（づ￣3￣）づ╭❤️～

•○🌑○•

The day was gloomy, and thunder had been cracking until an hour ago.

Y/n was grateful it had stopped, as she could continue studying without flinching every few moments. She had an important test coming up, and being King Tauri's only daughter, she had the pressure of getting good grades on her shoulders.

If only to show the people not everyone a failure in the royal family.

Y/n sighed, setting her pen down and rubbing her eyes with cramping fingers.

It was getting dark, and soon she would leave for having dinner with her family.

A knock drew Y/n from screwing her eyes out, and she called out to let them in.

Her older brother, Halden, stepped in, smiling. "How are you today sister?"

"Tired. You?"

"I'm good. You have been summoned. Father wants to meet you in his private office."

Y/n's brows furrowed. What could he want from me?

It was almost never that her father summoned his kids, and when he did, it was rarely in his private office. Those were for important matters, and he deemed his children... not important.

Y/n stood, closing her book and turning to her brother, stretching slightly. "Do you know why he has summoned me?"

He shook his head. "No idea."

"It can't be good." She mumbled, glancing into the full length mirror that took up half of the wall opposite her bed to make sure she was in an attire considered appropriate for court meetings or formal business, then followed her brother out of her room.

He was the second oldest of all the kids the king had, with Y/n being the third and Cam being the fourth, who was away in the rider's quadrant.

Y/n envied him.

"If it helps, I saw a few authorities and riders entering the office when he told me to retrieve you."

Y/n frowned, falling in step next to Halden. "That did not help."

He gave her a helpless smile. "My apologies then, princess."

She rolled her eyes, though a smile made its way onto her face. She wrapped a hand around his arm, hoping whatever the matter was, it was nothing grave.

•○🌑○•

Y/n paused outside her father's office, tugging her brother to a stop, who turned to her with furrowed brows.

"What is it?"

She placed a finger against her lips, nodding towards the two people standing nearby, whispering to each other furiously, obviously locked in a heated discussion.

Halden's eyes narrowed. He nodded to the empty spaces next to the door, which was suspicious too, considering there should have been two guards on duty manning the door.

Y/n turned away, staring at the ornately carved door to her father's office. She decided it was worth the risk, and slowly pressed her ear to the wood.

The voices were faint, but she could make out the words.

"So you want to... what? Separate Riorson and your daughter?" That was definitely her father.

"Yes, your majesty."

"And why is that?"

"Because bonded to two of the most powerful dragons, they have the power to overthrow you. And I still don't trust the Riorson boy." It was the voice of a female, and Y/n felt like she knew who it was, but she couldn't place the voice.

"But wouldn't acting on your plan put him closer to me, and indirectly give him access to more resources to take over?" His voice was sceptical, and Y/n wondered who this woman was.

"No, your majesty. Away from my daughter, he would be weaker than if with her, and you yourself know how dangerous they can be together."

Y/n heard her father sigh, but before she could hear his response, someone touched her back, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

She whipped around, holding back a yelp, and glared at a grinning Halden.

"What?" She snapped.

"Did I scare you, Y/n?"

She slapped his arm, huffing, annoyed that he found her amusing.

His smile faded, though, as he glanced towards the two people nearby.

That was when Y/n noticed that they were staring at her and Halden, having walked closer while Y/n had been eavesdropping.

Y/n's eyes snagged on the man, his muscular arms wrapped across his chest. He was gorgeous, and Y/n wondered if he was even real. Because, surely, someone could not be this handsome, right?

Or maybe the gods simply deemed him their favourite.

Y/n blinked when someone moved in her periphery, realising she was staring, and swiftly looked away, heat rising to her cheeks.

A moment later, Y/n decided to glance at the two people again, noting that the other one was a female.

Her brows furrowed as she eyed the braid hanging over the girl's shoulder, and somewhere in the back of her mind, Y/n knew that she had met this girl.

Y/n cocked her head at the possessiveness in her eyes.

"I feel like we've met before. Have we?" Y/n questioned.

"On a couple of occasions, yes, we've met. I'm Violet."

It took Y/n a moment to place the name.

"Violet... Violet Sorrengail?"

Violet nodded, her hand coming to rest on the man's bicep. "And this is Xaden Riorson."

"Fen Riorson's son." Halden murmured.

A weird feeling spread through Y/n. "You are the Riorson boy they are talking about?"

His eyebrows- one scarred- rose, and Y/n realised she was the only one who heard the conversation going on on the other side of the door.

She swallowed, glancing at her brother before addressing Violet. "Is your mother in there?"

"Yes." Violet's eyes were filled with confusion.

"And are you and Riorson involved... in any way?"

"I- Yes?" Violet whispered, her eyes wide. "How did you know?"

Y/n sighed, horrified. "Did you tell your mother about it?"

"No. But what are you getting at?"

"Obviously, you saw me trying to listen in. Your mother was talking about separating you two."

Everyone's jaw dropped open, and this time Riorson spoke up. "They- no one knows though, and those who do would never betray us."

His voice did something to Y/n, but she reminded herself that he was unavailable. And he was also not the type of man she would go for anyways.

"Well, they know. Surely something might have happened, and she made that connection. Whatever it is, they are planning to-"

Halden's fingers wrapped around Y/n's arm suddenly, and he pulled her closer and turned her to face the door a moment before the door actually opened.

There, stood General Sorrengail, Violet's mother, and she simply ignored her daughter and Riorson, meeting the eyes of Y/n and Halden, bowing her head in deference, as was necessary.

"Prince, princess. Your father awaits your presence."

She held open the door as Halden and Y/n shuffled in, then beckoned the other two inside.

The office was massive, though sparsely furnished.

"Father." Halden bowed at the waist, and Y/n curtsied.

"I am assuming you have met Riorson here. I have summoned you here today because I have news for you."

Everyone stayed silent, anticipation building in the air.

"As we all know Riorson has dedicated his life to our kingdom and has promised he has only our best interests at heart, has proved time and time that he is willing to do anything for our kingdom."

Y/n held her breath, her gut telling her this was not going to be good.

"So in reward, I will marry my daughter to you, Xaden Riorson."

Y/n's heart stopped beating for a moment, before starting up again at a speed she failed to count, and Y/n wondered if it would gallop out of her chest entirely.

"You can't be fucking serious." Violet blurt out, then her wide eyes stare swung to her mother, who smiled sligtly.

"We are entirely serious, rider." The king said, his expression saying all about how displeased he was about her outburst.

He then turned to Y/n and Halden, his brows rising.

"You better start preparing. The wedding will be in two days' time."

And they were dismissed.

Y/n didn't miss the disbelieving look thrown her way by both Violet and Xaden, but she was not going to argue with her father.

They didn't know what would happen if she did, and she was in no mood to speak out when she could not form a single coherent thought that was not I hate him.

•○🌑○•

@bubybubsters @artists-ally here it is, the fic i was telling you about 😏

(Not tagging others in case they havent read fourth wing and dont wanna be tagged 😉)

#xaden x reader #xaden riorson #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #rebecca yarros #fourth wing headcanons #xaden headcanon #fourth wing fanfic

185 notes · View notes

lauraneedstochill · 1 year

Text

I won’t fall for someone who can’t misbehave

summary: Aemond is betrothed to the sweetest girl in the Seven Kingdoms. She's smiley, soft and kind-hearted. Until she isn't. (or, alternatively: "No one took your side when you were a kid. But I'm doing it now.")

pairing: Aemond Targaryen and F!Reader (her House is not specified) words: 9000 +

warnings: slow (!) burn, attempted harassment, Aemond is in pain 70% of the time (headache and all that) and has no clue how to act around someone he's clearly in love with.

author's note: I'm working on 3 fics at the moment, and it's taking forever to finish (yay for my poor time management skills!), so I whipped up something short(er) for starters. I'm a bit more comfortable with sharing this one because I feel like it's actually more of my style (wow, that sounds kinda pretentious). Rhaenyra is the queen here but I barely mention the blacks (not out of spite, I just thought it wouldn't add anything to the story). also, I don't think women would be allowed to misbehave like that... I don't care ;)

Aemond knew of the preplanned betrothal even though everyone around him was ridiculously mysterious about the subject matter. He's been made aware of the upcoming visit of some noble family, and the preparations were quite extensive. Then he overheard Baela telling Jace that the expected guests will bring their daughter. The middle one. It wasn't very hard for Aemond to put two and two together. His wedding was long overdue, and Alicent was eager for him to make his choice. But he dreaded the mere thought of it.

Aemond's never been very good at courting women, but mostly due to the lack of trying. He's used to them looking at him with fear and suspicion as if he's some kind of wild animal ready to attack at any minute. Getting sidelong glances did hurt him growing up, but with time Aemond learned to benefit from it, using his fearsome image as a shield. No one ever dared to try and break it to see what was underneath. But now he is faced with the inevitable change that's approaching his life at the speed of a storm wave. To him, taking off the eyepatch won't be nearly as excruciating as giving into the vulnerability of letting someone in, opening up to someone. He's never been afraid of much but that? That was terrifying.

The anticipation made Aemond nervous. He knew he should probably ask around and try to gain any information about his soon-to-be wife, but it felt wrong. Not knowing felt even worse. No matter how good of a fighter he was, fighting the uncertainty seemed like a challenge. Aemond spent his nights tossing and turning, wrapped up in blankets as insomnia was clinging to his body. He tried to busy himself with training, but his usual easy victories brought him no satisfaction. He's been winning for so long maybe it was time for him to lose. Except not to his training partners but to a stranger, who in time will get a permanent place in his life.

His rides with Vhagar, which usually brought him peace, now had the opposite effect. The old dragon acted annoyed and disgruntled for no reason, huffing and grumbling at every turn as if she could sense his own frustration. You can’t tame your emotions yet I’m supposed to listen to your commands? Silly boy. If Vhagar could speak, she would probably tell him that, Aemond thought. And he blamed himself even more.

Somewhere in the midst of it all, the headache came back. As usual, it started with a feeling of pounding heaviness in the back of his head, which then spread further: into his temples, forehead and down the hateful scar. Within a couple of days, the pain gets so bad, he has to grit his teeth to keep a straight face, and he's barely able to shove a few bits of food down his throat. But it's a topic he never brings up, it's a humiliating secret that's just between him and his mother. When he lost his eye, for the first month the pain was close to unbearable. The maester kept telling him that it was caused by the healing of skin tissues and assured that the intolerable feeling would go away. It never did. His scar was something he learned to cover up, and the bright red stripe faded slightly with time, but the pain lingered. Aemond opted to think that it only contributed to him becoming more resilient, yet that argument didn't withstand the test of time. The pain receded for some short periods, but then it'd always come back, and he could never get used to that, no matter how hard he tried.

He can only hope it will get better by the time the guests arrive. But the gods seem deaf to his prayers, and the night before the event he doesn't get a wink of sleep. He goes through his day in a daze, skipping the training session to hide in the library instead, although he can't bring himself to focus and read more than a single page. When the time comes for him to walk into the dining hall, it's the last thing he wants to do but he forces himself to go. Festive ornaments, tables laden with the finest dishes, bright-colored clothing of everyone around him blend and blur into each other. He takes deep breaths and counts his steps, gathering all his strength to sit down and not wince at the movement.

All it takes is one look at him for Alicent to understand what's going on.

"Aemond," she approaches him, whispering. "What's wrong? Is it the headache again?"

Aemond doesn't want to admit it, but he lacks the energy to deny it either so he just nods. She gives him a regretful look, gently squeezing his shoulder.

"Should I call for the maester? Maybe he will be able to come up with something to ease the pain."

"I don't think we have time to fuss over me," he declines with a pain-stained voice. "I was under the impression that we're expecting someone to join us today."

Alicent sighs. She knows better than to fight his stubbornness, but she hates how helpless it makes her feel. Aemond hates that feeling, too.

"Please don't tell me you require motivation," Aegon's voice is loud as it is but right now it sounds deafening, and Aemond sharply exhales. His brother flops on a nearby chair, bringing his ignorant attitude with him.

"Undoubtedly you've interacted with women before," he chuckles, completely unaware of Aemond's suffering. "Try not to scare her with your creepy stare, and maybe she won't run away."

Alicent briefly closes her eyes in annoyance. She glances around, making sure not to attract any attention, and then grabs Aegon by the chin, forcing him to look at her.

"Enough with pestering, I need you to behave yourself," her voice is tinged with irritation. "Just for one evening. Can you do that?"

Aegon's body stiffens up, the smug look disappearing from his face.

"As you wish, mother," he mutters, and she lets go of him. Alicent shoots another glance at Aemond before leaving. Aegon gives his brother a side-eye but says nothing.

Aemond is exhausted, anxiety's bubbling in his chest, and he thinks he has a few more minutes to compose himself yet that time passes in the blink of an eye. Before he knows it, the guards at the door make the announcement, and he sees a group of unfamiliar faces. None of them are of his age, though, and for a moment that realization brings him some comfort. But then he notices a female figure in the distance as she's approaching the entrance.

When she walks in, the music goes quiet, and Aemond hears people gasping. It seems like every man in the room has his gaze on her. And she certainly is a sight for sore eyes. She moves with a gracious pace, the silky fabric of her dress flowing downward with every step. It's not too revealing, but it hugs her body in all the right places. Her hair is up, and he can see the waves of her collarbones peaking through. A half-smile is plastered on her face, but she doesn't seem to be nervous. If he was to take a guess, he would've said she was tired. But she won't let it show, keeping her head high and being seemingly unaware of the attention she got. Maybe she's used to it just like he is, Aemond thinks. Although people usually glare at him for a completely different reason.

"Someone is about to get a piece of cake," Aegon elbows him lightly, his voice low.

"Someone needs to shut up," Aemond snarls, earning a laugh from his brother. That catches her attention, and her gaze lands on Aemond. When their eyes meet, her face softens, smile growing wider. He tries his best to force a wan smile in return, but his stomach turns in discomfort. He can already imagine how people will react: a stunning woman like her with a man like him, what a tragedy. That thought stings, his anxiety growing stronger. The headache gets worse, and he tightens his grip on a cup of wine that he hasn't even tasted yet. Aemond can't help but wonder if she knew she would have to marry him. If it does bother her as much as it bothers him.

The members of her family are greeted as guests, with no mention of a possible betrothal. Her name is the only one he catches — and then silently repeats it a few times. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, the sound of it breaking through his clouded mind. She's seated next to him, as expected, and he notes that her dress compliments her eye color. Aemond is thinking of a way to start a conversation, but she beats him to it:

"You gave us such a warm welcome, but I must admit, I'm surprised by the scale of it. I hope it wasn't too much of an inconvenience?"

When her words reach his ears, the buzzing in his head stops, and Aemond turns to Y/N, astonished by his own reaction. It's not the naivety of her question, nor the friendly tone of it. It's just her voice. Melodic and mellow, it feels soothing among the loud noises they're surrounded with.

"I assure you, your family was simply welcomed with the respect you deserve," he answers pensively. His throat is sore, but he can't steel himself to take a sip of wine, afraid that it will make him sick. He wants her to speak again.

Aemond asks about her family, letting Y/N lead the conversation. She's easy to talk to and she gives just the right amount of information before jumping to another topic. At any other time, he would've really enjoyed the flow of it, yet now he is growing weary. The headache is still there, but her voice does bring him some relief. That's until she abruptly stops.

"Are you feeling alright?" she sounds worried, and the same emotion is written on her face. Aemond tries to blink away his exhaustion.

"I apologize if I'm not exactly the best at keeping you company. It's been a long day," he knows he should've come up with a better excuse. He feels like he can hardly function at this point.

She keeps her attention on him for a few more seconds. Then Y/N moves her eyes to the other end of the table, where her family is seated. She makes eye contact with her father and gives him a big yawn. It's obviously and comically fake but it works: her family finds an excuse to leave earlier. Aemond knows that now he also got a chance to escape soon after. He feels a pang of guilt knowing that he's the reason their conversation was cut short, but Y/N doesn't make a big deal out of it.

"We shall continue on the morrow when we are both well rested," she smiles reassuringly at him before leaving.

Aemond seriously doubts that he'll get any rest as his head feels like it's gripped in an iron vise again.

The next morning he drags himself out of bed later than usual, the pain now dull but present nonetheless. He sits with his face in his hands, breathing in and out, until he's almost numb. The almost leaves a sour feeling in his mouth — or maybe it's the nausea, he doesn't know nor does he care. He's been handling this for years, he can survive another day.

Aemond decides that since he is to be wed, he should make an effort for it to work. He thinks about his duty, his mother, about Y/N, who traveled all the way to the King's Landing for a man she's never met before. Aemond thinks of everyone but himself because there's only so much he can do without draining himself completely.

He missed the breakfast already but hopes to find Y/N within the perimeter of the castle and rushes out of the bedroom. He's passing by Helaena's chambers when he hears someone laughing. And it's not his sister. Aemond debates if he can deal with kids right now, but chooses to give it a chance and quietly walks in. Helaena has embroidery in her hands but seems more focused on a sight in front of her, and he follows her gaze. Y/N is sitting on the floor with her back to the door, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera are on either side of her, their cheeks plump and pink, tiny fingers grabbing her dress. She's reading to them, and it's a tale they've heard many times before, yet the kids are listening attentively, occasionally making noises of excitement. Aemond doesn't need to speak gibberish to know that they are fascinated by the melody of her voice and the playful tone she uses to make the story more engaging. He leans on the door frame, his body relaxing at the sound. Jaehaera puts her head on Y/N's shoulder and eagerly turns the page, making her laugh again.

"You are an impatient little thing," Y/N giggles.

"That she is," Helaena agrees, and when Y/N turns to her, she is surprised to see that Aemond joined them.

"Pardon me, I didn't hear you coming in," she stands up in a hurry, both kids are instantly glued to her. "Your sister was kind enough to keep me company."

"I asked her to come by after breakfast, and they haven't left her side ever since," Helaena explains, sounding very pleased.

"Would you mind if I steal this new friend of yours?" Aemond asks while keeping his eye on Y/N, waiting for her reaction. Her face flushes but he sees no indication of discontent. Aemond grudgingly admits to himself that it brings him something akin to joy. But it fades, absorbed by his numbness.

"Make sure to be on time for dinner," his sister nods, calling for the nanny to take the kids.

It takes a little bit of persuasion but eventually Jaehaerys and Jaehaera let Y/N go, and she follows Aemond out of the room. Y/N mentions that Helaena wanted to show her the library, and Aemond agrees to take her there. Along the way, he strikes up a conversation in attempt to compensate for their last one. As she's telling him about her morning, her voice seeps into his mind like honey, and Aemond tries to concentrate to take the right turns and not trip on the stairs.

When they walk into the library, Y/N pauses, looking around in awe. This woman makes men turn around after her, yet she is so easily impressed by the simplest things, Aemond thinks. The prince wonders if she'll ever be impressed by him.

"This is where you study?" she's admiring endless rows of shelves, and Aemond gives her an affirmative "hmm".

"How many of these have you read?"

"Quiet a few," he is modest as ever, and she shoots him a curious look.

"I wonder what are your preferred subjects."

"History and philosophy," he doesn't mean to sound so terse, but whatever interactions with women he's had before, that experience obviously didn't turn him into a lady's man.

"Would you be so kind to share your favorite books with me?" when Y/N glances at him, there's a sparkle in her eyes. It looks like she's actually interested to know more, as if she does want to know him. His immediate response, however, is to distance himself, and he takes a step back.

"I'm afraid there are not enough hours in the day to name them all," Aemond opposes, hands clasped behind his back.

"Please, take pity on me, I need something to help me pass the time," she presses the matter further but does so very gently. "Name just a couple."

He gives into her pleading tone and reluctantly agrees but they don't stop at just a couple. They end up spending the day roaming in the library, lost in the labyrinth of shelves and books. She's never too pushy with her questions, she's making small jokes, she doesn't take offense at his cold demeanor. Behind his mask of feigned indifference, Aemond feels like someone is hammering at his left temple, and the pain echoes through his whole body. But he doesn't dare to leave Y/N hanging for the second day in a row.

The prince is too preoccupied with his internal struggle to notice that she's growing worried about him again, and by the time they come back for dinner, her face expresses an alarming concern.

"I must apologize if I tired you out with my relentless chatting," she says, almost whispering, when they're seated.

"You did not, no need to fret," Aemond states. I must apologize that you are to marry a man who can't curb the pain that's spilling out of him, he thinks.

Food is tasteless in his mouth. Y/N is sitting on his right, and Aemond's body can't adjust to the foreign feeling of someone being in his close proximity. He's so accustomed to being on his own, he doesn't know how to unlearn that.

Throughout the whole dinner, Aemond can feel his mother's gaze on him. Later that evening, when a maid brings him a cup filled with the milk of the poppy, he decides against taking it.

He regrets it the very next day.

When Aemond tries to lift his head off the pillow, he feels like his skull is full of rocks. They're rolling from side to side as the pain rumbles, and for a few minutes he can't hear anything else around him. That's why, when Aemond opens his eye, he's startled at the sight of his mother standing in the doorway.

"I did knock but got no response," she gives him a look that's a mix of concern and suspicion. She suspects that he's unwell again and it concerns her. He wishes she never knew of that burden of his.

Aemond moves up in his bed, clenching his jaw. He knows his mother well enough to realize she must've had a reason for this early visit. Alicent proves him right when she speaks:

"The queen went into labor a couple of hours ago."

He absentmindedly hums, not knowing how to react. His mother continues, with a hint of hesitance:

"There will be a feast when the baby is born. We thought... Rhaenyra and I, we thought it would also make for an occasion to do the announcement. About your betrothal."

Her words come as no surprise to Aemond. It is what's expected of him, it's about his duty and his responsibilities, but this time he doesn't want to think of that. He wants to be left alone, to drown in the layers of blankets, to go back to his short-lived slumber.

"The day Y/N arrived, I asked the queen to postpone the announcement. To give you some time to get to know each other," Alicent takes a few steps towards his bed. "It seems like you're getting along quite well?"

"I could think of no better woman than Y/N," Aemond admits and it is true. What he doesn't say is that he can also think of a dozen other men who would be more deserving of her, more than he is.

Alicent catches the discreet sadness in his words but doesn't know what caused it. She eyes her son with undisguised empathy.

"Her father implied that she is content with the betrothal, too. I thought you'd be happy to know," Alicent gives him a lax smile. "I shall let you go back to sleep," she adds and leaves.

Aemond knows he'll get no sleep now. He repeats the well-known routine of deep breaths with the minimum movements, scraping up the remains of his strength before leaving the room. He goes straight to Y/N's chambers, wondering if his mother visited her, too, and how that visit went.

To his surprise, Y/N is nowhere to be found. A maid informs him that she left the room a few hours ago. He can't find her in the library and she isn't in Helaena's chambers, either. He searches for her in the courtyard and then goes back to roam through the corridors, peering into every room on his way. He's lost in his thoughts until he hears Y/N calling his name. Aemond turns around — and there she is, at the other end of the hall.

"I've been looking for you," she skips towards the prince, beaming. He could never imagine anyone being this happy at the sight of him. She stops when they're only a couple of meters apart, her smile glowing.

"We must've passed each other, because I've been looking for you, too," he confesses. Y/N seems very pleased with herself though he isn't sure why.

"I think the weather calls for a walk," she blithely suggests. "Would you like to accompany me?" — as the words leave her mouth, she reaches out a hand to him. For a moment Aemond's looking at her baffled, and then hesitantly takes Y/N's hand. Her skin is soft, fingers warm, and she intertwines them with his own. That gesture comes so naturally as if they've done it before, yet Aemond clearly hasn't. The feeling of holding someone's hand is unusual to him. But it seems enjoyable.

By the time they get to the garden, Aemond finds that her hand fits perfectly in his. He's blushing profusely. He also notices that his headache receded a little and he can't help but think that Y/N was the reason for that.

"Your mother came to me this morning," she informs him as they are walking hand in hand. "I assume she talked to you, too?"

"She did," Aemond confirms. "Am I right to guess we had the same conversation?"

"Well, mine was about uniting two great Houses," Y/N mimics a man's voice, and Aemond grasps that Otto was there, too. "Your grandfather gave a very convincing speech".

"He had a lot of practice while being the Hand of the King. Maybe he misses having an audience," the prince chuckles and she laughs. Aemond holds a pause and then adds:

"Forgive me if I'm being too blunt but I wonder if the conversation was of unpleasant nature to you."

"It was not," she slows her steps. "I know what's expected of me and I will perform my duty. But if I'm being honest...," she turns to him, and the tenderness of her gaze tugs at his heart. "I am glad that it's you," Aemond feels a flare of an unknown emotion deep in his chest. "We'll make a pretty good team. Wouldn't you agree?"

Aemond lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He looks down at their hands and then back at Y/N.

"It seems so," he tells her, a slight smile in the corner of his lips. There's a moment of comfortable silence as they make a short stop in the shade of the trees.

"But I shall give you a warning," Y/N says with a mischievous grin. "My siblings take any celebration very seriously. Every single relative of ours will come to the wedding, and most of them won't shy away from enjoying a cup of wine... Or two".

"Can any of them outdrink Aegon?" he jokes, and Y/N bursts into laughter.

Aemond gets carried away by their conversation once again, losing track of time. While she's listing her relatives, adding innocuous remarks about each of them, the prince is enthralled by the warmth that radiates off her. Her presence alone calms the storm of his insecurities, lulling his fears to sleep. She does that so effortlessly, it's almost intimidating. But there's a certain thrill to it, too — the thrill of being close to her, sharing laughs and stories, and Aemond clings to that feeling.

He enjoys the moment while it lasts; until his headache predictably creeps up on him a few hours later. He can't tell if Y/N senses that something is wrong but she's the one to suggest returning to the castle. Aemond gladly accepts it.

On the way back they're greeted by one of the guards who notifies them that the queen gave birth to a girl. Y/N lightly squeezes Aemond's hand.

"Tomorrow is a big day then," — and the prince knows exactly what she means. The fragile bond that they only started to get the hang of will soon become public knowledge. It won't be their secret anymore but rather an over-discussed gossip.

"There is still time for you to plan an escape," Aemond jests half-heartedly.

Y/N looks puzzled for a second, but then shakes her head:

"Only if you're planning one. We are in this together, remember?" her thumb brushes over his. "It's all about teamwork."

Aemond savors the last fleeting minutes of their day. He barely touches the food at dinner, the pain in his head intensifying but he pushes through. When the time comes for them to part, he doesn't want to. That feeling is alien to him and the prince is clueless about its nature. But he knows that with her any misery will be bearable.

When Aemond walks into his chambers, he notices a little jar on the bed table. It's the one that the maester used to bring him the ointments in, and the prince sighs. The maester doesn't grasp the extent of the problem but occasionally would suggest a thing or two to help with the pain. They've tried using cold packs, then the warm ones, tried massaging his temples, then drinking cinnamon tea, then adding some ginger that's known as a remedy for reducing inflammation... Nothing has worked so far.

But he should make an effort.

Aemond barely glances inside the jar and tosses away a piece of paper with the instructions scribbled on it. The prince already knows it all too well: he applies a thick layer of whatever that concoction is on his scar, involuntarily wincing at the cooling sensation. It smells of herbs and feels oily but absorbs into the skin pretty fast.

For some reason, his mind goes back to his mother's words — "I thought you'd be happy to know". Aemond is unsure what happiness means. The happiest day of his life is forever chained with the worst one, smeared with blood and pain that he's been carrying through the years.

But now that he met Y/N, he questions if there's more to life than what he's been through so far.

While he is laying in bed, Aemond wonders if can consider Y/N his friend. If she will ever be more than just a friend to him.

And then, before he knows it, the prince is fast asleep.

He wakes up feeling like a new man. At first, he mistakes that feeling for the remnants of his dreams that he was enveloped with at night. He shakes off his drowsiness and looks at the ceiling, catching a glint of sunlight that seeped through the curtains. That's when Aemond realizes that the pain is gone.

He sits up, bewildered, waiting for any sign of discomfort yet nothing happens. He waits for a couple of minutes — and then for up to thirty, but his head is clear and doesn't ache at all. His eye shifts to the jar on the bed table, and Aemond makes a note to extend his gratitude to the maester later. Suddenly the upcoming festivities don't seem so torturous anymore.

He doesn't get a chance to see Y/N throughout the day as everyone is preparing for the feast. When Aemond walks into the hall of the Iron Throne, he takes in the decorated surroundings. Unlike the last time he was here, now he wants to remember every detail, knowing that this evening would be of great importance.

The room fills with people, but Aemond patiently waits for her alone. He spots Y/N the second she steps in. Her dress is violet, the material bright and luminous, and it puts her into the spotlight yet again since she's the only one wearing that color. As soon as she takes her place at the table next to Aemond, her hand finds his. He's getting used to that way too fast. It's hard not to.

The first round of toasts goes to honor Visenya, the newborn daughter of the Queen. Rhaenyra willingly tolerates the sweet talk, generous with her smiles and appreciation. At some point, when the timing seems right or maybe when her cheeks are already aching, she gives a nod to Alicent, and Aemond knows what it means. As she starts her speech, he ruefully releases Y/N's hand.

But right when they're standing up, with everyone around cheering and staring, Y/N lightly presses her body against his, and Aemond feels how tense her back is. That's when it dawns on him that she's well aware of the attention but she doesn't really like it. Instinctively, he puts his fingers on her waist, his touch respectful and delicate. She breathes out and briefly rests the back of her head against his shoulder. For a moment it feels like it's just the two of them.

That feeling doesn't go away.

Usually, he's not the one to take part in dancing, but he does so for her. Aemond feels out of practice and he can't tell if that's what makes his head spin or if he's getting tipsy from the intimacy of their dance. Her moves are elegant, well-rehearsed, her body follows the rhythm of the music with ease. He doesn't remember when was the last time that silly activity brought him so much elation. Did it ever?

Time flows by in a blur, and they eventually take a pause after going into a fit of giggles at the sight of Lord Velaryon trying to improvise a move and failing, only to amuse his loving wife. Y/N suggests going out for a while and Aemond is keen on following her but then his mother catches up to them, her hand and her gaze are on him in an instant, pulling him away.

"Aemond, you've been dancing," she can't hide her bewilderment, a timid smile on her face.

"Should I not? Seems like a suitable occasion," Aemond chaffs with a tilt of his head.

"It is, indeed," she doesn't let him go just yet, and he discerns the hidden meaning of her words, the apprehension she fails to conceal. Aemond wants to grant her some respite, at least for the rest of the day, so he tells her with plain-spoken sincerity:

"I can assure you, this isn't a cause for your distress."

But then he quickly finds a cause for his when he doesn't see Y/N around. He goes searching for her in the crowd, then leaves the room altogether, coming out into the hallway.

Aemond hears her before he sees her — and she isn't alone. It takes no effort to recognize the second voice, which belongs to no other than Jason Lannister. As the prince rounds the corner, they come into sight, and Aemond has a very bad feeling.

He missed the start of their dialogue, and the look on Y/N's face is unreadable. She's oblivious to Aemond's presence and he decides to watch them. He tells himself that he'll never allow her to get into trouble. There is something very tempting in having a chance to save her from anything; as if he feels the need to prove himself to her. He tries not to entertain that thought.

"... It's not too late to change that, don't you think," Ser Lannister purrs, his tone sickly sweet but arrogant.

"It is. Which I have no regrets about, ser", when Y/N talks to him there's not a hint of friendliness in her voice.

"Your approach may be short-sighted. The proposition of mine wasn't of a frivolous kind," he's circling her, the manner of his movement is borderline predatory.

"I believe you will soon find a lady to welcome your advances but I would very much prefer to drop this conversation," she recapitulates.

Aemond tenses up, feeling like this is the moment for him to step in. Then he looks at Y/N and realizes that something is off. Her face expression changes — but it's not a look of fear. By the rising of her chest, he detects that her breathing sped up, eyes are shooting daggers at the man in front of her. She's looking, for the lack of a better word, positively furious.

But Ser Lannister, apparently, is not very good at reading signs as he comes improperly close to her.

"I can be very persuasive," his fingers fall on her back — and then go lower. "I think you should appreciate the attention while I'm this generous and..."

He doesn't finish his sentence. In about two seconds his face is suddenly slammed into the nearby wall, the hand he put on her is now twisted behind his back. Y/N uses her free hand to push right between his shoulder blades, pressing him into the stony surface.

To say that Aemond is shocked would be an understatement.

Right at this moment, she looks like a different person. This side of her he's not acquainted with but it only adds to her appeal. The change is barely perceptible: she's still maintaining her posture, keeping up the face of a woman who knows her worth. But Aemond catches a flaming spark of defiance that threatens to shutter her restraint. He can sense her anger from far away despite her doing her best to contain it.

"I do not know what kind of attention you are used to, but you're forgetting your manners. Next time you dare lay your hand on me, I will not hesitate to break it," her voice doesn't lose its usual softness, but now has an added layer to it. It sounds sharper, bolder. It sounds like she's not afraid of anything.

Y/N lets Ser Lannister go, taking a few steps back and smoothing her dress. He's frozen at first, but then slowly turns to her.

"You didn't... You did not just do that," there's a visible red mark on his cheek that will undoubtedly turn into a bruise.

"Did what, ser?" her tone is laced with coldness.

The man looks at her in disbelief, his face is a parade of emotions — from shock to annoyance to anger.

"You will not get away with this," he scowls, nettled.

"You're telling me that you're considering letting everyone know you were overpowered by a woman? Sounds hard to believe," Y/N seems unfazed.

His mouth opens and closes a few times before he roars:

"You, insidious wre...!"

This time Aemond is the one to interrupt the man:

"I suggest you watch your tone when speaking to my betrothed," Y/N flinches at his voice, turning to face him, and Aemond slackens his pace a little.

"Shouldn't she watch hers? She's talking to a lord," Ser Lannister exclaims lamely, his arrogance instantly toned down a notch.

"And I see no wrongdoing on her part. Care to explain what got you into this situation?"

"It was a... a simple misunderstanding," his excuse is so pathetic that it makes the prince sneer.

"And what was the matter in question?" Aemond comes closer to the man which makes ser Lannister evidently uncomfortable. He carefully contemplates his next move.

"I only wanted to extend my congratulations on her betrothal," the man fakes a smile. "Mayhaps I expressed myself poorly".

"You should opt to choose your words more wisely next time," Aemond looks down on him. "Perhaps you are needed somewhere else?"

"I shall rejoin the celebration then," ser Lannister eagerly agrees and bows out way too quickly.

Aemond can barely wait for the man to get out of sight before turning to Y/N. Even though the prince witnessed the whole thing, he can't stop himself from asking:

"Did he harm you?"

"He didn't get a chance," she mumbles, avoiding his gaze. She looks so embarrassed, he wants to offer her some comfort but isn't sure how.

"Dare I say we've got enough interactions for one evening?" Aemond tries to lighten the mood yet she only offers him a half-hearted smile.

"I'll escort you to your chambers," the prince suggests, and before she can argue he adds: "I know you can stand up for yourself if needed. But I insist."

Y/N doesn't move an inch.

"...You are not mad at me?" she's looking at him with doe-eyed sincerity, clearly upset. Aemond is mad at himself.

"I'm thinking about cutting his arm off," he says under his breath, but she catches it.

"Aemond, there's no need!" Y/N gasps and he sees a glimpse of a smile on her lips.

"I will have to disagree," he starts but then she grasps his elbow and Aemond's hand — finally — clings to her again.

"I don't want you to get in trouble because of me," Y/N confesses.

"And I don't want you to get hurt," his fingers caress her arm through the lace material. Y/N's cheeks heat up and Aemond finds it adorable.

"I think I... I was the one who did some damage," she complains.

"You must imagine my surprise," Aemond drawls, teasing.

"Oh, Gods," a quiet groan leaves her mouth. "That was not very ladylike of me."

Y/N covers her face with the other hand, her grip on his arm loosening. Aemond dithers before gently brushing her palm away from her face.

"You did the right thing and you have nothing to be ashamed of," he enunciates each word. "He only sets an example of unseemly behavior."

"I'm afraid I wasn't too far off," Y/N remarks, her voice relenting.

"Hmm, you're certainly not to be truffled with," he retorts, earning a faint laugh from her as they start walking, arm in arm.

"May I inquire how did you... master that very handy skill?" Aemond ventures to ask. That image of her — brave and unapologetic in her anger — will be forever engraved in his memory. Aemond is apprehensive about voicing his curiosity, uncertain of her reaction but when she answers:

"My father taught me that," her tone is surprisingly impish.

"And how did you manage to talk him into it?"

"Talking didn't help much, actually," Y/N grins. "And then I broke my brother's nose and my father decided he should find a way to guide my enthusiasm."

"How old were you?"

"Nine," she looks so satisfied with herself, Aemond can't hold back the laugh.

Y/N joins him and they fall into the comfort of each other's company. But then her smile wilts.

"There was a time when I was the youngest child and my siblings... They weren't very nice back then," she blurts out. Aemond feels his heart sinking.

"What did they do?"

"Oh, it wasn't that bad, honestly, they were only teasing. It's just um," she's looking for the right words or maybe for an acceptable explanation, but there isn't any. "It was very tiresome mostly. I could never understand the reason for them being mean."

Aemond is yet to tell her the story of him losing his eye, and the memory pops back into his head in a flash. He knows exactly what she feels, his own sense of helplessness fresh in his memory. And it still stings the same, and Aemond loathes that.

While he revisits the past, unwillingly slowing his pace, Y/N spots the change in his demeanor within seconds. She sees his facial features congealing, his fingers clenching, and she comes to the only conclusion she can make.

"Is it the headache?" her voice is suddenly quiet, and Aemond comes to an abrupt stop. The question catches him off guard, words stuck in his throat and his mouth agape. He doesn't know how to react nor does he understand how could she possibly know that. Y/N is quick to clear up his confusion:

"I noticed not long after we met and then your mother confirmed my suspicions. I am sorry that I didn't ask you directly, I thought... I didn't want to sound intrusive," she explains coyly.

"By asking about my health?" he finds his voice again. "I am to become your husband, you are free to ask such questions."

"We've only known each other for about a day back then. Surely, you're allowed to take more time than that to open up to someone," she kindly points out.

A day. Up until now the only person who's known about his pain was his mother, and for years no one else ever questioned his well-being. And it took her a day to notice that something was wrong.

"Did the ointment help?" she asks hopefully. For a second he thinks he heard her wrong but the shadow of concern on Y/N's face tells him otherwise.

"That was your doing?" he can't hide his amazement, and it elicits a laugh from her, sonorous and dulcet. Aemond likes the sound of it, he really does.

"I've been fortunate to obtain the knowledge required," she informs him.

"And what kind of witchcraft is it?"

"It is not," she playfully elbows him. "It was something my grandfather taught me. He used to have an ache of a similar nature. No one could understand the cause of it, and it only got worse with age. But my grandmother refused to sit idly by and one day she found a way to ease his pain," Y/N has a dreamy expression on her face but it melts into a wistful one. He guesses that both of her grandparents passed away.

"After her death, he wouldn't let anyone help him. It took me months to persuade him and eventually he let me on her secret," her smile is bittersweet. "Then he died, and I never thought the recipe would come in handy ever again."

Aemond hates seeing her wallow in sadness. He puts his palm on top of her hand in an attempt to offer some consolation. If there was a way to free her of that grief, to take at least some of it upon himself, he would've done it in a heartbeat. But his touch is enough to bring back the cheerfulness in her voice.

"I should mention that your maester did help, too, although he was reluctant at first," Y/N reveals.

"And I presume that it also took some convincing?" Aemond thinks of the maester's face that always looks like he is surrounded by imbeciles.

"I shamelessly boosted his ego," she wrinkles her nose. "Told him there was no way anyone would ever be as skilled as he is, and that my attempt was merely a gesture of goodwill."

"But I wasn't just that," Aemond cordially protests.

They already reached her chambers but he doesn't want to let go of her hand. He wants to tell her that meeting her was like taking a breath of fresh air after being held underwater, like finding a source of light in the pitch darkness of the night or feeling the warmth in the dead of winter. Aemond wants her to know that she's been a saving grace for him, but he's somehow at a loss for words, his thoughts jumbling together.

"It was way more than that and I...," never in his life had he gotten this tongue-tied and flustered. Yet she treats him with the same kindness and with no sign of prejudice, listening closely and keeping her eyes on him. Her gaze is disarming enough to make him say the first thing that comes to mind.

"I must admit, you exceeded my expectations," Aemond breathes out.

It immediately feels like the worst, the dullest choice of words possible, and he wants to sink into the ground right this second. But then he sees her natural smile, genuine and bright, blossoming on her face again.

"I am glad to be of service, my prince," she murmurs the last part, and his heart skips a bit.

He didn't register the moment Y/N came a bit closer, but she isn't shying away from shortening the distance. There's something enamoring about her trusting nature but that's not what draws him in. For the first time, he experiences an unfamiliar feeling that tightens his chest, makes his breathing rapid. His gaze slips over her face, down from her radiant eyes to her smile, framed by the lips that look as soft as freshly bloomed flowers. The feeling melts into an urge — he only needs to take a step, to lean his head forward just a bit and...

Aemond inhales deeply. He thinks they are in no rush, he thinks it would've been disrespectful and naive. He's mostly afraid to misread the situation, to scare her away.

But he wants to make his intentions clear. Aemond runs his thumb over her knuckles, brushing them one by one. And then he takes her hand to his lips, planting a kiss on it. He allows himself just this flicker of bravery before straightening up and releasing her hand. When he looks at Y/N, her gaze is directed at him already. It feels like a particular question is hanging in the air; they let it dissolve for now.

"I shall bid you goodnight," her eyes linger on him for a second before she turns away.

As Aemond watches her go, he is certain he wants them to be more than just friends.

Lucerys's name day comes in a about month, and by that time Aemond's routine has changed drastically. It might look the same: he wakes up with the sun, flies with Vhagar, he trains regularly, he spends his free time reading — except now Y/N is a part of his every activity.

She's never nosy or clingy; he's the one seeking her company at all times. She's an early riser, too, and they're always the first ones at the breakfast table: he asks her about her dreams, they make plans, they poke fun at Aegon, who is perpetually sleepy, and Y/N can effortlessly hold any other conversation with his family which only makes him ever so pleased.

She watches him train with genuine curiosity, she never looks away nor flinches, even when he gets too competitive and rough. Her attention is flattering — and it's all on him, and it feels unusual at first, but becomes empowering and he bathes in it.

When he takes her to meet Vhagar, she's terribly nervous. Aemond jokes that meeting his old dragon will pose no challenge after she handled Ser Lannister. It gives Y/N enough confidence to pat Vhagar's snout as the beast observes her calmly. Aemond assures her that the dragon will never go against his wishes. What he wants to say is that Vhagar senses how he feels about her.

They spend evenings in the library, both absorbed in reading but always sitting close by, their arms and shoulders coming into contact more often than not. He sometimes can't help but get distracted which leads to him forgetting about his book, instead secretly watching her, his glance full of adoration.

For a while, he's oblivious to how inseparable they've become until Helaena tells him one day, while Y/N is playing with Jaehaerys and Jaehaera in his sister's chambers. When Helaena mentions it ever so nonchalantly — "You two seem joined at the hip!", it startles him. But that moment doesn't turn into an awkward one — instead, Aemond realizes that he's not scared anymore.

"I will steal her away from time to time," Helaena says, as cheery as ever.

"Bold of you to assume I will let you," he chuckles, his gaze not leaving Y/N.

"I think she’ll have the last word," his sister retorts with a cunning smile.

Aemond doesn't think twice before admitting:

"She will never say no."

"My point exactly."

The Queen plans a great hunt to celebrate her secondborn son, and a feast is being held in no time. Aemond detests those pompous events yet Y/N seems too enthusiastic about the idea, and he begrudgingly agrees to participate. He doesn't want to burden her with his weighted resentment toward Luke but, as usual, she sees right through him. Y/N asks him if he has any reservations about the upcoming celebration, and that's when he decides to tell her. Aemond doesn't want her to pity him nor does he want to upset her so he keeps the story brief: he claimed the dragon, his siblings didn't like it, things escalated way too quickly and they haven't been on good terms ever since.

She heeds his every word, then bluntly asks:

"Must you really go?"

He ponders before answering with a sigh:

"It would be rude not to. I should pay my respect."

"I wish he had the courtesy to do the same for you," she frowns.

"It would be a little too late for an apology," Aemond shrugs even though her caring tone moves him deeply.

"I still think you deserve one," she says like it's the most obvious, logical thing in the world. He wonders how obvious the reddening of his cheeks is.

"I do not wish to dwell in the past when so many great things lay ahead of me," and he only means her. Having a future with her is his greatest blessing.

She bestows him with her softest smile:

"I guess we should make the best out of the situation we are in. Maybe you will have some fun hunting."

Aemond doesn't know what was her definition of fun, but his definitely doesn't involve babysitting Aegon. Yet that's what he ends up doing as they get separated from the group of hunters and his brother gets so drunk, he can barely stay in the saddle. He babbles and whines and Aemond is on the verge of praying for a miracle when the two of them finally stumble upon a boar. The younger prince catches the animal without a struggle.

"Oh, must be good to be a boar. Wild and free!" Aegon grumbles on their way back to the camp.

"I just slit his throat. I doubt you would want to switch places with him."

"I didn't say I want to switch places," he shakes his head so vigorously, he almost falls down. Aemond moves his horse closer, grabbing Aegon by the shoulder to steady him.

"Although switching places with you sounds tempting," he sneers.

"And why would you ever want that?" Aemond raised his brow questioningly.

"You've got yourself a pretty wife-to-be," Aegon chants and whistles.

"Are you asking for me to tie you to that boar? That can be arranged," Aemond deadpans.

" 'tis won't be necessary," Aegon's quick to object. "Whatever she sees in you, those qualities are not in my possession," his frown turns into a grin and he winks at his brother.

Aemond lightly chuckles:

"You'll get no argument from me."

Leaving Y/N is not an easy task for Aemond but coming back to her might be the second-best thing in the entire world. And the first one, obviously, is being with her.

When they return to the camp, he helps Aegon down, impatiently looking around, and as his eye lands on her, his breathing hitches.

She's standing next to the hunting tent, surrounded by a group of ladies, Helaena by her side and they're both laughing as his sister unsuccessfully tries to finish her sentence. Y/N has a violet in her hair, strands of it falling down her shoulders, her smile bright against the fading evening sun. She helps Helaena to articulate whatever she's talking about, the ladies around them cackling.

Aemond admires his betrothed from afar, savoring the moment.

It amuses him that her softness is a choice, that she chooses to be open-minded and kind, even though the world around her is armed to the teeth, and she does know how to fight back. And yet, that's not what motivates her. Instead, she's an image of benevolence and generosity, always understanding and forgiving, hence why people are so naturally drawn to her. And he is no exception.

Aemond gets distracted when a couple of servants approach him and he instructs them to take the boar's carcass away.

"You had a successful hunt, dear prince," when Aemond hears the question, he rolls his eye. Turning around, he sees Tyland Lannister with a smile so forged his face might crack in half.

"As usual," Aemond answers indifferently. "Never took you for a hunter."

"I cannot appreciate cruelty," Lannister forces out. "And I am afraid I will not be able to negotiate my way out of a bear's grip. So I am here merely to control my brother's primal impulses."

The mentioning of Jason makes Aemond cautious.

"Developing some self-control may be beneficial for him," the prince mutters.

Tyland goes blanch white, taking the hint.

"I was wondering if I should address the delicate issue of my brother's sympathy toward your..."

"You should not," Aemond cuts him off. "Would be better to address his manners but it's the thing you must sort out amongst yourselves," with that, he turns away to find Y/N again.

Except she isn't there.

The ladies moved closer to the tent but she and Helaena are the only ones missing. It takes him a second to realize that the women look alarmed, glancing at the tent. Or rather inside of it.

Aemond all but runs there, going over the worst scenarios in his head. When he gets in and sees Y/N in the company of Ser Lannister, he thinks he's never been angrier in his life. If Aemond was a dragon, the lord would've been burned to a pulp as of right now.

Jason keeps his distance and his face expresses nothing but regret yet it looks like it's already too late as Y/N is glaring at him with a sharp glint in her eyes. And in the next moment, she loses her temper.

"...What am I missing exactly?" she asks Jason, her voice unexpectedly loud, and it draws the attention of some nearby men. She doesn't care.

"You've been eager to win me over, but I am yet to find a single reason why would any woman find your company endearing," she takes a step toward the lord and he shrivels under the weight of her words.

"Is it the winery that your servants built for you? Is it your herd of fine horses? You talk so much about your stable, one may think your betrothed is to marry a stallion," her smile is mirthless. Aemond hears a faint groan behind his back and recognizes Tyland's scared tone.

"But what are your accomplishments?" the tent gets deadly quiet as she continues. "Do you consider your persevering courtship to be one of them? Or your harassing of my parents, my relatives and even my maids with your never-ending propositions, no matter how many times were they all rejected? Or mayhaps ambushing me in the hallway counts as an achievement for you?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Aemond sees Helaena and Aegon, both looking stunned. Pretty much everyone around him has the same expression at the sight of Y/N. He, on the other hand, has never been more proud of anyone.

Y/N looks at Jason as if she wants to bore a hole in him, her voice getting lower but harsher.

"You want to know what prince Aemond did? None of the above," Aemond feels his heart freeze at the mention of his name. She is yet to see him but when she speaks, it feels like she's seen enough.

"The man I am about to marry has been nothing but kind, respectful and loving, fulfilling my every wish, granting me the comfort of his company and his loyalty. The man with the sharpest mind and the kindest heart — both of which you're clearly lacking," Y/N casts Jason a disdainful glance. "So from where I am standing, it looks like I'm the luckiest woman in the Seven Kingdoms."

When she feels a hand on her waist, she isn't surprised and welcomes the touch with no hesitation, knowing full well who is standing beside her. She swiftly turns to Aemond, their eyes locking.

"I would like it if we left earlier, my prince."

"As you wish," Aemond wishes he could marry her right now.

Disregarding everyone's attention, he leads her out and asks the coachman to fetch their carriage. When they are away from prying eyes, her confidence wavers a little. It only fuels Aemond's ire.

"Give me just a second," he can't help himself.

Aemond goes back to the tent — and right to the Lannisters, one of them is already scolding the other. Tyland stops his lecturing when he notices Aemond, but the prince doesn't let him make a sound.

"That was the second time your brother couldn't hold his tongue," Aemond ignores Jason and walks up close to the other man. "If you care about his well-being in the slightest, make sure there will be no third time."

"Aemond, let us not make another scene. You must think how that will look like..."

Aemond stares Tyland dead in the eyes and promises:

"I will gut him like a boar. Imagine how that will look like."

Without saying another word, the prince storms off.

Y/N already got into the carriage, fidgeting with the hem of the dress as she falls deep into her thoughts.

"Ser Lannister will not bother you anymore," Aemond says, sitting next to her.

"I sure hope so," she mumbles, looking down at the wrinkled fabric.

"Y/N, whatever he said, you should not let it get to you. I do appreciate the gesture," way more than he cares to admit, "but there's no need to go through the trouble of standing up for me," Aemond barely finishes the sentence when she retorts:

"I will."

She looks at him, her eyes burning with blazing certainty.

"No one took your side when you were a kid. But I'm doing it now," she states as her palm covers his, the touch is as warming as her glance.

Aemond thinks he is the luckiest man in the Seven Kingdoms.

He runs out of luck so fast, he must've jinxed it. They are nearing the castle when the pain on the back of his head stings so unexpectedly, he winces, his eyebrows furrowing. Y/N notices it immediately and insists he should take a rest when they arrive.

"Mayhaps you have some of the ointment left?" she wonders, leading him to his chambers. Aemond rarely allows people to coddle him but he accepts her care freely. He is also aware that the near-miraculous balm that she makes is long gone because he hasn't had a headache in a while.

When Y/N finds out, she looks devastated.

"It must steep for a few hours, I can't make it right away," her enthusiasm brittles. She glances at him in a dither, mulling over something, while he lights the fireplace.

"There is another way that I know of," she slowly suggests. "But you will need to lie down."

"Quite a vulnerable position you want to put me in," Aemond lightheartedly jests but brings himself at her disposal with no second thoughts.

She sits on his bed right next to him, the bend of her hips an inch away from his arm.

"Close your eye," she asks calmly and he obliges.

Aemond senses that Y/N leans over him and he struggles not to hold his breath at the realization of how close she is. Then he feels the tips of her fingers on his face, the touch is so light and gentle, it makes him shiver. The pattern of her movements first contours his face, then goes up to his forehead, then slowly glides onto his temples. She massages them delicately in a circular motion.

"It was probably all the noise that caused this," she presumes.

"Or maybe the fact that the man makes my blood boil," Aemond says, although his anger is completely gone by now.

"He is pissed I didn't choose him," she laughs quietly.

"Choose him?" her words peak his interest. "You had a choice in the matter?"

"My father said he would hate it if I marry someone I didn't like," her thumbs are following the lines of his cheekbones, then run under his chin, then all the way up to his hairline, right next to his ears.

"May I ask what was your decision process?" Aemond selects his words very carefully. What he really wants to ask is why would anyone pick him, out of all people.

"I've heard you claimed the biggest dragon in the world at the age of ten," he can't see her smile but he can hear it. "That was impressive enough."

Aemond takes a peek at her through his lashes:

"That can't be the only thing you've heard."

"I can distinguish valuable information from pointless rumors," she notes imperturbably.

"I bet those rumors included the stories of me being the scariest man in the realm..."

Her fingers cover his mouth and he stumbles.

"I decided I would be the judge of that," Y/N says firmly.

"And what is your verdict?" he can't stop himself from asking, his pulse speeding up.

She doesn't think for a second:

"All the people who were spreading those vile tales clearly have never met you. There isn't a single bad thing I can think of when it comes to you."

Aemond shouldn't take it to heart but that's precisely where it hits, her voice cracking his shield, her eyes telling him she will never regret knowing him, caring for him. He thinks this is what true happiness is — being with someone who will choose you every time.

Her fingers graze over the strip of his eyepatch and she pauses her movement. She isn't breaking eye contact, waiting for his reaction, for his permission or refusal. Aemond gulps, helpless under her gaze, and doesn't stop her.

She picks up the leather strip slowly, as if she wants to give him a chance to change his mind. Aemond watches her, his body still, heart rate booming in his ears. Y/N removes the eyepatch and looks straight at the sapphire that gleams brightly in the warm lighting. And then she smiles.

"What do you see?" he exhales.

"Nothing scary, that's for sure," Y/N's gaze doesn't leave his face, her index finger tracing the scar, barely touching his skin.

"Nothing I don't admire," her voice is a little above a whisper.

"Nothing I wouldn't love."

His heart is beating so fast, it feels caged and ready to jump out at any second. Aemond forgets about the headache as if it never existed. In this state of bliss, he contemplates making a very emotional decision. But she makes one instead.

Y/N lowers her face closer to his and all of a sudden he feels a touch so light, it's almost like a petal brushes over his skin. It's her lips. She kisses his face — his scar — moving tenderly from the high point of his cheek to the area under the sapphire and then right above what's left of his eyelid.

When their eyes meet again, Aemond can only think of one thing.

He surges upward, his lips colliding with hers — she responds in an instant. His chest feels like it's on fire as kissing her is the most overwhelming feeling in the world, but he doesn't want to stop, ever. Her fingers gently slide down to his neck and Aemond uses his arm for support as he sits up without breaking the kiss. He then pulls her closer, one of his hands on her lower back and the other nestled under her jaw.

She softly sighs into his mouth — and it might be his new favorite sound. She tastes like berries, her lips getting more eager, fiery, addictive, and he is dizzy with joy and longing, trying to memorize each second. The pacing of the kiss grows heated and intoxicating as they melt into each other perfectly. They only part when both are out of air, their lips tingling, swollen and craving to continue.

"I must admit," she tries to catch her breath, she can't stop smiling, her hands caressing his face, "you exceeded my expectations."

Aemond laughs, cheerful and carefree, his nose bumping into hers.

"It's all about teamwork, as I've heard," he plants a quick peck on the corner of her mouth — and on the other one. And then they're kissing again, desperately drawn to each other. He's lost in the sound of her voice, in the feeling of her lips on his.

His love for her is all-consuming. Her love for him is healing.

Turns out, letting her in doesn't make him lose. With her by his side, he always feels like a winner.

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

> the title is a quote from Hozier's song

>> I originally took inspiration from this post that lists the possible consequences of losing an eye. I also can't help but mention the extensive research that @ adderess did, which only adds to that heartbreaking yet very realistic concept.

>>> I have a playlist for Aemond 🎵 I didn't add any music in this fic BUT I've listened to "Mr Sandman" a lot, especially the instrumental version (I didn't mention it earlier in case you don't like listening to music while reading). 💕 my masterlist

2K notes · View notes