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1800-fight-me · 8 days ago

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Safety in Your Arms

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader Rating: M (Mature but as always-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) Warnings: Cursing, threats of violence, stranger danger i.e. stalking but don't worry Logan saves the day Word count: A bit over 2k Synopsis: Logan protects you from the unwanted advances of another man and shows protectiveness and care you didn't know he had for you. Author’s note: I'm thinking this might need a part two, let me know what y'all think- I hope you enjoy! P.S. I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Comments and reblogs make my day! Logan Howlett Masterlist Main Masterlist

There was a cold panic that shot down your spine. Fight or flight, you’d learned the technical term, but now experienced it for yourself.

The five minute walk between your work and your apartment had never felt so long. It all started with a creepy customer- which was a regular occurrence at your job- but this customer took it far beyond creepy.

He tried to make too much small talk, stared too much, made a few too many over the line comments, and was entirely too pushy when asking for your phone number. Your one male coworker escorted him out and you thought that was the end of it.

Hours went by, you assured your coworkers multiple times that you were fine and you were safe, and eventually you were the last one left to close and lock up.

But only one block away from your workplace, you had the feeling of being watched- of being followed. And it was just your luck that your phone was dead and you’d forgotten your charger at home.

You changed your route, taking one that was a bit longer but also more well lit and populated. With a glance back you confirmed your worry, that it was in fact the same creepy guy from hours before.

Your heart pounded with terror as you contemplated every option for safety. Your apartment building required a code to enter, so you sped your walk, hoping if you slipped into the building and shut the door behind you that it would be enough.

“Hey,” the man’s voice called out, but you refused to look back.

Your apartment building was within sight, but the man’s catcalls and jeers were also getting louder and closer.

“Hey, c’mere pretty lady! I’ve got somethin’ for ya!”

Your whole body shuddered in fear. Your next door neighbor stepped outside of the front door of the apartment building and you nearly sobbed in relief.

“Logan!” you called out.

He looked up in surprise, but his expression quickly turned to concern as he saw the stress in your entire demeanor.

You practically ran to him and threw your arms around his torso in a hug he clearly did not expect. He hugged you back, but you felt him stiffen as he looked behind you.

That was one thing about Logan, he was extremely perceptive and quick to notice any form of danger.

“Hey bub, what can I do for you?” he said to the man behind you in a gruff tone that was not at all welcoming as he gently maneuvered you so that you stood safely behind him.

You gripped Logan’s strong bicep as you peered around his shoulder at the stalker.

“I was just-”

“Just nothin’. You better leave her alone,” Logan interrupted.

“C’mon, I was just inviting the pretty lady to have a good time. Does he speak for you?” the creep asked as he made eye contact with you. The malice in his eyes made your heartbeat spike again.

“Yeah, he’s my boyfriend,” you said nervously.

He glanced between you and Logan as if uncertain.

“She just told you, she’s mine- so fuck off,” Logan growled. A different kind of shiver went down your spine.

“You live here?” the man asked.

“No,” Logan growled before you could even open your mouth. “But I do, and if I see you around here again it’ll be a problem.”

The man looked at Logan and finally seemed to take in the gravity of the situation, the danger that the large muscled man protecting you could pose.

He gulped and nodded, yielded a step back as Logan took a step forward- muscles tense and fist clenched.

The man turned and scurried away. You took your first full deep breath in several long minutes.

Logan watched the man until he was completely out of view before he turned to you. He placed a large comforting hand on your shoulder and you looked up at him with tears in your eyes.

“Princess,” he said in a gentle voice.

He pulled you into a hug as a tear fell from your eye and made its way down your cheek. You were enveloped in his warmth and woodsy masculine scent and finally felt safe.

“Thanks for pretending to be my boyfriend,” you said as you pulled back and wiped the tears from your eyes.

“Anytime,” he said with a smirk. Your breath caught and you bit your lip as you looked up at him and saw such care and concern on his handsome face.

“Who was that guy?” he asked.

You shrugged, “Some crazy customer from earlier today, my coworker made him leave, but I guess he came back and waited until I was leaving alone….”

Logan’s brow furrowed and he gritted his teeth. “That motherfucker,” he growled, “I’m walking you to and from work tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to-”

“No, I do. And I’ll do it until I’m sure he isn’t gonna bother you anymore. And if he shows up again…” he trailed off as his claws extended from his fist in an action that seemed involuntary due to his rage.

A shiver ran down your spine. You had no idea Logan felt so protective over you.

“Thank you,” you said in a soft voice, “I appreciate it.”

This was not helping your ridiculous crush on your neighbor. From the minute he moved in with your friend Wade, you had heart eyes for him.

The Wolverine, he took your breath away without even trying. With his large stature, huge muscles, and handsome face- you were a goner. It didn’t matter that he was older, way out of your league, and generally altogether grumpy. You were head over heels for him, and you were certain he had never noticed you before, that he merely thought you were Wade’s annoying friend.

But you adored him, you adored the gentle heart you knew he buried under that gruff exterior, and displays of protectiveness such as this only proved what an amazing person you already knew he was.

“I’m headed to meet Wade at the bar, d’you wanna come?” he offered.

You nodded eagerly, not wanting to be alone after the stress of the day.

“Lead the way,” you said with a smile.

—--------

“Look who I brought,” Logan said as you walked behind him into the bar and approached a booth in the back corner.

He stepped to the side so your friends could see you. Wade, Vanessa, and Dopinder sat at the table, already laughing and drinking beer.

Wade gasped dramatically and exclaimed, “Princess Cupcake!”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your lips betrayed you and showed your amusement.

“Hey Wade,” you replied then greeted the others.

“What? No comeback? I’m hurt! What’s wrong?” he asked, speaking in that way too fast pattern that was his norm.

Logan placed a hand on your back and leaned down closer to your ear as he asked quietly, “You wanna sit down? I can get you a drink- what do you want?”

You smiled and sat down as you were told and told him your drink order.

Wade wiggled his non-existent eyebrows at you in a rather suggestive manner.

“What’s up between you and peanut? Did you finally fu-”

“No,” you interjected quickly.

“Wade, she’s clearly upset and Logan is helping her,” Vanessa said as she elbowed her boyfriend.

You sighed and explained the events of your afternoon. During your explanation Logan came back to the table with two drinks and sat next to you. His large form crowded you into the corner of the booth, but you didn’t mind.

“That motherfucker,” Wade said in anger at the end of your story. Vanessa gave you a look of solidarity, you knew she had experienced plenty of creepy men in her life.

“That’s what I said,” Logan replied, clearly somewhat amused.

“We should kill him,” Dopinder said.

“Calm down wannabe-vigilante,” you muttered which caused everyone to chuckle.

“Don’t worry cupcake, ole honey badger and I will make sure you’re safe,” Wade reassured.

You nodded and said, “I appreciate it, but I don’t think he’ll return. Logan can be pretty intimidating, it was amazing - I’m sure he scared him off.”

Logan grunted in agreement, although when you looked at him you could’ve sworn there was a tint of pink on his cheeks and the tops of his ears.

As the evening stretched on, you were thoroughly distracted from your troubles and amused by Wade’s antics and Dopinder’s stories.

“So, Princess Cupcake, any luck on the dating front?” Wade asked.

You tugged at the sleeves of your shirt- a nervous habit, and without looking up from the table said, “Nope.”

Logan let out a soft sigh of what your aching heart could only hope was relief.

“I’ve never asked, what’s with the nickname?” Dopinder asked.

You shrugged and gestured to Wade.

“When Blind Al and I moved into our apartment this sweetie pie here brought us cupcakes!” Wade explained.

“Good thing it was cupcakes instead of a pie because being constantly called sweetie pie would make me want to die,” you muttered and everyone laughed.

“What about the princess part though?” Dopinder asked.

“Just look at her,” Logan mumbled and you and everyone at the table looked over at him in surprise.

“She’s got that innocent sort of pretty you only see in big bright eyed animated Disney princesses,” Wade said.

Embarrassed at the attention you changed the subject immediately. Your constant filthy thoughts about Logan proved you were anything but innocent.

“But why is Logan’s nickname peanut?” you asked quickly.

Wade shrugged, “Just fits.”

Logan rolled his eyes.

You smirked and said, “I bet we could come up with a hundred nicknames for him that would fit better.”

“Like what?” Wade challenged.

You glanced over at the large handsome man sitting next to you as your face warmed.

Daddy was the first word that came to mind. Wade chuckled in a way that made you momentarily worried that mind reading was one of his mutant abilities.

The silence at the table stretched on, becoming a tad awkward, before you said, “Nevermind I’m not very good with nicknames anyways.”

“Yeah, it’s probably best to leave choosing nicknames to the professional,” Vanessa said in a joking tone to ease the tension. You shot her a look of gratitude and she winked at you before she effectively changed the subject all together.

Eventually, after enough drinks and conversation, you declared that it was time for you to go home.

“C’mon!” Wade protested. “The night has just begun!”

“I wish I could stay but I’ve got work in the morning.”

“I’ll walk you home,” Logan said in a soft but firm tone that left no room for argument as he stood and took a step back to give you room to get out of the booth.

You nodded in agreement and smiled in pleasant surprise as he offered you his arm. You wrapped your arm around his large bicep and linked your elbows as you followed him out into the cold winter air.

The city glowed in warm orange light that reflected on the wet pavement. Your breath was visible in frostbitten wind, and you shivered slightly which caused you to burrow further into your coat and move closer to Logan and the heat his body provided.

He then pulled his arm from yours, causing you to momentarily panic, but just as swiftly he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

You smiled and filled the short walk with endless chatter, you used to worry that your yapping irritated him, but the small uptick of his lips- the ghost of a smile- showed fond amusement and filled you with warmth enough to make you forget about the cold.

“What time do you leave for work in the morning?” Logan asked as you reached the door of your apartment- his apartment door only a few steps away.

“Eight o’clock,” you replied as you unlocked the door.

“But really, you don’t have to-”

“I’ll see you then,” he interrupted in a tone that indicated you would not win this argument.

Then he did something you didn’t expect at all, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to your forehead.

You grinned, your smile wider than probably ever before as you said, “Goodnight Logan, see you bright and bleary eyed tomorrow.”

He chuckled as he bid you goodnight and you walked into your apartment and shut the door only after he smiled at you again before disappearing behind his own door.

You shut your door and locked it before leaning against it. You muffled your squeal of excitement with your hand- all too aware how thin the walls are. The stressful events of the day completely forgotten.

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett fluff #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #logan wolverine #logan x reader

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zaczenemiji · 6 months ago

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Hi there! It's me...again. Hope your doing okay.

I was thinking about a new request about Kenji Sato x Fem! Reader based on the song "Please, Please, Please" from Sabrina Carpenter. Reader is a singer just like her so and has a relationship with Ken but she thinks that some things aren't doing good, but she also has him wrapped around her finger. Like the part with "I beg you, don't embarrass me, mother******". It can be angst but also fluffy and spice (Only if you want to but no smut) It can end in a happy ending.

The rest is up to you because I know you'll do a great job. No need to rush so take your time.

Don’t Prove ‘Em Right

Kenji Sato x Singer!Reader

Word Count: 1,358

Genre/Warnings: Angst (light), Character Development, Drama, Emotional, Redemption

Author’s Note: I went with a bit of angst 🤧

MASTERLIST

“You could do better.”

This was one thing you’ve always heard since you started dating men as a singer. Throughout your career, you were either cheated on, abandoned, or used in a way that they just rode your fame.

Other times, fans would ship you with another singer or celebrity or whoever famous and you’d give it a try for them but the ending is the always same: you two were just pretending for public entertainment and there was never love at all.

Your perception of love blurred the longer you got in the singing industry. You sang about it, wrote songs about it, but you’ve never really experienced it for a significant amount of time or for a significant depth.

That was until you met Kenji.

Despite his fame, he seemed down-to-earth and genuinely interested in getting to know you. He took you to his baseball games and introduced you to his teammates. In return, you invited him to your recording sessions.

Kenji was always supportive, and always encouraging. He seemed genuinely proud of your achievements and was always there for you. Despite his busy schedule, he shows up at your gigs and concerts and cheers you on from the front row.

He had a way of making you feel special like you were the most important person in his world. It was easy to overlook the occasional outbursts, the moments of impulsiveness that seemed to come with his fiery temperament.

You told yourself that everyone had flaws, and Kenji's good qualities far outweighed his bad ones.

You believed in him and in the future you could build together. Despite the red lights and the stop signs, you held on to the belief that this time, this love was right.

But as time went on, the cracks in Kenji's facade began to show. His temper flared more frequently, and his impulsive decisions started to take a toll on your relationship.

You made excuses for him and justified his actions to your friends and family. You told them he’s different.

But they told you that with the way he’s behaving, you’ll just end up in the dumps again—that he’s going to cheat on you, hurt you, leave you, and the ending will be the same…

“You could do better.”

Heartbreak is one thing, but your ego is another. You couldn’t afford your name dominating the headlines again. And for what reason? Another breakup.

You loved him deeply, but the constant cycle of highs and lows was exhausting. You wanted to believe that he could change, that he could be the man you fell in love with.

But the more you tried to fix things, the more you realized that some things were beyond your control.

You sat in front of your vanity doing your makeup nicely. You glanced at the clock. Kenji would be here any minute to pick you up now. Tonight is your big night. It’s an afterparty to celebrate the release of your new single.

Your boyfriend had a reputation for causing a scene. It wasn't entirely his fault—he was passionate but it sometimes translated into impulsiveness. Tonight, of all nights, you needed him to be on his best behavior.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Kenji stood there, looking dashing in a tailored suit, a grin spreading across his face as he saw you.

"Wow, you look stunning," he said, pulling you in for a quick kiss.

"Thanks," you replied, forcing a smile. "You sure you wanna come?"

"Of course," he replied with a confidence that both reassured and worried you. “I’m always here for you.”

You arrived at the venue in no time. Celebrities, reporters, and fans filled the room, all eager to celebrate your success. You and Kenji mingled with the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and accepting congratulations.

But as the night went on, Kenji's behavior started to shift. The drinks were flowing, and while you had stuck to soda water, Kenji had not.

You watched with growing anxiety as he laughed a little too loudly, and gestured a little too wildly. The conversations around you started to feel like a backdrop to a ticking time bomb.

You pulled him aside. "Kenji, please," you whispered urgently. "Just... take it easy, okay?"

He frowned, a mix of confusion and irritation crossing his features. "What? I'm just having a good time."

"I know," you said, forcing another smile. “Just... for me, okay?"

He sighed but nodded and for a while, it seemed like he was keeping his promise. He stuck by your side, an arm around your waist, engaging in polite conversation with your friends and family.

However, you left him one moment and then the next, he was talking to one of the reporters. The latter walked away, a smirk on his face. Kenji turned to you, his face flushed with anger.

"Can you believe that guy?" he spat. "He had the nerve to ask about the last game. Said I sucked."

"Kenji," you said softly, trying to calm him down. You placed your hand on his chest. "It's not worth it."

"But—"

"Please, Kenji. Just... let it go."

He looked at you, the anger in his eyes slowly fading. He took a deep breath and nodded. "For you," he said quietly.

But the reprieve was short-lived. You caught sight of him at the bar, raising his voice at someone who had apparently made a snide comment.

The situation escalated quickly, and before you knew it, Kenji had thrown a punch, causing a commotion that drew everyone's attention.

Your heart sank as security rushed in to break up the fight. You could feel all eyes on you, whispers spreading through the crowd.

You felt a sense of dejà vu as this wasn't the first time Kenji let his emotions get the best of him, and you were able to hold it together as you’ve always done, but then you heard the one thing you hated.

“She could’ve done better.”

Without a word, you grabbed your things and stormed out of the venue, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over.

Not long after, Kenji arrived at your house, disheveled and remorseful. "(Y/n), I'm so sorry," he began, reaching out to you. "I didn't mean to ruin everything."

You stepped back, keeping a distance between you. "Kenji, this can't keep happening. You promised me you would behave tonight!” You said in between sobs. “This was supposed to be my night, and you turned it into a disaster.”

You sat on your couch, your legs feeling too tired to keep you up. "I can't keep making excuses for you,” you continued. “I can't keep sacrificing my career for your mistakes."

Kenji fell silent, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He’s scared. He knew what those words meant. At that moment, he felt like the sky was crashing on him.

"I don't want to lose you, (y/n)," he said quietly, tears falling down. "I love you, and I know I've been screwing up. But I'm willing to do everything to make things right. Therapy, anger management, whatever it takes."

You stared at him, your heart aching with a mix of love and doubt. "Kenji, this isn't just about tonight,” you said. “This has been happening for a while now.“

“Please, (y/n),” he begged, his voice trembling as he knelt in front of you, embracing your legs as he rested his head on your lap. “I want to be the man you deserve. Please, give me one more chance."

Over the next few weeks, Kenji followed through on his promise. He made genuine efforts to address his issues.

He went out of his way to apologize to your friends and family for his behavior at the party, taking full responsibility for his actions.

Slowly but surely, he’s coming back to being the man you fell in love with. He made sure you wouldn’t be the one doing better because he was becoming better himself.

One afternoon, you had lunch with your friends. They asked about how things are now going between you and Kenji. You gave them a smile, a genuine one since after the party.

“He became better.”

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@flowerloves @eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan @reggies-eyeliner @buggs-1 @miffysoo @spencerrxids @stupidbutsmart @marimargirlies @mixvchelle

#kenji sato x reader #kenji sato #ken sato x reader #ken sato #ultraman #ultraman: rising #fanfiction #oneshot #light angst

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shanastoryteller · 2 months ago

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i know spn hates good writing and also sam, but the dumpster fire of s4 really could have been salvaged if they'd just played ruby and castiel straight

by which i mean

ruby should have been one of the good guys (honestly it feels like the writers changed their minds last second regarding her anyway)

castiel should have been the villain (which, let's be clear, he totally was)

the point of this is that it would force dean to confront his own bullshit and maybe figure himself out, which not only would have been good television but would have been satisfying to me, personally

sam's problem is that he wants there to be a good equal to every evil. that he believes goodness exists even where it doesn't, that he always wants to give things a chance, that he always has hope. they sound like good traits, up until they're used against him. they reach the station of angels are bad eventually, but it should have been more immediate and visceral, that there is no greater good here. sam should have had this knocked out of him, which would have shattered him in way, to lose this thing he's depended on his whole life, but it really would have hammered home that it's choices that really do matter, not circumstances

dean's problem is always that he sees monsters as monsters with no grey area, that sam always has to play his moral center the second anything becomes complicated. then he goes to hell, breaks, tortures innocents, and an angel yanks him out and tells him that he's a righteous man

dean desperately desperately wants this to be true

because it's sam who they had to look out for, sam who was destined to go darkside, sam with the demon blood

dean doesn't have that excuse

he's just a human man with a hunger for violence who never learned to curb his appetite. who was instead pushed to gorging himself on it, who is left broken and desperate and angry by what he did to save himself. his whole life, his whole self perception for thirty years, was about protecting innocents. then he betrays that in hell. do you think he kept count? how many innocents he destroyed against how many he saved? the day it equaled out, do you think he wished he could weep?

dean is so unbelievably messed up by hell. not the torture he endured, that's barely a blip, but the torture he inflicted is what haunts him

so he needs for sam to be the bad guy

he's using his powers, he's hanging out with demons, he's drinking demon blood. he's the monster. he's inhuman

(he's using his powers and hanging out with demons and drinking demon blood and still he's doing less harm than dean, still he's trying to save people. dean can't accept this, because he can't be the rotten one. he'll forgive sam anything, but never himself, so it has to be sam. because he can fix sam, he'll always love his brother, so if he's evil there's stil a path forward there. but if it's dean? if he's the one going evil? sam's left him before. why would he stay now? if dean is the one going darkside then he loses everything. himself. his brother. it has to be sam)

dean is projecting all his own shit onto sam because he can't deal with any of it, which is why he treats sam like shit, why he treats him in a way that he's never treated him before. it's how he treats himself. and sam has no idea what to do with this, is left reeling and hurt and broken himself by dean doing this to him. sam never thought dean would leave him to die in the panic room, because dean wouldn't, not the dean he's known his whole life, not the dean that loves him. not alone.

but dean would do that to himself. and since sam is his proxy for himself, it's what he does to sam, but sam doesn't know that so all he feels is the weight of betrayal and grief and rage

isn't it funny, almost? the demons brought sam back just as he was, exactly the same. the angels bring back dean but he's not the same. dean comes back wrong, comes back different. but no one wants to say that. to deal with it

having ruby be evil and castiel venerated justifies all of dean's spiraling, all of his punishment. he was right all along, sam was the problem, don't you see?

boring

ruby stays loyal to sam, a demon who chooses something different, who chooses the boy with the demon blood because there's something compelling about sam winchester, as tempting as the apple before eve, and ruby didn't get where she is by knowing better

(remember when sam pulled all the psychic kids together, acted as leader, and resisted azazel? there is a leader in sam, a compassion in him, that azazel had to cheat in order to beat. and if ruby can show him how to win against demons then-)

castiel let sam out of the panic room. he's following orders, because that's his job, and damn the consequences. this should have been seen as the act of betrayal and evil that it was, castiel proving he was never really on their side at all, never on the side of preventing harm. it also would have made his redemption arc mean something, it would have given castiel a lot more to work with if they'd had to really bring him back over

ruby realizes too late what killing lilith means. tries to stop sam, but now that she's here it's too late, kill or be killed. sam accepts that, is willing to die rather than start the apocalypse. but then dean is there, and he can't watch his brother die again, he just can't. so he kills lilith to save dean, when he would have been willing to die himself

ruby gets them out of there. they discover what castiel did, that he pushed forward the apocalypse rather than prevented it

this breaks dean. he finally snaps, but it's good, because everything he'd used to shore himself up before had been terrible and rotted and corrosive

a righteous man is not a good man. dean is forced to confront everything he's done in hell, and after he'd gotten back, everything he put sam through, how he left him in that panic room and almost killed him, how he's treated him for the past year. how it was a demon who tried to help in the end and an angel that damned them

and how sam saved him anyway, damn the consequences

we should have returned to what the show had been building up to from the beginning - that sam loves his brother enough to do terrible things and dean has no idea how to deal with that

so we've got sam and dean on the run with ruby, castiel's slower and much juicier redemption arc, and dean having to pick up the pieces of himself while sam tries to figure out how he gets them out this mess. and sam's guilt is justified here, his aching sense of responsibility, because this time he kills lilith knowing it'll free lucifer. he makes that choice, for dean. and he's determined to fix it

just. demon blood tainted sam and turncoat ruby trying to save the world. the angels trying to end it. all while dean finally accepts the crushing guilt of what he's done and starts to work through it, starts to work on becoming the brother sam lost, on once more being the steady thing sam can hold onto no matter what it takes, because sam choosing him reminds him of something he'd told himself he forgot

he doesn't want to be a righteous man, a torturer, a demon, a victim, a martyr

he just wants to be sam's brother. the one he looks up to, depends on, loves

he wants what he's always wanted

to feel worthy of his little brother's affection

#i have a lot of feelings about how s4 tried and failed to make everything sam's fault #sorry you've spent so long establishing the inherent goodness of this character that now the whole 'maybe he's evil' thing is just cringey #also dean i'm so sorry with what they did to you #you deserved better #supernatural

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sorchathered · 7 months ago

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It would’ve been you

Pairing- Bob Floyd x female reader

Summary- you’d finally admitted your feelings to Bob, the only problem? He doesn’t remember any of it, and now he’s got a new girlfriend.

Warnings- angst, a little bit of smut, Bob being a dummy, reader also being a dummy.

A/N- Hey babies! Let’s celebrate me finally getting back to the states with a new fic I wrote (one of three) on my 14 hour flight last night, not beta read, fuck it we ball. 😂😂

———————————————————————

Bob’s new girlfriend was awful.

No really she was. Natasha had been sending you emails for weeks about how bad things had become, and until you’d stepped back on shore you had scarcely believed it yourself.

It had been twelve weeks since you left for your special detachment. Twelve weeks since you drunkenly fell into bed with your best friend Robert Floyd.

You’d had a party at you and your roommate Natasha’s, sort of a “good luck hope you don’t die” drunk fest as your front seater Jake Seresin liked to call it. Too many drinks were had and inhibitions were pretty much non existent by the end of the night, Bob offering to help you clean up which resulted in drunken confessions of love and hands roaming bodies until the early morning hours.

It has been perfect, messy, but perfect. You’d scarcely hoped he felt the same and had been holding a candle for him for an embarrassingly long time. When you woke that morning you were in a lavender haze of ooey gooey feels, sneaking out of your room to shower and pack your things as you thought about what might be in the future for the two of you when you made it back from the mission.

But when Bob woke up with the hangover of the century and didn’t remember a single bit of the night before? Everything went to shit. You were too embarrassed to tell him the truth, if he didn’t remember then maybe it didn’t mean what you thought it had meant, and maybe he hadn’t been ready to cross that line with you after all. So you bottled it all up, pushing forward with the mission and kept contact to a minimum. He never said it but he knew something was off, you never missed an email when he wrote and lately you’d all but ignored him entirely.

About 6 weeks into your deployment, Nat hit you with a bomb you never expected- Bob had started seeing someone. You let it all out in your bunk, cried until your tears could have floated the carrier you were on and then some. You should have said something, you knew that now, and it was too little too late.

When you made it back Nat was bursting at the seams to give you all the gossip, you weren’t ready to hear it but she was quite literally bouncing on her toes to give you the tea so you settled in after a shower and let her blab.

“She’s awful y/n!!! Some wannabe instagram influencer who is on her phone constantly and oh my god she is rude!! She puts on this sweet little angel vibe for Bob but as soon as he leaves the room she’s like Cruella de Vil with blonde hair. I’m totally convinced she only wants to be with him for the military girlfriend vibes, she posts all these pictures of them together and tags them with little stupid hashtags about how she’s a military girlfriend and blah blah blah.” She says with a scowl as she pretends to fake wretch and you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Is he happy with her?” You ask quietly, too afraid to look in her eyes, she’s too perceptive for her own good though; she’s known something changed between the two of you but hadn’t been able to place it.

“Honestly? He looks miserable, he hasn’t seemed like himself since you blew out of the house the morning of your deployment without so much as a goodbye. I don’t know what happened and I won’t ask, but I think you two need to talk. He misses you.” She took your hand in hers and gave you a kind smile, she was a bulldog in her field but she was the kindest soul you’d ever met. “I miss him too Natty, I really do.”

Bob had really liked Lauren in the beginning, she seemed like such a sweet girl, her socials full of pictures of her rescuing dogs and going on adventures, he could really see a future for them. But then she started only wanting to hang out when he was at the bar with his navy friends, always on her phone posting pictures of him in uniform, and bragging on her tiktok about being a Navy pilot’s girlfriend when that wasn’t even really what he did and she never seemed to listen enough to actually care about getting to know him for who he was. It had become exhausting, and he couldn’t talk to the person he wanted to the most because it felt like you’d completely ghosted him over the past few weeks. Bob was at a loss, he didn’t know what had changed between the two of you but as soon as Natasha announced to the group chat everyone was going to dinner to celebrate you and Hangman making it home he only had one thing on his mind- corner you and find out what the hell he’d done to piss you off.

When he got to the Hard Deck that night everyone was already in full party mode, drinks and pizzas littered the back wall of the bar as everyone danced along to Rooster’s rendition of “Benny and the Jets” on the piano, you perched right by his side singing the harmony and bursting into giggles as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. You were breathtaking, you always had been to Bob but he’d never had the courage to tell you how he felt, always burying it when the feelings bubbled up in his chest. He was glad he hadn’t brought Lauren with him, he couldn’t clear the air between the two of you with her around, and honestly he was still wondering if he even wanted to continue a relationship with her in the first place. He would unpack all of that later, the song had ended and you’d noticed he was staring at you, your skin flushing bright red at his gaze.

You knew he’d be here, but even after weeks away you weren’t sure you were ready to face him. Did he remember what happened? Did it change anything? It certainly had to you, how could it not? You’d admitted your deepest feelings for him and then had the best sex of your life, only for him to completely forget it ever happened. It was devastating, but there wasn’t any way to avoid him so better to just rip the bandaid off now and get it over with. You sat your empty beer down on a nearby table and made your way to where he was perched at the bar, ginger ale and peanuts occupying his hands as he looked you over with a nervous smile.

“Hey.” Oh god really? Hey? That’s all you could come up with? You cringed internally at the waver in your tone, you can be held responsible for millions of dollars of military tech but Bob Floyd is somehow the Achilles heel in your confidence? Jesus.

“Hi” he said softly and smiled back at you, “we’ve missed you around here, you didn’t answer any of my letters and I was starting to get worried about ya.” He fiddled with the top of the plastic cup holding the peanuts and tried to look anywhere but in your eyes, this was already the most awkward conversation he’d ever had and that was saying something for him.

“Look, Bob I don’t want to prolong this but I get it ok? We all do stupid things when we’re drunk and I won’t hold it against you. I heard you have a new girlfriend and I’ll respect that, I just…I need some time. I meant every word of what I said to you that night and if you just said it back to be kind-“

“Whoa hold on a minute, what are you talking about honey?” He thrust a hand out to catch yours and watched horror cross your face, what the hell had he done?!

“Oh-oh my god. You still don’t remember. Fuck, I- I’m sorry Bob I can’t do this right now.” You all but ran from him towards the back door and out into the night, you were fairly certain you were going to throw up or pass out. Maybe both.

Bob’s head was swimming, he stood up to follow you and had a moment flash behind his eyes. You beneath him, arms around his neck as the two of you ground into each other in your bed. He’d thought that had been a dream…it had been…right? The more he tried to think of it the more the memories came back, watching you come undone beneath him as you cried out your love for him, his hands tangled in your hair as he made the same confession. Natasha came up behind his rigid form to press a hand to his shoulder and he jerked back with a gasp, deep blue eyes wild and filled with panic. “Hey, whoah! Easy Bob, what’s going on?” She put both hands on his biceps as if to steady him but it couldn’t stop the room from spinning.

I-I’ve gotta get outta here Phoenix, did you see where y/n went? I royally screwed things up I have to see if I can fix it before it’s too late.”

She pointed towards the back door and he was bolting for it before she could say anything else, he couldn’t believe how much of a fool he’d been.

You were crouched in the sand a hundred feet or so from the bar, gasping in deep breaths as tears clouded your vision, head in your hands and body shaking. You should have just said something the morning after it happened, why didn’t you just tell him then? He still didn’t remember and if he didn’t remember then it must’ve not meant anything to him, now he was with someone else and your chance had all but evaporated. Had you completely lost him now? You didn’t know if you could bear not having him in your life, even if he wasn’t in love with you, losing your closest friend would be too much to bear.

“Y/n?” You heard him say softly behind you, he had always had an uncanny ability to sneak up on people and you supposed you should’ve known he’d come. He was the kindest person you knew, even if something made him uncomfortable he still worried about others. Selfless.

You swiped the tears away as best as you could before you stood and looked at him but it was no use, the second you locked eyes the tears were back.

“Robby, fuck I’m so sorry. I should’ve brought it up the morning after it happened but I-“

“I didn’t remember. And you thought it best to leave it be.”

“Y-yes” you said shakily, and you saw anger flash across his handsome features, a look you weren’t used to seeing from your beloved WSO.

“Damnit y/n! All that time wasted! If-if I’d’ve just known-“ he was shaking his head in frustration and you realized with a shock that he may not have remembered- but he meant what he said.

“Wait- wait, are you saying you meant it?” You said with a whisper, Bob looking at you incredulously like you’d grown three heads or something ridiculous.

“Is that what you’re worried about? That I didn’t… Jesus of course I meant it! How could I not? I think I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you and I feel cheated now! I’ve had you in my arms, kissed you, made love to you and I don’t remember it, but the worst part is knowing that you kept this from me. We could’ve been together this whole time! I’ve been pissing my time away with a girl who couldn’t give a rats ass about me and you’ve been right here all along.”

You were so sure he’d said it in a drunken mistake, braced for the worst that it wasn’t registering that he was telling you everything you wanted to hear, tears still spilling from your eyes as you blinked up at him, and a sound of frustration escaped his mouth as he yanked you into his arms, pressing kisses to your forehead and cheeks, and you melted into him as it finally settled in that this was real.

He took your face in his hands as he tipped your head up to look at him, swiping the tears away with his thumbs while you tried to bring yourself back down from the meltdown.

“Damnit girl it’s always been you, I don’t know how you could’ve thought otherwise.”

You laughed out at your stupidity and leaned up into him as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Now listen, I want to do this right, so before I let myself drown in you like I want I have something I need to do. Stay right here, wait for me.” He kissed you again and released you, already missing his warmth you let out a whine.

He chuckled and swiped a loose curl behind your ear, “in order to make love to you like I want, I have to speak to Lauren. I want a clean slate for us baby, give me a few minutes and I promise after this I’m yours until you’re sick of me.”

“Never gonna happen” you said with a grin and he mirrored you with a brilliant smile of his own.

He had a renewed confidence he hadn’t felt in months as he made his way back inside to get his phone, passing Hangman by the dart board with his arm braced against the wall and a very familiar blonde haired woman shamelessly flirting with him.

Doing a double take he confirmed with a laugh that is was in fact his girlfriend trying to shoot her shot with Jake Seresin and oddly enough it didn’t even surprise him.

“Hey Seresin, glad to see your back.” He said with a smack on the golden haired aviators back, Jake cocking his head to the side with a smirk.

“Baby on Board! Good to see ya, glad to be back home. This is- uhh I’m sorry sugar I don’t know that I got your name” he said gesturing towards the girl and she looked at Bob like a deer in headlights.

“Lauren, her name is Lauren. By the way, whatever was going on with you and me? It’s over sweet pea. I think you two will be very happy together, you like TikTok right Hangman? She’s real big into all that influencer shit. Anyways, you two have a good night, I’ve got somewhere else to be.” He said as he walked off winking at Natasha as she cackled from her perch near the group.

He bounded out into the sand to find you right where he let you, lighter than air as he looped an arm around your waist and pulled you in to kiss you like he’d wanted. You gasped into his mouth as he nipped at your bottom lip and slid his tongue into your mouth to taste you. It was perfect, all your little sweet noises as you grasped at his collar and rubbed your body against his.

“Robby” you gasped out as his lips drifted down your jaw and to your neck and he felt lightheaded over all of it. “What’s on your mind baby” he said as he smiled against your skin and you shivered in his arms. “Take me home? I think- I think we need a do over. Want you so bad.” He couldn’t think of anything better, tossing you over his shoulders as you shrieked and giggled he carried you to the parking lot and placed you gently in the passenger seat of his old beat up truck.

“Let’s get you home sugar, we’ve got a lot of time to make up for, hope you weren’t planning on sleepin’ tonight, I don’t know that I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself.”

You all but crawled into his lap in the bench seat as you ran your hands through his sandy blonde hair,

“I love you. Don’t you dare keep your hands to yourself, want you to love on me until we can’t move anymore, take me home and make me yours.”

And he did. Six months later when he put a ring on your finger it was a surprise to absolutely no one, he’d always pick on you for hiding the truth and you’d never let him live it down that he had forgotten making love to you in the first place. It seemed so silly now looking back on it, knowing you two were meant to be. He’d always been the one, and now he always would be.

———————————————————————

🏷️ tagging people who might be interested- @attapullman @bobfloydsbabe @bobgasm @roosterforme @seitmai @jessicab1991 @sebsxphia @fandom-princess-forevermore @nerdgirljen @lenafromthenordiccoven @sio-ina-bottle @sunsetsimpsblog @auroralightsthesky

If I missed anyone I’m sorry I’m running on three hours of sleep 😭

#top gun maverick #bob floyd #top gun maverick fanfiction #robert floyd #robert bob floyd #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd smut

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theriverbeyond · 7 months ago

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Ok so a part of the NtN epilogue that has always bugged me is how Alecto very specifically doesn't know who Harrow is until she bites kisses her and tastes her blood

Which on its own wouldn't necessarily mean much, except that Harrow is shown repeatedly to look almost exactly like Anastasia, and Alecto-in-her-aspect-as-Nona is shown to be very observant and aware of physical features. It's not, like, a vision issue, after waking up Alecto immediately recognizes Pyrrha, and knows the general features of Harrow i.e. "black-eyed infant". And in her aspect as Nona, she is keenly observant of physical features. She waxes poetic about all the little ways Honesty and Pyrrha's red hair differs from Kiriona's, and more than that, she immediately recognizes Kiriona's corpse as the girl from her dream. So why doesn't she recognize Harrow?

The other Lyctors recognize Harrow. The first thing Augustine says upon meeting her is: "Harrowhark the First—ninth saint, then, looking at you I can tell that’s appropriate", and then in the same scene he calls her "Anastasia come again." Mercymorn insults her ("You're not as pretty as Anastasia") but in that insult, she again emphasizes the physical similarity between Harrow and Anastasia. These statements are way more significant when you remember in this scene, Harrow has just woken up after travel through the River, and is still wearing a hospital gown. no black vestments, no Ninth Aesthetics, the only things really "Ninth" about her are her physical features.

And the first thing Alecto does after she realizes that Harrow is Anastasia's blood is to apologize about Samael and reiterate her "vow", which she specifically did not remember until after she remembered Anastasia.

So like. What does this mean? I cannot help but have a feeling that this relates to blood wards being broken by the blood of a relative, the Ninth House being the House of the Sewn Tongue, and the established fact that necromancy can fuck with memory and perception. I guess I had always assumed the original "sewn tongue" referred to Anastasia but like what if it referred to Alecto? And the established blood ward (the Tomb) could only be spoofed by a close relative (because John wouldn't program it to let anyone but himself in), but theoretically what is stopping Anastasia from whipping up a theorem for a blood ward that simply requires any kind of direct genetic link? Why would Alecto have forgotten her vows, how does this relate to Samael, why was she swearing allegiance to Anastasia? If she was made to forget because that vow was a secret, who was it kept secret from (John, presumably), and why, and how will this impact Alecto's motivations and actions in the next book? John seemed happy/relieved to see Alecto when she woke him up via sword-to-the-chest, but the Alecto he put to sleep (presumably) didn't remember her vows to Anastasia, and the Alecto who stabs him does, and what could this mean? How does this all connect to Anastasia's bones being nestled by the Rock on the inside of the tomb? Did Anastasia have a long term plan, or was she just hoping that the next time Alecto woke up that things would be Different? What could she possibly have hoped or assumed would have changed in that interim time? How does this connect to Alecto calling out for Anastasia right before John leads her into the Tomb? What HAPPENED between Anastasia and Alecto, and John, and Samael, and—(I am pulled off stage with a large hook)

#the locked tomb #nona the ninth #alecto #alectoanastasia #tlt meta #trb.txt #tlt thoughts #SAVE ME ALECTOANASTASIA SAVE ME......#has anyone posted about this before and i missed it. does anyone have thoughts. im going insane

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dixons-sunshine · 5 months ago

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“You're staring again.”

The voice of your closest friend snapped your attention back to reality. Michonne laughed as your wide eyes stared at her, embarrassment at being caught—for the hundredth time, but that was a discussion for another day—staring at the handsome, rugged archer. You wouldn't admit it to anyone but yourself, but watching the younger Dixon work on his bike was probably your favourite pastime. You could watch him and never get bored.

Michonne knew about that little fact, and she loved to annoy you about it whenever she could.

You scoffed and avoided her knowing gaze and teasing smirk. “I wasn't staring,” you mumbled out in a weak attempt to defend yourself, but to no avail. You had been caught.

Michonne chuckled and shook her head. “Yeah, so that drool on your face came from the fact that you were daydreaming about riding Daryl's bike and not Daryl himself, right?”

You almost choked on air at your friend's bluntness. “Michonne!” you hissed through your teeth. However, your “scolding” was met with more laughter.

“No, you're right, I'm sorry.” You breathed a sigh of relief. However, your relief was short-lived, because Michonne had something else to say. “You were daydreaming about riding Daryl on his bike, weren't you?”

“Michonne!” you exclaimed in embarrassment.

Michonne almost doubled over in laughter. “I'm sorry!” she managed through her laughing fit. “But it's true! Hell, you told me once you wondered if he'd be able to bench press you.”

You glared at her, but there was no real heat behind it. You could never really be mad at your friend. “Need I remind you that I said that while I had more than half a bottle of whiskey in my system? Almost a year ago?”

“Yup, and you still haven't made a move yet,” Michonne pointed out. “I think you should just kiss him and get the it out of your system.”

“Kiss who?”

The sound of Daryl's voice startled both you and Michonne. You turned to look at him, trying to shield your embarrassment from his perceptive gaze. “Daryl! Hi,” you squeaked out.

Daryl's eyes trailed over your face thoughtfully, clearly in an attempt to decipher why you were being so fidgety around him all of a sudden, but he made no comment on it. “Hey, Sunshine.” He sent Michonne a respectful nod in greeting. “Wha' were y'all talkin' 'bout?”

“Oh, nothing,” Michonne told him, sending you a mischievous smile. “Say, Daryl, you're a pretty strong guy, right?”

Daryl shrugged nonchalantly. “Wouldn't call myself weak, so I guess so, yeah.”

“Do you think you'd be able to bench press Y/N?”

Daryl's eyes widened at her question. He ducked his head in an attempt to hide the blush forming on his face. “I—I dun'—um—”

“Michonne!” you exclaimed in embarrassment. “Can you not?”

Michonne smirked and shrugged. “What? I thought you wanted to know.”

“Goodbye, Michonne!” For added emphasis, you lightly pushed her away, hoping she'd get the memo.

Michonne laughed and, thankfully, walked off. “Use protection, you crazy kids.”

When Michonne disappeared, you slowly turned back to Daryl. The archer was awkwardly fidgeting with his hands, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. “I'm so sorry about her,” you apologized quietly.

Daryl shrugged, his cerulean eyes flickering up to meet your own eyes. “S'alrigh',” he mumbled. Then, unexpectedly, even for him, he added, “I prolly could. Bench press ya, I mean. M'willin' to test tha' theory.”

Your breath hitched at his words. You cleared your throat and shrugged. “That's good to know.” In an attempt to change the conversation, you motioned towards his bike. “Almost fixed?”

Daryl nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. 'Bout 'nother hour or so and it'll be runnin' smoothly again.” Taking a deep breath, Daryl prepared himself for the question he was about to ask you. “I was thinkin' 'bout takin' it out for a test drive after this, jus' to be sure. Do ya, um... Do ya maybe wanna come with me? We can swing by tha' lake ya like so much.”

You smiled at him and nodded, your heart fluttering in your chest. “Yeah, okay. It's a date,” you told him, not even fully comprehending what you had just said.

Daryl didn't correct you. He definitely liked the sound of that. “I'll come get ya when s'ready?”

“Okay. I'll be ready.”

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tulipatheticee · 5 months ago

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Hi! I had an idea of Eloise x fem reader, reader being Queen Charlotte’s daughter. They get caught together, and readers mother suggests marriage. With that Eloise and reader start the acceptance of the same sex love/marriage.

love story e.b

eloise bridgerton x queen charlottes daughter! reader

synopsis; In the heart of Regency London, Princess Y/N, daughter of Queen Charlotte, and Eloise Bridgerton find themselves entangled in a clandestine romance amidst the glittering balls and gossip of high society. Their love defies conventions and faces scrutiny, ultimately prompting Queen Charlotte to propose a marriage that could change society's perception of same-sex love forever.

word count; 5.3k

master list

a/n; i went a little ham on this one, i was not joking when i said wlw unlocks something inside of me

as always, kinda proof read, kinda not :p

So I sneak out to the garden to see you

We keep quiet, 'cause we're dead if they knew

So close your eyes

Escape this town for a little while, oh oh

In the bustling midst of London’s social season, Queen Charlotte's daughter, Princess y/n, found herself at the centre of attention. Raised amidst the pomp and protocol of high society, she was no stranger to the expectations placed upon her. Attending debutante events was simply another facet of her role as the queen's daughter—a duty performed with grace and an impeccably polished facade.

It was at one such event, a gathering of debutantes adorned in their finest, where y/n first noticed her. Eloise Bridgerton, amidst the sea of hopefuls vying for attention, stood out not just for her striking beauty but for an air of defiance that seemed to hover around her like an invisible shield. Eloise, with her quick wit and sharp tongue, had garnered a reputation as the most outspoken and unconventional of the Bridgerton siblings—a title she wore proudly, much to her mother Violet's simultaneous exasperation and admiration.

From across the room, y/n observed as Eloise engaged in animated conversation with other debutantes. There was a sparkle in her eye and a hint of mischief in her smile that drew y/n's attention irresistibly. Eloise's laughter, free and unbridled, cut through the polite chatter of the event like a breath of fresh air in a stuffy room. For a moment, y/n found herself captivated, her gaze lingering longer than was strictly polite.

Meanwhile, Eloise, amidst the whirl of introductions and compliments, couldn't help but notice the queen's daughter. Elegant and composed, y/n exuded a quiet confidence that commanded attention without demanding it. Unlike the other debutantes who fluttered around Eloise, y/n stood apart, observing with an intensity that hinted at a keen intellect beneath her composed exterior.

Their eyes met briefly across the room—a fleeting moment charged with unspoken curiosity and intrigue. It was a simple exchange, unnoticed by the swirling crowd around them but leaving an indelible impression on both Eloise and y/n. In that brief encounter, something stirred, a silent recognition that hinted at possibilities yet unexplored.

The grand presentation at the Palace was a spectacle to behold. The ballroom was adorned with glittering chandeliers and opulent decorations, filled with the crème de la crème of London society. Eloise stood in line, fidgeting with her gloves as she prepared to be introduced. Her mother gave her a reassuring smile.

“Stand tall, Eloise,” Violet whispered. “This is your moment.”

As Eloise stepped forward, she caught a clearer sight of Princess Y/N, standing beside her mother. Their eyes met once again across the room, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. Y/N’s gaze was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the intimidating grandeur of the palace. Eloise felt an inexplicable pull towards her, something she couldn’t quite understand.

Just as Eloise was about to be presented, the attention of the room shifted abruptly. The queens guards charging through the doors, whispers of “Lady Whistledown '' spread like wildfire, next thing you know, the queen is declaring she's seen enough and everyone is dismissed and Eloise found herself relieved of the spotlight as gossip overtook the ceremony. The mysterious writer had once again stolen the show, and Eloise couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for the diversion.

'Cause you were Romeo, I was a scarlet letter

And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet"

But you were everything to me

I was beggin' you, "Please don't go, " and I said

The opulent ballroom of Lady Danbury's estate shimmered with the flicker of candlelight and the murmur of polite conversation. Eloise Bridgerton, dressed in an exquisite gown of deep emerald silk that Lady Danbury had insisted upon, moved gracefully amidst the crowd, her gaze sweeping over the assembly of London's elite.

The event was a dazzling affair, attended by the highest echelons of society, each guest meticulously adorned in their finest attire. Yet amidst the glittering array of guests, Eloise's eyes sought out a familiar figure—Princess y/n, who stood with Queen Charlotte, radiating an air of quiet elegance that set her apart from the throng of debutantes.

Eloise couldn't deny the flutter of anticipation in her chest as she made her way towards y/n, navigating the maze of guests with practiced ease. Her heart raced with a mixture of nerves and excitement, unsure of how their conversation at Queen Charlotte's debutante event would influence their interaction tonight.

Meanwhile, y/n observed the revelry with a regal composure, her gaze occasionally drifting towards Eloise amidst the swirl of dancers and the lilting strains of the orchestra. The princess was acutely aware of the scrutiny she faced as Queen Charlotte’s daughter—the expectations of duty and decorum that shadowed her every move. Yet amidst the splendour of the ballroom, y/n found herself drawn to Eloise’s spirited presence and unguarded authenticity.

Violet Bridgerton, determined to secure another diamond among her brood, guided Eloise through the throng of guests towards the queen and y/n. Eloise, begrudgingly adorned in an elegant gown befitting her station, maintained a facade of polite disinterest as Violet introduced her to the queen and her daughter.

"Your Majestys, may I present my daughter, Eloise Bridgerton," Violet announced with practised grace.

Y/n, acknowledging the introduction with a nod, offered a polite smile that barely concealed her curiosity. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Bridgerton," she greeted eloquently, her voice carrying a warmth that belied her royal stature.

Eloise, though outwardly composed, felt a rush of nerves mingled with an unexpected flutter of excitement. She had anticipated the formality of the introduction, yet y/n's presence seemed to alter the air around her, making her acutely aware of every gesture and fleeting expression.

"Likewise, Your Highness," Eloise replied with a hint of her trademark wit, a small smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "Though I must admit, I am more accustomed to lively debates than royal audiences."

Y/n's smile widened subtly, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "I look forward to those debates, Miss Bridgerton," she replied in kind, a gentle challenge underlying her words.

The exchange, though brief, left an impression on both women. For Eloise, accustomed to the constraints of societal expectations, y/n represented a refreshing departure—an enigma wrapped in regal poise and quiet strength. And for y/n, intrigued by Eloise's spirited demeanor and quick intellect, the encounter ignited a curiosity that lingered long after the ball had ended.

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone

I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run

You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

As the evening progressed, Eloise and y/n’s paths collided again near the elaborate dessert table adorned with crystal bowls of sugared fruits and delicate pastries. Eloise, emboldened by Lady Danbury’s encouraging nod from across the room, approached y/n with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, nerves tingling beneath her skin.

“Your Highness,” Eloise greeted warmly, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness despite her best efforts to appear composed.

y/n turned towards Eloise with a gracious smile, her eyes alight with genuine interest. “Miss Bridgerton,” y/n replied with a nod of acknowledgment, noting the subtle tension in Eloise’s stance.

Their conversation flowed with the ease of familiarity yet tinged with the underlying currents of unspoken desire and mutual intrigue. They exchanged pleasantries about the music, the decorations, and the latest society gossip, each word carrying a weight of unspoken meaning that hung between them like an invisible thread.

Eloise, ever the conversationalist, couldn’t resist steering the discussion towards a topic that had intrigued her since their first meeting. “Your Highness, I must admit, I found your observations on the latest literary sensation quite captivating,” she remarked, her tone light yet tinged with curiosity.

y/n chuckled softly, appreciating Eloise’s intellect and the genuine interest she showed in their previous conversation. “Ah, but Miss Bridgerton, I fear my views on literature may not always align with conventional wisdom,” y/n replied with a playful glint in her eyes.

Eloise leaned in slightly, her gaze locking with y/n’s in a moment of shared understanding. “Isn’t that the beauty of literature, Your Highness? It allows us to explore different perspectives and challenge our own beliefs,” she countered, her voice laced with a mixture of admiration and genuine curiosity.

Their banter continued late into the night, punctuated by shared laughter and stolen glances that hinted at a connection deeper than mere friendship. For Eloise, y/n represented a kindred spirit—a beacon of hope amidst the rigid expectations of London society. She found herself drawn to y/n’s quiet strength and unwavering authenticity, traits that resonated deeply with Eloise’s own aspirations and struggles.

In those stolen moments between dances, y/n found herself captivated by Eloise’s infectious enthusiasm and fierce determination. She admired Eloise’s courage to challenge societal norms and speak her mind, qualities that set her apart from the polished facades of London’s debutantes.

As the evening drew to a close, Eloise reluctantly bid y/n farewell with a promise to meet again soon. Their parting left y/n with a lingering warmth in her heart—a feeling that defied the constraints of duty and hinted at the possibility of something more.

Romeo, save me, they're tryna tell me how to feel

This love is difficult, but it's real

Don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

Eloise and y/n found themselves entangled in a web of conflicting emotions and societal expectations. Despite the undeniable chemistry that sparked between them at Lady Danbury's grand ball, both struggled to come to terms with their growing attraction.

In the days that followed the ball, Eloise couldn't shake the memory of y/n's enchanting smile and the way her eyes lit up with intelligence and charm. She found herself stealing glances at y/n across crowded ballrooms, each stolen glance fueling a mix of excitement and apprehension.

Meanwhile, y/n wrestled with her own tumultuous emotions. As Queen Charlotte's daughter, she was keenly aware of the scrutiny her actions faced. The prospect of scandal and disgrace haunted her thoughts, casting a shadow over her budding friendship with Eloise.

Their paths crossed again at another glittering social event, where Violet Bridgerton, ever the matchmaker, introduced Eloise to y/n in hopes of sparking a connection. Eloise's heart raced as she exchanged pleasantries with y/n, their conversation laced with a subtle undercurrent of tension and curiosity.

Later that evening, as they found themselves alone in a quiet corner of the ballroom, y/n couldn't help but voice her uncertainties. "Miss Bridgerton, do you ever feel... conflicted?" she asked tentatively, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

Eloise hesitated, her mind racing with unspoken thoughts. "I... I suppose I do," she admitted softly, her gaze searching y/n's face for any sign of understanding. "This world we live in—it's so... unforgiving."

y/n nodded in silent agreement, her fingers nervously toying with the fabric of her gown. "Sometimes I wonder if... if we're meant to feel this way," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Eloise reached out, her touch gentle yet reassuring. "I don't have all the answers, Princess," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But I know that when I'm with you, everything feels... different."

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Lady Danbury, who swept y/n away to greet other guests. Eloise watched as Lady Danbury whisked y/n away, her heart sinking with each step that carried them farther apart. Alone in the bustling ballroom, she found herself drawn to a quiet alcove, seeking refuge from the swirl of conversations and glittering chandeliers.

Leaning against a draped curtain, Eloise closed her eyes and let out a quiet sigh. Thoughts of y/n consumed her mind, their unfinished conversation lingering like an unspoken promise in the air.

She traced the intricate pattern of her gown absentmindedly, her thoughts drifting back to y/n's earnest question. Do you ever feel... conflicted? And back to her own comment before the conversation ended, when I'm with you, everything feels... different. How would y/n have responded to that? Did she feel the same way, or was Eloise's heart leading her down a path fraught with uncertainty?

The memory of y/n's smile flickered in her mind—the way it lit up the room, reaching out to Eloise like a beacon in the darkness of societal expectations. They had danced around the edges of something profound, something that could alter the course of their lives forever.

Lost in her reverie, Eloise was startled by the sound of approaching footsteps. She turned to find Benedict Bridgerton, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Sister, are you all right?" he asked gently, his voice breaking through her thoughts.

Eloise managed a faint smile, though her heart still raced with unanswered questions. "I'm fine, Benedict," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "Just... lost in thought."

Benedict studied her for a moment, his gaze searching. "Is it about the Princess?" he ventured cautiously, knowing his sister well enough to sense when something weighed heavily on her mind.

Eloise nodded slowly, unable to suppress a sigh. "Yes," she admitted quietly. "We were... talking. About feelings, I suppose."

Benedict arched an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Feelings?" he echoed, prompting Eloise to elaborate.

"I told her... how I feel when I'm with her," Eloise confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "But then Lady Danbury interrupted us, and I never got to find out how she feels."

Understanding dawned in Benedict's eyes as he took in Eloise's words. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Eloise, you know what they say about the young Princess," he said gently. "She's smart, perceptive. She'll understand."

Eloise managed a weak smile, grateful for her brother's reassurance. "I hope so," she murmured, her thoughts still lingering on y/n's last words to her.

As the ballroom bustled around them, Benedict offered his arm to Eloise. "Shall we join the others?" he suggested, his tone lightening with an attempt to lift her spirits.

Eloise nodded, drawing a deep breath to steady herself. "Yes, let's," she agreed, linking her arm with Benedict's. Together, they returned to the lively gathering, though Eloise's thoughts remained with y/n—wondering, hoping, and silently yearning for their next conversation.

I got tired of waiting

Wondering' if you were ever comin' around

My faith in you was fading

When I met you on the outskirts of town, and I said

Days passed after the interrupted conversation at Lady Danbury's ball, each one stretching with anticipation and uncertainty for Eloise. She found herself eagerly attending every social event in hopes of catching another glimpse of y/n, her heart skipping a beat whenever their paths crossed across the crowded rooms.

It was at a smaller, more intimate gathering hosted by the Featheringtons that Eloise finally saw y/n again. The evening was alive with music and laughter, the air fragrant with the scent of gardenias and the promise of summer.

Eloise stood near the refreshment table, feigning interest in the punch bowl as she discreetly watched y/n across the room. y/n was engaged in conversation with Dowager Violet Bridgerton, their laughter mingling with the tinkling of crystal glasses.

Summoning her courage, Eloise took a deep breath and approached them. "Excuse me, Mama, may I steal the Princess away for a moment?" she asked politely, her voice betraying none of the nervousness fluttering in her chest.

Violets eyes flickered mischievously as she glanced knowingly between Eloise and y/n. "Of course, Eloise," she replied with a knowing smile. "Take her—though I warn you, Her Royal Highness has been entertaining us all evening with her wit."

Eloise felt a rush of relief and gratitude towards her mother as y/n turned towards her, her expression lighting up with surprise and delight. "Miss Bridgerton," y/n greeted warmly, setting down her glass to face her fully. "I didn't expect to see you here tonight."

Eloise swallowed nervously, suddenly feeling the weight of her confession at Lady Danbury's ball. But still she continued to escort the Princess through the crowd until they were outside in the garden, under the nights sky, completely alone.

"I wanted to apologise for our conversation being cut short," she began earnestly, meeting y/n's gaze with sincerity. "I... I meant what I said. About how I feel when I'm with you."

y/n's smile softened, her eyes holding a hint of something that made Eloise's heart skip a beat. "Miss Bridgerton,,," y/n replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper amidst the lively chatter around them. "I've been thinking about that conversation too."

Relief flooded through Eloise as she took a step closer to y/n, their proximity sparking a warmth that spread through her veins. "Really?" she asked, unable to contain the hope in her voice.

y/n nodded, her expression gentle yet filled with a quiet intensity that mirrored Eloise's own feelings. "Yes, really," she confirmed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Eloise's arm. "I didn't get to answer then, but... I feel something too."

Eloise's heart soared at y/n's words, her fears and uncertainties momentarily forgotten in the rush of emotions. "I'm glad," she murmured softly, her gaze locked with y/n's. "I wasn't sure how you'd feel, or... if we could even..."

Before she could finish, y/n leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Eloise's cheek in a tender gesture that sent a shiver down Eloise's spine. "I want to find out," y/n whispered, her breath warm against Eloise's ear. "If we could be something more."

Eloise's breath caught in her throat as she gazed into y/n's eyes, seeing her own hopes reflected back at her. Without hesitation, she reached up to cup y/n's cheek, her thumb caressing the soft skin beneath her touch. "I want that too, Your Highness" Eloise admitted softly, her voice filled with newfound courage and longing.

Y/N smilied, her eyes lighting up. “Please, call me Y/N. Titles are so tiresome, don’t you think?”

Eloise laughed softly. “Very much so. I find this entire season tiresome.”

In that stolen moment amidst the music and the soft glow of candlelight, Eloise and y/n leaned closer together, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss that spoke volumes of unspoken promises and the beginning of a love that dared to defy convention.

As they pulled away, breathless and smiling, Eloise felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Here, in the embrace of y/n's presence, she found not only acceptance but also the beginning of a journey she never dared to imagine—a journey of love, bravery, and the courage to be true to oneself.

They walked together in the garden, the conversation flowing easily. Eloise was captivated by Y/N’s intelligence and wit, and Y/N found Eloise’s rebellious spirit refreshing. As days turned into weeks, their friendship deepened, but so did the confusion. Can this go on forever?

Romeo, save me, I've been feeling so alone

I keep waiting for you, but you never come

Is this in my head? I don't know what to think

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the gardens of Bridgerton House. Eloise and y/n sat side by side on the swings, their feet lightly touching the ground, pushing back and forth in a gentle rhythm. The air was filled with the scent of blooming roses and the distant hum of London’s bustle, now just a distant murmur.

"I never imagined finding such peace in the heart of London," y/n remarked softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she swayed back and forth. Her eyes wandered over the garden, where vibrant blooms danced in the gentle breeze, their colours vivid against the backdrop of the setting sun.

Eloise, her legs stretched out in front of her, kicked lightly against the earth to keep the swing moving. "It's my favourite place to escape," she said, a small smile playing on her lips as she glanced at y/n. "Thank you for visiting me here."

Y/n turned to Eloise, her gaze filled with an unspoken tenderness. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," she replied, her voice filled with sincerity. She reached out, her hand finding Eloise’s, their fingers intertwining effortlessly. The simple touch sent a jolt of warmth through them, grounding them in their shared moment.

A comfortable silence settled over them, the only sounds the creak of the swings and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Eloise closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the serenity of the garden and the presence of y/n beside her.

"Do you ever wonder what the future holds for us?" y/n asked softly, her voice filled with curiosity as she turned to Eloise, who was still lost in the quiet of the moment.

Eloise opened her eyes, her gaze drifting towards the horizon where the sun was painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. "I used to worry about it," she admitted, her fingers absently tracing patterns on y/n’s palm. "But now... I like to think that as long as we're together, we can face anything."

Y/n's smile was gentle, her eyes reflecting the twilight’s colours as she leaned her head against Eloise’s shoulder. "I believe that too," she murmured, her voice steady with a quiet confidence. "We'll navigate this world together, Eloise."

In the tranquil embrace of Bridgerton House's garden, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the blossoming love between them, Eloise and y/n found solace in each other’s company. The swings moved back and forth, a gentle testament to their growing bond, anchoring them in a love that defied expectations and embraced the courage to live authentically.

He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring

And said, "Marry me, Juliet

You'll never have to be alone

One afternoon in the opulent drawing room of the palace, y/n sat with Eloise, their conversation light and filled with quiet laughter. The warmth of the fire crackled in the background, casting flickering shadows on the richly adorned walls. Y/n leaned close to Eloise, sharing a private moment, both girls peppering kisses over each other's faces, enjoying the feeling of being in each other's embraces.

Unbeknownst to them, Queen Charlotte had returned earlier than expected, her steps muffled by the thick carpet. She paused in the doorway, her sharp eyes catching the intimate exchange between y/n and Eloise. For a moment, she simply observed, her mind racing with the implications.

"Miss Bridgerton!" Queen Charlotte's voice cut through the air, startling both young women. Eloise turned pale, her heart sinking as she realised they had been caught. Y/n sat frozen, her eyes wide with apprehension.

"Mother," y/n stammered, attempting to gather her thoughts. "I can explain—"

Queen Charlotte held up a hand, her expression unreadable. "There is no need for explanations, my dear. It seems the situation has clarified itself." She stepped further into the room, her gaze shifting between y/n and Eloise.

Eloise stood, her nerves taut with uncertainty. "Your Majesty, please understand—"

"I understand more than you might realise," Queen Charlotte interrupted gently, her tone softening slightly. She approached Eloise, studying her with a discerning eye. "Miss Bridgerton, do you care for my daughter?"

Eloise swallowed hard, meeting Queen Charlotte's gaze squarely. "Yes, Your Majesty," she admitted, her voice steady despite her nerves.

"And you, y/n?" Queen Charlotte turned to her daughter, her expression softening. "How do you feel about Miss Bridgerton?"

Eloise hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. "Mother, I... I care for Eloise deeply. More than I ever thought possible."

Queen Charlotte nodded, her features reflecting a mix of concern and contemplation. "Love comes in many forms," she said finally, her voice carrying wisdom earned through years of navigating societal expectations. "It is clear to me that your feelings are genuine."

Eloise blinked back tears, overwhelmed by her mother's unexpected understanding. Y/n reached out, gently squeezing Eloise's hand in silent support.

“But regardless, you both are participating in acts only those who are married should be. I will not accept a scandal.”

"Mama, what should we do? We can’t imagine life apart!" y/n asked, her voice tinged with hope and apprehension.

Queen Charlotte smiled softly, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "Perhaps it is time we consider a different kind of arrangement," she mused, her mind already formulating a plan. "One that will allow you both to live authentically, without the confines of societal scandals, the only right choice in these conditions." She paused (dramatic effect no?)

“Marriage.”

And so, in that serene drawing room of the palace, a new chapter began for y/n and Eloise—a chapter marked by acceptance, love, and the courage to challenge tradition.

I love you and that's all I really know

I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

In the warm, inviting drawing room of Bridgerton House, Eloise nervously clasped y/n's hand. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, adding an air of solemnity to the moment. Around them, the Bridgertons—Anthony, Benedict, Colin, Daphne, and the younger siblings—gathered, curiosity etched on their faces.

Eloise took a deep breath, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and apprehension. "I... We have something to share," she began, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

Anthony, ever the observant eldest brother, arched an eyebrow. "Go on, Eloise. What is it?"

Eloise glanced at y/n, drawing strength from their presence. "y/n and I... We've decided to take a step forward together. We're engaged."

There was a collective gasp of surprise from her family. Daphne's eyes widened, her hand instinctively reaching for Benedict's. Benedict leaned back in his chair, a grin spreading across his face. Colin adjusted himself, trying to process the unexpected news.

With the initial shock beginning to subside, the Bridgertons exchanged bewildered glances, each processing the news in their own way.

"Wait, you two are... engaged?" Colin asked, his voice filled with surprise.

Daphne, recovering from her initial shock, spoke gently. "But... how? I mean, are you even allowed to... marry?"

Eloise smiled, a touch of defiance in her eyes. "Yes, Daphne. Queen Charlotte herself has given us her blessing."

Colin, adjusting to the news, nodded thoughtfully. "I see. It's certainly unconventional, but if Her Majesty approves..."

Anthony, ever the pragmatist, chimed in. "Well, then. It seems we are in uncharted territory, but as long as you're both certain..."

Eloise and y/n exchanged a glance, their bond palpable. "We are," y/n affirmed softly.

"Eloise, are you certain about this?" Francesca asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Eloise nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, Francesca. I've never been more certain about anything in my life."

Benedict, always the voice of reason, spoke up next. "Well, this is quite unexpected, but if it's what makes you both happy..."

Hyacinth interjected, unable to contain her excitement. "Eloise, this is incredible news! I didn't think you'd ever settle down."

Anthony, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. "Eloise, Princess Y/N, if this is your decision, then you have my support. Always."

Eloise squeezed y/n's hand tighter, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. "Thank you, Anthony."

As the evening wore on, the atmosphere shifted from confusion to acceptance. The Bridgertons, while initially taken aback, found themselves embracing Eloise and y/n's decision. It was a moment that marked not only a new chapter in Eloise's life but also a testament to the changing times—a time when love was beginning to transcend boundaries and expectations.

Outside, the bustling city of London continued its rhythmic pulse, unaware of the quiet revolution unfolding within the walls of Bridgerton House—a revolution led by two hearts brave enough to defy convention and choose love, in all its unexpected forms.

'Cause we were both young when I first saw you

Eloise stood by the window of their home, gazing out at the bustling streets of London. It had been nearly a year since their marriage, and the city seemed to hum with a different energy. Change was in the air, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in what she and y/n had accomplished together.

The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Beside her, y/n stirred in their sleep, their features softened in the gentle dawn. Eloise smiled fondly, reaching out to brush a lock of hair from y/n's face. They had been through so much together—the secret glances, the stolen kisses, the fear of discovery—and yet, here they were, stronger than ever.

Their marriage had sparked conversations across London society. Some viewed it with curiosity, others with disdain, but Eloise and y/n had found unexpected allies among their peers. Lady Danbury, always a force to be reckoned with, had become a staunch supporter, using her influence to deflect any lingering whispers of scandal.

As Eloise reflected on their journey, she couldn't help but marvel at how far they had come. They had faced challenges and uncertainties, but through it all, their love had remained steadfast. They had created a sanctuary within their home, where they could be themselves without fear of judgement or reprisal.

Outside, the city continued to wake up to a new day. Carriages rumbled past, merchants called out their wares, and London life carried on its bustling rhythm. Eloise turned back to y/n, watching as they stirred awake, their eyes fluttering open to meet hers.

"Good morning," y/n murmured, their voice still laced with sleep.

"Good morning," Eloise replied, leaning in to press a soft kiss to y/n's lips. They shared a quiet moment together, the warmth of their embrace speaking volumes where words fell short.

"I never imagined we'd be here," y/n whispered, their fingers tracing patterns on Eloise's cheek.

"Neither did I," Eloise admitted, her heart swelling with emotion. "But I wouldn't change a thing."

They lay entwined in each other's arms, basking in the simple joy of being together. Outside, the city continued its daily hustle, but in their sanctuary, time seemed to stand still.

In the weeks and months that followed, Eloise and y/n continued to navigate their newfound roles as partners in life and advocates for change. They attended social events hand in hand, their presence a quiet yet powerful statement of love and acceptance. Through their actions, they hoped to pave the way for others who dared to love outside of society's conventions.

Occasionally, they would steal moments alone, away from the prying eyes of society, to remind themselves of the bond they shared. Whether it was a quiet evening at home or a stolen kiss in a secluded corner of a ballroom, every moment together reaffirmed their commitment to each other.

Their love story became a beacon of hope for those who yearned for acceptance and understanding. Slowly but surely, attitudes began to shift. Families whispered their support in drawing rooms, friends offered quiet encouragement over tea, and London society found itself grappling with the idea that love knew no boundaries.

As the years passed, Eloise and y/n's love story continued to unfold, weaving itself into the fabric of London's history. They faced challenges and triumphs together, building a life filled with laughter, companionship, and unwavering devotion.

Eloise often found herself marvelling at the resilience of y/n, their strength and determination a constant source of inspiration. Together, they navigated the complexities of societal expectations and personal desires, forging a path that defied tradition and embraced love in its purest form.

And so, in the quiet moments before dawn, as the city stirred awake outside their window, Eloise held y/n close, knowing that their love had not only changed their lives but had also left an indelible mark on the world around them.

I did not plan the lyrics around an epilogue and ran out HAHA oopsie

a/npt2; AHHH how did you guys feel about this, i tried to mot make it rushed i really wanted to start from the beginging and build their realtionship in a way a oneshot can, ive been considering writing a story once im done with these requests so we can get some better romance building then!!

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roxirinart · 2 months ago

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Aventurine... You've Gotta Hand It To Him

An in-depth analysis of Aventurine's hands and why they're critical to his character.

Was asked if I could post this (VERY LONG) analysis I made all about Aventurine's hands - niche, perhaps, but I love him very much and he has a LOT of focus placed on his hands in almost every aspect of his story/design! I think it makes for a really neat insight into his character. Let’s go! 2K words or so so we're under a 'read more', folks :P Hope someone finds it interesting :)

Content warning for (very brief mentions of) sexual theming and violence.

I MIGHT be reaching with some of this but I tried to make sure everything was in order, so if there are any inaccuracies lmk! I'm Always on the lookout for more valuable Avencheem lore 😋

The Avgin - Culture and Symbolism

Kakavasha was born 'blessed' with unnaturally good luck by the Avgin goddess, Gaiathra Triclops, who is often depicted as a left palm with three eyes upon it. If we assume that therefore, someone’s left hand is representative of Gaiathra, then we can draw some interesting conclusions!

When reciting Gaiathra’s prayer, the typical accompanying gesture is for two participants to put their left palms together while saying it, which - by ‘covering’ Gaiathra’s eyes with each other’s palms, they are (as per the words of the prayer) ‘keeping their schemes forever concealed’.

In the version of Aventurine’s boss form that was removed from the Divergent Universe, he has an attack that changes name for each phase of the fight, as follows:

Phase 1: “Eyes Once Closed for Lies”,

Phase 2: “Eyes Twice Closed for Trickery”

Phase 3: “Eyes Thrice Closed for Schemes”.

This suggests that the symbolic act of Gaiathra closing her eyes is blessing the person in question not to have their lies, trickery, or schemes revealed - “I do not perceive it, nor shall anyone else.” This is important to the Avgin, as they seem to have a cultural focus on underhanded methods of achieving their goals, although this was blown greatly out of proportion by prejudice from other Sigonians, and (later) the wider cosmos. The game’s loading screen description of the Avgin is as follows:

“‘Avgin’ means ‘honey’ in the Sigonian language, yet those who irrationally fear Avgins unjustifiably distort the word's meaning to perpetuate Avgin stereotypes that portray them as crafty, smooth-talking, and capricious.”

Sparkle, when talking to Aventurine, also describes the Avgin as “...notorious throughout the entire universe! Liars, thieves, social manipulators, wolves in sheep's clothing... You're really living up to the reputation.”

The Avgin’s reputation as essentially ‘evil’ people, and the clear cultural and religious importance they place upon one’s left hand specifically, can reveal some interesting things about them (and therefore about Kakavasha):

In the real world, the left hand is very commonly considered to be the ‘wrong’ or ‘evil’ hand across many religions and cultures. The word ‘sinister’ (which may be a good descriptor for Aventurine’s behavior, or at least peoples' perception of him given how other characters react to him during the main questline) comes from a Latin word that means ‘on the left side’.

The French word for left, ‘gauche’ was borrowed back into english to mean ‘lacking social grace’ - and with Aventurine’s way of getting all up in peoples’ faces, grandstanding, being provocative, etc., it seems that ‘gauche’ isn’t a bad descriptor for him, either.

In the early 20th century, left-handedness was identified as ‘a biological anomaly, associated with deviancy but something that could be corrected away with behavioral reinforcement’.

Likewise, in the middle ages in England, left-handed people were more likely to be accused of witchcraft and burned at the stake. Sounds familiar when compared to the way Sigonia treated the Avgin - as evildoers, tricksters, backstabbers, etc.,

If the Avgin were so ‘left-handed’ in all senses of the phrase, then… perhaps the ‘behavioral correction’ they received could be justified...?

It is reinforced several times throughout both written lore and during gameplay that the Avgin’s beautiful appearances and high emotional intelligence were a source of jealousy to other clans and races, hence the perpetuation of the Avgin’s negative reputation - one that Aventurine ends up playing into, often intentionally.

Why bother trying to change the stereotype if he can use it to his advantage? Besides, it’s not like getting rid of the Avgins’ negative rep will help them now, anyway.

All this is to say that the concept of hiding your true intentions with your left hand - ‘keeping your cards close to your chest’, ‘bluffing’, ‘having an ace up your sleeve’, knowing when to ‘show your hand’ - is a huge overarching theme for the Avgin, and therefore for Aventurine.

Notice that a LOT of sayings to do with hiding things from others or manipulating people’s impressions of you and what they think you might do come from poker or other card games! I can’t think of any universe where the devs did that by accident. Nice work, devs!

The Left Hand

‘Sleight of hand’ is the name of Aventurine’s game, and he sure knows how to play it. ‘Sleight’ means “the use of dexterity or cunning, especially so as to deceive”, so naturally the suffix ‘- of hand’ brings Aventurine’s hands to the forefront as one of his main tools of the trade!

However, the devs once again outdid themselves - each of Aventurine’s hands is representative of parts of his character in very different ways.

Everything about Aventurine is designed to cleverly divert attention away from his real thoughts and feelings.

I’ll get the obvious out of the way: Aventurine’s left hand (as previously discussed) is critically important to his character. It represents so many things for him both visually and otherwise.

If you’re a regular Aventurine enjoyer it’s likely you know about his habit of hiding his left hand behind his back when he’s nervous or making a big (or life-threatening) gamble - but why?

He’s specifically hiding Gaiathra’s hand. I don’t think it’s a coincidence; Aventurine - by hiding away what is essentially a physical representation of his goddess - is ‘closing her eyes’, so he cannot be seen through (even if it’s purely subconscious).

He wants people locked onto his gaze and away from the hand he’s clutching Gaiathra’s ‘blessing’ of good luck so tightly with. (Note: the ironic nature of Aventurine’s relationship with his cursed blessing isn’t lost on me, but that’s another day’s essay. :))

This habit of hiding his left hand behind his back is (once you’re looking for it) very common in the majority of his animations, art, cinematics, and other various media, like in his character trailer when he’s about to reveal the result of his big dice roll; in a specific animation during his bossfight, where he’s actively banking on losing so he can carry out his ‘grand death’ (‘clutching his chips for dear life’, as his future self put it…); the idle animation where he’s fidgeting with one of his poker chips; or in the ‘Final Victor’ light cone, where he is playing russian roulette with his own life just to prove a point to Dr. Ratio (which was a little excessive, perhaps…).

Usually, having a hand behind your back is considered to be suspicious: you’re hiding something, perhaps a weapon.

And for Kakavasha, out of fear and knowing it’ll give him the upper hand, he hides his own weapon behind his back: the physical representation of all his schemes, strategies, lies, trickery, and tactics - and the last Avgin palm to touch another’s.

Perhaps in relation to his particularly strong connection with Gaiathra, Aventurine is also left-handed! Evidence? Sure!

As a general ‘fashion rule’ (and for practicality), wristwatches are worn on the non-dominant hand, and someone as fashion-conscious as Aventurine would very likely be aware of this. His watch is on his right wrist.

Additionally, he wears no rings on his left hand because writing or similar activities would be a pain to do with that much jewelry on. Further evidence can be found in this phone wallpaper of him released by Hoyoverse: he’s holding his phone with his left hand, and people usually operate their phones with their dominant hand. Similarly, in one of the many videos on the Hoyoverse YouTube channel (I’m sorry I don’t know which one it’s from), he goes to grab his tablet off the bedside table with his left hand, too.

The Right Hand

Aventurine’s character is, at its core, is all about defense. Protecting himself from harm, shielding his thoughts and feelings from others, creating an impenetrable barrier of flashy clothing and fake smiles to conceal his true self - this all presents in his moveset in battle, too.

He’s a preservation-class, shield-providing character. The critical thing to note is this: his defense all happens on the right hand. This includes his skill (throwing out chips with his right hand to shield his teammates), and his technique, which generates an additional shield for the team before the start of battle.

His right hand ‘shields’ him both literally and metaphorically in this sense. He wears all his rings on his right hand, because that’s the hand he wants you to focus on, the pretty, sparkly one with all the flashy jewelry and expensive wristwatch, the one that’s extended for you to shake (he shakes with his right hand), the only part of him most people get to touch. A part of the body furthest away from his heart, dazzling and defensive.

The outermost, superficial layer.

It’s the hand that more often performs captivating little coin tricks out in the open to catch people’s attention, keeping them focused on something that’s within his control, because so much of his life isn't.

On The Attack

Here’s the kicker though - this makes his left hand the attacking hand. When push comes to shove (or when he feels he needs to strike first), Aventurine lashes out with Gaiathra’s hand.

As mentioned before, his weapons are his schemes, his secrets, his tricks, his lies - and the hand holding all those chips so tightly is his left, the lucky hand, the one that has brought him success and saved his life time and time again.

Ultimately, it all comes down to relying on his raw luck to push him through (whether he's happy about that or not) when all his other methods of attack have been stripped away - and his hand trembles, because having to make a blind bet that his goddess (who did nothing to stop his family being massacred, yet is both cruel and benevolent enough to keep him alive) will save him yet again must be really fucking terrifying.

When Your Hands Are Tied...

Looking at both hands together, a design choice which I believe to be deliberate is the way he has bracelets of some variety over both his wrists. It’s a subtle imitation of manacles; he may have escaped his iron ones, but Aventurine now lives in golden handcuffs instead, bound by social shackles instead of physical ones.

He’s still a slave - just not in the traditional sense.

To my understanding (someone please correct me if I'm wrong, his timeline has some annoying gaps in it even though I tried very hard to figure it out ;-;), technically Aventurine legally belongs to the IPC.

He killed his most recent owner and so escaped his that particular ownership, sure, but when he barters with Jade, he asks her to pay him the ‘remainder of his market value’, which insinuates that it would therefore give him ownership of himself.

However, Jade doesn’t simply hand over the money: she pulls him into a job contract - a new form of imprisonment - without ever giving him real legal autonomy, never officially declaring him a free man. His hands are invisibly tied - bound by corporate and social 'manacles' to his job.

"Out, Damned Spot!"

Speaking of manacles, let’s talk about the ‘Hunger Games’, shall we?

Kakavasha is, at some indeterminate point, entered into a spectator sport where he is forced to fight thirty-four other slaves to the death.

It is mentioned that he has no other weapon than the bindings on his wrists and the chain between them - and he emerges ‘victorious’ (physically the victor... perhaps not mentally or emotionally, though).

In the quest notes during Aventurine’s (literal) trip through the maze while he’s making his way to the stage for his grand finale, he describes himself with the word ‘murderer’, showing that he’s clearly distraught by what happened and resents himself for it.

Following on from this, a possible interpretation of the design choice to have Aventurine wear gloves is for him to (figuratively) hide the blood on his hands.

Aventurine’s gloves simultaneously create a literal barrier between himself and the world, and work as another piece of fancy clothing to add to his impenetrable, sparking defense. The closest match I could find to the style of Aventurine’s gloves are short dress gloves or wrist gloves, which are specifically fashion items as opposed to practical ones.

(As a cheeky little aside, the absolute closest style match I could find for his gloves are latex or leather womens’ gloves most commonly used in BDSM, which is fun! Maybe I’m reaching, but I like to think it’s a subtle way of making him more effeminate - and in Aventurine’s case, therefore a subtle call to his sexuality imo - and also another little detail to help push his ‘provocative’ appearance and demeanor.)

Conclusion

Our hands are how we interact with the world. In Aventurine’s case, they’re how he keeps the world pushed as far away from himself as possible, all the while gripping onto his ‘good luck’ for dear life.

Aventurine’s hands are his weapons, his shield, his faith, his fear, and his guilt, decorated with jeweled rings and bound in golden handcuffs.

Ultimately, when Aventurine offers to lend a hand to the Trailblazer, when he shows Sunday his hand (and a bit more besides) during their meeting, and when he forces Acheron’s hand during his bossfight, it's so that his own hands are free to do whatever he needs to orchestrate his greatest scheme yet...

...for better or worse.

#I would apologise for this being so long #but im not going to :) I put a lot of effort in hahah #wont apologise for all the 'hand' puns either #roxirinhsr #hsr #aventurine #aventurine hsr #aventurine character analysis #character analysis #honkai star rail #aventurine honkai star rail #honkai star rail aventurine #hsr aventurine #LONG POST #roxirinother

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reverieblondie · 9 months ago

Text

Nobel Blood

Pairing: Rolan x Fem!Tav Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fluff and Smut with Plot, Penetrate sex, Tail rubbing?, Desk sex, Cream pie.

Summary: High society has never been your thing, and now your having to go to the Raven Ball...Maybe you will see a familiar face trying to conduct himself in a new landscape...

A/N: This might be completely self indulgent...but I liked it...

Word Count: 7,370 (I got carried away...)

“What about this one? What do you think?”

Rolan appears from behind his changing screen in a new blue jacket with silver embroidery and buttons. The collar and cuffs are lined with silver. His pants are black and a bit tighter to his body than he is accustomed to. The boots he’s wearing are shining and new. Giving himself a once-over in the mirror in his room, he turns around, holding out his arms.

“Be honest… Thoughts?”

A very bored-looking Cal is lying on Rolan's bed. He turns his head, looks at his brother, and gives him a once-over.

“Like I told you about the four other outfits… You look fine. Please just pick one!”

Rolan scoffs, “Cal, this is important. I have to look my best to make a good first impression. There will be a lot of important people there today. This could lead to some great opportunities.”

Cal looks at Rolan, a bit worried, “Rolan, you are putting a lot of pressure on yourself. Just go and relax, maybe meet someone, make friends. You know, have fun!”

Rolan rolls his eyes as he does his hair in his usual tight, twisted bun, “I’m not going to waste the opportunity to have fun!”

Once he had finished with his hair, he adjusted his collar before turning to have Cal assess him once more. When he turned, he saw the prominent frown on Cal's face. He sighs, “Cal, you know how people look at us. This is a chance to change people's perceptions.”

“The right people, you don't have to change their perceptions…”

The room is quiet, and a silent understanding fills the space. The silence is cut by Lia busting through the doors of the master bedroom. Looking at them like they have lost their minds.

“What are you two doing? Rolan, stop fussing and get going! You get invited to a ball and waste your time primping!”

Rolan sighs as Lia dusts off his shoulders and places his invite in his jacket pocket. Pausing, she looks at his hair and starts to pull and loosen his usual style, making it softer looking with some strains to frame his face and the tips of his ears poking out a bit more,

“What the hells Lia! My hair was fine!”

“No, you always wear it so tight you want it looser, rugged.”

“I’m going for cool and collect.”

“Yeah, but ladies like a bit of ruggedness.”

Rolan swats away her hands and starts to leave,

“I'm not going there to get a date!”

Lia huffs at his leaving figure, “Hopeless…”

Cal looks over at Lia, “Any chance he’s going to loosen up and have a good time tonight.”

Lia takes a moment to ponder the question, “If the right person talks to him.”

-KAW!-

The sudden noise tries to break you from your slumber, but only briefly before you lol back to your dreams…magic hands…a soft warmth…a husky whisper…

-KAW KAW!-

The dream is ripped from you as your eyes are popped open; on pure instinct, you reach for your knife under your pillow, but as you look towards the noise, you pause.

The Falcon blinks and tilts its head at you, curiously fidgeting and hopping closer to you. You pull your hand away from the blade and sigh at the familiar bird, “Hello, Rune. Do you have something for me?”

Rune turns, revealing a message carrier just like you expected, “Clever bird,”

Reaching over you, you scratch her neck while you retrieve the message from the red tube. The tube has an emblem very familiar to you: a golden long sword with vines and two golden roses by the sword's hilt. The paper is thick and white, wrapped with a red ribbon. Unwrapping it, you see the fancy script, and it clicks to you what is happening.

“An invitation for the Raven Ball…and I'm guessing they are hoping for me to attend?”

Rune kaws in what seems to be agreement; you nod at her.

“Well, I guess I should head that way… she's bound to be waiting for me.”

Walking up to the massive mansion lined with guards and littered with candles. The entryway is opened for the invited to shuffle in and out of the party. Just deep breaths, smile, and be pleasant…have grace, and don’t throw punches to the face; saying the rhyme in your head brings back fond memories, and you have to stifle a laugh breaking from your throat. One of your two companions notices you hiding a smirk; he notices everything, and it never fails to drive you crazy.

“Nervous Darling?” Astarion smirks, his red eyes observing you as if he could read your mind.

“Nope, are you?” You challenge.

Astarion fakes a laugh and smiles, showing his long fangs flashing in the candlelight. “Never”

Typical…

Walking through the entrance is like walking through time; these balls have always been the same. The host and the house may change, but the overcrowded rooms are filled with the rich and self-important. Deep breaths… keep taking deep breaths….

Arriving at the main hall of the home with Astarion and Shadowheart in tow, you pause with them as they marvel at the grand space. It truly is a beautiful event. Servers glide around the room with their pristine trays, serving fine wines to everyone; Astarion is quick to grab himself a glass as they walk past. The center of the room is filled with people clapping and turning, floating along to the music. Shadowheart keeps her green eyes scanning the dance floor; she is looking for someone in particular…it is the only reason she decided on attending this ball, along with your pleading. Moving your eyes around the space, the candles light the room brightly and make the gilded arches and decor glimmer in an almost magic shine. Knowing how these people love theatrics, they probably had wizards put on some spells for the grandeur of it all.

Turning to your friends, you see they are entirely taken in by the atmosphere, though when Astarion meets your eyes, he plays his wonderment off as if this is nothing to him. As they continue to stroll about, you continue to fuss around with your dress, the corset's tightness starting to irritate you, and the flowing skirt and sleeves feeling like they're going to wrap around your legs and trip you. You curse under your breath as you have a small battle with the dress picked out for you.

“Dress issues?” Astarion teases

You roll your eyes, and you adjust the bodice up, but you find the action is in vain as your cleavage is still on full display. It's been years, and it makes sense the dress wouldn’t lay the same, but the high golden necklace always sat tight on your neck, forcing you to keep your head up, the exposedness of your chest and shoulders always made your cheeks flush, and the tight bodice lined with gold down to your hips always made your breath short. You did like the ruffled white skirt with the red front panel and the matching red sleeves that go from bust to cascade down your arms; it did look nice. But the part you constantly fidget with for comfort is the emblem at the center of your sweetheart neckline. It's that same one it's always been, a golden longsword with two golden roses…

“Just…adjusting…” you smirk back to hide your irritation.

“These corsets are murder but do wonders for the figure at least?” Shadowheart chimes in

Her silvery white hair contrasted beautifully with her lilac silk dress. The fabric looks like it drapes and flows effortlessly off her polling elegantly at the bottom, and as she moves, it reveals a long slit over her right leg. For a dress she picked out today, it looks like it could have been custom-made for her. She had fussed about the dress and her hair, wearing it in a different style than usual, but you assured her she looked terrific and would catch the eye of a certain soon-to-be duke…

Astarion places reassuring hands on yours and her shoulders. “Well, the dresses are definitely an improvement from the drab, caked-up with, grime outfits I had grown accustomed to seeing you in.”

You both look at each other before looking at him unamused. “Thanks, Astarion…” you say in unison, not completely happy that he pointed out your dirty states on the journey you all met on.

“Anytime Darlings~”

Shadowheart’s eyes go back to the dancefloor, and you think for a moment that you see her getting on her tiptoes (despite being in heels) to look over some heads.

“I think I might stroll around the room…see if I can find any…interesting company.”

You and Astarion look at each other, knowing what she truly means; translation: Shadowheart is going to look for Wyll. They are such an opposite duo, but they are just drawn to one another. Astarion always teases the names Shadow Princess and the Horned Prince when talking about them and their longing for each other.

Shadowheart turns to see your smirking faces and she rolls her eyes before walking off. Good luck you silently wish for her…

You watch as she makes her way through the crowd, a part of you wants to go with her to help navigate the space but you know she wants privacy for this and you don’t blame her. While you watch the floor a familiar sensation of red eyes and a fiendish smirk being placed in your direction makes you shudder. Looking up at him you see a very well-dressed Astarion looking like a vision in all black except for the wine-colored small jacket and gold and ruby necklaces hanging from his neck. When you asked about the jewels he just chuckled and left a quick poke on your nose, a way to irritate you and avoid your questions. He continues to stare and smile at the devious thoughts running rampant in his mind.

“Yes?”

Astarion looks away with a slight laugh, “Oh, nothing nothing…just curious if you were going to go look for anyone special tonight. Any fine suitors on the line for you to turn about with?”

When asked only one person flashes in your mind, but you shake it off not wanting to get your hopes too high. He would probably find something like this a waste of time.

“No, I’m planning a rather dull evening of just watching the grander, saying hi to familiar faces. No suitors eager for my hand. You?”

Astarion looks around the room piercing his lips, “I might also be having a rather drab evening…nothing seems to catch my eye, which is too bad I was in the mood to make some trouble.”

A slight laugh escapes your throat and Astarion looks at you with a raised brow, “Something funny?”

“Well, I just think you have changed a lot since a certain bear tagged along…come to think of it you just came back from the old shadow lands and are planning to go back…”

Astrion narrows his eyes at you and you grin widely knowing he’s smitten.

“Very clever…well, I will leave you to it, going to go find some more wine and maybe go rub elbows with some important-looking people…”

“Play nice Astarion!”

“No promises! Ta Ta!”

With both your friends gone you're now alone in the ballroom and now it definitely feels like old times. Memories of your childhood flash through your mind as you watch. In your memory it's a younger you, biting her lip in disdain and fumbling with her dress, head sore with the elaborate braids that were decorated with trinkets and jewels. The biggest thing you remember? The feeling so isolated and unwelcomed by people meant to be your peers. You can recall two gentle hands placed on your shoulders as people just passed you by…

Shaking off the memories you look at the huddles of people near the walls engaged in conversations, “Well, better go say hi to mom and dad…” Gathering up your skirt and taking another deep breath you go on the prowl.

It was overwhelming and Rolan had to stand to the side to recollect himself. It turns out that coming to socialize with people from the upper city was a lot more difficult than he initially expected. He was starting to wonder why the hell he came here. Yes, he had been formally invited but the people didn’t seem to know who he was or they were staring at him and whispering amongst themselves. Was this all a joke…was he just a thing to be stared at and mocked for the night's entertainment?

Looking down at his crimson hands and long nails…his tail twists around his leg as he balls his hands into tight fists. He shouldn’t have come here, he didn’t belong. Cal and Lia had been so excited about his invitation and were eager to help him get ready with high hopes of him growing his name to the city's lords and ladies. He had promised to make friends and get them invited to the next ball, but now that seems like a silly fantasy.

Unraveling his tail and holding his head up, he decides to leave until a familiar figure catches his eye. Astarion? The pale elf has his red eyes on Rolan while keeping a smug smile on his face, instead of waving or greeting him; however, Rolan's thoughts trail to something, someone else. Scanning the room he’s hoping to catch the sight of a particular hero…

“If it isn't the Archmage of Ramaziths Tower, I figured you would see these parties as a waste of time.”

Rolan's body immediately tenses and he turns around quickly, You smile for having spooked him. You watch as his shining eyes widen as they trail over you, his lips slightly parted and you think you hear his tail fall to the ground. From his reaction alone you're suddenly no longer lamenting having to wear the dress and in fact decide to stand a bit straighter. Once he realizes he’s staring he averts his gaze from your chest and neck, clearing his throat.

“Tav, what…why?”

“What? Not happy to see me?

“I- no…I mean I am! Well not happy, I mean I am happy but not super happy, but a surprised happy! Uh…pleasantly surprised….”

His eyes meet yours and winces at himself, understanding how these parties can whine someone up you decide to ease the tension. Giggling at his rambling you gently punch his shoulder breaking the awkwardness threatening to set in. The force of the punch causes him to stumble and smile.

“It’s good to see you, but I’m a little shocked. I figured these parties would be far too stuffy for such a great adventuring hero of the gate.”

You shrug looking out to the party where you see Astrion watching you two, you give him a look of ‘what?’ and he shakes his head with a smirk and walks away. You turn back to Rolan,

“Actually I’m pretty used to these stuffy parties.”

Rolan’s brows furrow as he looks down at you confused, you do the same as you look up at him, and then it clicks.

“Rolan, I’m from Baldur's Gate. I grew up having to go to these parties and having to take etiquette classes. My mother is a countess, from a long line of nobility and my father is a general for a regiment of the city's army.”

Rolan's eyes widen as you nonchalantly explain your past, “Your… a lady from an important house of Baldur's Gate…and you were out slumming it in the wild? Wielding swords and blowing up goblin camps?”

Thinking for a second you nod “Yeah, my dad used to take me camping and taught me how to fight. Mom wanted me to be a proper socialite but I didn't exactly fit in… Once I got older they told me I could go travel the swords coast, get the wildness out of me before finding a suitor, ya know?”

Rolan shakes his head with a smile, “So you left all of this to adventure and ended up getting a tadpole in your head. That inevitably leads you back here…”

“Hey, I had adventures before that! But I will say that one was my favorite.”

Rolan smirks and looks down at you, “Because it made you a hero?”

You look up at him, his gentle gaze and soft loose strands of hair cascading around his horns making your heart flutter, “Because I got to make friends, and meet you.”

Rolan's face gets slightly darker as he thinks of something to say. With him tongue-tied you take the opportunity to tease him more by sticking your tongue at him. He rolls his eyes and turns away, you swear you see the tips of his ears a light hue of marron now.

“Why are you here? And are Cal and Lia with you? I miss them and their tormenting of you.” You continued to tease. Though you see Rolan’s face slightly drop.

“Well…I was the only one to receive an invitation and I didn’t realize I could bring anyone…I wish I would have, with them around I wouldn’t feel so…” Rolan shakes his head as if to shake away his thought, “I came here to meet people to get them interested in the tower's knowledge and to show that I am a worthy archmage. But I haven’t been able to talk to anyone “

Your heart sinks as you listen to Rolan, you remember having to go there alone at times…Rolan is always trying so hard for his family, it's quite honorable of him and one of the things that drew you to him. Thinking for a moment you try to think of a plan before it hits suddenly, “Rolan I can get you a formal introduction to someone who is very important and that I know would like to hear about the tower.”

Rolan’s face lights up, “I would, I would be so grateful.”

Smiling you wrap your arm around Rolan’s elbow, a part of you thought that he would recoil but he seems to welcome the gesture by straightening his posture and tightening up his arm. Your hand creases his bicep and it takes every part of you not to start teasing him about his surprisingly muscular form. Act like a proper socialite, for Rolan’s sake.

As you two stroll about the floor you keep your eyes peeled. Though you do see some people staring at you and Rolan as you walk arm in arm, you figure people are just wanting to gawk at the hero and the new archmage.

“Seems like we are popular sights tonight.”

Rolan hums, “I think you are the popular sight, I’m probably more of the skeptical…”

“Specktical?”

Looking over to meet your eyes Rolan just gently squeezes your hand, “Never mind, uh, so who are we looking for?”

“Her.”

Pointing out your finger you lead Rolan’s eyes to a group of women fanning themselves as they scan their eyes like hawks around the room. They are all dressed immaculately and as the two of you approach they keep their eyes locked on you both. One of the women quickly whispers to a taller woman, the taller woman turns and Rolan has to hold back his gasp.

She looks like you…well an older version but still stunning. Rolan feels his throat instantly dry and when he looks over to you with a panicked expression, he admittedly comprehends what's happening and he’s never felt so unprepared in his life. Feeling him tense you keep a soft smile and gently rub small circles on his hand, trying to ensure he’s calm when meeting your mother.

In front of the intimidating woman (he sees where you get it now) you release yourself from his arm and give a curtsy. Rolan follows your lead and gives a bow.

“Countess, I would like to formally introduce you to Archmage Rolan, Master of Ramaziths Tower. Rolan, this is the Countess, also known as my mother.”

You feel your cheeks grow red, you're introducing a man to your mother…you never thought this would be happening, it’s very proper of you. Looking up at her face you see a soft smile, for her that’s practically beaming. So far so good.

“I heard about the last master's passing…” she says casually. You and Rolan exchanged a glance before she continued “Can’t say I wasn’t fond of the news, he was always a poor representation of the tower. A bit of a cad.”

Rolan’s jaw practically drops and you are quick to continue the conversation for him while he recollects himself,

“Well, I will have to tell you Rolan is quite proficient in magic, self-taught and self-disciplined. He plans on studying and cataloging the tomes in the tower to then share the knowledge with the realms.” You praise

“That's quite the honorable aspiration for a young man. I am sure everyone would be quite pleased to have access to its knowledge. I have been to your tower once before in my youth, the smell of the weave in the air and the majesty of all the books still leaves me with pleasant memories.”

Meaning: ‘Invite me over to see the tower again because ladies do not invite themselves places’. You're not a bit surprised your mother is taking a fast liking to Rolan, he has a title, is respectable, and usually can hold his own in a conversation but today he seems to keep getting tongue-tied, we’ll chop that up to nerves. With a subtle nudge to his arm, you break him out of his daze where he can give her a proper answer.

“Well, th-thank you. I think everyone should have access to knowledge if they want it. Also, you and Tav should join me at the tower for tea. I will have to prepare a bit but I would be delighted to have you two there.”

Two of her ladies-in-waiting mutter something to each other earning them a prompt glare from the Countess. They quickly scurry away.

“I would be delighted to just name the date. Plus I would love to hear about how you two met, knowing my daughter that story will be filled with twists and turns.”

Rolan giggles and you look at your mom in shock as she openly teases you. You have never seen her be so casual with a stranger, well for her this is casual. You can’t help but feel a warmth in your chest, you never were one to crave approval from anyone but it does feel nice when your Mother seems to improve the boy you like.

“I will have you know I handled myself with dignity and grace-“

“I watched her punch someone in the face for disrespecting my kind, it was a lasting impression, a good one,” Rolan says with a laugh and causes your mother to let out a giggle -that woman never giggles!

“Well I will have to forgive her for that, sounds like that punch was well deserved.” Your mother looks at you and you see a softness in her eyes “My tough girl.”

The moment is soft before your mother changes the subject. Ladies must keep the conversation flowing after all.

“Now Tav, why don’t you introduce Master Rolan to your father? I’m sure he would love to meet him.”

With a curtsy and a bow, you two make your way to find your father.

“Never seen you so proper…” Rolan leans down to whisper in your ears, you have to fight the tingling that threatens to show on your skin. Nothing quick like his mockery so close to you.

You take Rolan's arm so he’s leading you through the room, “Never seen you so tongue-tied…” you mock back.

“She's intimidating… I see where you get it from…”

“You should see when she doesn’t like someone, that’s intimidating.”

“Any warnings about your father? Or do you plan to surprise me again?”

“Oh but you do look so cute lost for words, I didn’t know wizards had that capability.” you coo back now blatantly flirting, very unladylike. The scandal…

Feeling bold Rolan tightens his grip on your arm where you can feel his nails against your skin, it is mind-numbing this sudden game. “And I didn't know how ravishing you look in a dress so tightly wound to you.”

The sudden boldness of his words makes you pause, and your cheeks redden. Rolan nervously clears his throat unsure if he overstepped… he brings his eyes up for a distraction and lucky for him he finds one.

“Tav look”, Following his gesture to the dance floor you see a heartwarming sight that distracts your thrumming heart. Wyll spins around the dance floor holding Shadowheart close to his body and he leads her through the dance. They look like a vision together, everyone seems to pause and look at them as they command the space with little effort.

It's while you're watching them you feel a warm hand wrapping around your own. Looking up to its source you see Rolans gleaming eyes on yours taking you in slowly. You swear it’s a secret spell of his to become out of breath and feel sparks when you look at him. The feeling rushes through your veins like it has since you first met him at the grove and all the moments after. Rolan's lips part gracing you with a quick view of his sharp teeth till suddenly you feel yourself being grabbed and thrown into the air.

“And! There is my wayward daughter! Our righteous hero graced us with her presents! Ha Haaa!”

The voice is loud and booming as the large arms wrap around you forcing your body into the air before crashing you back down to your heeled feet. Your father, as bostress as ever and completely uncaring for these parties 'etiquettes’ as always. In a lot of ways, the apple did not fall from the tree.

Taking a moment he scans over you, it's been far too long since you saw him, and from how you ramble and rave at each other it shows. Then his eyes start to scan around you till they are meeting with Rolans, and your father smiles like a Cheshire cat.

“Ah, and I see the rumors are true. You have a gentleman escort this evening.”

“Actually I have two others but one is dancing with the Duke's son while the other is bound to be causing trouble.”

“Trading in for different companies.” His eyes go to Rolan and you see him tease over your father's gaze, “Now to see if this man was worth it.”

“Well, he is a wizard…” Your eyes go to Rolan and you two are now assessing him

“Meet plenty of spellcasters,”

You continue, “Archmage of Ramiths tower…he got the areca artillery working in the battle saving my and my friends' necks.

“The Fire Rainer!” Your father yells, making Rolan and nearby people jump.

Before Rolan can properly process what is happening your Father is grabbing his hand in a crushing grip that Rolan returns.

“My men, We were all in awe of your work getting those dusty turrets to work. And for helping my Tav. Good man.” he continues to shake Rolan's hand for a long moment before letting go and placing a hand on your shoulder.

“He’s good company to keep, strong grip and with fire in his eyes.”

You look at Rolan giving him a nod of a good job before your father is turning to both of you. With a wide grin.

“Now! Rolan, if you walk around with my daughter you must ask her for a dance!”

Rolan stutters over his words as you look at your father like he’s lost his mind.

“Dad, You can’t make him dance.”

“Why not? He wishes to be near you; he must dance with you.”

The words make you flush as you avoid Rolan's eyes, “He’s not the dancing type…”

This causes Rolan to lift a brow, then you feel Rolan’s warm hands on yours leading you suddenly towards the dance floor. In a swift flourish, Rolan spins you and grasps his hand in yours, placing the other on your hip and smirking at your shocked expression…

“Looks like he is!” your father calls barely audible through the music.

The transition to the dance is effortless as you two glide across the floor. Watching his glimmering eyes on yours is spurring your heart into a rush. Your body feels like it’s on fire as he effortlessly glides you through turns and claps. Eyes never leaving one another.

“I didn’t know you knew how to dance?”

Rolan scoffs, “Of course, I know how to dance, you don’t think I haven’t gone to parties before?”

lifting a brow, you look at him with an unamused expression, “OK, I might have practiced…”

You laugh and let him spin you out, then catching your hand and pulling you back to him. His hands in yours, your back flushed to his chest. The dance is completely intertwining, his scent, his warmth, the purring of his chuckling laugh. You want more, your hope is for this dance to never end so you can stay in his arms.

With a twist and a sway of your hips, you smile at him as the blush rushes to his speckled cheeks, a reminder that you are experienced at these dances and you will not hesitate to spice up the moves if it means rubbing against him. It makes his heart thum as he turns you around again, his tail wrapping slightly around your dress as he steps with you till plunging you down to a dip.

A perfect dance partner, finally.

You two stay locked within each other's snare, a small feeling of leaning forward towards each other causing your mouth to water in anticipation of a kiss. Then breaking you two from the moment is roaring applause that fills the room. He lets you rise, and you two join the applause of the musicians as well.

A normal socialite would worry if people could tell how much you liked him. You don’t care, however, Rolan is magnificent, and you would scream it at the top of your lungs, but you know this is his chance to impress rich bastards and prove himself worthy of his new illustrious Title. Of course, the right people already know this, he doesn’t need to impress them.

As you look to the crowd to make your way to your dad to give him sass (and maybe a pat on the back for making that happen for you) you see Rolan Pointing to the front part of the dance floor, music starting to swell up again and your father and mother swaying to the song. Another set of perfectly matched dance partners.

Offering his elbow to you again, you curtsy at Rolan's gesture and let him lead you off the floor. A perfect gentleman, If your mother is watching she is beaming with pride (though she will talk to you about that hip swaying later). Off the floor, your dry throat hits you,

“ I'm going to get a drink, do you want anything?”

“Oh I can-“

“Rolan I can grab drinks, I’m still a hero of the Gate, not a delicate flower.” You tease him.

“A glass of wine sounds great then,”

“I will be a quick second, wait here” With that you gather your skirt and shuffle away. Both of you trying to hide your dorky grins for one another.

Then a stray voice catches Rolan off guard, “Dancing with a noble…but don’t forget you're just hellspawn trash…”

Roland’s eyes widen, and he turns around quickly, but he is met with nothing but a crowd of people wrapped in their own world. One that some are not willing to invite him to. He watches them so clearly, trying not to stare, others staring, and sharing whispers. Then his eyes meet yours.

Golden eyes that you can always catch in any crowd. They shine his brilliance and never fail to make your heartbeat rush. Anyone would be lucky to have him look their way and right now that’s you, drinks in hand, you pick up your speed to get to him faster, but then his starburst eyes shut in something that resembles pain and then he’s gone…Rushing out of the room away from you.

Pausing you watch him leave, your heart sinking to your stomach. Swallowing down the feeling you place the cups on the nearest waiter's tray and run after him.

The hallways are dark as you follow after him. It only gets darker and darker, till you see him dipping into a side room, shutting the door behind him. It takes a bit of self-control on your part, not to rip the door off its hinges as you open it, but the site makes you slow down.

His tail twisted tightly to his leg, hands in his hair, and talking quickly in infernal. Gently you close the door behind you, and with a click lock giving you two privacy in the dark office. Rolan's shoulders tense at the sound of the lock, he can’t bear to look and see your disappointment. You carefully approach as he braces his hands down on the desk. His body so tight you think he will snap two.

“Rolan, wh-what happened?”

Turning his head, his golden eyes shine through the darkness. And they see you perfectly. Face contorted in worry as you gently approach. Your face is the one he knows, the one he saw shining in the sunlight of the Grove, the face that saved him from shadows in the cursed land, the one who held his bruised face so gently promising Lorroakan would never hurt him again… the hero of the gate…his hero.

Then his eyes tail down, his Tav, the hero, dressed in the finest fabrics, a lady of Noble Birth, someone too good for someone like him.

In your eyes, you see him for what he truly is, a strong dreamer, someone who you would walk through the Hells for. A man so dedicated to the ones he loves, you want to love and care for him till your last breath.

“I don’t belong here…I am a joke…a monster for everyone to gawk at.” He finally confesses.

Your eyes grow wide and all you feel is anger, “Did someone say something to you…do something?! Who? I swear I will-“

Before you can, march back into the ballroom and demand reconciliation with blood, you feel warmth wrapping around your shoulders and around your ankle. Rolan's warmth envelops you in his arms, holding you tightly to his chest. Clinging to his forearms you lean into him letting yourself calm.

“You're better than any of them…” you whisper

“Is that what you think?” he mutters in response

“Rolan it’s what I know, you're extraordinary.”

Rolan’s arms tighten around you making you never want to leave his caress, but you still turn to look at him. placing a hand on his face, he’s perfect in your eyes…

“We are different…” he almost pouts

“I like our differences.”

Rolan’s hands slip down to your waist.

“Won’t they slander you, and your family's name?”

“Not the people who matter to me…” your words like a promise

You lean into him rising to your toes to be only a touch away from his lips. You feel his breath fan across yours, and a rush of desire floods your body and mind.

“They will say I tainted you…” his hands caressing your face so gently

“They can go fuck themselves”

The smile you two share is perfect, right before he presses his lips to yours. His lips caressed yours, setting your body a flame, his nails digging into the sides of your dress, and as you felt their points, you gasped and let him trail his lips sloppily on your jaw to your neck. Your mind melted at every rush of his lips, becoming more breathless as the pleasure of this moment crashed over you then pooling into an aching need in your lower stomach. All the blood and the thoughts rush to your swelling bud, leaving your mind in a haze of lust.

Rolan’s tongue licks down at your clavicle while his hands move to cup your breast. You can’t help but shake as he presses kisses and sucks marks to the tops of them. Rolan’s lips find yours again in hunger this time as his tongue seeks to taste more of you. Eargery you met his passion with your own tasting, his wine-laced tongue burning against yours. Undoing the buttons of his jacket you strip it off him in a rush. Once it’s off and tossed to the floor he breaks the kiss and whimpers against your lips, his chest vibrating under your fingertips in a purr.

Turning you quickly, your thighs meet the side of the desk as his lips continue to caress your neck, removing your necklace to nip on your most sensitive spots, all you can do is moan and chant a series of ‘yeses’ and sweet mews of his name. He hums as he spoils himself, touching all over your form.

“More, Rolan…I want to feel more,” your pant

“Here?” The question is raspy and sends shivers through you to your sex.

“Yes.”

Rolan responds by peppering kisses all over you as he quickly gathers your skirt around your hips. Bending over you feel your face burn as you hear is breath hitch,

“F-fuck…” he whispers

You're already bare opting for no underwear, a destination you made on a meer whim but are happy with now. A whimper escapes him as he views you slick and puffy cunt for him, in a deep dialect he mutters something you can not understand that causes your slit to quiver. he no longer has patience his want takes control and you hear his frantic hands undoing his belt.

The moment is eager and full of hunger, the want between you two building to this moment of passion. Rolan has your skirts gathered in a fist as he pushes his burning erection through you making your head spin. The moment is raw and hungry as he hisses from your walls so tight and soft around him, fuck, nobody told him how…soft humans were…

The feeling of the stretch is eye-watering as a lewd moan erupts from your throat, then the feeling of every ridge sliding and reshaping your velvet insides. The curve of his cock brings his sharp tip to find your sensitive spot, nudging and coating it in his burning precum, your toes curl in your heels as your vision blurs, tightening your grip on the oak desk. It's hot, intense, and the best pleasure you have ever felt.

Rolan whimpers and moans as he pushes into your heat further. His face comes down to bury himself into your neck grunting in what sounds more like a whine. Sweat is sheening both of you now in this heated moment your only reprieve of coolness is his panting breath on your neck. Then his hand comes down to yours bracing you and he intervenes his fingers with yours before he gives a final thrust, his blazing tip now nudging on the deepest parts of you. Your slit is taut and your insides flutter against him as you get accustomed to his rigged girth.

“Gods, you feel amazing. Practically sucking me in…” his rich voice rasps into your ear making you shudder.

Taking a second to breathe in the scent of your sweaty neck and your cascading hair; further getting drunk off you. He rolls his hips back, and the drag of his ridges on your gummy walls is an unimaginable pleasure making you arch in a scream to your god.

Pulling to the tip it’s only a second of emptiness before his hips are snapping back into you forcing all the air from your lungs. Continuing to thrust into you back and forth at a constant pace, you mew and grip his hand so tightly. Your arousal drips down his cock and your thighs as it's fucked out of you, desperate to coat his cock.

“Their mighty hero…sweating and dripping for me. You're my girl…you have always been…”

You can’t even think coherent thoughts only able to respond by arching your back further. The room is drowned in your cock drunk moans and his deep growling as your pussy continues to get ravished by him. Hot waves start to build up in your stomach leaving tingles in their wake as you approach your ecstasy. Rolan feels your trembling against his cock making him angle it in deeper. He’s right in his sentiment…you are his…as he is yours…the bond you share led to this moment of passion—the ultimate satisfaction of the want you have for each other.

It's bliss and you rock your hips to meet his thrust, a chuckle escapes him before you feel the rough dragging being rewarded to your clit. It's warm and soft with lines of ridges dragging against you. It only dawns on you as you feel its spaded tip you realize he’s grinding his tail against your sticky sex. Both sensations make spots blur your vision as drool begins to pool in your agape mouth.

In a silent scream, your orgasm crashes over you as all your essences coats him dripping down to fall on his boots and pooling to the floor. Rolan guides you through your high not stopping his thrust while your sex desperately grips him. A ring of creamy arousal forms where you both connect. The sight and feel of your overstimulated pussy fluttering is enough to cause his hips to still and his cock to throb shooting blissfully hot cum in thick spurts, filling you to the brim. The growl is guttural and vibrates through him as he comes down from his high.

Rolan presses his forehead to your shoulder blades as he stays within you for a moment longer letting his ridges smooth as his cock softens till finally pulling out. You can feel the mix of both releases leaking down your legs uncomfortably resisting the urge to beg him to finger it back in.

“Wait one moment,” he says quickly with a soothing rub to your waist as you hear him digging around for his discarded jacket.

Then very gently you feel a soft cotton cloth whipping you down to clean you. Soft ‘shhs’ and coos leave his lips and he is careful over your spet sex. He takes his time, then once you're cleaned and your dress is back down you face his back as he cleans himself, looking over his shoulder with a smile as he retucks himself. Leaning back against the desk you relish in watching him rebutton himself up so elegantly.

His golden eyes stay on you as he gently caresses your sweaty face. Before he leaves he will snap his figures with a spell to clean you two of any lewd residue, but for now, he wants to relish your afterglow. You two stay in silent bliss and his eyes roam over your face, your fingers gently playing with the loose strains of his hair. He’s the first to speak up,

“I want to court you properly.”

Your eyes grow wide, and so does your smile, your heart racing, and sparks burst into your stomach.

“If you were planning to court me, we have already messed up. You're not supposed to have sex beforehand.”

“I don’t care; I’m not of noble blood, so I will do this my way.” there's that confidence.

Rolan pulls you in for a slow kiss that causes your heart to flip and your head to cloud in a pleasant fog.

“Good,” you whisper

Rolan backs up slightly and bows, causing you to giggle as he reaches for your hand. Placing your hand in his, you gently squeeze it as he brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly like a suitor would any proper lady.

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wutheringcaterpillar · 8 months ago

Note

Hey! I’m wondering if you’d be willing to write a fic where Thomas is intending for John to marry Y/N to unite the Lees and the Shelbys like the show, but when he sees her the first time, he changes his mind on John marrying her. Instead he marries her

Warnings: smut, loss of virginity, altered storyline, Tommy’s a sweety, p in v , oral if you blink, altered storyline, name calling, slight misogyny

thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!

Tommy and John were sat awaiting your arrival, expecting you any moment now. John went on and on about how you were back in grade school, none of that really mattering to Tommy in the slightest.

The door opened, a brisk wind rolling in, pushing your hair in front of your face, your innocent vanilla scent flowing into the booth, as you flipped your hair behind your shoulder.

Tommy shifted uncomfortably at your beauty and grace. Your tone was soft, and a smile as bright as the sun, he couldn’t allow his brother to marry you, not with a face like that.

Dropping your bag near the booth, Tommy couldn’t take his eyes off of you, helping you pick up your belongings from the floor. When you thanked the man for helping, you locked eyes with him, an immediate attraction being drawn to you from those crystal blue eyes.

“Thomas Shelby, pleasure to meet you.” When the handsome, intimidating man spoke, a thrill of attraction and desire rushed through your veins like a hurricane, time suddenly seemed to be irrelevant, along with the man you were arranged to marry.

“Y/N L/N. Likewise.” He motioned for you to sit, offering one of the many cigarettes he carried in his suit. When you declined, mentioning how you don’t smoke Tommy was stunned and intrigued.

Everyone smoked in the garrison, it was hard to find a woman that didn’t.

Taking your seat beside John, you straightened your back, folding your hands gracefully, fully prepared for any questions that may come your way.

John smirked, glancing down at the clear cleavage, your bra barelt holdimg in you breasts, he nodded toward Tommy to take a glance but he’d never disrespect a woman in that manner. He simply began conversation, asking where you lived, went to school, even personal things such as a family matters. He was a fair man, offering the same respect back, his voice brooding but in a good, hospitable way.

“John, do you mind if I take lovely Y/N here to the bar and make her a drink.” John hadn’t barely heard Tommy speak as he was joking around with Finn. Simply waving you both off, they chattered on, making you contemplate on whether or not John was fit to be a husband.

Tommy noticed the quizzical expression on across your face, intending to turn that frown into a smile.

“What’s it going to be my dear? Whiskey? Gin? No, something is telling me you are a rum and coke girl?” His eyebrows raised, furrowing together in curiosity with the expectation and hopefulness that he was right. You couldn’t contain the rose petal blush paint your cheeks, glancing down in embarassment and moving a wild strand of hair behind your ear.

“How’d you know?”

“Just a lucky guess. Some say I’ve been gifted with the ability to read people. You seem like a smart girl Y/N, what type of hobbies do you indulge in, surely everyone has at least one.” Settling your purse down, you watched as he worked effortlessly behind the bar, topping off you drink with a whip cream which surprised you, most people found it odd, never having seen anyone do so yourself.

“Oh I- I enjoy reading, and occasionally shopping, a girl can never have too many clothes.” Tommy chuckled, staying behind the bar and lighting a cigarette, in that moment he knew you were too good for John. He wasn’t a saint himself but he wad far more mature and caring compared to his little, reckless brother.

“Well from my perception, you look very endearing, and well, stop me if this is too much but you’re quite beautiful Y/N, my brother’s very lucky to have you.” You waved him off, giggling like a school girl but Tommy never took his eyes off of you, entranced by your illuminating smile, and adorable laugh. There was a silence for a moment when you realized that perhaps Tommy felt the same way you were feeling. The goosebumps on your skin, the heart beat between your thighs, trying to evade the temptation, the profound want to be in bed with that ever charming smile, and angelic blue eyes, and those lips, those plump, pale lips that you wanted to kiss right there.

How was this powerful man already under your skin in such a small amount of time, was it the way he took interest in your life? The way his subtle gaze seemingly never broke away from you? Or perhaps his way of words, speaking with finesse and confidence, never once stuttering.

John approached the bar breaking the evident friction between you two. Your smile faded when he wrapped his arm behind your shoulders, pulling you in closely to his body heat.

“How’s everything love? He isn’t scaring you is he?” You shook your head no, staying quiet and biting your lip attempting to hold back from laughing when Tommy raised his eyebrows challengingly, playfully as if he wasn’t making you more comfortable than his brother.

“Alright well, Arthur and I are going to go to a few pubs, see what kind of trouble we can get into tonight before the big night, if you know what I mean Tommy.” He winked at his older brother who didn’t seem the least bit impressed. Had he really just said that right in front of you? Reassuring you’d be alright here and be heading home in a little bit, Johnny bid you both goodbye, finishing off your rum and coke on his way out. How rude.

Scoffing, Tommy made you a new drink.

“You’ll have to allow me to apologize for my brother he can be quite- What’s the word I’m looking for? Oblivious sometimes.” A wave of relief washed over you when you were alone with Tommy once more, even the patrons in the bar clearing out for the night.

The palpable tension in the room magnetized when his charismatic eyes remained on you, the heat building beatween your legs, but you weren’t going to be the one to just come out and say it. Like Tommy always did best, he took the initiative, clearing the silence.

“Do you want to fuck me, Y/N?” He raised his eyebrows expectedly, his eyes searing into your soul as he handed you your drink, his fingers grazing over the softness of your fingers.

Stunned by his question, you couldn’t deny the electric current of desire running through your veins. Your eyes searched one another in question, the intensity of his dominance protruding you very being.

“I-I suppose I would but- I must inform you I’ve never really-“

“There’s no need to fret Y/N. I’ll go slow, I wish to spend as much time with you as I can, if you’ll have me that is.” Were you really about to do this? This wasn’t the girl that you were but Tommy was so enticing, and held a clear attraction toward you. You’ve heard many stories of Thomas Shelby, yet you found yourself following him out to the car as he held an umbrella over you, not looking back once.

As soon as the bedroom door closed his lips were on you as he hoisted you up onto the dresser. Hands caressing your bare thighs while your legs wrapped around his torso, melting into his fiery touch. He tasted of whiskey and mint, smelling of a subtle yet timberwood like scent. Your tongues collided with one another in disparity, your nightgown strap sliding down carelessly in the process.

“You are an enchantress, my darling.” You unbuttoned his shirt, pushing yourself up as you walked one another still embraced toward the bed.

Unclasping your bra, Tommy relished in that sight of your bare, nude breasts. They were everything he had imagined, soft, rounded, delectable enough that he couldn’t waste another moment with having his lips on your enlarged nipples. Sucking the sensitive skin, lapping his tongue repeatedly as you moaned from the touch.

“Feels good Tommy. I need more. Please.” Begging already? You felt pathetic but didn’t care and neither did he when he pulled you onto the bed.

“Your wish is my command, love.” He layed you down gently on the white sheets, your hands skimming his muscular chest as he fumbled hastily to take his shirt off before diving back into your lips with a deep desire.

His eyes never left you, drawn into the perfection of your skin, the way your nude body gleamed poetically beneath him in the dim light.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to-“

“Yes. Yes I’m sure I don’t want to waste another minute, I need you in me Tommy.” That was all the reassurance he needed to hear. When he undid his belt and tugged his pants down his member popped up, perky and ready. He was long, and rather wide, partially shaven, but that didn’t matter to you. Tommy could see the nervous worry in your eyes when they landed on his cock, but he needed you to understand he wasn’t one to rush such a big, personal decision.

Laying his hand caringly on your cheek, he looked into your eyes, demanding your attention so you knew he wasn’t kidding.

“I know it may seem a bit frightening but I assure you, we go at your pace. If you want me to stop tell me, okay?” You nodded, and then again when he motioned toward your white laced panties. When he slid them down your legs, you turned your head in embarrassment, always holding a tremendous insecurity for your appearance downstairs. Tommy on the other was blown away at the sight of your untouched pussy.

“May I?” You nodded for him to continue, fully trusting him. His tongue glided between your wet lips, devouring your sweet rose, taking you by surprise and shedding the insecurity from your skin. “You have nothing to be ashamed of love. It’s perfect, and tastes exquisite.” You blushed as he continued to eat you, waiting for your nectar to slowly seep out, for him to start prepping you. When his finger entered you there was a slight discomfort, you’d never gone down there yourself but Tommy took his time and focused on your body language. After a few moments he entered a second finger, your tight walls surrounding his digits, coating them with your slick. There was a slight pleasurable feeling from feeling so full. He fingered you for a few minutes until he deemed you ready.

“Are you ready love?” You nodded that i was okay, and he kissed you once more reassuringly. He was slow upon entering, his cock aligned with your gaping, eager hole, the head resting there for a few seconds so you were aware of what was to come. He slowly pushed his head in, protruding your virgin walls, inch by inch. He stopped halfway in when you winced in pain, wanting to give you time to adjust.

“Focus on my voice. The pain will dissipate soon, tell me when you want me to go further.” After a few seconds, you relaxed your muscles, nodding for him to continue. When he was all the way in there was a sharp shot of pain from being stretched from his cock and your cherry now being popped.

Your eye fluttered close as he slowly pumped in and out of you tenderly, taking his time until you were comfortable for him to fasten his pace. The pain slowly subsiding as your inner walls calmed.

“Faster.” When you spoke it was but a whisper, Tommy understood. His shaft fucked into you quickly, the head of his cock slamming into your cervix with each thrust.

“Fuck Tommy! More… Oh fuck.” Your boobs jiggled with each powerful thrust, but you needed to be closer somehow. Sitting up and you straddled his lap never breaking from the bonding of his cock.

Your hands grazed over the muscular tone of his back, wanting, needing to be closer to him. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his lips curling over the wamrth of your bare skin, tongue twirling as he kissed you with profound passion. You continued to ride his cock, hips rotating and grinding, until an unexplainable, euphoric feeling began to build in your pussy.

Tommy knew what was coming and held you close to him, wanting you to know he was right there, riding your orgasm out with you. Holding you caringly and rubbing soothing circles into your back as you crumbled and came undone with one another. After a moment, you lifted your head in a fucked out melody, running your thumb down his bottom lip and staring into his sapphire eyes. In that moment Tommy didn’t know what came over him, but he knew what had to be said. He couldn’t let you go.

“Marry me.”

“What?” You were stunned by his statement but stayed folded against him lazily, your knees to weak to move from out of his lap.

“What about John?”

“He’ll understand. He will, but who would I be as a man be to fuck you and let a pretty girl like you fall from my hands. I can be a good husband if you give me the chance.” As your breathing slowed down, Tommy’s seed flowed from your deflowered pussy, wetting his thigh making you laugh and apologize before giving him answer but it didn’t take you long to think.

“I will marry you, I just ask we let John down gently. I don’t want to be the cause of his pain.” At that moment the door flew open, Tommy was quick to pick the comforter up from the floor and shield your nude body. He was ready to start yelling until he recognized the man standing in the door to be his brother.

“What the fuck is going on here? That’s my fucking wife to be!” John went to rip the blanket from you in a furious rage but Tommy was faster, standing up and pushing his brother back out into the hallway, nothing but a sheet around his waist hiding his cock. John could be heard screaming obscenities, mostly pointed at you as Tommy pushed him into another room.

“She’s a fucking whore! A disgusting tramp who knows no fucking boundaries! And you! You fucked my girl Tommy! You can’t just steal my bride to be. How fucked is that! No- How fucked is it that the people closest to you are the ones who take the knife and twist in your fucking back!” Tommy pulled open a drawer, lighting a cigarette and remaining calm as John continued to yell at him.

“You can have the fucking cunt! Go ahead, see what I care!”

“She wasn’t right for you Johnny. Not with a face like that. Don’t take it personal eh? You’ll marry someone else instead. Besides knowing you as well as I do, you’ll be on to the next one in no time won’t you Johnny boy?” John rolled his eyes, scrunching his nose and closing his fists in anger before he punched a hole in the drywall. Tommy merely stood by the window, not feeling the least bit sorry as he knew his brother and he knew him well. Within a week he’d be passed it, forgotten about you and the betrayal of your short lived relationship. The only thing on Tommy’s mind was returning to you, surely John’s words had upset you immensely.

When the big day finally arrived, it was like a scene out of the movies. The reception was held in the backyard, the aisle covered in pebbles, white rose flowered bushes running down the perimeter of the wooden benches, the sun setting poetically behind the silver laced altar.

Friends and families gathered round, coming together for your day since Tommy may or may not have threatened some to be there for you, but he wasn’t going to tell you that. Now here you were seated with Ada while she was finishing up your makeup, and hair.

“What do you suppose the boys are doing right now?” Ada chuckled, whimsically, looking at her work in the mirror, trying to lighten the nerves you were feeling, but that question alone seemed to make you more anxious.

“Getting a long I hope. I do feel sorry for John, I just hope he can forgive us. We didn’t mean to hurt him.” Ada remained friendly, never entering the crossfire of her brother unless absolutely necessary. She could only give you advice, and be there as not a friend but a sister should.

Tommy was suited in his formal attire, looking out all the people chatting near the garden when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.” John entered the room, a delicate expression running over his face, showing he wasn’t here to cause any harm. Tommy nodded toward the desk, sitting in his seat and pouring his brother a glass of whiskey.

“You probably need this more than me.” John chuckled sincerely, not knowing how to start this conversation. Tommy could tell he was uncomfortable, a look of guilt just barely visible in his eyes. Shaking his head, he joined his hands together, motioning toward the ring the bearer still had to come and retreive.

Upon opening the velvet box, John was in shock, the dazzling rock shimmering in the sunlight. The ring itself had to of been far more than John’s own personal cut from the company, which told him Tommy must have taken the time to close deals and make investments. In that moment he understood Tommy cared for you more than he ever did, he would have never spent that amount of money on you, or anyone for that matter.

“She likes diamonds you know?” John shook his head indeed not knowing that small fact about you because he never took the time. He never had any interest or care to ask, to really get to know you. Closing the box, he frowned, reminiscing back to the fight just last week he had with you both. He was ashamed, and knew he could have handled it better.

“I came to apologize Tom. I acted immaturely and I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those terrible things. You guys look happy, she chose the right man.” Tommy chuckled, lighting a cigarette and tossing one to John.

“All is forgiven brother but I’m not the one that requires an apology. You can be a good man John, I believe that I do. But with the right woman.” Tommy left it at that, believing in his brother that he would speak with you before the wedding was to begin. John nodded understandingly, knowing Tommy was right, leaving no room for him to argue. All this hatred, anger, where were these emotions getting him? No where.

Glancing down at his watch, he bid Tommy goodbye, making his way to your dressing room.

A knock at the door startled you as you were putting on your heels, worried it was Tommy you sent Ada to the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s John.” Ada turned to face you for answer. When you nodded she opened the door and excused herself from the room.

“Wow.” John was impressed with the workings of Ada, you looked truly breath taking, nothing he’s ever seen before in a woman. Smiling sweetly, you motioned for him to sit.

He twiddled his thumbs, nervously searching for the right words, but he didn’t really know where to start, so he went with the first thought in his mind.

“I’m sorry. I was out of my fucking head speaking about you like that. My brother, he’s a good man, the better man. Besides we never really had a connection did we?” You shook your head no in agreement, thankful John came to apologize, but you also shared your feelings of how you and Tommy should have just sat down with him before anything happened. He accepted your apology, but noticed you were due outside in five minutes. Bidding you farewell, he wished you luck and told you, you’d make a great wife and Tommy is lucky to have you, he needed you.

Ada knocked on the door, informing you it was time. Taking a deep breath you met your father at the patio door, a mixture of happiness and excitement protruding your ever bone.

Family and friends stood up, your mother crying from how beautiful and elegant you appeared. When you reached the alter, a singular tear swam down Tommy’s cheek as he smiled widely when he removed your vail. You were stunning, breathtaking, everything he’s ever dreamed about. John stood by his side as a groomsmen, happy to finally see his older brother smile for once. As the vows were exchanged. The ring beamed with an exquisite beauty, your eyes brimming with tears when Tommy placed the expensive jewelry on your finger, claiming you as his wife.

“Tommy it’s beautiful.” You were hoping and praying your makeup wasn’t running down your cheeks. As vows were exchanged, the man motioned that it was time to kiss the bride. Tommy rested his hands on your cheeks, time stopping when he placed his lips on yours as the man announced you to be Mrs. Tommy Shelby.

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #ranaewrites #peaky blinders #requested

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doctorwhoandfairytaillover · 16 days ago

Text

Loving Arms (6)

Summary: The children of Viserys I from his wife Alicent Hightower had always been lacking in affection from their parents. They simply didn't realize how much until their widowed aunt was brought into their lives. (AU where Alicent has an older sister and her kids get the love that they deserve, takes place some time after the Driftmark event)

Part VI: A Ring of Green

|| Loving Arms Masterlist ||

A/N: I sometimes struggle giving multiple characters dialogue, so I thought why not give each of the kids their own focused chapters or moments. Hope you all enjoy this part and leave a comment! I love to hear from all of you.

"Muña, would this not be easier if we did all of this by dragon instead of horseback?" Aegon whined.

"I will not have you and your siblings become layabout nobles," she replied. "This hunt is meant to put in practice your skills with the bow, equestrianship, and to learn how to skin and prepare the game that you catch. We will not be the kind of people that forget the work that is put into having a meal on our table, is that understood?"

Aegon whined a bit more with a pout.

"I don't understand whines, I need an articulate response."

The boy huffed once more, "Yes, muña. But why is it only the two of us? Why are Aemond and Halaena allowed to wait for us at the camp?"

"They will join us tomorrow but I thought this would give us time on our own to talk about whatever you like, my sweet love."

"Whatever I like? No judgement or scolding?"

"Now I question if I should scold you if that is the response," she laughs.

He frowned, "It's just... I am sure that in your time away from King's Landing that you must have heard a thing or two about all of us and I can not help but imagine of all that you must think of us. Me in particular."

"I will admit, I have heard a thing or two while in Dorne but that does not mean that I have a fully colored image of who you are" she sighed. "And if we are being sincere, I felt many things about all that I heard regarding you."

Aegon looked away in shame, "I see. And what was it exactly?"

"Pity," she shrugged. "A bit of anger, but not at you, anger at your Mother and Grandsire. Mostly I felt that I wanted to protect you but I was uncertain how to go about it. There was some helplessness as well since my husband had fallen ill and could not come to visit sooner."

"Did you not feel shame for having a lily - liver'd and slow nephew? I'm not the Realms Delight or even worthy of being considered heir" he said bluntly.

"Is that truly what you think of yourself?"

"How else am I to think of myself, muña? Mother and Grandsire are always so quick to point out my flaws and my tutors never said it, but I could sense that they thought of me as a hapless fool."

His aunt pulled at the reigns of her horse to slow the beast down to trot alongside Aegon's own horse. "Let me ask you something, and when I ask it, I need you to be completely honest with me."

"What?"

"You said that you aren't the Realm's Delight, who was given this monicker?"

Aegon looked confused, "Rhaenyra? Who else?"

"When was she given this title? And by who?"

The boy thought for a moment, uncertain as he said "My Father? It is something I have always heard said of Rhaenyra. But why is that relevant?"

"Aegon, I need you to listen closely" she said. "She was given this monicker when she was a child of eight years, simply because courtiers thought her to be sweet and beautiful." She pointed at him with a short laugh, "You are a handsome young man, quick - witted when you choose to be, and amongst a variety of courtiers and diplomats. If you gave a smile and a few well placed laughs to certain nobles, it wouldn't be long until the perception of you has changed."

"Do you want me to behave like a clay - brained, sodden - witted fool? A smile and a few laughs aren't enough to change anything" he scowled. "It would be better to run off to Essos and live a life of comfort than have to grovel for even a modicum of respect from the likes of the court vultures."

She clench her jaw in mild frustration, "I am not asking you to do anything that is more than you are capable of Aegon. I am saying that the tides can be changed with a few things, because do you think that Rhaenyra can hold onto her title for much longer?"

"Muña, you are treading a dangerous line."

"If we ever wish to see change in our lives, sweet love, then the line must be trod whenever we see the opportunity given."

The young prince was mildly frustrated and hoped to change the subject entirely, and to his good fortune in the distance Aegon spotted a buck of a substantial size.

"I think we can drop the topic, muña because I intend on catching that buck!" and with a snap of his reigns, Aegon sped forward.

His aunt sighed with a wry smile and chased after the boy and buck, "He can try all he likes but we'll finish this talk whether he likes it or not!"

The aunt and nephew duo had managed to catch up swiftly to the buck, an arrow from Aegon was able to slow it down but it was a swift arrow behind the elbow of the buck's lead leg from (Y/N) that brought the great beast down. She had the young man strap the buck on his own so that they could quickly return to camp and skin it and prepare it for consumption later.

Rather than have Aemond and Halaena take part in the preparation of the meat, their aunt was quick to have them set off with their guards to prepare the fire and find herbs that could be used. Allowing for Aegon and herself to have more time to continue their discussion.

"Have at it" she said handing Aegon her sharpened knife. "Slice along the beasts belly and let us finish our talk."

"What is there -" he struggled to cut through the flesh "To talk about. We said all that need - needed to be said."

She pointed at the spot he finished cutting, "Stick your hands in and pull out the intestines. Aegon, don't make that face."

He scowled in disgust, "I don't want to take out the intestines that is disgusting."

"What's more disgusting is this attitude" she said. "Now take out the intestines before they swell and implode, it would contaminate the rest of the venison. And don't think because we caught this stupid thing, it means I will drop our subject from earlier."

Begrudgingly, he did as he was told and plopped the bloody organs into a bucket beside the table in which they were preparing the meat. She took the dagger from him and carefully began to remove the fur from the meat while rolling it up.

"You think to - " she cut further and handed him back the knife "to little of yourself Aegon. Keep skinning."

Shakily he did so.

"I know that you have heard things and taken them to heart because no one has said this otherwise, but I truly think that you could accomplish great things. If and only if we work together to find the things that you could put your time into, not simply because it is expected of you."

"You will be sorely disappointed muña, because I have had tutors that gave up long ago."

Gently she pushed the boy aside and took another dagger to help him skin faster, "Your previous tutors lacked creativity to trod the line and failed to consider that you learn better with other methods. Not everyone can read a text and execute the knowledge, some of us do better by example and practice." She pointed her blade toward the half finished deer carcass, "Or do you mean to tell me that you knew how to skin this beast until now?"

He flushed in embarrassment, "I suppose I hadn't thought about it. The letters of texts have always jumped and I was always forced to sit for hours until I finished what was given."

"It might surprise you Aegon, but your uncle Gwayne has the same condition" she chuckled. "He was never much for sitting still at a desk and couldn't get through a page without the letters mixing around. Thankfully our Uncle noticed and found other ways that Gwayne excelled, making my brother quite the formidable swordsman and knight."

Aegon chewed at his bottom lip in thought, "Is it possible then? For me to truly be accomplished? Even if it isn't in the areas that my Mother and Grandsire want?"

"It is why I argued with your Father" she said. "I knew that there were expectations but I know that together we can create reasonable goals that can lay the way towards a future you want to reach." Setting aside the blade in her hand, (Y/N) washed her hands free of the blood from skinning the deer and dried them quickly.

"If you really think that I can muña, then I would like to try, please?"

Gently and lovingly she cupped his face in her hands, "All I want is for you to try. Don't give up because others say that you cannot or because they have set the limits for you."

"It's difficult when all your life it feels that everyone is waiting for you to make the next mistake," he teared up and pressed into her embrace. "I already think that about myself every day that I awake."

"Sweet love, can you look at me?"

Nervously his eyes met her own.

Slowly she reached into the pocket of her skirt and procured a ring to show it at his eye level. Its stone was a yellow green peridot, the prongs were a bronze while the rest of the ring was a faded silver.

"I know that perhaps I pushed quite a bit at some of your boundaries today," she began. "But the main reason I had your brother and sister do other things today was because of this." Carefully she took one of his hands and placed the ring onto his palm, "Aegon? Would you be my heir?"

His eyes widened and he looked at her in shock, "You want me to be your heir?"

"In the grand scheme of things, I don't have quite as much to my name but I am asking you, my sweet Aegon if you would be my heir? I am giving you a choice, become the boy that they wish for you to be or the man that I know you can become with the right guidance."

He sniffled softly, "My Father wanted a son but has never wanted me. The realm has their flawless heir and despite all this, somehow you want me? Flaws and all to be your heir?"

"The choice is yours."

With a teary laugh, Aegon put the ring of green onto his pointer finger in admiration. "I hope you know that you are never getting this back, muña."

"And I would never ask, sweet love. It absolutely suits you."

There was no fanfare from trumpets, cheers from adoring peasants or nobles, and certainly no flowers tossed in the air. But in that moment; the muggy tent, sticky entrails, and slightly too big ring were enough for the young prince.

Someone he loved had chosen him.

And for him, that was enough.

#x reader #x reader insert #house of the dragon x reader #x aunt reader #aegon x reader #aemond x reader #platonic #helaena x reader #loving arms series #aegon ii fanfic #halaena fanfic #aemond fanfiction

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dancingbirdie · 1 year ago

Text

Behold my labor of love: Astarion SMUT.

This idea came to me after writing my last fic Something Imagined / Something Real. I wanted to backtrack and reimagine Astarion and Tav's first night together after the tiefling party.

If smut is not your thing, no worries! You can scroll down to the first set of asterisks (***) to avoid reading those parts. You don't miss much at all plot-wise.

This is my first time ever writing smut. Please be kind. And I hope you enjoy!

EDIT: This is a flashback fic! Part 2 is Something Imagined / Something Real. And subsequent vignettes to come!

I Want It To Be You

Rating: Mature/NSFW

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: Detailed description of consensual sex, Tav's first time having sex, descriptions and references to Astarion's trauma/trauma responses, description of panic attack/anxiety, minor Act 1 and Act 2 spoilers, FLUFF, angst

“Are you absolutely certain about this? About… me?”

If she weren’t already lying naked in his arms, she would have shed her clothes for him for that response alone. He wasn’t treating her like some oddity. And he was honoring her decision. It was more than anything Tav had dared hope for.

Her eyes welled with tears that threatened to fall. She laughed, suddenly elated, before nodding her head vigorously.

“I’m sure, Astarion,” she confirmed. “I want this to be with you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TWO WEEKS AGO

THE NIGHT OF THE TIEFLING PARTY

Let’s wait until things quiet down. Once the others are asleep, we’ll find each other.

Astarion’s parting words replayed over and over again in her head as she padded quietly through the woods, away from the campsite. From the comfort and familiarity of the party. They hadn’t agreed on a meeting place, but Tav assumed his heightened senses would locate her soon enough. She was grateful for the extra moments to herself. Her stomach was knotted from nerves and anticipation for what the night might bring.

She hadn’t told him that she was a virgin. He probably deserved to know, she realized that, but she hadn’t wanted him to change his mind just because he’d be taking something no one else had before. It was her choice, her body to give, she reasoned to herself. Whether for the first time or the hundredth time, it shouldn’t matter. Right?

Her past experiences certainly influenced her reticence. Divulging that particular information about herself had resulted in people immediately halting romantic pursuits with her, or leering at her like she was some sort of top-shelf prize they were about to take home. She didn’t want to know if, or where, Astarion might land on that spectrum. Didn’t think her heart could take either reaction from him. Besides, she’d read enough of those dirty romance tomes and scrolls throughout her life (for educational purposes, of course, she justified to herself) to have a general understanding of what happens during sex. Surely she could bluff her way through this. Right?

She wanted to please him. Wanted him to want her as much as she wanted him. It was no secret that Astarion had quickly become her favorite companion in this unlikely band of heroes she was traveling with. He was absolutely gorgeous, of course, but the longer she lingered around him, the less that seemed to matter. He was funny, in a devilish sort of way. Intelligent and cunning. Perceptive. And, while it was obvious that it unsettled the rest of the group, she genuinely appreciated how he prioritized his own self before bending over backwards to help someone else. Secretly, she wished she could emulate that a bit more in her own life, but years and years of people pleasing to win what scraps of affection she could was a hard habit to break.

Clearly she was no closer to doing so, as there she stood. In the middle of a forest. Preparing for a midnight tryst with a person she had just met but grown to genuinely care for. And she wasn’t even sure that he would, or wanted to, return her sentiments.

“There you are. I’ve been waiting.”

Astarion’s voice broke the mundane quiet of the forest that had lulled her into such ruminations. She turned toward the direction she had heard him speak and marveled at the sight of him slipping gracefully between the trees, moving ever slowly toward her.

He had removed his shirt and was clad only in his leather breeches and boots. His alabaster skin practically glowed in the silvery light of the moon. He was the most beautiful person Tav thought she had ever laid eyes on, and it wasn’t only because she could now see the taut, sinewy muscles of his abdomen. He was perfectly fit in an elegant sort of way. Not like Halsin, with large bulging biceps, thick torso and sturdy legs. No, Astarion was like a leopard. Lithe, agile, regal even. And his face. Gods, the poets and painters could opine for centuries on his beautiful face without ever growing weary.

“Is that so?” Tav called out in reply, walking to close the distance between them. By her estimate, she sounded much braver than she felt. Good.

Astarion nodded, raising one hand to cup her cheek. “Waiting since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting to have you,” he finished, the pad of his thumb grazing sensually across her lower lip.

“You don’t have me yet,” she whispered teasingly, although both of them were clearly aware of how she had shivered when he touched her. How her head bowed into his touch, like a lovesick little thing.

“Don’t I?” he smirked. “You’re here. And I don’t think you want to talk.” He stepped closer, completely absolving them both of any personal space. His free hand came to rest along the curve of her waist.

“I think you want to be known. To be tasted.” He purred, lowering his head so that his lips ghosted the shell of her ear while he spoke.

Tav was thankful for the steadiness of his hands on her. His insinuations alone were quickly rendering her a quaking mess. But she didn’t want to be a selfish lover, and so she collected herself enough to pose a question in return.

“What do you want, Astarion?” she asked, bringing a hand to rest softly against his chest, over his heart.

She noted the way his brows drew down briefly, seeming almost confused by her question. But as quick as it came, the expression vanished, replaced by something much more confident. More assertive.

“What do any of us want?” he breathed. “Pleasure. Yours. Mine. Our collective ecstasy.”

Gently, so very gently, he began to trail hot, open-mouth kisses down the column of her neck. Tav’s breath caught audibly in her throat, and Astarion hummed in approval at her response.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?,” he murmured into the crook of her neck. “To lose yourself in me?”

It was fast becoming difficult for her to string two thoughts together. Astarion touching her like this sent shockwaves throughout her body. That curious heat she’d only known from touching herself began to kindle low in her belly. She clenched her thighs together subconsciously, trying to sate that feeling the fire was stirring up inside her. Astarion noticed her squirming, to his immense satisfaction.

“Well?” he coaxed in between kisses across her collarbone. His prompting reminded Tav that she had yet to answer his question, so lost was she in the feeling of his cool lips against her rapidly warming skin.

“I want to be with you. Share this night with you,” she answered honestly, unable to spare enough brain capacity to consider whether or not it was a good idea to be so forthcoming.

“Such a charitable little thing,” he chuckled. “How could I deny you?”

And then his mouth captured hers. It was a searing, passionate kiss. A kiss that promised so much more pleasure to come. One that Tav had never known before, despite having partaken in her fair share of kisses over the years. But this kiss? This was the kiss of time-fated lovers. And Tav was desperate to match Astarion’s pace, desperate to feel more, more, more.

She moaned as he ran his tongue lightly against the seam of her lips, granting him entry to fully sweep in and plunder her mouth proper. Her fingers carded through his silvery blonde curls, nails scraping lightly against his scalp. He groaned in response, the sound vibrating in her mouth.

She finally was forced to break their kiss after a few moments, hungrily gulping in air to alleviate her starving lungs. Astarion moved to ravage her neck once more, licking and sucking the soft delicate skin there. He gripped her ass possessively as he did so, walking her backwards until he was pressing her into the nearest tree.

He lifted a knee to knock her legs apart before raising it higher to press into the juncture of her thighs. He delighted at how Tav immediately parted her legs for him, how she moaned from the pressure, how she subconsciously began grinding against him.

“Look at you, you naughty thing” he crooned in her ear. “Riding my leg for some relief?”

Primal behavior called out, a scarlet blush immediately bloomed on Tav’s neck and cheeks. It only goaded Astarion further.

“Go on then, darling. Rut against me. But I’m getting these lovely tits free first,” he whispered.

He began undoing the laces on the front of her corset. Tav watched his progress, entranced by the gracefulness of his long, slender fingers. She was nearly trembling with anticipation. Once finished, she helped him extract her from the offending garment and allowed him to lift her chemise up, over her head, so that she was fully bare from the waist up. The cool night air turned her skin to gooseflesh, her nipples hardening.

The sensation roused her lust-addled brain enough to realize just how vulnerable she was, standing there half-naked before him. She’d never been so exposed to another person before. Her fingers fluttered as she fought the sudden bout of nerves that insisted she cover her breasts from view.

“Don’t you dare,” Astarion growled, plainly reading the self-conscious expression on her face. “I’ve been dying to see these for days now,” he continued, cupping one full breast and flicking her nipple lightly with his thumb.

It sent a pulse thrumming directly to her core, and Tav moaned openly at the sensation. She could feel her simple linen breeches were completely drenched, was certain she was also dampening Astarion’s leg as she continued to grind against him.

Astarion chuckled, clearly pleased by her reaction.

“So responsive,” he whispered before lowering his mouth to latch onto her breast. He sucked lightly, while his hand continued its assault on the other. She fisted his hair in one hand, kissing the top of his head lovingly while he worked her into a frenzy.

Tav felt like she was quickly losing any ability to maintain balance. Her body was aching, whining, for more. She wanted to be laid out on the ground, wanted him to press her into the soft earth, taking everything.

“Astarion, please,” she panted, pulling at his curls. He groaned in response, releasing her nipple from his mouth.

“Please what, pet?” he teased, kissing and licking up her sternum.

“I need… more,” she whined, bucking against his leg.

He huffed a laugh before sweeping her up in one smooth motion and lowering her to the soft grass beneath their feet.

He began to loosen the fastenings of her breeches with a practiced ease. Tav watched, breathless, as he slid the fabric down her thighs, his mouth following with indolent, open-mouthed kisses. Each touch of his lips on her heated skin left her skin tingling, her hips canting slightly into the open air.

Finally bare before him, she watched as Astarion surveyed her from where she lay beneath him. In nearly all respects, he looked primed and ready to ravage her. His nostrils flared, detecting the heady scent of her arousal. His chest rose and fell with shallow, ragged breaths. For the first time, she took note of the considerable erection straining against the leathers he still wore.

After a moment, he came down to lie beside her, pulling her onto her side so that her chest was pressed flush against his. He trailed a hand down her side, over the rise and fall of her curves, until he reached her thigh. He hiked her leg onto his hip.

But something was off. Amid her clouded thoughts, Tav thought she could sense it, even if she couldn’t precisely put a finger on it. Perhaps it was the look in his eyes? Or the perfect nature of his behavior? He seemed almost too practiced, too formulaic. Like an actor who’s rehearsed their lines to the point that the words have lost their meaning. He was there with her, but somehow he wasn’t, at the same time.

“Are you all right?” Tav asked in a hushed voice, lifting a hand to cup his neck. She rubbed soothing circles with her thumb across his jawline.

“I’m more than all right, darling,” he replied with a smirk, squeezing her ass lightly.

“You seem like… you’re not wholly present,” she explained.

“It’s difficult to decide what I’d like to do to you first,” he reasoned, sidestepping her unspoken question. “I’m torn between tasting you with my tongue, or fucking you with my fingers,” he smirked.

Before she could respond, his fingers took an experimental swipe between her folds. She gasped at the feeling, her hips bucking against him. She watched, speechless, as he lifted that hand to suck the wetness from his fingers. Her wetness. In his mouth.

He groaned in approval. “Mmm. You’re pure sweetness, darling.”

All thoughts eddied from her mind. A singular, primal focus took over, and she suddenly clutched at Astarion’s neck with newfound ferocity.

He seemed to know exactly how his behavior had affected her, if his impish grin was anything to go by. He lowered his hand to swipe against her once again, his fingers stopping to circle that sensitive bud at the apex of her thighs. Tav jerked in response, but Astarion had been prepared for it. He used his other arm to brace against her back, locking her in place against him.

As she writhed against his hand, he repositioned himself to insert a finger inside her. She was deliciously warm and soaking wet. Soft, like velvet. His thumb continued to circle her clit, eliciting a long, low moan from Tav. Embarrassed, she attempted to muffle her voice by ducking her face into his chest.

He chuckled again. “That’s it, sweet one. Let me hear you,” he goaded her. Her moans pitched higher in response.

After a few moments of pistoning in and out of her, he inserted a second finger. But despite how drenched she was, he met considerable resistance, to his surprise. He stilled his fingers in response, uncertain.

It took a moment for Tav to register that Astarion had stopped moving inside her. Caught somewhere between discomfort and satisfaction, the increased sense of fullness his two fingers brought was strange but not altogether unwelcome. She exhaled, but it came out as more of a hiss than a sigh. After a moment of stillness, she raised her head to look at him.

“What is it?” she questioned..

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” Astarion murmured.

Tav flushed. He’d realized, despite her best efforts to cover up that truth. Absently, she wondered what had given her away.

She said nothing at first, just studied him. He didn’t seem angry. But then again, she had quickly learned that Astarion was very skilled at masking his true feelings.

“No. I haven’t,” she admitted.

At her reply, he gently removed his fingers from inside her. He moved his hand to clutch her hip instead.

She sighed, rolling onto her back, gazing up at the stars. “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

Silence. It felt deafening in her ears. But then –

“I’m a bad choice, darling,” he replied, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly over her hip bone. She failed to see the sad smile that graced his mouth. “A terrible choice, really. For your first time.”

“It’s my decision,” she retorted, lolling her head to the side so she could look him straight in the eyes. “I want it to be you, Astarion. But if this is going to be a… problem for you, or become some ordeal where you feel guilty or weirdly triumphant, then we can just–”

“It’s not a problem for me. It’s your decision,” he affirmed softly, interrupting the beginning of her tirade. Some unknown emotion flitted across his features. He schooled his expression before she could really identify it.

“But I have to ask,” he continued, studying her seriously. “Are you absolutely certain about this? About… me?”

Her eyes welled with tears that threatened to fall. She laughed, suddenly elated, before nodding her head vigorously.

“I’m sure, Astarion,” she confirmed. “I want this to be with you.”

His eyes softened, obviously touched by her response. It was the first time tonight, she realized, that he had appeared vulnerable to her. He was staring at her as though he were seeing her for the first time. Like he couldn’t believe that the woman between his arms was real.

Without another word, he captured her mouth in a passionate kiss. His tongue swept in her mouth at the same time he inserted his fingers again, tasting her gasp of pleasure. His thumb began circling her clit once more, and Tav was powerless to silence her moans.

“Good. So good, sweet girl,” he whispered in her ear after a few moments. “You’re so close.”

She let loose a whine, squeezing her eyes shut as she chased that ever-nearing precipice inside her. Astarion’s voice in her ear only pushed her that much closer.

“That’s it. Come for me,” he urged, and she felt her orgasm rip through her at his words. Stars collided behind her eyes as she tumbled from that cliff of pleasure, Astarion holding her and whispering soft praises as she floated back down to earth.

Eventually her eyes fluttered open to see Astarion smiling openly at her. She felt her lips stretch up to return his grin.

“That was… incredible,” she breathed.

He huffed a soft laugh. “I’m not nearly finished with you. Unless you’d like to sto–”

“No,” Tav blurted, a little too loudly, interrupting him. “No. I want more. Please. Show me.”

“Of course, darling” Astarion promised, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. He gently released her and stood, beginning to remove his own clothing. Tav watched him brazenly, drinking in the sight of him.

She moaned softly as he removed his breeches, his impressive length springing free. He remained still, allowing her to take in the sight of him fully naked before her. Curious, she sat up and lifted a hand to wrap around him. She marveled at the way he felt. Like velvet-wrapped steel. She gave a tentative stroke, thrilling as he groaned in response. She stroked him again, harder, intent on learning how to give him as much pleasure as he’d already given her.

But he stayed her wrist with a gentle touch of his hand. She paused, looking up at him, confused.

“As exquisite as teaching you how to stroke me would be,” he explained in a sultry voice, “I’m much more interested in teaching you something else tonight.”

Tav nodded mutely, lying back once more. She opened her legs for him to return to her. Astarion smiled, lowering himself on top of her. He braced his forearms on either side of her head, one hand absently combing through her hair. His hips fit perfectly in the cradle of her thighs, and she moaned as she felt him gently nudge against her entrance.

“This is going to hurt at first,” he explained in a hushed whisper. She nodded, her breathing a bit uneven in anticipation of what would come next.

“But then it will stop. You’ll stretch around me. And then it will feel good,” he continued.

She nodded again, trying to remain focused on his words. But the primal part of her mind was warring against her. And it was winning. She subconsciously bucked her hips into him, marveling as she felt him slip between her folds just slightly. He hissed at the sensation, clenching his jaw.

“Greedy little thing,” he chastised teasingly. “All right, enough talking. But you will tell me if you need to stop, yes?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I promise.”

“Good girl,” he purred.

And then slowly, gently, he sheathed himself fully inside her with a groan.

Tav gasped in response. It was unlike any feeling she had ever felt before. Astarion had been right; it was painful at first. A pinching sensation. A mind-bending feeling of fullness. But then, but then, the feeling was phenomenal. She felt her walls stretch to accommodate him, felt herself clench around him, accepting him in his entirety.

Astarion’s head dropped to the crook of her neck. His whole body trembled, as if it was taking all his restraint to remain still so she could grow accustomed to him.

She canted her hips into him a bit, testing the waters. He groaned again in response, and she released a breathy chuckle.

He raised his head at the sound, peering down at her. “You little minx,” he breathed. “You have no idea what you’ve started.”

She thrilled at his words, crying out in ecstasy as he began to thrust in and out of her. The pace he set was addicting; the rhythm had her pushing her hips up to meet him, her legs locked around his back to pull him closer.

“You’re taking me so, so well, darling,” Astarion grunted, ratcheting up his pace. “You’re so tight. So. Perfectly. Fucking. Tight.”

His words were a fuel to her flame. She cried out his name again and again as he continued to rut into her, reveling in the feeling of him claiming her completely and totally. She was lost to the sensations, adrift in the fullness of Astarion inside her.

Finally, or perhaps all too soon, she felt his pace begin to grow more erratic. His hips lost their rhythmic pumping. His groans grew louder. Sensing his release was close, Tav clutched him tighter, digging her heels in his back to pull him closer, clenching around his length inside her.

“Yes, yes, FUCK,” he barked all at once, and her eyes rolled back into her head as he slammed himself to the hilt inside of her one final time. She could feel his release spilling inside her.

Lost for words, she simply held Astarion as he half-collapsed on top of her, one arm still braced on the ground beside her head. Listless, euphoric, and utterly at peace, Tav raised one arm to gently caress his back, listening to his erratic breaths slow. Distantly, she noted the raised, rough sensation of scars on his upper back, but she was too consumed by their mutual pleasure to give it a further thought.

Eventually, Astarion slipped out of her. He lowered himself to lie down beside her, curling one arm around her waist.

Tav closed her eyes and curled into his side, suddenly overcome with drowsiness. “Thank you, Astarion” she whispered faintly.

“For what, my darling?” he crooned, tucking an errant curl behind her ear.

“For making my first time so wonderful,” she replied.

She was asleep before he could think of a sufficient response.

***

The panic was a monstrous thing. Clawing at his chest, its vice-like grip squeezing his lungs until inhaling felt like breathing through a reed. He could barely think. Barely move. Barely registered the lovely woman still sleeping peacefully beside him.

The part of his brain that wasn’t frozen in fear chastised himself for behaving this way. He had taken plenty of virgins before. In fact, he had sought them out specifically. They were a much easier prey. They became attached to him so quickly, attributed so much more meaning to their first bout of lovemaking than perhaps more… seasoned individuals.

He should have been elated. She was obviously besotted with him. His plan to ensure her loyalty was moving forward without a hitch. So then why was he feeling so horrible?

He turned to observe Tav. So close to him and yet so far away. Swept into that blissful sleep that continued to elude him. He watched her chest rise and fall with deep, steady breaths. Watched her eyelids twitch as her mind made its way through some dream. She was so very vulnerable in this position. And so very trusting. Of him, of all people.

Astarion didn’t like many people. But he had developed a fondness for Tav, despite the short period of time they had known one another. She treated him like a person, not a monster. Not like the others in their party. She seemed to accept him for who he was, cynicism and vanity and all. He couldn’t remember ever knowing someone as kind to him as she was. She was… incredible.

And then it struck him. He was developing… something… for her. Feelings? Affection? The sentiments were so foreign to him, he didn’t even know what to call it.

But the realization caused panic to clutch him even tighter. No. He couldn’t feel this way. He wouldn’t.

This thing with Tav was purely transactional. It had to be. There was no other viable option. She had needed to feel something with someone. He had needed to secure an ally. That was all.

That is all this is, he thought, quashing the weak sentimental part of his mind.

And come morning, he resolved he would make certain that that was all this was for her as well.

***

Tav woke to the sound of birds chirping, high in the trees above her. The early morning sunlight filtered in through the forest, dappling her skin and warming her in the places that it touched. Opening her eyes, she spied Astarion, already dressed and standing a few paces in front of her.

His back was facing her, his face lifted toward the sun. She noted how he held his arms outstretched by his sides, palms facing up as though he were trying to collect all the sunlight pouring into their little grove. Despite his preternatural sense of hearing, he didn’t seem to be aware that she’d awoken, so lost was he in his enjoyment of the sun’s rays.

Tav’s heart nearly swelled to bursting as she watched him. Before all of this, he hadn’t felt the sunlight on his skin in over 200 years. Now, he was reveling in it. His joy was such an innocent, pure thing.

How many times had Tav taken the sun warming her skin for granted? Probably all of her life, she supposed. To see someone so appreciative of something so utterly mundane to her… well, it was a sobering reminder to acknowledge those little pleasures in life, especially the ones that seemed so constant to her.

She also took the time to study the strange pattern of scars on his back. She had felt some of the rough ridges last night, as she clutched him closer while he spilled himself inside her. But she hadn’t realized just how intricate and intentional the markings were. The sight of them sparked a rage inside her. Whoever the monster was who’d done this to him, they deserved to pay a price worse than death.

Someday soon, she swore she would ask him about those markings. But not today. Not right now. Not in the aftermath of spending such a wonderful night together. No, the only thing she wanted for them both today was to revel in post-coital bliss.

Not wishing to startle him, Tav intentionally laid back to stretch out her blissfully sore muscles, rustling the grass and fallen leaves around her. She threw in a halfhearted yawn for good measure. Secretly, she hoped he would return to her, take her again in this quiet forest, beneath the warmth of the sun.

“You sleep light,” Astarion chuckled, half-turning to speak to her but not meeting her gaze. “I thought you’d be exhausted after last night.”

Tav hesitated at his tone. It wasn’t cold per se, but he sounded much more guarded than he had been last night. Perhaps she was just being extra sensitive in light of what they had shared, she reasoned.

“Did you enjoy it?” she asked hesitantly. She watched his back, waiting for a reply. “It felt like… you weren’t truly there…” she added, after a beat of silence.

“I was… holding back a little, it’s true,” he finally responded. “I didn’t want to lose control. Delicious as you were… I didn’t want to go too far.”

“Oh, I see,” Tav replied, a bit dismayed. “I’m sorry you felt that way.”

Astarion turned and gave her a trademark smirk. “Think nothing of it, darling. Now,” he intoned, clapping his hands together. “Shall we get on? We’ve wasted enough time already.”

The words were like a lance to her heart.

“I… I didn’t consider it a waste,” she murmured, trying with some difficulty to hide her hurt.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Astarion huffed. “I just meant I’d like to break camp and get out of here before those tieflings drag us into another one of their messes.”

“Sure, of course,” Tav nodded, smiling up at him, though it came across as more of a grimace. Then she broke eye contact, bending over under the guise of collecting her discarded clothing. Really, she didn’t think she could look at him a moment longer without crying.

“I still need to dress,” she said, attempting a casual sort of air. “You go ahead without me.”

She sensed rather than saw Astarion hesitate at her suggestion.

“Are you sure? We’re a fair walk from camp. I can spare a few moments and wait.”

“Positive,” she replied with false cheer. “Go on ahead. The last thing either of us need is the party jeering at us if we’d return together.”

“Fair point,” Astarion conceded. “All right. Then… I’ll see you, back at camp.” Then he was walking away, back toward the direction of their fellow party members.

Tav waited until she could no longer hear his footsteps before she let loose a quiet sob. She wasn’t exactly sure why she was crying. Maybe it was just the stress of everything that had finally overwhelmed her. Maybe it was how abysmally this morning had gone. She didn’t know how she’d expected the morning after a sexual tryst to go, but she certainly hadn’t imagined what had just taken place. She hadn’t expected Astarion to slip that aloof mask he wore so well immediately back on, not when it was still just the two of them here.

Then again, she reasoned, perhaps there was a perfectly justifiable reason for his actions. They barely knew one another, after all. He didn’t owe her anything beyond general respect. They hadn’t made any promises or ties to one another. They had simply agreed on a night of pleasure. That night had passed on. She should move on as well. Right?

But she had hoped. Oh, she had hoped. That maybe last night could have been the start of something new for her. For both of them. She knew she was a dreamer at heart. But still, part of her couldn’t help but hope that some silver lining would come out of all of this mess.

In any case, she knew she needed to pull herself together before reentering the camp. She would not let anyone see her cry, especially Astarion. So she remained standing in the grove for a few moments longer, collecting herself.

She forced her mind to focus on anything, anything else. She counted the birds she saw flitting amongst the tree limbs. She watched leaves swirling in their light, airy dance toward the ground. And she said a silent prayer to whatever gods were out there and possibly listening. She prayed that everything would work out the way it was meant to be.

#astarion x tav #astarion x mc #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x f!reader #bg3 astarion fic #tav x astarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion baldurs gate #bg3 fanfiction #dancingbirdiewrites

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babyblue711 · 8 months ago

Text

Surrender

(Modern AU) Aegon II Targaryen x Female!Reader x Aemond Targaryen - Part 2 (read Part 1 Here) Summary: Having spent the week at the Targaryen's countryside estate, you find yourself pulled into an unexpected tryst when Aemond confronts you about your mixed signals. Words: 5K

Warnings: NSFW, Sexual Content 18+, Smut, Language, Alcohol, Threesome, Lots of Sexual Shenanigans A/N: As requested by popular demand, here is Part 2! I think this was the most fun I've ever had when writing a fic. (And please, for the banner, let's pretend Ewan has one eye for Aemond's sake 😅) I hope you all enjoy! 🔥

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Various forms of tension now fill the house and you can’t help but feel responsible. There is a magnetic attraction that lingers in the air between you and Aegon, but your playful text to Aemond had clearly not been well-received; he had never bothered responding and was now resolutely ignoring you. In return, you mirrored his behavior, determined not to let it affect you.

On Sunday morning, Helaena approaches you with an enticing offer: to extend your stay for the entire week. With your laptop in tow, the prospect of working remotely from their opulent estate is exciting, especially since it means you can continue spending time with Aegon.

Luckily, neither Helaena nor Daeron knows about your hookup with him. For the rest of the week, he visits your bed each night and it is the best sex you’ve ever had in your life. He’s a generous lover, prioritizing your pleasure before his own and his attentiveness afterwards is always exceptional, although he never spends the full night with you. Mindful of Aemond’s text message, you try to tone down your lusty moans of rapture, but you still feel like he knows what’s going on regardless.

On the last full day before you are set to return to the city, you and Aegon make plans to go for another trail ride. However, after lunch he starts to complain of a stomach ache leading Aemond to step in and offer to take you riding instead. This unexpected turn of events leaves you feeling momentarily stunned, given Aemond has been doing a very good job pretending you didn’t exist up until that moment. Despite your reservations, you agree to Aemond's proposal, still feeling a little wary of his sudden change of heart.

“You can ride on Sunfyre this time,” Aegon groans from the couch, referring to his grey gelding, as you and Aemond head out the door.

At first you are unsure of what to expect, but soon find yourself embarking on another memorable riding adventure, only this time with Aemond. It quickly becomes apparent that he shares your love for horses and the great outdoors, if not even more passionately than his brother. You make a bit of small talk as you ride, but most of the time, the gentle plodding of your horses’ hooves and the swish of their tails are the only things that can be heard.

The day was hot and humid, though cooler in the shade of the woods along the trail. A few miles into your ride, you come across a babbling stream with crystal water and decide to stop to let the horses rest and take a much needed drink.

“Thank you for letting me ride Vhagar this week,” you say sincerely, taking a refreshing gulp of water from your canteen, “She’s a good horse.” Aemond offers a small smile, affectionately patting his mare on the neck.

“No problem,” he replies casually, “She seems to like you and, to be honest, she doesn’t warm up to most people. Typically bucks them off within a few minutes,” he glances up to gauge your reaction. “I figured that’s why Aegon had you take her out, so he could laugh when you fell off,” he adds nonchalantly as if he didn’t just throw Aegon under the bus.

Your expression falters briefly, causing you to second guess your perception of Aegon if what Aemond is saying is true but you quickly regain your composure.

“Fortunately, that didn’t happen,” you manage to say as Sunfyre starts to paw, splashing water everywhere and soaking your boots. You urge him from the stream before he decides to roll in the cool water and Aemond follows on Vhagar; you swear you think you see a small, smug smile tug on the corners of his lips.

As you head back home, the mood seems to lighten and you finally feel like you have a small breakthrough with Aemond. Unlike his brother, Aemond’s nature is more naturally reserved, but you are growing to appreciate his calm demeanor in contrast to Aegon's chaotic behavior. He isn’t as quick to laugh or make jokes either, but you manage to coax him into opening up by asking about his interests, particularly books. He eagerly shares insights into the history of the Targaryen family and their estate, keeping the conversation lively until you reach the barn.

You hand Sunfyre off to the attending groom once more, feeling hot and sticky from your ride, eager to get back to the house to take a cool shower. Aemond falls into step beside you.

“So you and Hel are headed back to the city tomorrow?” Aemond inquires casually.

“Yeah we are, have to get back to the grind,” you say with a sigh, a note of reluctance in your tone. The week spent away from the city, immersed in fresh air and nature, had been incredibly rejuvenating and you weren’t ready to leave just yet. Fortunately, Helaena is also your flatmate, and the prospect of returning to hectic city life isn’t as daunting when you have a familiar companion by your side.

“What are your plans?” you ask him in return, aware of his involvement in the family business and his regular trips to the city too.

“I have a flight to catch to New York tomorrow. Work trip. It’s always hard to leave Vhagar…” he trails off with a slight hedge to his voice and you sense he may have more to share, but something seems to be holding him back.

“Hmm,” you murmur noncommittally, letting the moment ride out, feeling if you were patient, he would speak. It works a little too well. He takes a deep breath before he begins.

“That text you sent a few days back…” he starts and your heart instantly leaps. Oh god, here we go, you think, now deeply regretting how shameless you had behaved in the moment.

“Did you mean it?” he asks curiously, catching you completely off guard. You had thought he was about to scold you and you certainly didn’t expect him to be inquisitive instead. Your previous words seem to swim in your mind: [Join us next time, then?]

Did he think you had been serious? You really had only meant it to tease. Regret bubbles in your stomach.

“I still hear you every night,” he says quietly, gently, not like a reprimand at all, and you continue to feel more unsettled with each passing moment. You blush, embarrassed that you were having this conversation in broad daylight with Aemond of all people.

“I’m sorry, Aemond, truly, I…I tried to be more quiet…” you stammer, trailing off as he takes you by the arm, turning you to stop and face him. You stare up into his crystal blue eye, so much lighter than his brother’s, noticing how much taller he is than Aegon too. Up close, his beauty is so breathtaking, the leather eyepatch that covers his left eye only serves to complement his perfect appearance and intrigue you further. Aemond never spoke about what happened to his eye and you were too intimidated to ever ask.

“It’s not that,” he cuts you off abruptly. “Your offer, did you mean it?” he asks more insistently and you feel like you could shrink under the intensity of his stare. Did you really want to have a threesome with him and Aegon? Cowardly, you opt to take the easy way out.

“It would be up to Aegon, I suppose,” you manage to choke out, feeling confident that Aegon would never agree. The way he possessively devours your body, like he is trying to consume your very being when you are together makes you think he isn’t the type to share.

Aemond nods, seeming satisfied with that answer as he abruptly resumes walking back to the house and you can barely keep up with his long strides. What the hell was that about?

Feeling refreshed from your cold shower, you open your bathroom door, still wrapped in only a towel to see Aegon sprawled across your bed, giving you a calculated stare. Your heart skips a beat at his unexpected presence in your bedroom and he has a look in his eye you don’t think you’ve seen before.

“So,” he says lightly and gets right to the point, “You want to have a threesome with Aemond?”

You gape like a fish out of water as you backtrack. “I - I didn’t say that. Aemond mentioned it to me on the way back to the house,” you mumble, trying not to feel like you’re in trouble.

“Oh really?” he raises an eyebrow, glancing down at his phone, scrolling as if he’s looking for something, “What’s this then?”

He holds out his phone and shows you a screenshot of the message you had sent to Aemond earlier in the week, inviting him to join you and Aegon. Aemond clearly has shown Aegon proof of your “offer”, the traitor. Clearly, your lighthearted jest has taken an unexpected turn and signals have been crossed between these two brothers.

Aegon cannot contain a look of triumph as your guilty eyes flash back to his face. Before you can explain more thoroughly he smirks, “I didn’t know you were also into my brother…”

“Aegon, it was just a joke, I was teasing him,” you try to clarify your intentions and prove you aren’t trying to hide anything, now thoroughly wishing you had been this direct with Aemond too. You didn’t foresee it coming back to haunt you like this.

“Really? Because that’s not what Aemond said,” Aegon counters, “So do you want to? It would be hot watching my brother fuck you,” he adds provocatively and your breath catches in your chest at his words.

So many emotions whirl through your mind in an instant. Shock. Guilt. Bewilderment. Confusion. Hurt that he would give you up so easily to another man. Excitement. Lust. Desire. Simultaneously, another thought tugs at your heart: a mixture of determination and defiance. You had been so sure that Aegon would be the one to tell Aemond ‘no’ and you were starting to question his attachment to you, if indeed there had been one at all. If he was so willing to share you with someone else, perhaps you should make him regret this decision. The thought of making Aegon insanely jealous ignites a spark of mischief within your chest.

“Fine,” you say coolly, lifting your chin. “I’d love to fuck your brother,” you taunt seductively, pretending not to care more deeply about Aegon than you do and deliberately trying to push his buttons, but Aegon only gives you a devilish grin.

“Brilliant. I’ll tell him then,” and with that, he springs off your bed, his earlier stomach ache seemingly forgotten, and bounds out the door in search of Aemond.

You were a nervous wreck the whole rest of the day. What had you just agreed to? You curse your need for revenge on Aegon.

That evening, you opt to quietly observe Aemond, feeling a need to familiarize yourself with the person that you would soon be sleeping with. While Aegon could be abundantly charming when he wanted to be, Aemond was simply grace incarnate. You pay particular attention to his interactions with each sibling: he is tolerant of Aegon’s antics, patient with the youthfulness of his younger brother, Daeron, and generously kind to his sister, listening to her discussions about various bugs with genuine interest, as if her words are the most interesting thing in the world. Coupled with his ethereal beauty, you start to question that Aemond might actually be the better of the two brothers. Boyfriend material flashes through your mind.

At last, you bid the group goodnight for the evening and retire to your room. As soon as you shut your door, you sprint to the bathroom, rushing to brush your teeth, apply more deodorant and fix your hair, trying to make yourself as presentable as possible for perfect, proper Aemond. You aren’t sure why you were doing this; why do you care what Aemond thinks of you so much?

Finished with your “prep”, you put on your usual pajamas, wishing you had brought something a little sexier than an oversized t-shirt and shorts and sit on your bed to wait. Soon a soft knock comes from your door and you know instantly it’s Aemond. Aegon never knocks.

“Come in!” you manage to squeak out, voice unusually high, feeling nervous. Aemond enters, looking entirely unruffled, carrying something behind his back. He approaches the bed and reveals his surprise, holding out an expensive bottle of champagne.

“I figured there’s no hurry,” he remarks casually with a shrug as he opens the bottle and takes a gulp, handing it to you. Feeling a bit unconventional drinking expensive champagne straight from the bottle, you take a sip, enjoying the tangy liquid that runs cool down your throat.

You both sit in the middle of your large bed facing each other, talking softly while taking turns swigging from the bottle. Soon, you find yourself relaxing and enjoying his company, forgetting that Aegon was supposed to be joining you. You didn’t even wonder where he was.

When the bottle is empty, you start to feel properly tipsy as Aemond lays a large, warm hand on your leg. You stiffen instantly, unable to help yourself, glancing up into his intense, one-eyed stare.

“I just want to ask, one more time, if you’re sure you want to do this,” he says with soft sincerity.

This is it. Your way out. You didn’t have to sleep with Aemond. However, you were finding yourself more and more drawn to him as you discovered his admirable traits. You believed deep down that Aemond was genuinely kind, one of those "nice guys," so to speak. Moreover, defiance still pounds in your heart at the thought of making Aegon jealous, if he decided to show up at this point.

“Yeah, I want to Aemond, truly,” you respond genuinely, placing your hand overtop of his and giving it a reassuring squeeze. He nods and seems to relax, his sensuous mouth curling into a true smile.

“Should we start without him?” you whisper, alluding to Aegon.

“Yeah, fuck him, I’m not waiting,” Aemond replies boldly before grabbing you by the ankle and pulling you across the bed so you’re right next to him. You slide easily on the soft satin comforter and giggle in delight. Aemond’s lips meet yours and you sigh into his mouth as you melt into him immediately.

Aemond's kiss ignites a fire within you; while you considered Aegon a skilled kisser, a few moments with Aemond had you wondering who was better. His kiss is effortless, your lips fitting together flawlessly, his gentle tongue playfully exploring your mouth, as you take turns sucking on each other’s bottom lip. You moan softly as you instinctively grasp his hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you. Already you can feel your core getting slick with desire and an ache forming at the apex of your thighs.

Aemond maneuvers you to lay on your back and settles overtop of you, lightly pressing you under his weight and you surrender once more to a new man, but this one you think might be more worthy than the last. Still clothed, you are fully immersed in battling his tongue when you hear a low whistle.

“You fuckers started without me,” Aegon growls, low and deep, and you jump, startled since you hadn’t heard him come in. You break the kiss with Aemond, turning to look at Aegon standing beside the bed, seeming completely unfazed seeing his younger brother on top of the girl he’s been fucking all week. Aemond ignores him completely as he kisses your exposed neck, pretending like there’s been no interruption. You notice Aegon is holding his own bottle of champagne and a bag of popcorn, now grinning like a barn cat that has just caught the biggest mouse; he moves to sit in the corner and waves his hand for you to continue.

You roll your eyes and return your attention to Aemond, who is now sucking a hickey onto your collarbone. You decide to get things moving before you lose your nerve now that you have an audience. You slide Aemond's shirt off, taking a moment to appreciate the contours of his fit physique by tracing your fingers across his chest and along the defined muscles of his back. It's almost like a choreographed dance as you and Aemond smoothly help each other out of your clothes, moving with such synchronized ease that it feels like you're perfectly attuned to each other.

As you remove his shorts, his cock springs free, large and heavy against his thigh. Taking him in hand, you give him a few experimental pumps, making him grunt appreciatively; you find yourself absentmindedly wondering who is bigger, the Targaryen men are clearly blessed in this particular department.

You try to ignore the sounds of Aegon chewing popcorn as you and Aemond settle back onto the bed, completely unclothed now. Aemond doesn’t seem to mind being naked in front of his brother and you take his lead as your heart flutters nervously, still mindful of having a witness. He bites down onto the fleshy part of your breast, sucking with enthusiasm and you don’t even care about the mark you know it’ll leave. He moves on and takes one of your nipples into his mouth next, rolling the other between his fingers as he works his way down your body, finally settling between your thighs and licking your soaked pussy like a lollipop; you both groan with pleasure. You spread your legs wide for him and start to knead your own breasts, putting your body on display for Aegon, feigning more confidence than you felt in the moment. You glance over and see him watching you and Aemond hungrily.

Aemond’s lips lock around your bud and he sucks harshly causing you to buck your hips into his face and cry aloud, your breath picking up as pleasure courses like electricity through your body. You feel him slip a finger inside of you followed by another and he crooks them against your sweet spot all while continuing to suck on your bud like he is trying to slurp the thickest milkshake.

It’s not long before your thighs are shaking around his head as you wail in ecstasy, your orgasm ripping through your core, pussy clenching tightly down onto Aemond’s fingers. You no longer notice Aegon’s presence and you secretly hope he’s burning with jealousy at the way Aemond is unraveling you thoroughly. Aegon clears this throat as you come down from your high and return to your senses.

“I want her on top, Aemond,” he commands from the dark corner of the room. You think Aemond will refuse as he isn’t the type that usually takes orders, and especially not from Aegon, but he lays on his back and positions you to hover above him. Achingly slow, still sensitive from your climax, you spear yourself on his hard, thick cock, sinking inch by delicious inch, savoring the stretch of your soft velvet walls. You breathe through your nose as you try to relax and welcome Aemond into your body, joining as one.

You both groan in unison when you finally sit flush against him, his cock buried deep. He gives you a moment to adjust and lets you set the pace. Knowing Aegon is seated behind you, you lean forward slightly, bracing your hands against Aemond’s chest, arching your back as you ride his cock, letting Aegon get the best view of Aemond’s thick length sliding in and out of your tight pussy, no longer feeling insecure about being watched. In this position, your sensitive bud rubs consistently against Aemond’s pubic bone and you can already feel another orgasm mounting deep in your belly. You toss your hair and moan loudly in pleasure, uttering filthy words to Aemond, knowing full well Aegon can hear you too. You want to leave him without any doubt just how much you are enjoying his brother.

Beneath you, Aemond looks like a fallen angel. His one eye is hooded and dark with lust, the angles of his exquisite face are sharp in the low light, his sensual lips are parted slightly as he pants softly while you move up and down on his length. His luminous blonde hair is splay out on the bed, creating a sort of halo around his head. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything more beautiful in your life.

Spurred on by your passionate words of lust, Aemond grasps your hips and picks up the pace, fingers digging into the soft flesh and you hope for bruises. Taking control, he fucks up into you from below, hitting your sweet spot repeatedly. You start mumbling nonstop again, like you always do when you’re about to cum.

“Yeah? You gonna cum on my cock, sweet girl?” Aemond says in a low growl as he watches your tits bounce above him.

“A-Aemond, don’t stop,” is all you can manage as your peak crashes over you with the force of a hurricane and Aemond groans as your pussy tightens like a vice around him. He rides out your climax, sustaining your pleasure as you soar into oblivion. Finally, feeling like jelly, you topple off of Aemond and onto the soft bed, breathing heavily and trying to recover from your second mind-blowing orgasm.

“My turn,” suddenly, Aegon stands on the edge of the bed, totally naked and stroking his hard, thick cock. Now that the two are visually out for comparison, you think Aemond’s might be a tad longer, but they are both just as thick.

Your brain feels fuzzy, swirling with endorphins from the rush of your climax. Despite your haze, excitement pulses through your chest when you see that Aegon has finally come to play, hoping he got tired of watching Aemond fuck you so thoroughly. Although being with two men at once is entirely new territory, you trust them completely to take care of you properly and not abuse their positions of power. With a new sense of confidence, adrenaline surges through your veins and you decide to take charge.

“Lay on the bed,” you direct at Aegon and he obeys you instantly, climbing onto the bed and laying his head on your pillow. You crawl over to him, swaying your hips seductively and meeting his dark blue gaze.

“So, did you enjoy watching that?” you purr innocently while taking his cock in your hand and squeezing.

“More than you know,” he manages to respond before you lower your head and take him in your mouth. Maintaining eye contact with him, you put on a bit of a show as your tongue teases the sensitive tip.

Realizing Aemond is watching from afar, you look over your shoulder at him while continuing to pump Aegon with your other hand. You consider him for a moment, impressed with his endurance as he still hasn’t cum himself, despite riding out your orgasm while buried deep within your body.

“Aemond, I need you too,” you whine, tossing your hair over your shoulder and bringing your ass in the air, giving him a pointed look; his lips lift in a devilish smirk.

As Aemond comes to kneel behind you, there is a kinetic sort of energy that passes between the brothers as their eyes meet and you feel a shift as the energy in the room suddenly becomes charged. The hair stands up on the back of your neck and you aren’t entirely sure why; all you know is that you suddenly feel like a lamb caught between two apex predators. Undaunted, the thought makes you chuckle; Aemond has already begun to pick you apart with absurd precision and you feel ready for more.

You take Aegon into your mouth again as you feel Aemond spread your ass cheeks apart with a firm grip, taking a moment to admire the view before re-entering you from behind, moving slowly to help you adjust to this new angle. You moan in pleasure as Aemond’s cock hits your sweet spot perfectly in this position. Aegon grunts as your moans reverberate around his dick and you hear him whisper “yeah, that’s it,” as your head bobs along his thick length. With one hand wrapped around the rest of Aegon’s girth that you can’t fit into your mouth, the other grips his thigh, trying to hold yourself steady as Aemond’s hips snap roughly into your backside.

“She really does have the most perfect cunt, brother,” Aemond rumbles, grunting in appreciation as he watches his fat cock slide in and out of you, glistening with your arousal. “You were right.”

“I told you she could be our perfect little slut,” Aegon groans in agreement and gives you a dark smile. You try to ignore the fact that they are talking about you like you aren’t even there. Despite your senses being fully enveloped in a primal sort of lust, you feel a small prick of unease. How much did they discuss about you before today? Have they planned this all along?

You hardly have time to consider further before Aegon takes you by the hair and earnestly starts to fuck your mouth, spit dribbling down your chin as he thrusts in and out. You hollow out your cheeks and try your best to take him, choking at times as his cock touches the back of your throat, all while Aemond continues a steady pace fucking your pussy from behind. Tears prick your eyes and Aegon wipes them away with his thumb, murmuring “good girl” softly and encouraging you to keep going. You watch as his abs contract in pleasure as your tongue swirls around the sensitive tip; you find it becoming more difficult to focus on Aegon as Aemond brings his hand around and starts to play with your bud, rubbing tight, fast circles. Your breath is caught in your chest and you let out a sultry moan.

For a moment, all that can be heard is heavy breathing, grunts of pleasure, skin slapping erotically, and a juicy sucking noise from your mouth as your orgy progresses. With Aemond’s expert attention on your bud, your walls start to flutter again and you redouble your efforts to suck off Aegon, determined that you both should cum at the same time; his breathing is becoming labored and you know he’s close. Within a few more moments, the three of you climax together in unison; Aegon grunts as his girth pulses in your hand, shooting his seed down your throat just as Aemond’s cock pumps his into your pussy, emptying deep inside you. He gives your ass a hard slap and you wail once more as mind numbing pleasure courses through your belly as your pussy milks Aemond dry.

Swallowing your mouthful, you collapse, exhausted, onto the bed next to Aegon, completely worn out by your third orgasm. Aegon pants softly beside you and Aemond plops down on your other side, the only one to still seem composed despite the sheen of sweat on his chest from his own exertion.

The next few minutes are spent in comfortable silence as your breathing returns to normal. Aegon rolls to his side and captures your lips between his own. You think he’s just giving you a sweet sort of kiss as a “thank you” for a great time, until he takes your leg and swings it over his hip, reaching down and playing with your sensitive bud. You buck you hips away from his hand and whine pathetically, telling him without words that you are almost too sensitive to touch at this point. He shushes you gently and you feel him reach down to your entrance and gather Aemond’s spend that’s leaking from your pussy, bringing it up and circling your bud with a featherlight touch.

You feel Aemond move until he’s spooning you from behind, trapping you. He brushes your hair to the side as he starts to pepper your neck and shoulder with kisses while his large warm hand caresses your back, moving down to squeeze the ample flesh of your ass. Despite your exhaustion, you feel yourself getting aroused again at their attention. Aegon’s skin is burning as you lay facing him, chest to chest, and Aemond is just as hot against your backside. You feel caught between two flames, like you could catch fire entwined around the brothers.

Aegon continues to kiss you slowly, circling your bud, your leg still hooked over his hip when you feel another set of digits come to play at the entrance of your pussy. You flinch slightly, but Aemond doesn’t enter you digitally, instead seeming to gather more fluid on his fingertips. Without warning, you jump when you feel him spreading his spend on your asshole. Aemond hushes you sweetly, kissing right below your ear, as he starts to push ever so gently on your puckered hole.

“Come now,” Aegon whispers against your lips, “You didn’t really think we would be done with you already, did you?” His hand moves up to tightly grip your thigh around his hip, holding you in place as Aemond slowly starts inserting a digit into your ass, causing you to moan and arch your back, unfamiliar with this new intrusion.

“Hmm,” Aemond hums appreciatively, nibbling on your earlobe as Aegon watches your face. The pressure is mounting as Aemond pushes his thumb into your ass and realization dawns that they are far from finished with you. They aren’t going to stop until every last bit of you is sore from stretching around their thick cocks repeatedly; their intention to possess you both at the same time becomes abundantly clear as Aemond works to open your tight puckered hole and you know they’ll continue to cover your body in bite marks, hickeys, and bruises, effectively marking you as their own. They haven’t even begun to truly consume you yet.

“Yes, sweet girl,” says Aemond, an authoritative edge to his tone, “We’re just getting started.”

The story continues in Part 3

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