#I started with fluff and I shall end with fluff

[mv1simp]

Earned It ♥️

Max Verstappen x Wife! Reader

cause girl you’re perfect, you’re always worth it (I see nobody, nobody but you)

The story of how you met your husband, Max Verstappen, is a fan favourite. A classic rags to riches Cinderella story - well, in this case, a working class med student with an outrageous loan meets F1 multimillionaire. For years, you two dodge the questions of having kids, due to your busy careers. But lately, your husband can’t stop thinking about a 3rd addition to your family…and no, he didn’t mean another cat.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, fluff, humour, pregnancy, angst but happy ending, very brief description of sexual harassment (not from Max obviously), simp!Max, brat! reader, smut, size kink, breeding kink (very versatile from me for once), 5.7k WC

Guys, seriously, we’ve talked about this behaviour, you need to be tidier. You look up from your comfortable position on the couch, where you’re typing away one of your research projects, to see your darling husband gently scolding your three pets. You muffle your laughter with your hand, 20karat diamond ring glinting, admiring his toned build as he stands with his hands on his slim hips, reprimanding the two cats - Sassy and Jimmy - and labrador Arlo about the mess they’d made on the patio. Hearing your giggles as you fail to contain yourself, Max turns around, grinning at the pretty sound. All done, schat? Want to go out for some lunch?

You hmm in agreement, standing up to stretch and walking over to him with a cheeky expression. But first I need you to explain just what you’re doing here. You know they can’t understand you right, babe?

Max immediately tells your three so called “kids” to ignore your blasphemous words, making you giggle again at what a dork your husband was. No one would ever guess how sweet and domestic he was with you, compared to the ferocious lion he was when terrorising his rivals on the track. It is a very serious matter, schat, Max says indignantly. You’d let them get away with murder. I’m the only one who upholds any discipline in this household.

You stand on your tippy toes to kiss him lovingly on the cheek to appease him, batting your eyelashes innocently as you say sorry, baby, shall I make it up to you? and any annoyance Max had slips away as he pulls your petite frame against his much larger one to press a kiss to your lips instead. You two had been married for almost two years now, and dating for six before that, but you simply can’t get enough of each other - even now, as your innocent kiss deepens into a steamy make out session that has you panting and grinding against your husband’s thick thighs as he squeezes your plush ass with his large hands. You’re just about to ask him to carry you to the bedroom when your on-call phone rings, signalling an emergency at the hospital. Sorry, baby you say, apologising genuinely this time with a guilty look. I have to get this, go ahead and eat and I’ll make us some dinner when I’m back, ok?

Max reassures you that you have nothing to worry about, and that he’d make dinner of course, you’re going to be tired after sorting out an emergency. Your heart swells at how thoughtful he is of you and your busy career. You give him one last quick kiss before speeding out the door, scrubs on and barking orders over the phone already.

Admittedly, it hadn’t always been like this. When you had started dating, Max had been the considerably busier one - at the peak of his racing career and collecting multiple world championships as if it were child’s play. And the way you met was a classic dinner party story - F1 driver crashes his Ferrari into studious med student. It was hotly debated as to whether the fault lay with him for illegally going 80 in a 40 zone, or with you for walking with your nose buried in a textbook. Regardless, his insane reflexes had slammed on the brakes just in the nick of time to stop any real damage happening, but your textbook had gone flying in the air and straight on top of a passing truck, disappearing for good. You’d been devastated by the loss of it, more concerned with your upcoming final exam rather than any bodily harm, and as Max sprinted out from his car to worriedly ask if you were okay you’d whirled around angrily.

He was immediately struck with your natural beauty, with your pretty caramel skin and full lips and dark curls. Then he realized you were furiously pointing a finger at him and roasting his driving skills. Watch were you’re going! God, what is it with you boy racers speeding through the tiny side streets?

What?! Boy racer? Oh, Max was not going to let this grave insult slide, yelling back that he was a World-class driver, thank you, and you were the one who needs to watch where you’re going cause who reads and walks, that’s just dumb-

You cut him off, demanding to know who he worked for. Uber? Lyft? Monaco Taxi Incorporated? I’ll be sure to leave a scathing Google review, you said hotly.

Max had now realized you had absolutely no clue who he was, so basically he just looked like a complete dickhead - including to all the passerbys who gawked at the incriminating scene of the 6 foot Dutchman childishly arguing with a 5 foot, pouting girl. Deflating, he offers you his insurance information but you rolled your eyes and walked off, muttering about the goddamn Monaco elite in their Ferrari taxis.

He’d forgotten all about you until 6 months later, when he and Lando end up in the emergency department after a padel game gone wrong, only to find you pulling back the curtain - looking for Max, wait, Uber driver Max?! You’d narrowed your gorgeous doe eyes at him, then demanded to know if he was here cause he’d gotten in another hit and run. It was not a hit and run, that is an incredibly misleading statement, Max hissed, ignoring Lando’s goggle eyed stare, cause why on earth was his mate arguing with the pretty doctor who thought he drove for Uber and not F1 World Cup winning team Redbull-

The third time you had run into each other, at a charity ball where both your employers were sponsors, Max was convinced it was fate. Either that, or you were a crazy stalker. But he was, like, 98% sure it was fate as he felt his heart race at the sight of you in a fitted red silk dress and gold stilettos, your short frame still not even brushing his chin. This time round, you knew who he really was, and had an embarrassed flush on your pretty face as you said you know, you could have corrected me, it was a very awkward lunchbreak that day when the nurses starting asking if I’d gotten your signature.

He laughed, finding you adorable, and held out his hand for you to shake, grinning Let’s start over then, shall we? You’d easily returned the gesture, an undeniable spark running up both your arms as you touched. And a few months later, at the exact street where you first met, he pulled out a copy of your missing textbook that you excitedly took, laughing that he remembered only to gasp as you open it to see his messy scrawl - Thanks for not suing me, want to be my girlfriend instead of my victim? And the rest had been history, with you two now blissfully married years later.

Sure, you had your fair share of ups and downs, just like any couple did. Before your marriage, Max’s busy career meant that he was away more often than not, and although it helped that you had a busy life yourself, he knew you missed having him there at home after a long day or by your side at friends’ weddings where you’d have to attend solo. But you never complained, never asked for more because you understood that at this time of his life, his career would be first priority, and always supported him with diligently made meal preps, looking after his cats when he went away, and late night debriefs after arguments with his demanding father, your soothing voice helping calm down the burning anger in his chest.

And although you couldn’t attend every race like the other WAGs, you’d always do your very best to make it. He still grins when he remembers his last Monaco race, where you’d gotten held up in emergency surgery and had sprinted straight to the track, not having time to change into the Chanel outfit you’d sweetly picked out the night before (from a very large pile Max had generously insisted you fund with his black Amex). You’d made it just in time to see him cross the line in P1, and the pictures of you happily crying for his win as you jumped into his arms, still in your scrubs, long curls flying as he whirled you around went absolutely viral on social media. He was glad for it too, because you received so much online hate for not always being dressed like a model and by his side at every event - and knew that deep down, you felt guilty about it, even though it was such an unfair double standard. So he’d framed that famous shot of you and hung it in the entryway, so it would be the first thing everyone would see when they walk in, and understand why Max’s heart swelled with pure love and adoration whenever he looked at you.

So when he had gotten his fill with his eight - eight! - world championships and wanted to spend his Sunday mornings waking you up with his skilled tongue in between your soft thighs instead of on a racing track halfway across the world, he had promptly quit F1 - to the outrage of his father and thousands of fans - and stepped back to coach his own team instead. It was quite an accomplishment, you had thought amusedly when reading the headlines that year, to be known as the woman who had "seduced Max Verstappen to retire and become her trophy husband". Of course, Max stood for none of the media circus, retaining his infamous status as Mad Max when he openly shut down that storyline in a media statement that had blown up, making it clear that this had always been his plan and he would not be tolerating any slander of his beautiful wife whom he loved very much - who, by the way, was now the associate head of the emergency department, had they heard?

As time passed the fans eventually relaxed and enjoyed the new talent that came on, with your husband still a common figure on the paddock as coach. He'd had more time these past two years to look after you now - cooking your favourite meals and meeting you on the hospital rooftop for lunch and making all the nurses blush at how romantic your husband was, picking you up from a late shift in his Ferrari, taking you jewellery shopping in Paris one weekend then stiletto shopping in Milan the next with all your bags in his hands and his Amex in yours, and listening attentively in the living room as you practised your powerpoints on Intracranial Haemorrhage: Do early CAT scans change mortality rates? Your personal favourite gift, though, had to be when he'd brought home a 2 month old golden labrador as your birthday present. You'd always wanted a dog but had never had time for one on top of his two cats - but now, with Max home more often, he was able to look after all 3 of your kids, as you both affectionately referred to them.

And speaking of kids - the topic was something that had increasingly come up over the family events and meetups with friends you two went to. Of course, when it had first been asked, the two of you had dismissed it given there was simply no time with your careers. You religiously used contraception - with you on the pill and Max using condoms everytime. At one point, though, you both realised you rather enjoyed doing it raw - when the condom had broken after a particular rough session post 6th WDC win. Max still remembered your blushing face as he came down from what had been one of the most intense orgasms of his life, already addicted to the feeling of spilling inside you. You had bit your lip, shyly saying you know Maxie, the pill is 99% effective, I don't think we need to use condoms anymore-

He'd cut you off with a pleased growl, sealing his lips back onto yours for Round 2 as the thought of getting to fill you up every night sent all the blood rushing to his cock. Safe to say, there hadn't been a box of condoms in your home for a very long time. But as time passed after your marriage, Max started to feel an unfamiliar desire simmer in his gut everytime he saw you playing with his nieces and nephews, or when he would be showing Daniel's toddler how to operate a racekart, or when he’d finish inside you, watching your eyes roll back in pleasure, and wonder what would happen if you weren’t on the pill. He avoided saying anything as your answer to the kids? question at Family Xmas was still not right now.

But lately he hadn't been able to deny the aching yearn he felt any longer, and especially not when you two had been celebrating Charles' and Alex's pregnancy announcement on their yacht last weekend. You'd looked so happy for the couple, congratulating Alex on her glow and admiring the ultrasound pictures but all Max could think about was how amazing he was sure you'd look carrying his child, how he wanted to have your baby scans on the fridge door and argue over names, how he was sure you would be the most amazing mother to his kids and he couldn’t have picked a better wife. He must have been looking quite jealously at the scene because Charles comes upto him, greeting him with a Hey, mate and a knowing smirk. Max grunts, sipping his G&T, then realises he might be acting in a way you would refer to as "dickhead behaviour", so he also throws in a gruff congratulations.

Charles' is not having it though, having recognised the intensity which Max was staring you down with. You know, he starts, prompting Max out of his one-way thoughts, You could always try bringing it up directly with her instead of expecting her to read your mind, hmm? Max glanced at him side ways. Already practising your fatherly advice? He joked, diffusing the tension, before the conversation moved onto how the new young F1 drivers just didn’t appreciate a good wheel to wheel battle like back in their karting days.

Charles' words stuck with him throughout the week, and one night as you both settled down for bed, he decided it was time to ask. Schatje? he begun, watching you from his position in the bed as you brushed out your damp curls in the mirror, dressed in a cute silk nightie. You hmmed at him, slightly distracted by a tangle in your hair but prompting him to continue. You know, I was, well -whatdoyouthinkaboutgettingpregnant?

You frowned slightly, still distracted by the tangle in your hair. Who, Alex and Charles? I think it's great, they've wanted kids for a while now, right?

Max takes a deep breath, tells himself to stop being a pussy, and walks over to you, taking the comb away as he brushes out the tangle himself. You look at him curiously as he tilts your head up with his large palm, brushing your cheek lovingly as his ice blue eyes meet yours. No, shcat he murmurs gently. I mean us, getting pregnant, having a baby. How do you feel about that?

Your jaw drops open at his words as your brain temporarily stopped working. You feel your face blush from the thought of your husband getting you pregnant. As hot as it sounded, out of all the things, you hadn't expected him to say that. You realise your surprised silence was making Max freak out, the telltale sign of a crinkle between his brows. You scramble to come up with a response, stuttering that Oh, sorry, I hadn't really thought about it, I guess and that we'd both been busy with work for so long it kind of...slipped my mind?

But what do you think, liefje, your husband pressed, hopeful. Do you want to try? You honestly weren't sure, this was all so sudden and you needed a bit more time to process it - but when you told Max this you didn't miss the hurt look that flashes across his face as his insecurities rise up. He asked if the problem was that you didn't want to have kids with him, because how could you possibly not have thought about it, all our friends and family constantly bring it up all the time-

I don't know! you'd responded defensively, arms crossed. We'd been focusing on your racing for so long that I just stopped thinking about stuff like that. The argument had spiralled out of control quickly, Max demanding to know when you were going to stop holding that over him, and when you wanted to think about it then, you two weren't any younger, after all - prompting you to angrily accuse him of always putting his job above yours, because now that he had his fill he was ready to start a family but what about your career?!

You hadn’t been able to stop the tears that dripped down your face as the argument escalated into a full blown fight. Max had sighed seeing that, deflating and saying you should both head to bed for now. You’d lain next to him, feeling so cold without his usual warm bicep pulling you against him, trying to hold back more tears before you drifted into a fitful sleep. Max hadn’t been any better either, only falling asleep in the early hours of the morning and when he woke up, you were already gone. He’d started trying to look for you but then remembered you had a conference in London today you’d had to fly out for - you wouldn’t be back for a week, he reads on the note you’d left on the fridge.

Fuck, it had been a bad night to have such an ugly fight considering you two had left so much unresolved. Later, when he’s visiting his sister’s for dinner and watching her kids with the same burning want in his heart, his mother corners him and demands to know why he had shown up looking like a kicked puppy. Your wife’s been gone one day and you’re already so hopeless? She’d joked, but clearly had a concerned look in her eyes. He couldn’t stop himself then, opening up about the horrible fight. He feels terrible that you had ended up crying, but still can’t help feel that you were being purposely selfish, he explains, after all, we’d be raising the baby together, she can still have her career, no?

His mother had been silent for a while, taking it all in, before she gently reminded Max about how she, too, had been in the peak of her very successful karting career when Jos had gotten her pregnant. Your wife isn’t me, and you certainly are not your father, she said firmly. But she’s scared, Max, it’s not personal. She’s scared she could lose everything she’s spent years building while you get to have it all. It isn’t as easy for a mother to put her career on hold as it is for a father. Even if he’s as loving and caring as you will be, she reassures.

Max looked troubled, then, as your responses last night now started to make sense. God, he was such a terrible husband, how had he not considered that before? Sensing her son’s brain was running at 100 miles a minute, the older woman lays a soothing hand on his shoulder. Just give her some space, Max. Let her come to you. You two will work through this.

So he gives you the space, and 6 days later he’s standing at the arrivals area of the airport, stonily looking out the window at the planes landing but internally fighting a storm of emotions. You two had never had these many days of no contact in your whole marriage, and he’d said some vicious things that night, and what if in the time away you had decided you would be better off without him? His jaw clenched at the idea of losing you. God, maybe he shouldn’t have given you space but spammed your phone, begging for forgiveness. Why was marriage so much more confusing than driving a car at 200kmph?

Suddenly, he hears the click of your familiar YSL heels walking up to him and he turns frantically to see your petite figure come to a stop a few feet away. Your face looks just as troubled as his, but as soon as your eyes meet you can’t control yourself and run forward to jump into his arms. Max welcomes you eagerly, all his tension releasing as he hugs you tightly, broad arms easily lifting you up and pressing his face into your neck to breathe in your perfume. You’re rapidly saying something about how you were so sorry, you had overreacted - You don’t have to apologise for anything, liefje, Max says fiercely, God, I missed you so, so much. I shouldn’t have brought it up so suddenly. Take all the time you need, okay?

You blink back happy tears, heart so full at your understanding husband as you looked up into his blue eyes adoringly before sharing a loving kiss. Passerbys smiled at the sweet scene you two made. Max took you home, one hand carrying your luggage and the other firmly around your waist, as if he was paranoid you were going to disappear. Again, in the car, his hand stayed glued to your thigh, softly stroking it as you told him about your week in London. And then at home, you had to stop him as he got ready to climb into the shower with you, giggling and saying you were starving, baby, did he want to grab some dinner for you two?

He’d pouted, but then perked up excitedly once you promised you two could go for a swim in the pool after dinner instead. Need anything else while I’m out, schat? He asked, grabbing the Ferrari keys. You hesitated, making him turn around, as you blushed a little and said Would you mind grabbing some condoms, Maxie? I forgot to take my pill to London so I haven’t been on anything for a week…

You search his face for any hint that he’s upset you still needed time, but found none, only a gentle expression on his face as he pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek. Of course, schatje, he says lovingly before heading out. You watch him go, a devious smirk now on your face. A part of you felt bad for the game that you were planning on playing with your husband later that evening - but, oh well, you had to have some fun in a marriage, right? And your sweet, darling, perfect husband had passed the test with flying colours tonight, showing his dedication to putting your needs first.

The truth was, you’d also reflected on your marriage and its future in London. You’d thought and thought until you could think no more about whether or not it was time to have kids, if you should even have kids, not because you didn’t want them but because you were so worried about how it would derail the career you’d worked so hard to build. And then you’d remembered how Max would spend hours quizzing you for your residency exams, while you were on the toilet or in the kitchen, making sure you got every answer right and you’d passed with full marks.

Or how you knew you loved Max for the first time, when he had stood by your side and steadied you as you shakily reported to your boss about a supervisor who’d developed a nasty habit of feeling you up at work and barring you from surgeries if you said no. Max had stood by you through it all, his large, gentle hands holding your own, a contrast to the thunderous expression on his face at anyone who tried to give you a hard time when you came forward - and he didn’t ease up until the creep had been permanently stripped of his medical license. Even now, when you’d sometimes shiver at the memory, he’d pull you into his safe arms, murmuring how proud he was of you, schat, you were so brave for speaking up.

You thought about how warm you’d felt seeing Max gently rock his nephew in his strong arms, or how impressed you had been seeing how he taught the kids how to drive a kart, or how devoted he was to your marriage and your three pets, always being there to provide for you and support you however you needed him to be - mentally, physically, emotionally. Max really was the best husband to you, and he’d be the best father to your kids. And you knew you had your answer.

So now, after eating your favourite dinner of Italian pasta, expensive red wine and tiramisu for dessert, you got changed into your bikini, a skimpy pink number Max always enjoyed, and slipped on a gold choker with matching anklets, all adorned with the letter M - a custom made Cartier set he’d brought for you on his birthday, as a gift to himself. The box of condoms he’d picked up lays on the bedside table. You smirk at them as you pass by - they won’t be needed much longer. Not that your husband had any clue of that - yet, and you couldn’t wait to see the expression on his face when he figured out just how you were going to reward his devotion tonight. Picking up a second bottle of wine, you take a good swig and make your way out to the dark backyard where Max is shirtless, the pool’s neon lights reflecting the water droplets that slide down his large, muscular back. Shit, you had to stay extra focused if he was going to be looking so delectable tonight!

He turns as he hears your anklets tinkle, smirking as he takes in your dolled up appearance, all for him. Coming in, schat? He calls huskily, feeling his cock hardening at the sight of you after a whole maddening week away. Just admiring the view, you say cheekily, taking another swig from the wine and slowly stepping into the pool. You can feel your husband’s hungry gaze sliding up your curvy body, and you shiver, feeling rather like a deer caught in a lion’s trap even though you were the one playing games tonight. You come to a stop in front of him, your head barely reaching his upper chest, giving him a generous view as your tits spilled around the tiny bikini. You sultrily gaze right into his darkening blue eyes as you take yet another sip of the wine, your pink tongue darting out to circle the tip of the bottle in quite the slutty manoeuvre. Missed you, Maxie you say coyly. Especially missed having you inside me.

He growls lowly at your teasing, easily taking the bottle off you and downing the rest before discarding it to the side. You whine as he puts a stop to your antics, pouty lips and large doe eyes staring up at him invitingly. Chuckling, he places a large palm across your ass and lifts you up against him. Your thighs wrap themselves around his toned waist and your hands tangle in his soft hair, gently tugging on the strands just the way he likes it. Now face to face, you tease him further, whispering in his ear about how lonely you’d been while away, how normally you’d call him and have him talk you through an orgasm, and how your tiny fingers hadn’t been able to make you cum all week because you needed his thick ones to stretch you open.

Fuckkk, schat, Max breathes, feeling his cock grow impossibly hard, his blue eyes completely darkened by lust. I missed that filthy little mouth of yours so much. He glides his thumb along your pink lips and you part them easily, taking him in and swirling your tongue around him. He can’t hold himself back any longer, pulling you in and replacing his thumb with his tongue. You moan into the dirty kiss, running your hands along his muscular shoulders, addicted to the feeling of his strong, thick biceps caging you against him. Your bikini strings are deftly untied as he practically rips it off of you, breaking the kiss to lean you back and suck on your pretty nipples. You squeal as he gently bites down, murmuring maybe you shouldn’t have been such a cocktease, schat.

You’re now grinding your pussy against his abs, begging him for more, please, Maxie and asking him to take you to bed. He smirks at how easily you fall apart under his tongue, squeezing your ass as he carries you inside, always giving you what you wanted like the devoted husband he is. You two have no regard for the sheets as you drip water all over them, foreplay long forgotten as your bikini bottoms are yanked off, followed by his trunks. You’d honestly forgotten about the damn condoms by this point but Max hadn’t, hurriedly ripping open a packet with his teeth as you whine at him to hurry up, Maxie, I can’t take it- Oh!

You moan blissfully as he buries himself inside you. Feels like coming home everytime, schat, he breathes out as he holds his position for a few beats before he starts thrusting into you. Holy shit, that felt sooo good. You didn’t think you were going to last very long at all - putting a time limit on your plan. You let him get a few more thrusts in you before you start begging again, this time asking Maxie, wait, can-can we please take the condom off?

He looks down at you in surprise, saying you hadn’t been on the pill this week schat, it’ll be risky-

Oh, your darling husband still hadn’t caught on to your suprise, and as you whine that it’s okay, you can just pull out, right Maxie? you almost giggle from the strained expression on his face as he considers that feat of self restraint. But he wasn’t going to say no to you, not when you were below him with your lush dark curls spread around you and looking up at him so adoringly, so he reaches down and pulls the condom off and sinks back inside you.

Shit. He swears at the vice grip you have his cock in, one hand automatically going to grasp the headboard to try and maintain some control and ground himself. But you’re begging for more and it feels so good to be back inside you, raw, feeling your slick heat up on his thick cock that his thrusts start getting sloppier. He’s panting above you, both hands now gripping the headboard to hold himself back from the urge to cum inside you.

Your devilish eyes don’t miss this, and you grab his thick wrists to pull them down so his hands rest on your bouncing tits, begging him to play with them, please. Oh, shit, he feels his orgasm quickly approaching from your positively filthy demands tonight. But as he starts to pull back you wrap your legs around him tightly, keeping him in place as you make your final demand - Noo, Maxie, don’t pull out, you can come inside me, it’s ok-

Perplexed, knowing he can break your grip around him in half a second, your husband is now very confused as he points out with gritted teeth that no condom and no pill and no pulling out meant-Yes, yes, I know! You whine impatiently. I want it Maxie, I’m ready now, come inside, I want to get pregnant!

Max pauses above you, this time being the one to have his brain function temporarily suspended as he slowly figures out just what you’re saying. Are you sure, schat-

You roll your eyes, sinking yourself down onto his cock, making him moan, and hoping he gets the message. Oh, I’m definitely sure, dear husband, you say sultrily. Now, are you going to fuck a baby into me or what?

He finally clicks, his confused gaze now morphing into pure joy as he grins down at you, and you can’t help but grin back, the two of you finally ready to progress into the next step of your marriage together. He pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, catching you off guard. You know I love you right, schat? He murmurs, and you nod, confused where he was taking this. Good, cause I’m about to fuck you like I hate you. That was a dirty game you played, yeah? Edging me all night when you were gonna let me fuck you raw all along. Gonna have to punish you real good for that. He growls darkly, his large hand coming to squeeze your throat, making you gasp in delight.

Oh, you loved when Mad Max came out to play. Your legs are tossed over his shoulders and then pressed all the way back against your soft tummy, into a mating press. The unfamiliar position has you screaming in pleasure, your anklets dangling by your face as he thrusts his way back into you. Your husband chuckles wickedly at your reaction, pumping into you deeply and making the headboard bang against the wall each time.

And true to his word, he punishes you thoroughly, not stopping despite your overstimulated pleas as you repeatedly orgasm, instead cumming inside you over and over and over again, leaving you obscenely full with his thick load.

And when you finally pass out into blissful darkness, he meanly fucks you awake again, demanding that you take another round from him like the good little wife you are, aren’t you, so obedient for me, hmm? Gonna fuck you stupid until you’re finally pregnant with my kids, like you always should have been.

Safe to say, you didn’t get much sleep that night, or for many nights after 💖

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A/N: damn this is a whole ass essay. I love simp husband max so much tho I couldn’t help it 🥺might make a part 2 about the pregnancy and protective max hehe if people like this! Lmk what you think 🫶🫶

[wyvernest]

cold nights by the fire

cregan stark x betrothed f! reader

cw: smut, piv, creampie, fluff, slightly typical-medieval sexist views, loss of virginity

summary: your soon-to-be husband keeps you warm on your first cold night in Winterfell

Ever since the war ended, nights have grown colder in the regretted absence of most dragonfire in Westeros. High and sharp winds have started growing in the North, sweeping far south of The Wall and clawing at the gates of Winterfell.

Tonight was no different. You had asked your handmaiden to build a fire in the hearth for both your comfort, but with little gain. As soon as you stepped away from the red, licking flames, the cold took over like shadow vanquishing light.

“It’s all in vain.” you mutter, defeated.

“I shall bring more furs, m’lady.” your handmaiden insists, getting up from her spot by the fire.

“Don’t.”, you chuckle, “Any more and I’ll suffocate. They’ll have to send all the guards to come looking for me amongst them come morn’.”

Your companion lets a shy laugh escape her trembling lips, although short-lived as a tall, broad shadow appears by the door. 

“My lady.” Your heart flutters wildly at the unmistakable sound of your betrothed’s voice, so gentle and concerned. “Are you well?”

Nodding for your handmaiden to retreat to her own chamber, you now become aware of your condition; kneeled on the rough tapestry, crumbled into a ball of pelts, hands above the flames. Sour shame washes over you, for having dared to believe you were one of the toughest of your family during harsh times, yet now conquered by the cold on your first night in Winterfell. 

“Cregan.” you shuffle to raise to your feet but your freezing legs aren’t eager to heed your intent. “I must admit, my northern blood has betrayed me tonight, for the first time.” 

You are startled amidst your struggles to flee from the furs as he braces you with a firm hand on your back, before his other comes around your waist, easily lifting you off the rugs. He walks back, placing you on the soft bed and sitting beside you, the covers rigid with night’s chill underneath.

“I will not have my lady wife quiver in my own keep.” He rids himself of his cloak swiftly, draping it over your smaller frame. The hastiness of the gesture makes a newfound warmth pool in your veins, reminding you of the same way he is to soon cloak you as his lady, in sight of the Old Gods. 

“Thank you,” You whisper, surprised and stunned, as you cuddle closer into his embrace. His body heat soon seeps into you, your trembling diminishing as his strong arms faintly squeeze more and more. 

‘Exhilarated’ didn’t begin to properly describe how you felt when Lord Cregan started courting you not long after he had returned from the southern war of the Targaryens. Your house is pledged to the Starks, but with the safety of the North now secured, he did not deem it necessary to strengthen alliances with marriage anymore, not when he could follow his heart so freely.

A giddy shiver rouses you from oncoming slumber, as the last slither of cold leaves your body in a sneeze you wished you could suppress. 

“Come closer.” You can feel his hot breath on your face as he moves you over his lap, his right arm running up and down your back in hopes of keeping you warm.

“Is this proper? So soon, before the wedding?” You do not wish to so easily disrespect customs and laws, but it wasn't rare that you found yourself fantasising about finally being his.

“I am merely looking after my beloved. I already vowed to shield you from harm.” You cannot tell if there was a trace of amusement in his tone or if it was just your mind jesting.

“Not before the gods.”

“The gods knew of the pledge before I could speak it. The ceremony will be held, but my loyalties will have been with you for long before.” The hold around your waist tightens, affectionate.

You look up at him, pondering your next words carefully; but before you could muster up a word, your eyes drift to his lips, only for a moment. He doesn't need a clearer impulse to proceed.

His mouth meets yours with a warm exhale that seems to bewitch you, all senses and shock diffusing into the need of being with him. Your face is hot, the skin of your waist is buzzing under his touch even through thick clothing. Your kiss is shy, despite his growing hunger. He nips at your soft lips, his right hand cradling your face, warm and calloused, yet so tender.

His left palm grazes your thigh, a reassuring safety seasoned with soft need. 

You cannot dream of stopping him. Your only concern is him ceasing at an awful time, only to return to his usual, honourable self and leave you desperate until the wedding. But he does not back away, more and more enraptured with you, the scent of you, your skin and your soft sighs. 

He kisses down your jaw, down your throat, wet, hot and open-mouthed. Your body has forgotten all about the sting of cold, leaning back onto the furs. He follows without breaking away, climbing on top of you slowly yet steadily. You moan in surprise as he begins to toy with the back strings of your dress.

“If you wish me gone, I will be gone at once, wife.” He vows.

Returning into view, he looks at you from atop, his brows soothing at the realisation that you are about to welcome him.

“Warm my bed tonight, husband.” You utter, a feather’s puff aways from his lips.

With that, he descends upon you, tasting your words on your lips, his hands cradling your liquified body like softened candle wax. You're burning up and twisting with excitement under the blazing flame of his heat. 

His hands slowly rid you of your garments, leaving you in your white shift, before slipping underneath and grabbing your waist. His touch leaves your skin aching and burning behind, his kisses mark you in a scorch palpable only to you. His touch climbs past your waist, coming to fondle the soft flesh of your breasts. Your heart beat is so strong you swear he might feel it as he softly squeezes your tit.

You shuffle in his hold, seeking to press yourself closer and closer into him, as if to become one. He indulges, himself wanting to wrap you up entirely in his embrace. Your soft breasts come flush against his hard chest, legs curling up around his waist as you receive him between your parted thighs. 

His breathing gradually becomes laboured as he moves against you, pulling the covers over you both. As he continues to caress the curves and dips of your shape, his groin brushes up against your flower and your hips betray you, dragging back up against him. With a low grunt, he frees himself from his breeches with one hand, and you pull at his chemise to fully undress him.

“Are you certain?” You inquire, out of breath.

“Always have been.” He soothes your worries with another heart-stopping kiss, sealing the premature bedding with an undoubting vow.

You feel him guide himself into you, the tip of his manhood prodding at the pink petals of your unplucked rose, claiming you. He pushes in and you gladly accept him, wet and wanting. 

“Gods, you feel amazing.” He groans above you, finally settled completely into you, before pulling back out and starting to roll his hips, steady yet hard enough to have you tensing at the sudden feeling of kindles in your womb. 

He sinks deep into you with every thrust, breathing heavy on your neck, groaning in your ear, whipping at the cold and dark of the bedchamber. You can smell the pinewood and musk on him, closer than you’ve ever been before, and it drowns out your senses, reducing you to the rapid waters of a river, bending and breaking against harsh stones of mountains, willing and united. 

You gasp out his name as the air is filled with your moans and pleas, the wood-carved bed frame ramming into the bleak stone walls of Winterfell with an echoless rhythm. 

He worships your body like you were a godly grace bestowed upon him, listening to your every sound and heeding every sign that he could do more for your pleasure. Eventually his thrusts grow urgent and scattered in between breaths, and before he can muffle your ecstatic whines with another kiss, you come, your delicate flower quivering around him, pushing him into the peak of his own satisfaction. 

You feel him throb inside, filling you with a strange, new sensation. He collapses by your side, tenderly dragging you with him. He strokes up and down your back, his breaths calming with a deep sigh.

“Is my lady still in discomfort?” He jests lightly, proud with himself and immensely content.

You snuggle at his side, head on his chest. “No. But I'm afraid I will be in need of your aid every night, my lord.”

[brailsthesmolgurl]

"Where's Mummy?"

A oneshot fluff, entirely headcanon based, featuring all 3 of the LNDS men being a father. Requested by a lovely follower of mine. Hope this is an enjoyable read for you all. The names of the kids are based on my take, but if you want to include names of kids you had thought of with your husbandos, you may slot that in on your own will!

Want some angst? Go with this series of mine, tears guaranteed: Damnation

Warnings: Fluff as per usual however, there shall be suggestive themes for this, soooo let you imagination run free :)

RAFAYEL - FATHER TO A GIRL

"I'll be fine. Stop worrying would you?" Rafayel groaned with a smile. "Our daughter will be alright." He walked beside you, accompanying you towards the front door. "I am more worried about you with your work instead. So take care of yourself, please? For our sake?"

His concern made you rolled your eyes playfully, leaning in to give him a long kiss. "I will be home by evening, I promise." Your eyes stared into those mauve purple eyes of your husband's, only to have him yank you back into his arms and pressing his lips to yours again. Provocating you into a minor makeout session. Breaths becoming heavier by every passing minute.

You bit your lip the moment he pulled away, reminiscing the feeling of his soft and tender lips against yours. "Don't want you to be late, unless you want to call in sick for the day, hmm?" He winked, a hint dropped for you to decipher. "You know I can't Rafayel." Your answer made the man pout, arms crossed, but eventually surrendering to the reality of your situation. He press a small kiss against your cheek and sent you off on your way. He stood at the entryway, watching you get onto your bike and rode it out of the front yard and onto the empty streets.

Heading back in, he sat at his usual thinking corner, eyeing the piece of artwork he had yet to finish. Thomas was expecting this piece to be done by two days ago. But an artist's work should not be rushed, Rafayel being an advocate for quality over quantity. He sighed, walking over to pick up his palette stained with an array of colours, before sitting himself in front of the artwork and continued working on his piece.

Hours had passed since then, the strokes of the painter finally stopped when his artwork is finished. He grabbed his phone off of the coffee table and called Thomas. "Rafayel, where the hell is the piece of---"

"It's done, you can come and collect it tonight once it is all dried up." Rafayel spoke, then Thomas started to inform him about the upcoming interviews that he has to attend, one for the local magazine, one for an exhibition taking place abroad... Pitters and patters of feet across the marble floor made Rafayel lost his focus. He turned around to find his daughter, Mariela awake. "Daddy duty calls."

The phone call ended abruptly, with Thomas ending his note on 'There was also an artwork you have to---' Call ended. Ever since Rafayel had taken on his duties as a father, he made sure his works are delayed long enough just so he could spend time with his own family. Recently, you had been called on for many more missions as there has been a shortage of deepspace hunters.

Rafayel and you had discussed about the delegation of responsibilities while being parents to a newborn. Rafayel insisted that you should quit your job so that you could stay at home with him and Mariela. Money not being any concern to your family to begin with. But you could not, you could not abandon your duties as a deepspace hunter, especially when there are not a lot of new recruits coming in.

So you both settled on a solution that meets both ends. Rafayel would delay his paintings and take care of Mariela if you happen to not be at home, but your sacrifice would be to not work past evening times. Him not wanting you to overexert yourself and still being able to spend time with you as a family. The miniature version of you and Rafayel clumsily walked over to him. Small and chubby hands rubbing her cheeks in circles.

"Good morning my little fishie." Rafayel knelt down and gave her a hug, a usual greeting for morning and night. "How was your sleep?"

"Good." She replied, arms curled around her father's neck as he carried her up in his arms. "Where is mummy?"

"Mummy has to work so today, you will hang out with daddy, yeah?" Rafayel sat her at her baby chair by the dining table. He took a plate of ready-made mini pancakes and poured a cup of warm milk into a cup. "Mummy even made you your favourite breakfast." The idea of having his kid eating such sugary stuffs in the morning is unfavoured. But since y/n had woken up extra early today to prepare the breakfast for her daughter, Rafayel will let it slide for this once. but we all know he too soft of a father to reject that if it ever happens again

Watching his child dig into the pancakes, Rafayel started allowing his mind to wander. Mariela's name came about while his wife was pregnant, and you had both agreed on wanting your child to have names related to the sea to remind the child's origins of being half-Lemurian. Rafayel was thrilled to have their names being related to the waters he used to live in and so the naming process is entirely within his control. Both of you settled on Mariela eventually, the name a direct representation of the star of the sea.

...

When y/n rode past the main gates and towards the yard, you found you husband, with your daughter standing next to him, waiting for you at the front of the door. Mariela the size of a toadstool next to her 6' tall father. But her big, doe-like eyes took the shade of Rafayel's, a mirror of his lilac-blue mixture. "Hey there!" You greeted excitedly, quickly pushing yourself off of your motorbike and rushed over to hug your daughter tightly in your arms.

"Mummy!" The brunette toddler giggled, arms wrapped around her mother and head tucked into your neck. The hug between the two was interrupted with Rafayel hugging both of them. Three of them within a circle of a hug. "Hi, mummy. I missed you."

"I missed you too, so so much." A big kiss was given to the toddler's cheek and they all walked further into the house. "What did you do with daddy today?"

"Daddy taught me how to draw fish and he taught me Wewuma." She spoke, a wide grin evident on her cherubic cheeks. This made y/n confused and you turned to look for Rafayel for an explanation but sees him being on the phone. Assuming it is Thomas on the other end of the line.

"That's good darling." You held her close to you, legs directing towards her bedroom. "But I think it is nap time for you okay? Mummy and daddy will make dinner and then later we are going to have pasta!" Mariela's eyes lit up at the word 'pasta', for she is a huge lover of carbs just like you. No doubt you two are of the same bloodline.

Once you had laid your daughter to nap, you started prepping the ingredients in the huge kitchen. Rafayel came by your side and hugged you from behind, breathing in your scent deeply. "I missed you wifey." He mumbled into the crooks of your neck and drew circles on the side of your hips.

"What is wewuma?" You turned over slightly, the question directed towards your husband. But his expression matches yours, confusion written all over his face. "Our daughter said you taught her wewuma today."

That sentence made Rafayel laughed, releasing you from his embrace and with him smacking his hand against the marble counter a couple of times. "Wewuma!" He continued his laugh, but mellowed down when he noticed that you became more confused than ever. "I taught her how to speak Lemurian." He said, the wide, cheeky grin not leaving his face anytime soon.

"Oh." Realisation hits you about his lesson for the day and you shake your head, chuckling at how your daughter had the word pronounced earlier. You can't blame her, as she is not a preschooler yet. Rafayel attached himself to your back again, his lips pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear and you blushed. Despite being married for quite some time, his intimate actions never failed to make you feel like a giddy teen girl.

"Lemurian is already a dying language. So, wifey..." He nibbled your ears lightly, whispering his question quietly. "How about we make one more little us?" His arms tightened around your hips and you felt something pressed against your bum, making you gasped in teasing pleasure. He turned you around forcefully and pushed you up onto the kitchen counter effortlessly, spreading your legs. "Right here. Tonight."

˚ · • . ° .

ZAYNE - FATHER TO A PAIR OF TWINS

"Thanks a lot, my love." You leaned forward to hug your husband, after knowing that he had planned an itinerary for you to get yourself pampered for a whole day. That includes making the necessary bookings and paying for all of the expenses. Not to mention the extra money he had given you so you may use it to buy anything you please from the mall you would be visiting later in your itinerary. "You deserve it. Given how much you had cared for the kids the past few days as I was busy with work." He leaned down slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead as a loving gesture. "In return, I shall take care of the kids today."

Zayne fetched you to the middle of Linkon city, where all of the activities planned out in the itinerary are located before he headed back. Not wanting to go home to his toddlers being awake from their sleep. When he arrived home, he heard the creak of a door as he was placing his shoes on the shoe rack. Lumi and Iver, hand in hand, facing their father.

"Daddy?" The both of them spoke in sync, given their connection as twins. Fraternal twins, a rare occurrence for any mothers in life. They are considered a miracle given the statistics whereas out of 100 births that happen, only 2 mothers would end up with fraternal twins. And the percentage of getting fraternal twins are way lesser as compared to conceiving twins of the same gender.

Short way to put it, y/n and Zayne have a very special family, in fact they may be one of the few families within Linkon city to have a pair of fraternal twins. Hence, they are very lucky indeed. Both of the twins were named after snow or winter season, with Zayne's evol being the main inspiration. Zayne's daughter Lumi, carries the meaning of snow and light, while Iver's name means winter in French.

Contrary to their names, none of them have any features that are pale as the cold weather, except for their milky white skin. There had always been a debate on which child inherited the looks of which parent, in this case, Lumi looks like her mother and Iver takes on his father's looks. And it could easily be differentiated from their hair and eye colour.

"Both of you just woke up?" Zayne's voice was gentle, going over to both of his kids and bending down to their eye level. They are both 3 years old, so you can imagine how tough it was for him to lower his height just to meet their eyes. "What do you want to eat?"

"Daddy, can we watch you make eggs?" Iver asked, his hazel green orbs twinkled under the sun rays shining in through their sky light. "The ones that are flat?" He even used his hand to draw a line in the air, to demonstrate the word 'flat' to his father.

Zayne smiled, nodding his head and walked towards the kitchen with the two toddlers bobbing behind him. Their standard breakfast had consisted of nothing but nutritious food which are vital for their growths. For their father is a doctor afterall. Zayne sat them both into their respective baby chairs and put on an apron, not wanting to dirty his outfit, and he started to cook, with the twins watching his every move. A few 'wah' and 'daddy, daddy, do it again!' slipping from their mouths every once in a while when Zayne does something out of the blue.

Half of the day passed, Lumi and Iver sat in the living room after Zayne had given them a bath and a change of clothings. They will be heading out soon for dinner. Zayne has never been a huge fan of cooking, but only does it out of necessity. The same rule applies even now, breakfasts can be done at home but for dinners, if time allows for both of the parents, Zayne would much rather eat out with his family.

"Daddy, time! Time!" Lumi shouted from the living room when they heard the cuckoo's chime, hailing from the handmade wooden clock that you bought a while ago. Although the toddlers had yet to enter pre-school, they are both surprisingly fast-learners. 9 months in, both of them had already started learning alphabets, and by now, their vocabulary has expanded beyond the age of usual three year olds. You strongly believe Zayne's genes are the cause behind this.

Zayne appeared from the room, a long-sleeved black turtleneck clad to his well-built physique, his iconic black slacks makes yet another appearance, and his hand held a dark grey coat. The weather was getting chilly and he decided to bring along a coat for you, the colour identical to his.

"Lumi, Iver, get your coats and I will help you to wear them." Zayne instructed, picking his car key off of the key holder on the wall. He had decided to go with the Maserati Levante i am not sponsored by them but the cars does scream his taste today, a comfortable SUV for his family of four.

"It's okay daddy. Iver will help me." Lumi responded, arms held up horizontally as Iver put on one of the sleeves for her light grey coat, then running over to the other side to help her to put on the remaining sleeves. "My turn." Lumi did the same for her sibling. When they are both done, they walked over to Zayne and held their arms up in sync again, urging their father silently to help them to tie their coats.

Zayne did just that, hair as dark as the night cascading in front his face when he bent down to help his kids tied a knot to secure their coats. Satisfied at the way their knots turned out, he gave each of them a kiss on their cheeks. "Are you both excited to see mummy?"

"YES!" Both of the kids shouted, arms raising, a sign of elatedness. Zayne held onto both of their hands, one on each side and slowly walked them to the car.

...

Zayne had chosen a western restaurant for dinner, reservation timing marked at 6pm. Now, here he sat, with both of his kids secured tightly behind in baby car seats. He was parked temporarily at the valet parking, patiently waiting for his wife. Soft piano music was played in the car to ease the silence as the kids were sound asleep in the back.

Seeing a familiar figure closing in, Zayne got out of the car and walked towards the passenger side, greeting you with a warm hug. "I could not have asked for a better day to pamper myself." You sighed contently, face flat against his chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne. A scent he would only use whenever he is out with you, a soft mix of pine wood and oakwood as the top notes, vanilla as the middle notes and cinnamon as end notes. A scent you are all too familiar with.

"Then I shall plan more of this for you." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. "You must be hungry, I had already booked us a table at one of the nearby restaurants." He opened the car door and you got into the car. Getting into the car, he added. "The kids are sound asleep behind, I will wake them up once we arrived at the restaurant."

"Hello my babies." You greeted once the car door to the back was opened, watching your twins stirred in their sleep, before eyes slowly fluttering open.

"Iver..." Zayne cooed to his son, standing on the other side of the door, unbuckling the baby seats for the twins. "We had arrived at the restaurant. Let me give you a lift, alright?" You had never imagine Zayne with kids, given how cold he is of a person. Not mean and ignorant, but just, monotonous, quiet and calm. Having kids with him was unexpected, but him asking for kids was even more shocking.

The young man lifted his son into his arms, smoothing the back of his son's coat to make sure he is fully covered from the brazen cold wind and he headed in after locking the car. With you, holding onto your half-awake daughter behind in, walking swiftly into the restaurant.

The dinner was enjoyable, with the twins munching on to their kids meals and with you sat next to Zayne, having a delectable meal based on the waiter's recommendation. "The food here is good." You commented and your twins looked up, Lumi smiled and nodded, while Iver, with his face stuffed, nodded as well. "So what have you kids been doing today?"

"We watched cartoons." Lumi said, eyes mimicking your eye colours radiating her giddiness. You assumed the cartoons would be more educational rather than entertaining as Zayne does prefer the twins having to gain some form of knowledge from the cartoons. For him, the method is practically killing two birds with one stone. "Daddy also read some storybooks for us." Iver added in, still chewing onto his food, which made Zayne leaned forward to wipe the boy's lips clean with the napkin. "And we took a nap on daddy's chest."

"Be careful of choking, Iver." Zayne warned, his tone soft, giving him son's cheek a soft pinch. Zayne's lips tugged upwards, there is no way he could be mad at his own twins. That is how much he loves them.

"That is good to hear. Sounds like an eventful day for today. And I think daddy did a great job." You happily stated, resuming your meal. A hand on your thigh made you jerked slightly and you looked over, your husband's smile had exchanged for a smirk.

"It is my responsibility to take good care of the kids." He eyed the twins, and facing back to you, his orbs turning a shade darker. "But, it is also my responsibility to make my wife feel good. Mentally..." He trailed off, hands smoothing up your thighs till his thumb glided slowly over your intimate area. The table cloth a good disguise as Zayne's fingers worked his way to pull your panties to the side, collecting the wetness that was pooled there.

You shot daggers towards your husband as this is a public area but he paid no mind to you. The tip of his middle finger, the one adorning the wedding ring, slowly pushed its' way inside of you, pumping an agonizing pace into you. "And physically, of course." pls do this to me too Zayne, i want more babies too

˚ · • . ° .

XAVIER - FATHER TO A SON

"DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!" Lucian came bursting in through the door leading to his parent's room, causing Xavier to stir in his sleep. Eyebrows furrowed at the loud sounds of his son's voice at the early start of the weekend. The copy of Xavier jumped onto the bed and grabbed ahold of his father. "Wake up daddy!"

"Yeah, yeah I am awake now." Xavier yawned, rubbing his eyes with one hand and the other coming up to secure his son on him so he don't fall off. "What's the matter?"

"Mummy said you can take me to go get ice-cream today." His light blue eyes just a tone lighter than his father's when he propped himself up on his father's chest, patiently awaiting for a response. "Daddy please?"

"Okay okay." Xavier chuckled, hugging his son tight in his arms and the young boy laughed. With that, Xavier got out of the bed, with Lucian in his embrace. The hallways outside of the room wafted the smell of noodles and he knew immediately that you are still within the house.

But he was wrong, when he saw you being all dressed up, in a white t-shirt and blue jeans, sitting at the front of your door when you are tying the shoelaces to your sneakers. "Where are you going?" Xavier asked.

You turned at the sound of his voice and watched as Lucian was placed onto the floor by his father and the little boy came running to hug you. "I am heading to the mall with Tara for a little while. She needed me to help her pick out a dress." Standing up, you checked your outfit in the standing mirror for one last time. "At the meantime, you okay with bringing Lucian out for ice-cream?"

Xavier smiled and nodded obediently, taking long strides to press a loving kiss to his wife's lips and he sees her off. Lucian waving his small hands to say bye-bye to his own mother. "Have you eaten yet kiddo?" Xavier asked his son, only for the toddler to shake his head. "Alright, come on, let's have breakfast together. Then we will go for ice-cream later."

Xavier placed Lucian into the baby seat at the dining table and he took off the lid of the pot that was on the stove and he noticed that you had made tomato soup noodles. A dish that you had recently learned from social media. Your first try at making this dish however, was a failure. With Xavier finishing the tasteless noodles and struggling with diarrhea for the next few days. This time, he had his fingers crossed, hoping that the soup would be edible and not cause any unwanted effects.

Before giving the bowl to his son, Xavier tasted the soup base first, to taste if it would be too hot for his son to ingest. To his surprise, the soup was sweet and tangy, which marks a win for your cooking this time. He hungrily filled up his own bowl, before scooping a few spoonfuls of soup and noodles into Lucian's bowl. He also made sure to cut the noodles short enough so it would not cause Lucian to choke on his own food.

"Did mummy made this?" The 3 year old asked, eyes wide, moving in between his father's lips, and to his bear-shaped plastic bowl. Lucian have had a fair share of his father's cooking. The experience of watching his father cook was just as traumatic as eating the food his father had made. There was even this one time, Xavier nearly set the kitchen on fire because he added in some cooking wine into a very hot pan filled with oil and that made Lucian cried for the whole night.

"Yes, your mum made this." Xavier ate his noodles, slurping onto it like a champ. "If she asks me to make breakfast for you, we can just skip breakfast and go for ice-cream instead." Xavier acknowledges his incompetence when it comes to cooking, and it is the only one thing he would not dare to compete with you. he just cant cook anything that deals with fire or electric, just admit it with me boys and girls

...

"Daddy, what do you want?" Lucian asked his father, looking at the flavours that was on display. "Do you want the blue one? Or the green one? Or the red one?" He swung his short legs back and forth, all the while sitting on Xavier's shoulders. The little one did not feel like walking earlier on and that was why Xavier gave him a lift on his shoulders.

"Which one would you like kiddo?" Xavier smiled politely at the waitress behind the counter and the waitress returned the smile, a blush coming onto her face. Who would not blush at the sight of a good looking young man with a son that looks just exactly like him? "How about the blue and red one?"

"Okay!" The young boy excitedly agreed, watching the process of the ice-creamed getting scooped out of the canister and placed onto a cone. Xavier slowly lowered his son down and held onto the hand of the young boy before making the payment at the counter. "Thank you!" Lucian spoke to the cashier when the ice-cream was handed to him and they both took a seat by the window in the store, facing the streets.

Xavier had always wanted a boy, the sole purpose being he could train the son well enough so you can be protected. You were not buying into his idea to begin with but the moment you found out that you were pregnant with a boy, Xavier could not be more than glad. He was so happy to the point he said. "We should name him Lucian, as he shall be the light in our lives." Xavier's words touched your heart and since then, Lucian has been the light in both of your hearts. just like you are the light in OUR HEARTS hello?

The young boy took a lick out of the blue ice-cream, then switched to the red ice-cream and took another lick. Seeing his tongue turning purple, Xavier pointed at his son. "Your tongue is turning purple because of the ice-cream, kiddo." Taking his phone out, he took a picture of Lucian with his purple tongue hanging out of his mouth. He then sent the picture to you, with the caption 'Brain Freeze'.

"Daddy, here." Lucian stretched his arm out, the ice cream in hand and held it in front of his father's face. Xavier took it as an invitation and he took a big bite out of the ice-cream. His action made the young boy flabbergasted, mouth forming an 'O' when he realised that his father just bit off a whole chunk and now he is left with a few more lick of ice cream.

The son's intense gaze at the ice-cream made Xavier felt guilty that he took such a huge bite. His son was not much a naggy child, but he still would not want to upset his little boy. "I'm sorry kiddo, I can---" He wanted to offer to buy the boy another ice-cream but Lucian only laughed, his tone amused.

"That is so funny daddy, when you go AHHH---" Lucian mimicked the way Xavier bit the ice-cream, mouth widely opened and face all crinkled up to show just how big of a bite Xavier had conducted. His son's reaction made Xavier laughed as well, Never knowing his son has such a sense of humour.

The door opened, chiming of the bells at the door could be heard and Xavier looked up, seeing you walking in with a bag in your hands. "Hey boys!" You called out and Lucian turned in his seat and called out to you, arms opened and waiting for you to hug him. Xavier took the ice-cream out of his son's hand so he would not dirty your shirt and he stood up, taking his place to stand next to you.

"How was the outing with Tara?" Xavier took the bag from you and pulled a chair over from the other table as you set your son back down onto his chair. The ice-cream that your husband was holding previously was returned to its rightful owner.

"It was eventful. We only managed to find the dress she wanted at the highest floor." You fanned yourself, sweat beading at your forehead. Your husband took a piece of tissue out of the tissue holder and he dabbed it across your forehead, not wanting to ruin your makeup since you are still on an outing with him. "Thanks a lot."

"No problem." Xavier purposely avoided your gaze, hiding his smile. "The tomato-based noodle soup you made this morning is very good by the way. I enjoyed every bite of it." He complimented, looking over to his son and noticing the young boy, staring out of the window, in the direction of two kids playing by the park, chasing one another.

"Daddy, mummy." Your son's voice beckoned the both of you to turn your heads to face him. His stubby little fingers pressed against the window, pointing towards the two kids at the park. "Can I have a brother?" The way he phrased the questions sounded like siblings could be bought off of a shelf. Your jaw dropped.

But Xavier was expecting this, expecting the fact he would not just settle for one child. He loves you so much, not only as his lover, but he also loves the way you look, with your stomach bulging during the days you are pregnant, carrying a miniature version of him inside. And not to mention, he enjoys the process of giving you a baby. Just the thought of seeing you pregnant again, his cerulean eyes catch yours, similar to a gaze of a predator awaiting to jump onto its prey. He reached his hand out to take yours on the table, giving it a small squeeze of comfort.

"Of course you can." Xavier's gaze darkened, hungry for intimacy. He dragged his fingertips up and down your arms, and stopping right at the back of your hand to draw mindless circles on it. Doing all that without getting his eyes off of you. "Daddy will not stop until you get a brother."

Sorry this took wayyy longer than expected, the toughest part was to find the pictures that would match the faces of the kids and also having to do research for their names and figuring our scenarios that would make the fathers take care of their kids. Other than Rafayel, Zayne and Xavier are going to be out most of the time due to their work!

But I had fun creating this piece, hope you guys enjoyed this! Lots of love <3

[flaggermuser]

When You Loved Me

1,209 words || Fluff, Spoilers for Season 4 Episode 4, Hurt/Comfort, GN Reader, Doctor Reader, Happy Ending, Childhood Trauma ||

Inspired by the idea that at least one doctor would have formed an attachment.

Thank you to @bisexualhomelander for being my beta

They're nearly all dead, there's just one loose end that Homelander needs to tie up.

So he stands outside the unassuming house, ready to cross the final name off his list, which he found in an old abandoned file documenting his ‘development’.

It was a stroke of luck that he found you - it seemed as if Vogelbaum scrubbed you from all official records.

Determined to finish what he's started, he knocks on your door and waits impatiently, ready to strike you down where you stand.

“I’m coming!”

He freezes, his entire body tensing up as your voice unlocks memories from his time in the lab, ones buried deep somewhere at the back of his mind.

A frightened and hurt little boy being held, being comforted after the incinerator and the other horrible forms of torture he was subjected to.

“Shhh, it's okay, you're okay. I'm here. Shall we read another story?”

The door slowly opens and there you are. 

Now that he's seen your face, the memories are more vivid. There’s still that kindness in your eyes, the one he saw every night before he went to sleep. 

At least, for a few months before you disappeared.

“Hello, John.” Your smile is still as warm as he remembers. “My, how you’ve grown. Come in, come in!”

With trepidation, he slowly enters, unsure of what he’ll find. It’s homely, filled with curiosities and everything he’s ever associated with a true American home. As he follows you into your living room, he notices some of the pictures on the wall with you and your former colleagues at Vought, some of whom he’s already killed.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“A glass of milk would be nice,” he replies, trying his best to smile while conflicting thoughts swirl in his mind.

He was so convinced that you were like the others that had you not spoken, he would have killed you the moment you opened the door.

“Well take a seat, I’ll be right back.”

He takes a seat on your couch, hands in his lap, looking around the room again. That’s when he notices the mantelpiece, covered in photos and newspaper clippings, all in ornate frames.

Not of your family - of him. They’re all of him.

Taking pride of place in the middle of the mantelpiece is a picture from several years ago.

“Don't worry John, it's just a camera. All I'm going to do is take a picture of just the two of us. I promise it won't hurt.”

He's sat on your lap, your arms around him, holding him tightly, protectively, a smile on your face.

He’s smiling too. He’s happy. He’s with you.

They took you from me.

“Here we go,” your return snaps him back to reality, his eyes softening as he notices the glass of milk in your hand and a plate of cookies in your other, settling it down on the coffee table in front of him.

It’s such a sweet gesture.

You take a seat in a nearby armchair, “It’s so wonderful to see you again.”

After all these years, you’re still this beacon of absolute kindness.

“Do I call you John or Homelander?”

“John.”

How did I forget how lovingly you said my name? How did I forget you?

“I’m so proud of you, you’ve done so well. And look at you, you’re The Homelander! Leader of the Seven!”

His lower lip quivers, trying to keep himself together but it’s proving harder. Your praise comes from a place of pure love, something he’s never experienced or at least, he can’t remember experiencing.

“I see you’ve noticed the mantel. I know I must seem mad but I’ve been following your progress.”

You cared about me, you care about me, it’s all genuine.

“You were so young when I last saw you, with that lovely little smile.”

You reach out to take his hand but he pulls away, only so he can take off his glove. It looks so small in his, he knows if he squeezes just a little, all your bones would be crushed to dust.

But he won't.

“The things we did. Oh John, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that I didn’t do anything to save you. I should've stood up to Vogelbaum, I should've protected you."

Saved him, protected him - the regret is written all over your face.

They regretted their actions too, only after he reminded them. Then they apologised but it was too late for them, maybe it’s still too late for you. 

He squeezes your hand, trying to comfort you. 

“You know, I think about you every day. I wanted to reach out but I figured Vogelbaum would have any attempt at contact blocked, especially from me. All because I chose to be human.”

Human. They were human too and they tortured me.

It’s clear that is a sore subject for you, nowhere near as painful for him but the fact it makes you sad somehow makes him feel better. It shows that you cared.

“They fired me for ‘interfering with the experiment’ but how could I not?! You were scared, you were crying and they left you all alone in that horrid room.”

The bad room.

“I couldn’t just leave you there to cry yourself to sleep. So I volunteered to take the night shift. Do you remember… remember the first time?”

His jaw tightens, desperately searching his mind for even the tiniest hint of a recollection yet all of the torment he was subjected to has buried everything deeper. 

“You were terrified that I was going to hurt you, your eyes glowed red and you trembled. I knew you didn’t want to hurt me but you would if you had to.”

You understood.

“It took you a few minutes to realise I wouldn’t hurt you - I think it was the books under my arm that convinced you I wasn’t a threat.”

A single flash - “Would you like me to read you a story?”

“I sat down on your bed, you sat on my lap and we read story, after story, after story. Until you didn’t want me to read anymore, you just wanted me to hold you. So I did exactly that.”

He desperately wants to remember, he needs to remember. 

“Then Vogelbaum found out, I must have forgotten to turn the cameras off and I was removed from the project. I should’ve fought for you, I should’ve marched right back in there and demanded to take you. But I didn’t.”

But you’re here now. They’re all dead but you’re still here.

“I forgive you,” it slips out of his mouth, however, this time it’s heartfelt. He means this without malice.

You’re the parent he’d always wanted, living in a house he always dreamed of, serving him milk and cookies like he’s still that young boy you cared about.

Maybe it wasn’t too late, maybe there could be something here, born from the ashes of your past sin and his trauma.

Sniffling, you wipe away your tears, tightening your grip on his hand. When the smile returns, it’s affectionate and all for him.

“I want you to know, John. I need you to know, that you’ll always have a place here and in my heart."

[senseichaos]

hi hi! That one-shot you did with Alastor broadcasting his and reader's..."love-making" was rather delicious but I can't help but think of you know..aftercare. It was quite rough and I'd love to see Alastor being sweet and sorta guilty for going so roughly cause we both know...reader was bleeding after😭😭😭

Yess I love writing aftercare and when I saw this I was immediately wanting to write it ! Thank you

"Pathetic" But still a princess,

Summary: Alastor roughed you up quite badly in your last.. fornication session.. so as to make it a more happy evening he gives you some very much needed aftercare! (Part 2 to "Pathetic")

Genre: Fluff, romance, slight sexual undertones

Warnings: Swearing, blood, Alastor is kinda bipolar considering how much more soft he acts in this compared to the last part, love confessions, lmk if I missed any

NOT EDITED NOR PROOFREAD (YET)

______

Alastor carries you the entire way to his room, not wanting to rough up your brain by teleporting to his room. And oddly he sort of enjoyed the intimacy of it all. It's weird, Alastor is never really one to enjoy intimacy, but this odd time he feels nice giving you this comfort.

As he enters his room, he makes sure to lock the door behind him so no one comes in whilst he bathes you, and with a smile to you walks to his suite. The suite isn't the largest but it's big enough that when he places you on the side of the bath he can walk around you with ease.

"Alastor I think I'm bleeding," You say, looking at some scratches on your thigh as Alastor takes off his overcoat and folds it neatly. He gives you a soft look, placing his coat to the side.

"Well of course you are darling! My fawn had to learn her lesson somehow, hm?" Alastor says with a small chuckle, squatting down (his knees clicking as he does so) to turn on the water of the bath. You roll your eyes, fiddling with the fabric of your shirt as you contemplate taking it off.

"Take off your shirt, dear, it's nothing I haven't seen before," Alastor commands with a rather teasing tone, arranging the correct soap to put inside of your bath. You nod, pulling off your shirt and bra, discarding them onto the floor next to the bath. You almost cover yourself, but understand if you did Alastor would probably tell you off.

After the bath fills a bit Alastor taps the side of the bath, capturing your attention.

"You can get in now, fawn. It should be warm enough," He says, and you give him a small nod. Rather awkwardly with your pained thighs you manage to crawl yourself into the bath, Alastor does end up helping you a bit when you almost faceplant into the water, shifting you so you sit with a weirdly empathetic look for him.

"Now let's not fall on our face, shall we. I'd rather not have you more injured than you are already,"

You giggle, leaning up and squishing his cheek playfully.

"Awe you care about me, that's new," you say, and he takes your hand off of his face with a stern look.

"I wouldn't call it 'new', you just haven't seen it yet," He says, and you give him a confused look as he starts pouring some bubble soap into the bath.

"What haven't I seen?"

He laughs, shaking his head as he begins mixing in the soap with his hand.

"Me caring about you, silly doe," He chuckles, ruffling your hair with his wet hand. This causes you to shake the water off and give him an annoyed look.

"Give me an example,"

He looks up for a moment, thinking of an instance where he's shown care for you.

"Well, how about earlier today when I told you not to drink the tea because it was hot?" He asks, turning the water pressure on the hot water slightly higher. You roll your eyes, pulling your aching knees to your chest as the water around you rises.

"Oh so what, the bare minimum.. how caring of you Alastor,"

"Now don't get pissy with me, dear. I was only giving you an example of my caring for you," He chuckles, giving your nose a soft boop as he continues mixing the water. You notice his sleeve is dangerously close to the water, so you push his hand from the water slowly.

"Careful, you're gonna get your sleeves wet," You say, and Alastor smiles slightly wider.

"Don't worry about it, my dear. It's nothing I can't handle," He says, his green magic surrounding his sleeves and rolling them up to just above his elbows. "You shouldn't have to worry about something so small as my sleeves,"

Your eyes go glossy with tears at the odd affection in his voice. It's something you've never heard from him before. Sure there's the empty compliments, the empty pecks, but this is different. It's as if he loves you.

"Do you really care about me, Alastor?"

Alastor furrows his brows, turning off the hot water tap as the bath is full enough with water. He leans over, pushing his hand against your cheek as he leans there.

"Of course I do, my dear," he pauses, looking into the distance for a moment as if contemplating. "And I do apologize for being so rough with you today, you had to learn your lesson somehow,"

You giggle, pushing his hand away and leaning against the back of the bath.

"It's okay Alastor, I liked it more than I'd like to admit,"

Alastor rolls his eyes at this, grabbing a sponge from the corner of the bath.

"Charming, my fawn," He says, putting his sponge into the water and squeezing it so the soapy water fills it. He begins to scrub you with it, staring with your face as he pushes your hair from your face, holding you there by it.

"Fuck you, as if you didn't enjoy it either!"

He laughs, scrubbing your nose as you scrunch your eyes.

"Well of course I did dear, I wouldn't have initiated it if I hadn't, hm?" Alastor hums, moving to scrub your other cheek. You sputter on a cough, your eyes squinting at the way he scrubs you. He just chuckles, scrubbing your chin and jaw.

"Do you really have to clean the entirety of me?" You ask, biting your lower lip as he tilts your head back by your hair. Alastor continues to scrub your chin, moving to the other side of your jaw.

"Well of course I do, a clean fawn is a happy fawn." He says, pinching your cheek and cooing in a sort of cute fashion. Rolling your eyes you attempt to splash water at him, only for the water to be caught up in his green magic and placed back into the water.

"Now don't try anything silly, fawn,"

You moan in annoyance, hissing when his sponge begins to scrub the raw skin on your neck from the collar he had you in. The skin is bruised and even as a couple cuts from the force he used. You wonder what he thinks about when he looks at the damage. Does he find it funny? Does it feed a possessiveness in him? Does he feel guilty?

"What do you think about when you see the marks on me?" You ask out of the blue, against your better judgement.

Much to your surprise, Alastor just tilts his head in acknowledgement before speaking.

"Hm, well I feel a tad proud, and I feel a tad guilty. But, I also feel like I want to eat you up!" He answers, ending his sentence in a teasing manor. But you don't miss the slight hunger in his eyes at the thought. You narrow your eyes, speaking: "Please don't,"

"Oh I wouldn't, dear. It's just a tad fun to think about," He says with a humor in his voice, and you can't help but laugh. Alastor moves his hand from your hair, placing it on your neck as he pushes your head back with his thumb.

"Bet you'd get your rocks off to it," You chuckle, biting on your cheek uncomfortably as Alastor scrubs the back of your neck. His eyes darken slightly, tilting your head down to get better access to the back of your neck.

"Don't tempt me, fawn," He says softly, pressing the spong to your collarbone to clean the slightly bruised area. Hissing in pain you flinch away from Alastor as his sponge brushes onto a cut. He gives you a sort of stern yet understanding look, reaching out for your arm to pull you closer to him again as soft as possible.

"Sorry my dear, it's going to hurt," Alastor apologizes, setting his hand back onto your neck so he can scrub your shoulders. Once again you hiss when the sponge hits a sensitive area of raw skin, but this time you stay put.

"You know I don't think it's fair that you get to sit outside of the bath.. how are you gonna clean my legs!" You ask, Alastor just humors you with a chuckle.

"Like this,"

He spins you around gently so your legs are hanging off the edge of the bath, dripping water down to the tiled flooring below. He takes a hold of your left ankle and begins scrubbing your foot, causing you to begin giggling at the way he scrubs the ticklish area.

"Ah! That tickles..!" You laugh, clasping your damp hands over your mouth as he continues scrubbing your foot. Alastor doesn't acknowledge you, instead going to scrub down your calf.

"I still think this is unfair, what if I want to clean you!"

"I had a bath this morning, no point in bathing again," He says with an obvious tone. You roll your eyes, looking up at the roof as he continues to clean your left leg.

"Can I at least wash you another time?"

"Maybe If you continue to be steadfast in no longer entering my studio unprompted, fawn," He answers, leaning over you as he finishes your left leg, beginning to clean your stomach.

"I'm bored.." You groan, leaning your head back into the splashback of the bath. Alastor narrows his eyes, and suddenly a tentacle with another sponge appears behind you, pushing you before beginning to clean your back.

"What a needy thing you are,". He says, causing you to huff out in displeasure. To your surprise he leans over you even more, even slightly towering over you as he cleans your breasts. It makes you blush, really. Having him tower over you like this in almost a lascivious manor whilst doing the most domestic of things. He's just cleaning you, for Christ sake!

"Alastor,"

"Hm?"

You wonder. Does he love you? You want to ask it so badly. When he towers over you like this and cleans every crevice of your body does his heart clench? Does his body feel warm? Does he get those butterflies that you do? You wonder.

"Do you love me?"

He stops moving, both him and his tentacle which had started cleaning your lower back.

His eyes reflect a myriad of emotions, many of which you can't even begin to fathom. He seems almost on edge. As if your question had sent him into his brain completely.

"I.. I think I might in my own.." he pauses, placing his pointer finger against his chin in thought. "Immoral ways,"

"Immoral?"

He continues to wash you, along with the tentacle, seeming to have gotten his point across enough to continue what he was doing.

"I'm not a moral demon, dear. When I think of you I want to devour you, but, I also want to hold you,"

Devour you?

"Well, I love you Alastor.."

"I love you too, fawn. Now let's get to cleaning your hair, shall we?"

You groan, pouting in annoyance at the thought of spending another 30 minutes in this bath. Though Alastor just laughs to himself, squeezing your cheek.

"How cute you are when you're all mad at me, hm?"

You stick out your tongue at him.

Normal, well as normal as you can be, once again.

[obae-me]

How many kisses I think it would take before he turns to mush

My creativity has been stuck in essentially a rush hour traffic jam for like weeks, so let's write something silly for practice, shall we?

Lucifer

Definitely ten or more. He tries to keep his composure, to focus on the task at hand, scold you for coddling him and distracting him, but if you hold onto your stubbornness and see it through to the end, he will be putty in your hands soon after you reach double digits. He might even fall faster if you give him little bits of praise after every kiss.

Mammon

Three MAX. One to catch him off guard, one to make it really sink in, and then the third to land the final blow. No amount of tsundere will outlast the triple attack. He'll be following you around like a lost puppy for the rest of the day, almost demanding more. He's greed after all, three might've broken him, but he'll be damned if he doesn't get more.

Levi

I would be tempted to say just one is enough, but we want a soft boy, not a vibrating, anxious mess. He gets tense at first, and he needs some reassurance and some time to understand that he likes and is okay what is happening. So I'm going to say five or more kisses. The first few he's just stuttering and blushing, but soon after, he can put that aside and just allow himself to relax a bit.

Satan

He acts like it takes him just as long as Lucifer, reaching double digits, when in reality he gave in internally much much earlier than that. Four is when his heart is melting and his mind is screaming, but around eight is when his body starts to unwind, almost curling around you like a cat.

Asmo

Much higher than you would expect. One must bridge the initial flirting phase before he becomes a puddle. I'm going to say probably six kisses. The first three he'll be giddy, but if you get softer with each kiss, he'll slowly start to become speechless.

Beel

As long as there isn't food in the way, just one. One kiss is all it takes. This demon has just so much love in him, you hardly need to kiss him for him to be soft for you. He doesn't need to put up an act. Just give him a single smooch and he'll drop whatever he's doing to cuddle into you.

Belphie

So many kisses. Probably even more than Lucifer. He feels like he deserves your kisses anyway, so it's hard to get him flustered about it, especially when he's so spoiled. Besides, you have to hope your affection won't lull him to sleep. Over ten for sure. Just keep going. Eventually, he'll be overwhelmed and give up his sleepy smug nature and transform into fluff.

Diavolo

Look me in the eyes and tell me this touch starved man will not cave after like two or three. He's not used to kisses, so the first kiss has his brain lagging. Hit him with the double combo and he's gone. Wasted. Fatality. Although please just kiss him more than twice. He really likes it.

Barbatos

Too many to count, unfortunately. He likes it, don't get him wrong, he's just tough to break. But there must be a breaking point somewhere. Keep attacking him with kisses and surely he must give in eventually, although most likely by his own will, giving in just so you can catch a proper breath. A win is a win.

Simeon

Probably no more than four, although it seems like more than that because he'll often return to sender and kiss you back. Don't give in, you must stay strong before he makes you melt first. Hum as you kiss him and he'll fall faster, almost cooing.

Solomon

He's got a stronger will than most, almost as good as Barbatos, but he will melt in due time. He'll treat it like a game at first, which it almost is to you, but he doesn't have to know that. It takes a while, but when he melts, he melts fast. He'll be trying to chuckle and make light of it one moment, and then be a completely speechless mess the next.

[candysunoo]

ೋ◦ ❀❀ Lee Heeseung as a

Bridgerton story ❀❀ ◦ೋ•

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ೋ◦dearest gentle-reader ◦ೋ•

❀my name is lady whistledown. you do not know me, and rest assured, you never shall. but be forewarned dear reader, I certainly know you.❀

───── · · ୨୧ · · ─────

ೋ◦ ❀❀ Lee Heeseung x F!reader - Queen Charlotte ❀❀◦ೋ• 18+ MDNI

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ೋ◦ ❀❀ chapter content warning: unedited with run on sentences, strangers - to kind of friends- to lovers, traditional gender roles, 1700’s societal expectations, arranged/ forced marriage, bitchy mother-in-law, mentions of parental death, mentions of mental health ( mainly illusions to bipolar disorder and hallucinations ) and feeling like an outsider, medical malpractice, mention of feeling unloved and trapped in a marriage, SMUT, sex (like 2 scenes + illusions to more ), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, put that wiener in a blanket), loss of virginity, slight breeding kink , praise, body worship, fingering, mention of pregnancy and birth, angst and fluff, idiots in love, ❀❀◦ೋ• lmk if i forgot anything

ೋ◦ ❀❀ word count: 11.8k ❀❀◦ೋ•

❀ story starts under the cut! please enjoy! - Kei ❀

❀ also i deeply apologize for acidently setting the release date on auto post wring plz forgive me. Also i will be releasing a message to the rude anons i got because there is a certain way to conduct yourself and that was not it 💕 regardless please enjoy and ignore my awful formatting 😭- kei ❀

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to enha bridgerton au masterlist ❀❀◦ೋ•

ೋ◦ ❀❀ link to total masterlist ❀❀◦ೋ•

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Today felt different. The air around you felt stiff, and it seemed as if all the staff’s eyes had lingered on you for too long. Their eyes filled with pity.  Looks that you knew all too well. After your parents had passes away those looks were all you got for the longest time. Pity for the beloved daughter of the king and queen. A young princess of ten and two. A princess made to rely on her older brother, of only ten and five, a young man who now was taking over the throne as the head of the country. Your country was small, a speck of dust in the seemingly never-ending universe of other counties. Compared to the massive land-locked nations around you, your island was quaint and for the most part rather peaceful and not to mention almost two months’ boat journey away from any other country. You loved your country and took great pride in being its princess, going to charity events and doing all that you could with what little power was given to you. Nevertheless, things couldn’t stay peaceful for long. As you neared your twentieth birthday it seemed as if your quiet little country had gained attention that you never thought it would. People from neighboring nations had made their way over and found joy in the culture and life your country provides. Some a little too much. Your brother, however, had told you not to worry as it was beyond you, and you shouldn’t have concerned yourself with it. So, as much as you despised leaving it be you did, as your trust in your brother outweighed that of anything else.

As you walked down the cream and white hallways of the palace, decorated with paintings of people you hardly knew and busts of people long passed, you heard your brother speaking quietly with someone in his study. Approaching the wide door, you pushed your long-hooped skirt back, leaning forward at your waist and peaking your head into the doorframe being careful not to be seen or draw any attention to yourself. Your eyes settled on your brother and a tall, pale, dark-haired man standing at the corner of his desk peering down at several documents. The tall, pale, dark-haired man was dressed in a well pressed white and red suit. “… And once you sign here everything will be confirmed and finalized. A ship will be ready to set sale in the next few days.” The man’s deep voice whispered quietly as he traced the lines of script messily written down on the parchment paper placed in front of them. Your brother silently nodded, eyes darting across the paper, reading carefully, hesitating to sign. Finally, your brother looked up at the man, “and I have word that she will be taken care of? That she will not be harmed and forced to live a life unbecoming of her?” The man simply gave a curt nod, “by word of the queen of great Brittan and Ireland, yes, she will be taken care of and provided a life fit for the future queen and mother of a future heir.” In hearing his response your brother nodded, placing his quill into the jar of ink and signing the documents.

Your heartbeat quickened and your breaths became short. Your brother the only man, person really, you could rely on had just sold you off to some random stranger. Well not entirely random, he sold you off to the king. King Heeseung. You whipped up, stumbling back and slightly knocking into a bust behind you, rocking it off its collum and crashing loudly on the floor. The maid passing by jumped at the noise. Rapidly you regained your posture and ran away swiftly as your brother and the man made their way out of his study. Your brother sighed, putting his head in his hands and sweeping his hair back. The man accompanying him looked at him with disbelief as your brother assured him everything would be fine and the two of you would arrive at the port in the coming days to make the log journey to England. Silently the man once again nodded, collecting the signed documents and making his way out of the palace.

With quick haste your brother followed after you, desperately calling out your name. With deep breaths you turned to face him, your skirt flipping around as your body turned. “How could you? How could you sell me off? Sell me off to a man you’ve never met? For what brother, what did you sell me off for?” your eyes pleaded with him as your voice began to crack, tears brimming on the edge of your lashes. Your brother looked at you, hand gently coming up and wiping away the tears that had finally been released. “My dearest sister, you know that never in my years would I ever imagine hurting you or leaving you in a position to fend for yourself” he breathed in deeply “ I did this for us, you must understand that we are not in a good position, every day the larger countries around us send more soldiers and I fear that we are one step closer to becoming just another victim. In marrying you off not only have I secured your future. One where you will be treated with respect and dignity. One where you will live the finest life and be able to have beautiful children. But also, one where we have the support of one of the largest nations in the known world. Where our tiny island can become peaceful once again. And yes, perhaps we do not know much about the king, however, I have on good word that he will be nothing but kind towards you.”  Your brother pulled you into a hug, gently stroking the back of your hair, “You will be perfectly fine, dear sister I will be with you until I can no longer.” Nodding you hugged your brother back, deciding that it is something you must do for not only your brother but the country you love most dearly.

Various thoughts swam around in your head as the carriage made its way down the cobblestone path. It had been a long journey at sea, but you had finally made it to the mainland. You had to admit as much as you admired your country, this one was nothing like you had ever seen before. There were larger buildings and so many people surrounding the streets. You groaned quietly and sat the book you were reading down in your lap as the carriage bounced roughly once again. “What is it this time dear sister?” your brother asked not looking up from his own book. “If you must know, I am uncomfortable.” You complained. “We have been on the road for hours now, it is hot, and I am sat here in a dress made of the finest blue silks and a corset made of whale bone. The slightest jostle pushes it deeper into my skin. Do you know what happens if it penetrates too far? Humm, do you?” you questioned, voice growing irritated. Your brother let out a small huff, placing his book down on his lap and tilting his head towards you, ‘No dearest sister I do not, but I assume that you will so kindly inform me.” You gave him a tight-lipped sarcastic smile, “It can snap and stab me dearest brother, and you will have no one to deliver to the king. Only my dead body in the finest blue silk covered with my dark warm blood.” Your brother only rolled his eyes at your dramatics and picked up his book again, “You will be fine, you have made it thus far” he said as you began to look out the small carriage window.

After a few more long hours your carriage had finally stopped in front of the main church on the palace lands. Thousands of people had made their way inside as you were being escorted out of your carriage and through the doors to a small drawing room on the top level. Inside stood a beautiful woman, dressed in a fine and pristine cream-colored gown. She handed her tea off to a maid as she stood up from the small couch on which she was sitting upon. Several of her lady’s maids ushered you onto a small platform in the center of the room. “Let me get a good look at her.” The woman declared as the maids all fled to the edges of the room. She circled you as if you were prey, poking and prodding at you.” Now what is this getup you are wearing? It is simply too much!” she exclaimed. You looked down at her, “only the finest silk of what my country has to offer.”  She let out a exasperated hum lifting your arms, “Yes, she will do just fine. She has a nice complexion and hips well suited for childbearing. If only she was in something a little more traditional.” The woman looked to your brother who was standing in the entryway of the room, “Does she know how to read? Does she know how to mind her manners?” Your head snapped over to him, an irritated look growing on your face. Your brother simply smiled, eyes begging for you to calm down. “Of course, my Queen. She is well read, can speak several languages, is proficient at both the piano forte and homemaking skills such as needle point.” The queen nodded along as your brother listed off attributes. “Very well than...” she turned her head towards you, “and what do you have to say?” Casting another look to your brother you gently cleared your throat, “It is such a pleasure to be here today my Queen. Thank you for allowing me this opportunity.” The queen once again simply nodded. “Ah yes humble too.  Get her into a traditional gown and prepare her for the wedding. We mustn’t keep the people waiting.” A series of ‘Yes Ma’ams’ went across the room as the queen left. As the lady’s maids dressed you, you tried to ask them questions about the king. Simple things like who was he really and if he was at all kinds. You got short answers all along the lines of “Well he is the king of course”. Nothing that truly satisfied your inquiries. Before you knew it you were stripped and placed into a boring white and cream ball gown.

Finally getting a break from all the hands on you and people around you, you wandered the halls. Silently you heard footsteps behind you. Turing abruptly, you found a man five paces away. Once again you began to walk, and the man followed. This occurred several times before you stopped and faced the man completely. He bowed to you, staying silent. ‘And whom might you be?” you questioned. He gave you a half-hearted smile and introduced himself as your valet and told you that wherever you went, he would be not but 10 paces behind you. You simply nodded, wanting to get away as soon as possible. Making your way back to the drawing room you looked behind at the man, ‘So you follow me wherever I go?” He simply nods. “Yes, Ma’am”. You purse your lips, “And if I were to need to use the chamber pot?” The man cleared his throated and looked at the lady’s maid that was left, ‘please go fetch one for the future queen”. The maid nodded leaving to go fetch a chamber pot and the man silently walked out of the room and waited. Quietly you tiptoed out of the room, carefully sneaking past your shadow and the lady’s maid that was waiting.

You made your way out of the large church, running into the maze-like garden. Taking several twists and turns you found yourself at a beautiful garden wall made with stone, covered in moss with vines growing up the sides, various breeds of roses covering them. Gripping into the strong vines you found a chip in the wall. Attempting to push yourself up and over it you ground as you failed. After several more attempts you stopped, taking a moment to breathe in deeply. On your next attempt you jumped as you heard a man clear his throat behind you. Fearing that you had been caught by your new footman you turned slowly, wincing as you did. Much to your surprise a young man stood behind you. Dressed impeccably in a white suit with decadent jewels decorating the edges of the jacket. The man was nothing less than breathtakingly gorgeous. His eyes captivated you, beautiful and lively. Like no others you’ve seen before. However, the smile he wore was even more heartwarming. Beautiful and kind. That was the only way you could describe him at that moment. “Might I inquire as to why you are trying to go over that garden wall” the man questioned, light hair that was perfectly styled now flowing gently in the breeze. “If it is any of your business it is because I fear he may be a beast, or perhaps a troll.” You stated looking down at your hands, gently wiping them against each other, “And who might you be referring to my lady?” the man continued. You rolled your eyes letting out anther huff and giving the man a side glance before trailing your eyes back to the garden wall, “As impertinent as that might be I am speaking of the King. No one will speak of him. Everything is so rehearsed no one has anything real to say. So clearly, he must be a beast or a troll.” You brought your hand up to the wall, finding a perfect spot; now if you’ll ever be so kind, I believe that if I grab it here, I might be able to get up. Yes! You can assist me by lifting me up here!” you exclaimed, looking back slightly at the man. The mans smile faded slightly, “So no beast and no trolls, his looks would matter to you?” “Well of course not, his looks don’t matter to me, but his heart does, and I cannot get any answer on that either” you answered curtly before speaking again, “Now come, make haste, grip me here…” you explained gesturing to your corseted waist, “... and just lift me, I believe I can make it over the garden wall.” Still looking up at the wall you don’t notice than man approaching you.

“I must be honest my lady,” you turned to look at him. “I have no intentions on helping you over the garden wall.” His smile came back, teeth white and glistening in the sun. The light of which highlighted his handsome feature. You threw him a questioning glance, “So you refuse to help a lady in distress?” you countered. The man just let out a low chuckle, “Only when said lady in distress is trying to go over a garden wall in order to not marry me.” Your face fell as you felt your heartbeat picking up again. Just like the day you found out you were to be married. You backed away from the man, taking in a couple deep breaths. The man followed, stepping closer to you. Smile reaching his eyes and his nose crinkling slightly, “Hello y/n. I’m Heeseung.” You began to apologize to him, getting ready to curtsy “Your majesty- “, however, he grabbed your arm, hand gently sliding down to hold your hand. “No not your majesty, Heeseung, just Heeseung.” Before you could speak again you heard a pair of footsteps. Your brother came rushing around the corner. “Y/n, where on heavens earth have you been? We have been looking everywhere for you” he hissed before quickly bowing to greet Heeseung. Heeseung gave a polite greeting back, “No need to be worried here, I was just chatting with Y/n. She was deciding whether she wishes to marry me.” Your brother looked between the two of you incredulously, “Well of- of course she wants to marry you” he stuttered. Heeseung simply shook his head, flipping is light hair back, “Is that truly what you wish Y/n?” He hummed at you. “Yes, your majest- “, his eyes flickered over your face making their way to your eyes. “Yes Heeseung, I do wish to marry you,” He nodded, giving you a charming smile, “Vey well then I shall see you in the wedding hall.”

After changing into a wedding dress more becoming of you, you made your way into the wedding hall. Your brother walking you down the long and narrow isle as the orchestra played in the background. Looking towards the end of the isle you saw Heeseung standing. He was in his pristine white suit; his white light hair was pushed back. Not a single strand was out of place, he looked absolutely perfect. Your brother handed you off to Heeseung before going to sit down. Heeseung smiled at you gently as he held your hands in his.

The wedding ceremony was quick. It seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. Before you even knew it you had said your vows of promise and celebrated rightfully with the people in attendance. After the sun had set you and Heeseung began to say goodbye to your guest before being ushered out of the large church and into a carriage. Heeseung held your hand the entire way back to the palace, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “You will absolutely love it, before you came, I had the whole palace of Kew redesigned and made just perfect for you” he chimed. You looked at him quizzingly, “will you not be there as well?” He paused for a moment before ignoring your question. He continued about the newly designed palace. As the palace quickly approached, he finished up his explaining about everything he had done. He exited the carriage first turning around to assist you out, leading you to the doors he escorted you inside before letting you go. “Now that you shall find yourself settled, I shall return to my observatory” he nodded letting go of your hand and briskly walking away from you. You frowned deeply, “Is that how it is to be? You are there and me here alone?” You asked the question. Heeseung looked exasperated, “Yes, it is easier that way.” “For whom?” you questioned back at him “For you or for me?” He looked at you, cheeks reddening and his breaths becoming unsteady, “I will not debate this” he hissed, as you opened your moth to speak, he cut you off, “I have decided, I am your king!” His voice boomed throughout the room. Silently you clenched your teeth, wondering how it all could go wrong in a matter of minutes, “Very well, it was my mistake. I thought you to just be Heeseung. Good night your majesty.” You curtsied before turned, ignoring his small calls to you and making your way deeper into the palace walls.

Days had passed and you were beginning to grow bored in the empty palace. Your footman was of no help as you were not allowed to do anything or be seen in public since it was supposed to be your honeymoon. The longer you were alone the deeper in your thoughts you fell. When you first met Heeseung he was so charming. His award-winning smile swept you off your feet and you were so happy to marry him. The sweet way he helped you and the gentle way he had first spoke to you made your heart throb with hurt of his actions when you first came to the palace. Eventually You had grown tired of being alone, unable to do anything, only being with your footman. One day at dinner as you were struggling to cut up a piece of meat you threw your silverware down on the plate; startling your footman and the servants that were posted around the room, “Joong?” you questioned the footman, “Yes, your majesty?” “Ready the carriage.” You stated as you started smoothing out your dress. “Very well your majesty, might I ask to where we’re going?” You nodded, stepping away from the table as your chair scratched over the floor, “Were going to see my husband.”

The carriage ride was short, however it felt like a lifetime to you. Once you reached the observatory Heeseung’s footman came out. “The king does not wish to see you your majesty.” He stated firmly. You looked at him, eyes narrowing. “And if I WISH to see the king?” you questioned. The footman let out an exasperated sigh, having nothing more to say. You pushed past him and into the doors of the observatory. As you entered you were stunned at the sight of it. There were several dinner plates everywhere; along with stretched out rolls of parchment, all with various sketches of stars and planets on them. In the middle of the observatory sat your husband. His shoulders bare and exposed in the soft moonlight coming from the opening on top of the observatory. His skin glistening and smooth. Before you spoke you took a moment to look at him, wanting to commit his figure to your mind. He was tall and rather lean but at the same time, he was muscular. You had witnessed him do farm chores around the palace grounds but seeing him relaxed and in his own head was something else. Before you had a chance to alert him to your present, his footman busted in. “Your majesty, Queen Y/N has arrived to see you.”

Heeseung turned around and once again you found yourself falling into his gaze. Something was different about his eyes this time. It seemed as if he wasn’t all there. As if he was somehow here on earth in front of you and up somewhere in space. “Ahh my dearest Y/n, why have you come to me today?” he babbled, turning back to his telescope. You scoffed face contorting, “Is this where you have been the entire time?” You snapped. “Sitting in here all alone, while I writher away lonely in Kew?” The king scoffs and spares you but a glance, “Would you rather me be out visiting a whore house?”. You gasped at his harshness, “I would rather you be with someone else than to come second place to some stars.” You murmured, walking around so he could face you. He looked at you, eyes traveling over your form. “Go. I don’t wish to see you; I don’t wish to be near you. Go back to your home.” His voice is eerily quiet and calm. “Why must I go? Why must I have to spend my existence alone and with only Joong and my ladies in waiting to keep me company? Why can I not have time with you?” you questioned trying to get closer to him. He pushed you away gently, “I do not know why it is so hard for you to understand y/n. I do not wish to be near you, I do not wish to see you. I do not wish to speak to you. So go.” He seethed, voice becoming louder after every sentence. With a quiet sniffle you let out a sigh and walked out. Calling out for Joong and making your way back into the carriage.

After you had left Heeseung got up from the floor, cleaning up some of the parchment around the observatory. His footman came towards him and began to help. “Do you think I am wrong for what I am doing?” Heeseung questioned him. His footman cleared his throat, “It is not my place to say, however I do believe you could be kinder to her majesty. From what I hear it has been exceptionally hard on her…” His footman trailed off not wanting to overstep his boundaries. Heeseung sighs, shoulders bending inwards, “I know that, but you of all people know why I am not to become close with her. I could not live with myself if anything were to happen. If I were to lose control. But perhaps I may have been too harsh on her.” Heeseung confessed, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He looked over towards his footman, “Find out what she likes, I wish to get her an extravagant gift” Heeseung’s footman nodded, finishing his task and going to find what was requested of him.

The next day you woke up earlier than usual. Instead of altering your lady’s maid you allowed yourself to lay in bed. After finally deciding to get up and allow yourself to be dressed you made your way down to breakfast. Another day alone, could it possibly get any worse. Shortly after you began eating Heeseung’s footman came into the large dining room carrying a small basket wrapped in red ribbon. “A gift from the king to you, your majesty, he would like to gift you a dog of the finest breed our country can offer.” You look at the footman incredulously as he sets the small basket down and a small dog comes tumbling out. “What is that?” your question. “Well, a dog of course your majesty. “That is nothing more than a deformed bunny. Regardless, as it is from the king I will accept it graciously” You nodded to the footman and signaled for Joong to take the dog. “Clearly it will be my only company in this palace.” Quickly you finished your breakfast before leaving the dining room with Joong and the dog.

After meeting with your ladies in waiting and venting to your newly trusted confidant Jiyun, you had settled down. She explained to you what your present in the palace has done for the people and how it has affected the way others are seen. Confiding in her feeling good, you felt the relief wash over you as you talked to her about everything that had conspired behind the high walls of the palace. In return she told you the rumors circulating about the possibility of an heir and the things your new Mother-in-law had said about you. Things from you being a bad wife and queen to you being un-pure when you arrived on shore. When you shared the truth about your nonexistent escapades with the king she gave you a look of pity, asking you if you had known what was to happen when Heeseung would eventually bed you. You had told her just what your lady’s maid told you, there again the look of pity crossed her face as she got up and got the supplies to inform you what was to happen.

Over the next few weeks Heeseung sent more gifts, including more dogs. You had enough to have each of your ladies in waiting carry one around for you. One day you woke up, going through your morning routine of getting dressed and pampered by the maids and going to breakfast. Much to your surprise Heeseung was there waiting for you. He seemed perfectly chipper as he enjoyed his breakfast. You sat down in front of him, eyes gliding across the room. The servants who usually seemed much more relaxed were now on guard and stiff against the edges of the room. “And what are you doing here?” You asked, easing an eyebrow slightly. He chuckled deeply, putting his for and knife down, “isn’t it obvious, I want to join my wife in our home.” You drew in a quick and deep breath, “Our home? No this is my home. A home you left me too alone.” He’s eyes soften looking at you, “I apologize for how I have been acting, but please give me a chance.” Without a second glance you got up, telling Joong that you would that your breakfast in the drawing room before walking out of the dining room. How could he think after weeks of ignoring you for the stars and sending you useless gifts you have no need for, he could come back and pretend as if everything was fine.

Over the following weeks you and Heeseung fell into a routine. Eventually you agreed to at least share one meal together and converse a little. At dinner Heeseung says across from you, eyes following you closely. “I would like to show you my observatory...” he spoke softly. Your head snapped up to him, eyes widening slightly, “Really?” He nodded, “yes I feel it’s only right that I show you what has kept me away from you for so long.” You smiled at his stately finally feeling like you were getting somewhere with the distant king. When nightfall came the next night Heeseung, and his footman came to get you from your room. You smiled softly as Heeseung gently took your hand, placing a small kiss on the back of it. As he led you out of the palace you had begun to feel nervous. What was so important about this observatory that it kept him away from you. The road to the carriage had felt like it took years. Stepping out carefully with the help of Heeseung you both made your way up the wide cobblestone steps. Entering the observatory, he opened the top to the telescope, guiding you to look inside.

“I’ve always found the planets interesting. I think it’s amazing how we can be so small and insignificant compared to the world. I have never been one to want to look at the darker side of things. Though ever since my father died at war it has been hard for me. Taking over my father’s place was the only thing I was created for. It was my only life’s purpose. I am to bear the burden of every mother, father, and child in this country.” He glances down, “Life is never easy, and I would not have expected it to be. But this crown is pressure on my head, a constant weight and reminder that I am not allowed to crack, that I am not allowed to be anyone other than who the people need me to be. I cannot just be your husband; I cannot just be my mother’s son.” His jaw clenches, eyes still cast upon the floor. You look at him, sorrow and pity finding the way to your eyes, as he continues “No matter how much I want to be, I must always be king. A king first, a king of the people, one who must take into consideration everyone. I wish to just be your Heeseung. I wish to just love you every day, to just stand by your side every day, to just be with you every day for the rest of my life… “You approach him, hands finding their way to his arms, gently tracing down them, “but you don’t have to do it alone, I’m right here, I too simply wish to be with you. In every way, with joy and with sorrow. I just want to be with you.” He looks at you, eyes soft and a charming smile making his way to his face. Gently he takes your face in his hands, leaning down and brushing your lips together ever so slightly.

Your heart jumps into your throat, another nervous feeling washing over you. This time it makes you feel giddy and excited rather than anxious. Slowly you lean into the kiss. Finally pressing your lips together. His hands find his way from your face softly sliding down before settling on your waist, pulling you closer into him. The world itself seemed to pause as the kiss went on. Lips against lips, and breaths interchanging with each kiss. As you leaned into his embrace, he pulled back resting his forehead against your hands still gripping at your waist. “Let’s go home.” The simple statement from him made you flustered, you could feel your cheeks warming up. Nevertheless, you nodded, and he once again led you out and to the carriage, holding onto you the entire way back to the palace.       

Once you go to the palace Heeseung once again helps you out of the carriage, holding on to you ever so gently. Making your way inside through the large palace doors you both stop in the foyer, your maids coming up to assist you in getting ready for bed as it had become quite late. You look around, eyes finding Heeseung, he gives you a smile and allows them to take you away, “Go and get comfortable, I’ll find you later” he smiles at you once again giving you a small kiss. Simply nodding you allow yourself to be taken up the grand staircase and ushered into a bathroom, the ruby and gold encrusted tub sat in the middle with heaps of steam rolling off the top of the water inside. “We took the liberty of drawing you a bath Ma’am” your maid said, you nodded at her in thank you allowing her to undress you from your corset and large gown before getting in the bath. After being thoroughly scrubbed down by your maid you had finally gotten out of the bath. Your maid dressed you in a white button-down night dress. Making your way back to your room you let out a sigh, rolling your shoulders as the maids opened the door for you.

You stopped in your tracks as you walked into the large opulent room. Sitting on the large bed in the middle of your room was Heeseung. Leaning back on his hands, clad in just a pair of night pants and an unbuttoned night shirt showing off his chest. He glanced over at you as you entered the room, pushing himself up and walking towards you. He takes you hands in his, binging them up to his mouth and kissing them softly, “You look simply mesmerizing, y/n”, your cheeks heated up once again at his complement, looking down at your intertwined hands you smiled. “Thank you…” You unlaced your fingers bringing your hand up to cup his face, bringing your faces closer together. You leaned in close to him, softly pressing your lips together. Before you could go any further, he stopped you, “Are you sure this is something you truly want?” His question caught you off guard and you thought back to what you were told by one of your ladies in waiting. “Of course I want this, I want to be with you” you whispered to him. He smiled, kissing you gently, “Do you know what is to happen?” you nodded silently, “I have been told… however I did not enjoy the part where my head is to hit the wall repeatedly” he let out a low laugh and caressed the back of your head, “That okay my love, we can stop that.” You took note of how his eyes crinkled at the side as he leaned down and kissed you.

You pulled away, reaching to start to unbutton your night dress, “I fear I may have made a wrong choice of wardrobe” you said as you struggled with the various buttons. He shook his head, “no do not worry about it, I’m very good with buttons.” His hands followed yours as he pulled you closer to him, lips pressing against the sides of your neck. With little effort he popped the buttons down your night dress. A small moan escaped from your throat as Heeseung continued to trail kisses down your neck, biting and sucking gently. Slipping the dress off your shoulders and allowing it to fall on the floor leaving you completely exposed. He leaned back, admiring you, “you are beautiful, you are everything I imagined you to be and more…” your ears began to ring, and you felt the heat crawl up your neck. You thanked him with a kiss, running your hands up his sides sliding them under the top of his unbuttoned shirt, slipping it off his shoulders. “As are you” he shook his head, turning and softly pushing you down onto the plush bed, “I can simply never match your beauty, you are ethereal.” His statement made your heart race. Your breath quickened as Heeseung once again began kissing down your neck, hands gripping harshly at your sides, “you are ever so perfect my love.”

You let out a whiny moan hands coming up and gripping his hair as you reflexively arched into his touch. His lips found their way to your chest. Another soft moan escaped your lips as his hot mouth wrapped around your pert nipple, his other hand coming up and gingerly tweaking the other one. It was a new sensation to you, one that sent shockwaves of heat throughout your body. You bit your lip letting out small puffs of air but concealing your moans. Heeseung’s eyes trailed up to meet your as he switched from one nipple to the other, “Do not hide your beautiful sounds from me I wish to hear them. To know that I am making you feel the upmost pleasure.” You nodded silently a gasp leaving your mouth as you felt his hand train from your breast and down to your thighs. Heeseung had stopped his assault on your chest and nipples; allowing himself to slide further down into the bed. You felt the same surge of heat flood through you. Both of his hands fell onto your thighs, gently pushing them apart and exposing you to him. You shivered as his fingers gently spread your folds. Without holding back, he licked up from your entrance mouth circling around your clit and sucking on it harshly. Your hips jolted, hot pleasure brining through you at the new sensation. A whine left your throat as your hands ran through his hair pulling on it. Heeseung moaned against you, dipping his tongue into you and savoring your taste on his tongue.

Slowly he begins to trail his hands up and down the inside of your thighs before slipping two fingers inside of you focusing his efforts back on your clit. The stretch of his fingers is a bit uncomfortable but still pleasurable. He waits to let you adjust to the feeling before slowly starting to thrust them. A gasp leaves you at the feeling.  Clenching down on his fingers you start to follow his movements, pleasure seeping into every limb as you pull at his hair. With a breathy moan you cum, legs trying to close at the newfound feeling. Heeseung’s hand grips your thigh, forcing your legs to stay open as he licks up what he can of your arousal.

Heeseung moves back up in the bed, pulling his fingers from you and sticking them in his mouth. Your face burns at the sight, Slowly Heeseung pulls of his pants, your eyes trail downwards to his exposed cock. It was long and hard, leaking precum and red, slowly Heeseung starts grinding gently against you, “Are you doing okay my love?” he asked, his voice gentle and caring. You let out a nod slightly spent from the previous orgasm, Heeseung shook his head, “No, I need words dear.” Breathing heavily, you once again nodded, “Yes, yes, I am doing so good please continue.” Heeseung nodded, bending over to give you a deep kiss. Slowly he lined himself up, rubbing his tip against your clit before he pushed into you, although he had thoroughly stretched you out there was still a slight burn. Your hands moved up to grip his shoulders, nails digging into them as he stopped moving, allowing you time to adjust. After a brief pause, he looked down at you, waiting for you to allow him to continue, you pulled him down, giving him another kiss, “I think I am okay now...” you mumbled against his lips. He nodded, gripping your thigh and pulling your leg up onto his waist pulling out slightly before thrusting in again. After a few experimental thrusts he started to speed up. With a loud moan you through your head back, mouth open and hands gripping tightly at him. “You look so beautiful, so perfect for me” he huffed continuing to bury himself deep inside you. You whine, eyes clenched shut in pleasure. “You feel so good wrapped around me” he groaned, thrusting relentlessly into your velvety walls. You moaned loudly, small pleads of pleasure leaving your lips. “You’re going to look so good with my seed dripping out of you, humm would you like that my queen?”

His filthy words draw you closer to your impending orgasm. You nod, your brain fuzzy, the only thing on your mind was the way his thick cock dragged against your walls. A loud moan rips from your throat as you clench around him again, “That’s it my love, cum, cum for me beautiful” Heeseung whispers, moaning lowly. You orgasm rushes over you, and with one last thrust from Heeseung he comes as well, painting your walls white with his seed, dripping and causing a mess.  You trembled coming down from your high, cringing at the feeling of sweat and hair sticking to your body but stayed beneath Heeseung anyway. He gave you a final gentle kiss before pulling out and lying next to you, arms wrapping around you and pulling you tightly into his chest allowing you to lay your head down on his chest. “You were absolutely perfect y/n.” You smiled stretching your neck and giving him a short but sweet kiss as a thank you before you finally relaxed in his arms, the both of you falling asleep in a pile of intertwined limbs.

The next morning you woke up alone. You got up from bed feeling slight discomfort as your lady’s maid came in to help you bathe once again and get dressed for the day. As your maid scrubbed you down in the tub, she looked at you with a pained smile. “I was informed to let your majesty know that the Kings mother has arrived and will be staying for the day.” You clinched your teeth together simply nodding and allowing her to finish washing you off. As your maid tightened the corset and placed you in the large, elegant dress you couldn’t help but space out. You wondered by you mother-in-law would choose now of all days to visit you. It was no secret, the things she said of you, but even so you did not imagine that she would go as far as to hound you in your own home. Walking down the large hall you had a wide smile on your face. Looking in each room for your husband your footsteps softened as you heard his booming voice, followed by the screech of his mother.

You were brought back to the day you found out you were to be married, sneaking around and peaking from the corner of the doorframe you listened to them intently. “I have done everything you asked. You asked me to get married. I let you choose, and I got married. You asked me to stay away from her and keep hidden for as long as I could, and so I did. You asked that I bed her and try for an heir and so I did. What more could you want from me?” He yelled sharply, clearly trying to maintain his composure. “I want results, I want the next heir and I want news of her falling pregnant soon. You are to remain here and continue to try until we get the next king to this country.” You could hardly hear her reply as your heartbeat thumped in your ears. Utterly heartbroken and angry you stepped into the door frame, pushing it open wider. Heeseung looked at you, his face falling as he realized you had been standing there for far too long; hearing all the things he had to say about you and his thoughts on your relationship. “Y/n- “Before he continued you cut him off; breathing in deeply, you started to speak, turning towards him and bowing down, “I apologize your majesty, As I must have misunderstood our situation and the way you truly felt about me. Now that I know I will refrain from seeking companionship with you.” Yu looked towards your mother-in-law and bowed again, “I will of course continue to try for an heir, I will not fail. I will perform my duty as it has been laid out for me.” His mother looked satisfied with your answer, nodding her head and looking between the two of the, “Well at least she is not completely useless or incompetent.” Hearing the spiteful comment from your mother-in-law, you turned on your heel and walked out of the room.

By nightfall his mother had left, and you and Heeseung were alone. He had tried to talk to you several times throughout the day, but you had simply ignored him stating that you would see him the next time you were to try for an heir. As the weeks dragged on you had been trying. Eventually the day after next it was time for you to once again try for a heir. You found yourself walking into the bathroom as Heeseung was taking a bath. Stripping yourself of your bed coat you stood in front of him. Quickly he told his footman to get out. “Just get in…” he demanded, and you followed. Dropping down on top of him in the tub you pulled his face to yours, connecting your lips in a hot kiss. His hands found their way to your thighs rubbing up them and lifting your now soaking dress. You felt him harden as you ran your lips down his neck grinding down gently. Heeseung sucked in a breath allowing his head to fall back and for you to continue your ministrations. You had never been this confident before, Heeseung just had to wonder where it came from.  Before long he found himself wanting even more of you. Stopping you from going further down his chest he gripped your chin, bringing your lips back up to meet his as he untired your bed coat. His fingers went back to your thighs, ghosting across them and then into your dress, pulling it over your head and throwing it to the floor. Grabbing at his hard cock in the water you line him up to your entrance, sinking down onto him with a brief pause.

No matter how many times you have done this the slight stretch is always there. A moan rips from Heeseung’s throat as you begin to ride him, bouncing up and down quickly. Your own moans were just as loud, acting as music to Heeseung’s ears. His fingers dig into your hips allowing him to set the pace.  Your thighs started to burn as Heeseung slowed down your bouncing, kissing you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth, “You’re so perfect for me,” he praised moving one hand down in between your legs, fingers pressing harshly against your sensitive clit, rubbing it in small circled. A high-pitched moan left your lips, as your hips jolted slightly from the pleasurable friction, “Heeseung please” you begged quietly already feeling your orgasm impending as your legs had begun to shake. Heeseung didn’t stop, “You do not have to ask my dear go ahead, come for me” he moaned out into your ear, starting to thrust up into you faster. You whined, clenching tightly around him, as you came his fingers still rubbing on your clit. Heeseung followed shortly after you, his warm cum filling you up and leaking down his cock.

Panting heavily, you collapsed on top of him, sighing at the relief of your burning thighs, allowing yourself to relax into the now cold bath. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head, “I’ve missed this you know; I’ve missed the intimacy between the two of us…” he mumbled. You nodded your head, “As have I but it is not my fault that it had disappeared” Heeseung let out a sigh nodding his head as he place it on top of yours, “I am aware and for that I am sorry. I am always so caught up in who I must be as a king I forget that somedays I can just be Heeseung and no one else.” You gave his neck a gentle kiss, “It is okay, let us just move on, what has happened has happened and there is nothing we can do about that. It is what happens from here that matters now.” You spoke softly into his neck. “Oh, how wise you are my dear queen.” He praised you as he pulled away to get out of the tub. ‘As much as I love laying here with you, we must get out, it is rather late, and I fear I do not like the feeling on my fingers and toes wrinkling.” You agreed with his statement allowing him to get out of the tub and dry off, dressing himself in clothes that were already laid out, before he came back to help you. Ever so gently he pulled you out of the tub, wrapping you in a bath towel and drying you off gently. His eyes fell to your soaking dress on the floor, “I fear that you may not be able to wear that one again tonight my queen.” You giggled at his response. “And who shall be at fault if not you my king,” he smiled widely at you, “Nevertheless I do agree, I shall call for a new one.” After a short wait a maid brought you a new dress, helping you change. Heeseung took you into his arms, walking you to his room and laying you down on the bed, joining you shortly after. “Stay with me tonight please?” He asked. You simply nodded, allowing yourself to lay in his arms as you finally dozed off.  

You were awoken by the sound of a crash coming from outside the palace, in the garden. You looked around the room noticing Heeseung was nowhere to be found. Hastily you jumped out of bed, putting on your bed coat and walking out to the palace garden. There you found Heeseung stripped naked in the rose garden, rocking back and forth quietly singing about the planets to himself, hands out in front of him as if playing an imaginary piano. You knew he had been going through something over the past few weeks, but you could have never imagined it to end with him like this. His footman was standing in front of him, trying to get ahold of his attention. As you approached them his footman turned to you, “You should be inside your majesty the king would not like you to see him like this.” You shook your head at him, “Absolutely not. I will not abandon my husband in his time of need.” You made your way closer, pushing the footman out of the way and crouching down in front of Heeseung grabbing his hands. “Venus has gone away, will she come out to play?” You heard his quiet singing. “Heeseung, Heeseung my love, are you okay?” His eyes finally found their way towards you. You smiled at him, moving a hand to caress his face.  He shakes your hand away from his, grabbing your face, “Venus you are not in the sky, have you come to play with me?” You bit your lip at his question shaking your head. “It’s me Heeseung. It’s Y/n. I’m your wife.” He smiles widely, laughing loudly, “Yes of course you’re my y/n. You are way too beautiful to just be Venus. She could never hold a candlelight to you, my dearest.” His ramblings brought you worry but you kept calm for his sake. “Of course, and you are my dear husband, Venus has gone away, so we must go inside now.” Heeseung nodded in agreement. You pulled him up and took off your bed coat, wrapping it around him and leading him to the bathroom. You instructed his footman to bring you water and a cloth. When his footman came back with the warm bucket of water you gently scrubbed the dirt off Heeseung, assisting in getting him dressed and back in bed. You turned to look at Heeseung’s footman once you got him settled, “You must make sure that none of this leaves the palace grounds. Make up what excuse you have too but no one must know.” His footman nodded bowing to you with a quick, “Yes Ma’am.” before he left. Laying down next to Heeseung you gently stroked his hair back, kissing the top of his head, begging whatever deity would listen that he would be okay in the morning.

When morning finally came you once again woke up alone. You got a dreadful feeling as you got flashbacks to the last time you had woken up alone after sleeping with Heeseung. You had hoped that today would be better for the both of you. You also had hoped that Heeseung might finally be open about what he was going through. Making your way to the dining room a shy smile came over your face as you noticed he was sitting down at the table. You sat down as you were served your breakfast. “Are you doing well this morning?” you asked him quietly. His head snapped up from looking down at his tea, “You must already know the answer to that.” He stated. You nodded your head, “I do but it never hurts to ask, you gave me quite a fright last night. I was worried about you.” He looked you up and down, trying to find any sign that you were lying and stayed silent. Finishing up your breakfast you gave him a nod, deciding not to say anything else and allow him to sit in silence. Before getting up to leave you cleared your throat, “I have an appointment with the doctor today, so we shall see if anything comes of it.” Heeseung remained silent as you left. In that moment he knew that if you were to have finally fallen pregnant, he would have to make himself start to visit his doctor again. He would have to get himself under control, no more episodes and no more mod swings. Shortly after your doctor’s appointment word reached Heeseung that you were indeed pregnant. When he read the letter, he felt his heart stop. His heart hurt for you and for your future child. However, it also swelled with joy, as hard as adapting to this marriage has been he was so proud to finally have something to share with just you. As for you, you were elated with the news. You had finally achieved what was thought to be your only role in life and you could not wait for your baby to come.

It has been several weeks since you got news back from the doctor regarding your pregnancy. You knew he hadn’t been back to his observatory, but he had seldom been seen in the halls of the palace. Now several months pregnant you couldn’t stand not knowing where he was. You had tried sending him letters and even getting Joong to harass Heeseung’s footman to try and find out where he could be hiding. Even through all of that you still had no idea. Though as time went on and a few months passed you began to grow suspicion about the chatter from the servants. You had heard some of them talking about hearing screams being concealed deeply in the underground chambers beneath the main palace for several days and nights. Others talked about how it must have been someone who betrayed the crown, and though you wouldn’t have doubted it, with your husband missing you just had to think otherwise. The rumor mill led you to none other than your mother-in-law. Walking into her large drawing room you ignored the woman that was sitting with her. “Where is he?” you demanded, slapping a hand down on the gold marble table. Your mother-in-law jumped as the sound, giving you a glare before turning to look at the woman sitting with her, “I suppose we will have to catch up some other time, I fear the queen’s pregnancy has gotten to her.” The other woman let out a giggle, muttering something about having been there before as she curtsied and walked out of the room, allowing the servants to close the heavy wooden door behind her. “You must’ve lost your manners, girl” she hissed at you, “You have no right to demand to see the king, let alone know where he is. It is none of your concern.” You clenched your jaw, teeth grinding down against each other as you huffed out, “No right? No right, you say. I have every right, even more so than you. I have every right to demand to know where my husband is and what he is doing. I have every right to see him!” Your mother-in-law simply shook her head, “He would not want you to know where he is.” She sucked in another breath but before she could begin to talk again you cut her off. “I know. I know that the king is mad, I know that he is sick.” Anger flared in your mothers-in-law eyes as he looked at you, “The king is not, and I repeat, is not mad. He is simply burdened.” You shook your head. Voice breaking as you spoke, “You do not understand, I know that he is, I have seen it firsthand. Yet I choose to love him anyway, I choose to stay by his side.” As much as this woman had hurt you, made you feel inferior and alone you couldn’t bear to see her do the same to your husband, her own son. “So please, I will do what I must but please let me see him.” However, it seemed as though your pleads had fallen on deaf ears as your mother-in-law walked away. You only had one other option, to go to Heeseung’s footman and convince him yourself.

Following a short ride to the main palace you met Heeseung’s footman. You glared at him as Joong helped you out of the carriage you had arrived in, being extra careful of your pregnant belly. “I am demanding to see the king.” You spoke out calmly. Heeseung’s foot man looked at you. Before he could begin speaking back you shook your head, “I am demanding to see the king. As your queen you are required to allow me to see him. As his right hand and aide, you are sworn to protect him. With that being said, you must take me to the king.” Heeseung’s footman sighed, not saying a word but casting a long glance to a lone cellar door on the side of the building. Without saying another word, you took off, Heeseung’s footman and Joong following closely behind you. “Your majesty you mustn’t enter there, he does not wish for you to see him in this state.” The footman pleaded with you. “He is my husband; I shall see him in whatever state I wish.” You responded as you threw open the cellar door. Immediately after its opening you heard terrifying screams, one that could only be riveled by women in labor. Quickly making your way down the three small steps and into the leaky dark cellar you followed the sounds of the screams. They become louder and more deafening as you near a door at the end of the long tunnel, light being cast through the cracks. The guards outside of the door moved to stop you, nearly grabbing you up before Joong or Heeseung’s footman came to stop them. Silently the guards turned to Heeseung’s footman with questioning glances. The footman sighed, “Let the queen in, she wishes to speak with the king.”  Without any further instructions the doors were pushed open by the two guards. The sight of the room made you sick. It was dirty and there were rats and roaches everywhere. Just barely standing in front of a throne-like chair in the middle was Heeseung, head down and nodding out. His feet were plunged into a vat of steaming water. He was clothed in simple white sleeping bottoms, a thick sheen of sweat covering him as his hair stuck down to his forehead. The palace doctor stood over him, two electrodes in hand and a sick smirk on his face, while two more guards held him up by his arms. The doctor pushed the electrodes into Heeseung’s skin, causing him to scream out in agony. You let out a curdled scream, causing all the men, apart from Heeseung to look over at you. “Release the king this instant!” You demanded, edging closer to the men. The doctor let out a hiss, demanding you to be removed. “No, I demand that you release the king. I am your Queen, and as such you will do as I say or face the consequences.” The guards holding Heeseung up let him go, allowing him to stumble out of the vat of water. You moved quickly, allowing him to fall into you. He looked up, eyes hazy, “y/n my love is that you” His voice was hours no doubt due to the torture he had endured. You nodded, whispering out a small yes as you stroked his head, “Just rest, it’s okay, you’re okay now” You spoke softly to him. Heeseung’s eyes closed as he finally allowed himself to completely nod out. You looked towards Joong and Heeseung’s footman signaling for them to take him. They did so quickly, carrying him out to the carriage with you not far behind. The doctor ran out following behind you, “Your majesty you must understand. All I was doing was trying to cure him.” You whipped around at the careless doctor’s comment, “Cure him? What exactly were you trying to cure? He is just fine as he is. He is a great king and husband. You should be lucky if you are allowed to practice medicine in this country ever again. I’ll have you tried for your crimes against the crown, and it will only be by the king’s hand whether you make it out alive. So, whatever it is you supposably tried to cure him of you best hope he is grateful for it.” You threatened him, before returning to the carriage and being taken home with Heeseung at your side.

 It had been several days since you had dragged Heeseung out of the dungeon that the deranged doctor kept him locked in. Your due date was coming up soon and you were stressed and worried about him. You knew that he blamed himself for the way you found him, no doubt from the manipulation of the doctor. Your mother-in-law had continued to tell you to leave him be and allow  him to stay by himself, but you simply could not bear the thought that he was alone and hurting. So, when night fell, and your mother-in-law retired for bed you and Joong set out for the observatory. The giant doors scratched the marble floor as they opened. Walking in you spotted Heeseung, much like he was the first time you found him here, shirtless with things scattered all around him, newly minted scars forming on his upper body. “Is there a reason you have yet to return home?” you questioned hands coming up around your obviously showing bump. Heeseung looked at you, eyes wide. He stayed silent for a moment and shook his head, “Nothing that is a concern of yours. You need to leave Y/n” he spoke coldly. You mimicked him shaking your head “No. Not until you tell me you do not love me” Heeseung opened his mouth, ‘What does that have to do with anything?” You stared at him incredulously, “It has everything to do with it. I have heard you say that you wish for me to go, that you wish for me to leave, even going as far to say that you wish we had never married. But you have never said that you do not love me. If you truly do not, then tell me. Because if you do love me then I will continue to come here, every day to bring you home.” Heeseung’s face fell, frown becoming deeper. Instead of letting him speak you continued, “Well what do you have to say? Tell me? Tell me you do not love me, and I will go. I will never return; I will have our baby on my own and only come around when my position calls for another one. We can spend the rest of our lives apart.” Heeseung’s eyes clouded, and he stood from his position, drawing closer to you. “My heart is only for you; it calls your name day and night. It yearns for you whenever you are away. I cannot breathe without you here. I have loved you, desperately, so from the moment I first seen you in the garden. You are the only one for me, but you don’t need my broken parts. You don’t need the me that cannot give you a perfect man to love.”  Your head snapped up as you responded “And do you believe that mine does not? Do you truly believe that I would not love every single part of you? Do you think so lowly of me?” Heeseung cuts you off, “Of course I do not think lowly of you, you are the most magnificent person I have ever had the pleasure to known. But- “you shook your head, grabbing him and pulling him to you, being careful of you protruding belly, “Then that is all we need to know, I love you and you love me.” Kissing him deeply you speak again, “I will forever be by your side, I will love you through your good days; and I will love you through your bad ones too. I will spend the rest of my life proving to you that I love you, all of you, if you let me.” Tears cloud your eyes as you stare up at him, blinking them away they trail down your face. Heeseung looks at you, face fallen and eyes sad. He snakes his hands up to your face, wiping your tears away, “Only if you let me do the same.” With a nod you kiss him deeply again, hugging him tightly to you as his arms wrap around you. Finally, you feel at ease with being in his arms.

The day had finally came. Sharp pains shot through you as you laid down in bed, your lady’s maid beside you gripping onto your hand tightly. Another lady’s maid sat at the end of the bed, instructing you to keep your legs up and opened as she carefully checked on the baby. You heard your husband screaming at someone for a doctor, telling them that is what you needed. With each second the searing pain became worse, crying, you called out to your husband. In a matter of seconds, he came barreling through the door a doctor in tow. The doctor took over for the lady’s maid down at the foot of your bed, proving his own check and giving your husband a nod. Heeseung kneeled at your side, allowing you to grip his hand as hard as you needed. Effectively taking place of the First Ladies maid. “You are doing splendid my darling, there is no need to be panicked. Just relax my dear girl, relax.” Heeseung hummed into your sweat drenched hairline, placing a gentle kiss when he finished, “Just give it time, our child will soon see the world all thanks to you.” You gave him a halfhearted smile before another scream of pain left you. The doctor took a deep breath, “your majesties, it is time. You need to start pushing. The baby is ready.” With a nod you started, the pain becoming worse than before. Heeseung sat by you the entire time and made sure you were taken care of after the birth. When you were finally done the doctors and ladies maids took the baby and cleaned him up. Several minutes later you were met with your newborn being laid out in your chest. You smiled at Heeseung, looking over and seeing his eyes filled with so much love and joy. It was at that moment you knew that you would do anything for the two of them. And you wouldn’t change a thing.

Only seven months after your first baby had you gotten pregnant with another one. You and Heeseung were very excited. You were happy to say the least that your little family kept growing with nothing but love and support. One day you were in the garden, watching as Heeseung threw around weeds and dead flowers, helping with the landscaping. Your now five children had sat below you at your feet begging for a story. You giggled and picked up your oldest, nuzzling into him causing him to giggle back. “Now have I ever told you about the princess and the king?” You asked knowing what the several children’s answers would be. Little hands raised up as they all nodded, “yes yes but we want to hear it again!” Their little voices boomed across the garden. Heeseung head peaks up, nodding to you as he came and took a seat down next you. “Well, you see there was this beautiful princess who was set to get married. She was deathly afraid that her new husband was going to be a troll or a beast,” you started, sniffing your laughter. Heeseung rolled his eyes gently before continuing with your story, “but before she could escape, the king had found her trying to go over the garden wall.” “Of course, the princess didn’t know it was him at first and even tried to get him to help her escape” you interrupted him.  The children nodded along with the story, their smiles becoming wider as they watched you and Heeseung stare at each other. Heeseung took ahold of your hand as he continued the story, “but it was too late, as it was from that moment that the king knew she would be very special to him and he to her. He knew that she would be the one thing to save him from all else” Heeseung eyes glanced around the children taking in their wide and beautiful smile as he kissed the back of your hand.

Sure, your story was not perfect. It was filled with ups and downs, tragedy and pain. But over everything else it was true and the love you held for one another would never die. It was an eternal flame flickering even in the strongest of winds. It was the light that peaked out of the door at the end of a dark and damp corridor. It was hiding together and living together. It was understanding and compassionate. But most importantly it was yours and that’s all that truly mattered.

♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹ ♡ ₊˚⊹

❀❀❀ taglist (for enha as a bridgerton story) - @lol6sposts @signed-manny @peonywon @rayofsunshineeee @renchai @lwavander @jaeyunzlovr @eneiyri @moonchild-moonfairy @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @strxwbloody @yeonjinnie @firstclassjaylee @laurradoesloveu @smouches @baekxo07 @channiesdarling @microwavedstrawberr1es @jjaeyuns @penny44224 @sseishiross @heesitation @jakedoxxenvasion @jaklvbub @sunus-sun @sunwoniie @hybeboyenthusisast @dollschan @randomanothercreature @nctislifue @nanaheex @addictedtohobi @wolfhardbby @papichulomacy @monstaxdirtywonk @koizekomi @august25 @yaksokhaley @sofesyoongi @pinkkami @peytonthedino @onlyseungkwans @hotchwheels @icedtealeaf (i think i got everyone lmk if i missed you!!)

‼️‼️ ©️ @candysunoo 2024 DO NOT copy, repost or translate without permission ‼️‼️

[finelinefae]

match one [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n's struggling with harry's coaching before the first tournament and harry's feelings control him more than he controls them

word count: 10.2k

contains: enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals, strict parents, fluff, harry being a boy and not being able control himself around y/n

this is part 2 of the game, read part 1 here

. . .

“Again,” 

Y/N gritted her teeth and bounced the tennis ball on the ground before throwing it into the air with a straight arm and hitting it with the racket, watching as it pierced through the air to the opposite end of the court. 

She heard a sigh come from the bench on the side of the court, “Again,” 

She inhaled sharply through her nose to try and contain her temper as she repeated the same serve. 

“Again,”

Y/N spun around on the heel of her New Balance trainers, her pleated, white skort twirling as she did. She crossed her arms and glared at the boy lying on his back in his school uniform which was now crinkled and unkempt after the school day. “You’re not even watching,” She replied for the first time after having done the same serve more than ten times already. 

“I don’t need to, I know you’re not doing it correctly,” He replied, monotonously. 

She clenched her jaw, “Well as my coach, aren’t you supposed to show me how I’m meant to do it correctly?”

“I can show you but it won’t change anything,” He said. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighs and sits up, “You already know how to do a flat serve, I’ve seen you do it. You’re just not hitting it hard enough. I can hear it in the way the ball lands on the other end of the court.” 

“You could have just told me to hit it harder,” She retorts. 

“Am I meant to play the game for you as well?” He quips which makes her blood boil. 

This was their third training session, and Y/N had reached her limit. With her first proper tournament just three weeks away, she had hoped that seeking help from the best tennis player at Crestwood would elevate her gameplay. 

However, Y/N was getting frustrated with each session being a monotonous repetition of drills she had already learnt herself. It grated on her nerves and she felt as though she was back to square one. 

She was beginning to regret having enlisted Harry for his mentoring in the first place. Whenever they’d try to talk mutually to each other, it would just end up in an argument of some kind where they’d end up needing ten minutes to cool off.

Y/N had already qualified for the Academy Slam before she even asked Harry to coach her. There had originally been sixteen academies from the surrounding counties competing in the games and now there were only half and Y/N was one of them. She’d passed the qualifiers all by herself and maybe she could pass the games that way too.

“Again,” He said that one word Y/N was beginning to hate. 

Who knew what she was capable of if she had to hear that word one more time. 

Feeling a surge of anger, Y/N tossed the ball into the air and hit it with all the strength she could possibly summon. She watched as the ball made a fast and straight trajectory towards her target area which just so happened to be right beside Harry’s place on the bench. 

He jumped up, a look of surprise on his face. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed, eyes following the ball as it hit the fence.

Y/N's smirk wavered as he approached her, her surprise matching his when he spoke again. "Let's move on, shall we?"

By the end of the session, every inch of Y/N's body throbbed with exhaustion. She drained an entire water bottle in one go, her fitted polo shirt clinging to her damp skin. She had thought she'd engaged every muscle in her body, but the way her calves screamed at her with every step told a different story.

“Same time tomorrow?” Harry asked, standing above her and blocking the sunlight. 

“I want to start training properly,” Y/N stated.

“We are training properly,” He argued. 

“You realize you haven’t shown me a single tactic since you started coaching me right?”

“And?” 

“How am I meant to win the first tournament if all I know how to do is basic drills?” 

“Do you know how many times my coach made me practice flat serves before we could move on?” He asks but she doesn’t answer, “A month. I went home with blisters on my hands because I was doing them non-stop six hours a day.”

Y/N’s eyebrows raise, “You think tennis is just about being tactical then you’re not playing it properly. The only way you’ll ever be a good tennis player is if you master the techniques.” He explains, “I’ve seen you play Y/N. For someone who has never had professional coaching, you are one of the best players I’ve seen but you lack confidence in your technique. That flat serve you just aimed at me? One of the best flat serves I’ve seen in a while. If you can do that in every game, you’ll have no problem winning but if you want tactics? I can draw you a diagram and it’ll save two hours of my day no problem.” 

Y/N tries not to show her surprise at his words. Instead, she takes them all in, “Shouldn’t we at least be analysing my opponent?”

She was playing against Vanya Maddison in her next game. She was tall which was a major advantage in the game but her spatial awareness wasn’t exactly on par. 

“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.

“My speed?” Y/N frowned. 

“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.” 

Y/N had no idea whether to take it as a compliment or not. She’d never heard Harry say anything good about her so was taken off guard by his words. “So are we still on for tomorrow because I have to meet Mitch in thirty minutes and if the answer is no at least I can actually plan on getting wasted tonight.” 

Y/N took a moment to think. She had never expected him to say something positive about her, especially about her anger. It was a side of herself she often struggled to control, but hearing Harry acknowledge it as a strength left her feeling conflicted.

As much as she considered training on her own which would give her some peace and quiet, she wanted to see where her training with Harry would go. If he was right, maybe she’d actually have more of a chance of winning than she did on her own. 

She stood up and put her gym bag over her shoulder, “See you tomorrow,” She walked past him, wanting to avoid the satisfied grin on his face. 

“Y/N!” Harry called, she could hear him jogging towards her before she stepped out of the courts, “I wanted to give this to you.”

He placed in her hands a cassette tape with white masking tape on it with the words ‘Y/N’s theme songs’ scribbled onto it in black ink. “What is this?” She asked, looking up at him.

“When I was in Australia, I used music to help me get in the zone before a match. My coach told me to use a cassette tape because phones were too distracting,” He explained. 

“You made this for me?” She frowned.

“What? You’ve never been given a gift before?” He chuckles. 

Y/N looks down at the plastic in her hands. It’s not that she’d never been given a gift by anyone before- she and Sarah always exchanged gifts over Christmas and for each other’s birthdays- but it was rare for her to ever receive anything from anyone else. Her parents would often give her practical things at Christmas or transfer money into her bank account on birthdays. 

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed at her lack of reply but she cleared her throat, “I don’t have a cassette player,” She said but Harry quickly removed his backpack and pulled out a walkman. 

“You can borrow mine,” He handed it over to her, “I won’t be needing it anytime soon since I’m not playing,” She noticed the downcast look in his eyes as he mentioned the fact he wasn’t currently able to play with his injury. 

“Um, t-thanks?” She said, unsure of how to respond to his sudden kindness. It felt unusual. 

“I picked a few songs that reminded me of you,” He smirks, “Don’t worry, they’re not all about a girl with an attitude problem.” With that he turned back around and walked towards the other exit to head to the car park. 

She felt ease on her chest as the usual teasing remarks returned, “Asshole,” She called out to him to which he just put his middle finger up in reply. 

. . . 

After taking a long shower in the girl’s shower rooms in her dorm block, Y/N headed back to her dorm after changing into a white shirt and sweatpants. She could feel the strain in her arms and legs as she flopped down onto her bed. 

Luckily Sarah wasn’t back from spending time with Mitch, so she took in the peace and quiet which came rare to her these days as all her mind had been on recently was the Academy Slam. 

Her mind wandered off to Harry and his words from earlier. Y/N knew she was a good tennis player but it was the first time she had heard someone else tell her that. She wasn’t expecting it, especially not from her tennis rival of the past ten years. 

Her eyes glanced at the cassette tape and the walkman she had placed on her desk before she headed off to the shower. Sitting up, she grabbed it and stared down at it for a moment before putting the cassette into the player and putting the headphones on. 

She laid back on her bed and looked up at the ceiling of her room. Her fingers hit the play button and the first song began to flood her ears. The first few beats of Nelly Furtado’s ‘Maneater’ began to play and she immediately rolled her eyes. Then afterwards, ‘Fergalicious’ by Fergie. 

She wondered how many songs Harry had managed to put on the cassette and how many were female anthems of empowerment. 

The next song seemed to catch her attention even further when Gorillaz ‘She’s my collar’ began to play. The beat now permanently injected into her bloodstream along with the rest of the album from the number of times she had listened to it. 

She wondered if Harry had known he had included a song by one of her favourite bands and whether he knew the meaning behind the song too. Maybe it had been a coincidence which was a thought Y/N had decided to settle on as she listened to the rest of the song. 

‘Nothing to be justified yet

She the first I'm running with

She the one that get my collar

She the one I'm running with (she's my collar)’

. . . 

The next day at school, Y/N sat in the library during her study period to study for her biology exam at the end of the week. Even though she was set on the scholarship, she still needed something to fall back on if she lost out in the next few games so she made sure she was still getting the best grades she could. It had also been ingrained in her to be the best in every class and she didn’t think that trait of hers would ever leave her. 

“Y/N!” Sarah called, her voice echoing within the silence of the library.

Ignoring the irritated glances she received, she paced towards Y/N and sat in the empty seat beside her. Y/N smiled at her friend’s excitement. They were foils to each other and that’s what made them get on so well. Whilst Y/N had a black cat personality, Sarah was sunshine in a person which was probably why she was so perfect for Mitch who was equally as bright. “What’s up?”

“I need to ask you something and you’re probably going to hate me but Harry’s already said yes and-”

“Sarah,” Y/N placed her hands on her shoulders, “Breathe.”

Sarah did exactly that before continuing, “Would you do a feature with Harry for the school newspaper?” 

Y/N frowned, “What?”

“The school newspaper? You know the club I’ve been part of for the past two years? They want to do a feature on your training for the sports section and I told them I would ask you.” Sarah explained. 

“Oh I don’t know about that-”

“Pleeeassseee,” Sarah gripped her arm that was resting on the desk and batted her eyelashes.

“You know I’d do anything for you Sarah but I don’t know if I have the time and my focus is on my next game,” Y/N replied. 

“Harry’s already said yes to it,” Sarah interjected.

“You asked him before me?” 

“Well actually,” Sarah hesitated, “Luke, the boy who’s writing the article, asked him this morning,”

“Why didn’t he ask me?” 

Sarah gave her a pointed look, “You’re not exactly the most approachable,” Y/N’s frown deepened at her words, “So will you do it?” 

Y/N sighed, considering it before giving Sarah an answer. The last thing she wanted was for someone to be asking unnecessary questions in time that could be used to train for the first round of the competition but Sarah was her best friend and she knew how much the school newspaper meant to her and her university applications too. 

“Alright,” She relented, “I’ll do it.”

Sarah squealed, receiving another round of vicious glares from other students in the library. Her arms wrapped around her in a tight hug, “Thank you,” She pulled away, “They’ll come by tomorrow afternoon during practice, is that okay?” Y/N nodded a response.

. . . 

It was raining outside. 

Y/N’s eyes stared out the window as she bounced a tennis ball on the hard floor of the gymnasium and wondered if the weather foreshadowed the next hour. 

“Will you sit down?” Harry muttered, “You’re giving me a headache,” 

“He’s late,” Y/N says, “We could have been practising,”

“Do you ever just do anything else?” Y/N shot him a glare at his sarcasm, “I get this is important to you but don’t you just want to, I don’t know, have fun?”

Y/N walked over to her seat right next to his and straightened herself for the interview the school newspaper had organised for them. Sarah had told both her and Harry to dress smartly for the occasion which, according to Harry meant a designer sweatshirt and trousers whilst Y/N had gone for a dress and pumps. It wasn’t overly smart for either of them but enough to make it seem like they had made an effort. 

“The fact that you’re even suggesting that tells me you have no idea how important this is to me,” Y/N responds, monotonously. 

She hears a scoff from beside her, “What?” 

He turns to face her, his face rather too close, she notices three moles on his right cheek that she hadn’t ever seen before, “I think I know better than anyone how important this is to you but I also know from experience how important being in high school is with people your own age.” She forgets sometimes that even though he was whisked away to fulfil his place in the Australian Open, that his time of being a kid was cut short, “I don’t go out of my way to coach just anybody,”

“What do you mean?” She frowns but before Harry could reply, the doors to the gym open and in scrambles a sixth year with a messenger bag and a tripod with a camera dangling from his neck. 

“It means,” he leans forward, murmuring, “if you had half the belief in yourself as I have in you then you wouldn’t need me at all.” 

“Sorry I’m late,” Luke’s voice echoes as he steps towards them and places all three legs of the tripod on the ground and scrambles to screw his camera to it. 

“What’s with the camera?” Y/N asked. 

“O-oh, we’re recording the interview so I can write everything up later and we’re going to need your pictures together afterwards,” Luke explained. 

“You want us to take a photo together?” Y/N frowned.

“Did Sarah not tell you?” Luke replied. 

“Calm down, love. It’s just a photo,” Harry murmured and she tried not to react to the nickname he had used for her. 

Once everything was set up, Luke sat across from them with his laptop on his thighs, questions already typed out, “So, you two have known each other for a while now?” Luke asked as he sat across from them. 

As Y/N was about to tell him how they didn’t exactly know each other on a personal level but knew each other through tennis, Harry spoke up, “Since we were both in third year. I was eight and Y/N was seven but we’ve been in the same class since we were infants.” 

Luke nodded, “That must help a lot in your partnership,” 

Harry chuckled lowly, “Something like that,”

Luke types a few things down in his computer before turning his attention to Y/N, “Um, Y/N what made you turn to Harry for his coaching other than the fact he won the Australian Open?”

Y/N frowned, what more reason did she need to give? “Well, the fact he won is a big reason as to why I approached him,”

“But isn’t he injured?” Harry stiffened beside her. The way he asked made it sound like he was defective, unusable.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, “Yes but I’ve seen Harry play games with a dislocated shoulder. He’d just pop it right back in and start playing again. His current injury doesn’t take away from the fact that he’s one of the best tennis players I’ve seen at Crestwood.” Y/N ignored the looks from the two boys. She knew she’d have to compliment Harry at some point during this interview, especially if they needed to show a united front for the games.

“And do think the same about Y/N?” Luke asked Harry who now seemed irritated by him.

“I think,” Y/N was prepared for a backhanded compliment but what she got was something entirely different, “Y/N has all the potential in the world to go for what she dreams of and I hope to watch her do it all even if that means I’m watching from the sidelines.” This time it was Y/N’s turn to glance at Harry, taken aback by his words. 

Luke spoke again, “You know some people are calling you the underdog in this tournament?” Y/N froze, it was the first time she had heard of it, “all the other women competing have had professional coaching and the school invests heavily in their tennis players.”

Y/N cleared her throat, “I didn’t know that but I have every intention of proving them wrong,” Harry bumped his knee with hers but she ignored it. 

“And What do your parents think about you doing this before leaving exams?” Luke asked. 

Y/N ignored the sting she felt at the thought of telling her parents what she was doing and the looks of disappointment she envisioned, which had been gnawing at the back of her head since she qualified. She answered confidently, "They're happy for me and excited to see me in the final."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows as Luke leaned in, his expression curious. "You think you'll get to the final?"

Harry scoffed, “Are you insinuating she won’t?” 

Luke backpedalled slightly, sensing he’d struck a nerve. "I didn't mean to suggest that at all. It's just that some people doubt the capabilities of those who haven't had professional coaching."

"Hey Luke, do me a favour and invite those people to the first game in three weeks' time. Let them witness firsthand what it's like watching a player as skilled as Y/N, without any professional coaching," Harry's frustration was palpable, catching Y/N off guard with his assertiveness. Typically, she would be the first to break in such situations but it seemed Harry already had.

Luke’s face warmed as he realised he overstepped, “R-right, let’s move on.” He scanned through his list of questions to find something more light-hearted to break up the mood, whilst Y/N straightened her shoulders, thankful they’d gotten to the final round of questions. “What do you both like to do outside of training?” 

“Together?” Y/N cringed, trying to picture spending time with Harry in a normal setting. 

“Not necessarily,” Luke shrugged. 

“My best friend is dating her best friend so we’ve been spending a lot more time together recently. Normally, I play guitar or recite poetry whenever I’m not coaching Y/N to volley properly,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the lies that left his mouth.  

“I study,” Y/N stated. 

“That’s it?” Luke’s eyebrows creased.

Her cheeks turned slightly pink, “I’m top of the class in all of my classes, that doesn’t just happen without hard work.”

She could feel Harry’s eyes on her and for the first time, she turned her head to catch his eyes. She noticed the frown on his lips and something in his eye that looked a lot more like concern or sympathy than the desire to tease her about her lack of social life. 

“Well, I think that will be enough,” Luke stood up and grabbed his camera, “Do you mind if we take a few photos now?”

Y/N and Harry stood from their seats, side by side and looked into the lens of the camera. Y/N’s cheeks hurt from forcing a smile as Harry did the same, “You’re standing too close to me,” Y/N spoke through her teeth as the camera flashed.

"Look who's talking with their giant foot squashing my shoe," Harry retorts, a playful glint in his eyes. Y/N inhales sharply, her gaze dropping to her foot to see what he's referring to. But before she can react, Harry smoothly slides his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side with practised ease. Their eyes meet, and just as the camera flashes, capturing the moment, Y/N side steps out of his grip with an annoyed huff.

“Okay, that will be all,” Luke smiled. 

As Luke packed his things away, Y/N and Harry stood awkwardly side by side without saying a word. Y/N glanced out the window and saw the sky had cleared up and the sun was setting. She needed to get back to her dorm to study for her French exam tomorrow as well as binge-watch tennis matches on YouTube which she’d been doing a lot recently. 

“Did you really mean that?” Harry asked, catching her attention, “All you do is study outside of school?”

Y/N looked at him, “I hang out with Sarah some days but yeah, I mostly study. I don’t really have a lot of choice and I’m not naturally smart.” Harry’s head tilted to the side like he was secretly questioning her in his head, “What? Aren’t you meant to crack a joke about me being stupid or something?”

Harry's eyes softened, his voice gentle. "I could never think you're stupid, love," he said, the nickname slipping from his lips with a tenderness that caught Y/N off guard. She found herself speechless, unable to figure out what had gotten into him recently. 

He pulled out his car keys from his back pocket and motioned his head towards the gymnasium exit, “C’mon,” He urged, “I wanna try something out and before you ask, it’s nothing to do with tennis or studying.”

Y/N’s feet stayed glued to the ground as he walked away and expected her to follow. She furrowed her brows and crossed her arms, wanting to refuse his invitation so she could get back to her dorm. But curiosity got the better of her and she followed a few paces behind him as he led her to the empty car park. 

Harry pressed the button on the car keys and the lights flashed on a black Audi hiding in the corner, “What are we doing?” She asked. 

“Have you ever driven a car before?” He wondered, looking at her with a hint of mischief. 

“Never,” She replied and was bewildered to see him open the door to the passenger seat instead of the driver’s seat. 

“Looks like it’s your lucky day, love,” He smirked.

Y/N’s eyes widened, “N-no! Harry, I'm not driving your stupidly expensive car.”

“C’mon,” Harry chuckled, “Don’t be chicken.”

She scoffed, “I’m not being chicken, I’m being sensible. If I crash that car, I don’t even think my parents will have enough money to fix it.”

“My parent’s will,” He grinned, cockily, “Get in,” 

“No, I’m not driving that car.” She insisted. 

Five minutes later, Y/N sat in the driver’s seat of Harry’s Audi with her fingers over her eyes as he instructed her on how to start. “Are you crazy?” She whimpers as he switches the engine on. 

“Stop worrying, I’ve got my hand on the break.” She looks down to see his hand already wrapped around the hand break, “Just stay calm and do what I told you to do. Clutch down, first gear and then ease your foot gently off the clutch.”

“You’re supposed to be teaching me tennis, not driving laps around the school parking lot,” Y/N argued.

“Think of this as a team bonding exercise,” He shrugged, “Okay now foot down on the clutch,”

“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had,” She strangled out, placing her shaky hands on the wheel.

“Relax,” Harry chuckled, “You’re being dramatic.”

“It won’t be so dramatic when we end up in a tree,” Y/N retorted as she carefully felt the pedals and pressed down slowly on the clutch. Feeling the car rise, Y/N gasped and removed her foot. 

“Calm down, it’s just because you put your foot on the clutch,” Harry was trying his best not to laugh at her, “Okay, now do it again.”

Y/N squeezed her hands on the wheel and repeated her actions, moving the gear stick “Okay, now carefully raise the clutch,” Harry instructed and as she did, he lowered the handbrake and the car slowly began to move forward. 

“Holy shit,” Y/N wailed, “We’re moving,”

This time, Harry did laugh unable to stop himself after seeing her reaction, “Make sure you turn the wheel or we really will end up in a tree,” 

Y/N did as she was told and turned the wheel slowly, “Okay, I’ll move into second,”

“Harry no!” She gasped but put the clutch down so he could move gears. 

“Atta girl,” He beamed.

Y/N’s worried expression soon turned into shock and then excitement as she moved slowly around the car park, “I’m driving Harry!” Y/N grinned and Harry swore it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

“You are,” He praised, “There’s nothing you can’t do.”

After switching between first and second gear and Y/N complaining that her feet were aching from how tense she was using the pedals, Harry offered to swap places and show her what it was really like to go out on an evening drive. 

“Harry!” Y/N choked on a laugh as he went all the way up to sixth gear down the empty streets in the middle of nowhere, “Slow down,” She squealed. 

Harry glanced at her, grinning when he saw how wide the smile was on her face. He pressed his finger on the button to wind down all the windows, “Oh shit I love this song,” He turned the volume up on the stereo as Beyonce’s ‘Love on Top’ started playing, blaring loudly through the speakers of his car. 

“Baby it’s you! You’re the one I love! You’re the one I need!” Harry screamed the lyrics of the song and Y/N’s laughter sounded through the entire car as her hair blew behind her. “Sing it, baby!” He cheered, neither of them realising what he had called her. 

“I’m not gonna sing it,” She shook her head, her eyes squeezing shut as the engine revved. 

“It’s the only way I’m gonna slow down,” He teased as the build-up to the chorus played. 

Y/N giggled as Harry began to sing solo to the chorus again, giving her a look that had her rolling her eyes before she screamed out the lyrics alongside him, “When I need you, make everything stop! Finally, you put my love on top!”

Their laughter merged together as the song played out. Harry slowed down the closer they got back to town and cast a sideways glance at Y/N who was brushing her wind-swept hair with her fingers. “You okay?” He asked, seeing the glow on her face. 

“Yeah,” She bit her lip, “I’m okay. I just don’t get to do stuff like this… ever really.”

He nodded in understanding. Harry had met Y/N’s parents a few times before. His parents were frequent visitors to their country club so he knew what they were like but he had no idea of the extent of the pressures they had put on Y/N to do well. It reminded him of his own parents and the last thing he wanted to do was allow someone to feel the same way he did whenever his parents were too hard on him. 

“Wanna pull in somewhere to get something to eat?” Harry asked. It was getting late and they both had school tomorrow but he couldn’t seem to allow himself to let her go- not when she was having so much fun. 

“Okay,” Y/N nodded. 

He pulled into a dessert shop that was still open. Y/N followed him inside and to a booth in the corner. Harry ordered both of them bowls of soft-serve ice cream and Y/N even asked if she could have a strawberry milkshake to go with it. “I shouldn’t really be eating,” She told him.

“Hmm I heard drinking strawberry milkshakes improves your footwork. They served them all the time in Australia,” Y/N shot him a look that told him she knew he was bullshitting her but it made him smile. 

“Are you nervous about the game coming up?” They’d been training non-stop every evening and Y/N was quickly improving everything she had already learnt on her own. After considering Harry’s words a few days ago, she knew Harry was right. He had been good for her technique and she felt even more sure of herself than she did at the beginning. 

“No,” She said coolly, “I don’t have time to be nervous.”

Harry scoffed, “I don’t believe that for a second.” 

The waitress came over and placed their desserts in front of them, along with a strawberry milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top. “Mitch says he’s going to throw a party at my place if you make it through to the semi-finals.”

“A party at your place?” Y/N quirked a brow.

Harry sighs, “He came up with the idea of throwing a party and then just kind of decided it would be at mine.” He explained. 

Y/N nodded and took a sip of her milkshake. It had been so long since she had had something so sugary and sweet. She hummed before realizing she was being watched by the boy opposite her, “Just so you know, even though you bought these desserts and taught me how to drive, doesn’t mean I like you.”

Harry laughed, his eyes crinkling and dimples carving into his cheeks. Y/N’s heart stuttered but she pushed the feeling down, “Okay, tomorrow you can go back to hating me again and we’ll pretend today didn’t happen.”

“And you can do the same,” She says. 

Harry gives her a look, his eyes flashing with something she couldn’t put a label on, “I don’t hate you Y/N.” 

She frowns, “You’ve always hated me,” 

“No,” He shook his head, “Never.”

“But you’re always making fun of me,” And she always did the same. 

“Because it’s the only way I get to speak to you.” He admits. 

Y/N’s lips parted in surprise, unable to believe what she was hearing. She had always assumed Harry had hated her since their rivalry had gone on for so long. She didn’t know what to say, confused by the sudden revelation.

“Ew,” It came out before she even had time to think, “Don’t be nice to me, it’s making me uncomfortable.” 

Harry seemed to deflate but quickly placed a smile on his face, “You make me uncomfortable and you’re singing, by the way, is awful.” 

Y/N scoffed, "At least I don't sound like a dying goat." Despite the return of their familiar banter, her heart seemed to continue to flutter under Harry's earnest gaze, stirring a mix of emotions within her that she’d never felt before. 

She didn’t know what was going on with her but the last thing she needed to think about was her emotions when her biggest goal to date was right before her. 

. . .

Three weeks had gone by far too quickly for Y/N’s liking.

“Again,” Harry drawled.

Y/N gritted her teeth and repeated the backswing technique Harry had shown her but the angle was all wrong and the ball ended up going completely off court.

“Fuck,” Y/N spat, throwing her tennis racket on the floor and squatting, balling her hands into fists on her head.

Harry sighed, walking over. “You’re nervous about tomorrow,” He stated like he didn’t need her to confirm despite the fact she had constantly told everyone she wasn’t nervous about anything. 

“I just need to win,” She mumbled.

“Get up,” Harry ordered. 

Y/N did as she was told and stood up. He grabbed the racket from the floor that she’d thrown across the court like a toddler throwing their toys out a pushchair and flipped the racket between both of his hands. He handed it back to her and grabbed his own.

“I want you to mirror my actions,” He says and stands a few steps away from her. 

He steps forward, tossing the tennis ball into the air before swinging his racket with both hands, expertly landing it in the left corner of the opposing court. Y/N tracks his every move, mimicking his actions as if she were his shadow.

Y/N’s ball lands slightly off target and Harry bites his lip to stop himself from smiling at the scowl on her face. He walks towards her and comes up behind her. Y/N’s breathing hitches when she feels his fingertips press gently on her arm. 

“You need to straighten this arm more,” He advises, his fingertips sliding down her arm and leaving a trail of goosebumps as he straightens her arm out. “Calm down,” he murmurs, his mouth near her ear, “I can feel your heart beating.”

Y/N seems to lose every ounce of oxygen when he places his hand flat against her back where he can feel her heart beating, “Breathe,” He says, “You will win tomorrow, I will make sure of it.” 

The warmth that flooded Y/N’s body quickly left as Harry took a step back, “Try it again,” He nodded towards her racket.

Y/N sighed, tensing her muscles again after Harry had practically managed to turn them into liquid. She tried to ignore the flutter in all of the pulse points in her body that were screaming to make contact with that new presence and swung her racket, landing the ball exactly where she wanted. 

“There y’ go,” He murmurs, almost as if he was saying it to himself. “I think we should call that it for today,”

“What?” Y/N frowned, “The game is tomorrow, I need to practice.”

“Y/N, we’ve been practising for half the day already. You’re going to wear yourself out if you carry on,” Harry tells her.

“Fine,” She huffed but Harry gave her a knowing look.

“Come to my place,” He offers.

“Why would I do that?” She goes to grab her sweatshirt on the bench and pulls it over her head. It was getting colder now that the sun was going down. 

“Because I know you’re just going to come back here once I leave and trust me, you don’t want to do that.” She opened her mouth to refuse but he continued, “We can watch Wimbledon on TV and order pizza.”

She wondered how he knew that Wimbledon was one of her favourite movies and pizza was her favourite food. “Is it the DVD exclusive?” Y/N asked.

Harry’s lips tilted upwards, “Of course,” Y/N nodded, following him to his car so he could drive them to his apartment. 

Y/N remembered the last time she was in Harry's car three weeks ago. It was the first time Y/N truly enjoyed being in his company and the first time she had allowed herself to have fun and relax. 

The day after,  they resumed their usual arguing as if the previous night hadn't occurred. However, Y/N found herself overwhelmed by a surge of unfamiliar emotions swirling within her.

Despite the bickering, she kept noticing things about Harry—like the way he smiled and talked. It made her feel weird like there was something more between them that she hadn't noticed before.

The air was silent between them as the radio played lowly in the background. Harry turned into a block of apartments that looked far too expensive for a student to afford all by themself. “This is where you live?” Y/N asked, her eyes widening as he pulled into a spot. 

“For now,” He says. 

Y/N trailed behind Harry as they rode the elevator to the fifth floor and made their way to his apartment. When he swung open the door, flooding the space with light, Y/N couldn't help but notice the spaciousness of the apartment, as well as its emptiness.

“I haven’t had time to unpack,” Harry said, walking to the kitchen after kicking his shoes off, “Do you want anything to drink?”

“I’ll just take a glass of water,” Y/N’s eyes darted to all of the boxes that covered the floor. 

She walked to the kitchen area and leaned against the counter, “Are those your trophies?” She asked, seeing the metal cups in an open box.

Harry smiled, “Yeah, I’ve kept all of mine even the ones that didn’t count.” 

“They all count,” Y/N grins, walking over and pulling one out, “The battle of the sexes trophy.” 

Harry smirked, walking round to stand beside her, “I still remember the look on your face when they handed me that trophy. If looks could kill, love, I don’t think I would be here.” 

“It was a big deal to me okay?” Y/N replies, “I seemed to blame you for all my losses when I was a kid.” 

Harry’s expression softens and his head turns to look at her, “Will you blame me if you don’t win tomorrow?” 

Y/N’s smile falters, “No, I’d blame myself. I think if I lost this, I don’t know who I would be anymore. Tennis is my life.”

Harry’s eyes glint underneath the soft lighting of the kitchen, “God,” He whispers, “You drive me crazy y’ know that?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Do you think you could love anything more?” He asks, ignoring her question. 

“I can’t think of anything, if I did I’d have to love it an awful lot.”

“Okay,” He nods like he’s accepting a challenge. 

Y/N narrows her eyes, “What are you thinking?” 

“Nothing,” He shrugs, “But I want you to know-”

Before Harry could finish his sentence, the door swings open and the shrill sound of his mother’s voice fills the air. Y/N stands straight and she notices Harry tense up, taking a step in front of her, he pushes her behind him.

“Harry,” His mother sighs, “How are you darling?” 

“Mum,” He replies, curtly, “What are you doing here?”

“Your father’s running late home so I thought I would come by to see how you were,” She says and then looks behind him.

Y/N doesn’t need Harry to introduce her as she steps forward and holds out a hand, “Hi Mrs Styles, it’s nice to see you again.” 

"Y/N?" Anne gasped, her eyes widening in surprise. "You've grown so much, you're beautiful." She reached out, taking both of Y/N's hands in hers and giving her an appraising look.

Y/N's cheeks flushed at the compliment. "Thank you, Mrs. Styles," she stammered, feeling a mixture of nerves and warmth.

Anne smiled warmly. "Oh, call me Anne," she insisted before turning her attention to Harry. "I didn't know you two were such good friends."

Y/N and Harry exchanged a quick glance, both unsure of how to respond.

"I'm her coach," they both blurted out simultaneously, the words tumbling out in a rush.

Anne's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What?" she exclaimed, her gaze flitting between them. "You're coaching?"

Harry nodded, his expression serious. "Yes," he confirmed quietly.

"But Harry, your injury," Anne interjected, concern evident in her voice as she glanced down at his leg. "You're not meant to be—"

"I'm fine, Mum," Harry interrupted sharply, his tone making no room for argument.

"Harry, you know you can’t be playing-"

"I said I'm fine," Harry's voice rose, his frustration evident as he cut her off, causing Y/N to jump at the sudden outburst.

Anne's concern softened into a resigned sigh, her eyes reflecting a mixture of worry and understanding. "Alright, Harry," she relented, her tone gentler now. "Just promise me you're taking care of yourself."

Harry's features softened, a hint of remorse flickering in his eyes. "I promise, Mum," he said, his voice softer now, more subdued.

Anne nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Good. That's all I ask."

As the atmosphere relaxed, Anne turned her attention back to Y/N, her smile warm and welcoming. "Well, it's lovely to see you again, Y/N," she said kindly. “Tell your parents we’ll be stopping by in the spring.”

Y/N returned the smile, her earlier nervousness dissipating in the warmth of Anne's acceptance. "It was nice to see you too, " she replied sincerely.

Harry glanced at Y/N, a softness in his gaze that made her heart skip a beat. After seeing his mother out following her very brief visit, Y/N finally mustered the courage to ask, "What was she talking about?"

Harry's expression turned grave, his features shadowed by a sense of burden. "It was nothing," he replied.

"Why can't you play?" Y/N pushed, her concern evident in her voice.

"Y/N, I'm telling you to leave it alone," Harry warned, his tone firm.

But Y/N couldn't let it go. "If it's nothing, then why can't you tell me?" she insisted, her frustration bubbling to the surface.

"Because it's none of your business, that's why," Harry snapped, his words cutting like a knife. 

"Nothing I do or say has anything to do with you, so go back to hating me because it's a hell of a lot easier than what I have to deal with."

Y/N's heart sank at his harsh words. With a deep breath, she crossed her arms, her resolve hardening. "You know, now I remember why we never got along in the first place," she retorted, her voice laced with bitterness. With a sharp turn on her heel, she made her way to the front door. "You're such an asshole, Harry."

"Y/N," Harry called out, his voice tinged with regret as she stormed out of his apartment towards the elevator. "Y/N, come on, don't be like that."

"Go suck a dick," she shot back, stepping into the elevator before Harry could stop her.

As the doors closed, Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat. "Let me drive you back, at least," he pleaded, his voice barely audible over the sound of the closing doors.

"Fine," Y/N huffed, her tone clipped with annoyance.

The car ride back to her dorm was tense and silent. When Harry pulled into the front of her dormitory, Y/N moved to open the door finding the silence far too uncomfortable. Then, out of nowhere, Harry's voice broke the silence. "I can't play tennis anymore," he confessed, his words heavy.

Y/N's heart stopped, her breath catching in her throat. "What do you mean you can't play anymore? That's ridiculous," she exclaimed, her disbelief evident in her voice.

Harry's hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I mean I can't ever play tennis again," he admitted, his voice cracking with emotion.

"Are you serious?" Y/N asked, her voice trembling with shock.

"I tore my ACL during practice for the French Open. I—" Harry's voice trailed off, unable to continue, “It was so bad Y/N and I was in so much fucking pain and no one would listen to me. I went through multiple surgeries and rehab but the doctors sat me down and said I couldn’t play unless I wanted to fuck up my leg for the rest of my life.” 

“Harry…” Y/N’s eyes glistened with tears. 

Her breath caught in her throat as the weight of Harry's words sank in. She glanced over at him, seeing the pain etched in his features, and felt a surge of empathy wash over her. It was a devastating blow for someone who had dedicated their life to the sport they loved.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with genuine sadness for the boy beside her.

Harry managed a small nod, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, “That’s why I had to come back here. My father can barely look at me and my mother won’t leave me alone. At least here I can be around people my own age but when I’m at home, it’s fucking suffocating Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t imagine losing the one thing she loved above anything else in the world and have to re-construct everything she had ever known to find something else to love just as much. 

“I don’t expect you to say anything but I’d appreciate it if you showed me a little mercy,” He spoke. 

“Why would you offer to coach me then? Would that not make things worse?” She asked.

He looks at her, really looks at her, like there was something on the tip of his tongue he wanted to say but couldn’t, “I figured it would alleviate the pain.” 

“But I saw you play, I watched you and you beat me,” She exclaimed.

“Yeah and it hurt like a bitch afterwards,” He shook his head.

Y/N couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She wondered why Harry had been unwilling to play against her during the training sessions and now she knew why. She felt awful, her heart was hurting for him. 

“I don’t want you to feel pity for me and I don’t want this to change anything between us. I’m tired of being treated like a broken toy and I think it would kill me inside if you looked at me differently.” 

Y/N stayed quiet, facing forward and collecting her thoughts before saying, “Thank you for telling me,” She murmured, “And it doesn’t change anything. You’re still an asshole,”

Harry laughed and then his pinky brushed the side of her hand, “You will be everything tomorrow.” He whispered.

Y/N’s heart fluttered at the soft edge of his words, “You think so?”

His eyes softened, “I believe in you, more than anyone in the entire world.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath and looking out the window. The tension had settled and now a newfound respect lingered between them. 

She would win tomorrow, for herself and for him. 

. . . 

It had been a while since Harry had been to a tennis tournament. The last time he was on a court for an official match was well over six months ago, it was a challenger match he participated in during his training for the French Open before his life took a vast turn. 

He sat in the stands with everyone else from Crestwood who had come to watch the first game. Although Crestwood Academy invested more in the football team than any other sport, the turnout had been pretty good and nearly every seat was occupied by a student or teacher. 

On the opposite side was Eaststone Academy who seemed to have invested heavily in their merchandise for Y/N’s opponent. Everyone was either wearing a t-shirt with Vanya’s name on it or carrying a sign with supportive catchphrases written in bold marker. 

Harry craned his neck in hopes of seeing Y/N preparing herself somewhere outside of the court but couldn’t find her anywhere. He’d sent her a quick message this morning and asked her if she needed anything but she insisted she wanted to be alone. 

“Fuck, it’s good we got in the queue early,” Mitch came by with an anxious Sarah, holding two cokes in his hand. They were both wearing navy shirts and sweatbands around their heads, Sarah was holding a sign that had Y/N’s name on it. 

“She’s gonna hate you for that,” Harry tried not to smile.

“Oh I already know,” Sarah said, “She watched me make it last night and then almost ripped in half when I asked her if I should bedazzle it.”

Harry’s expression changed into one of concern, “How was she?”

“She’s nervous but she insisted she was okay,” Sarah rolled her eyes, “You know how she is.”

He did, which was why he was willing to accept the fact she wanted to be by herself even though he was desperate to drive over there with strawberry milkshakes just so he could see that smile he had been dreaming about for the past three weeks. 

Suddenly, Eaststone Academy stood from their seats and cheered as Vanya Maddison came onto the court. “I’ve never seen such long legs,” Sarah gasped, saying what both Harry and Mitch were thinking. 

Harry’s heart pounded in his chest as the people around him stood on their feet. He glanced down to the court and his eyes fell on Y/N as she walked onto the court with a dip between her brows and her tennis bag over her shoulder. 

She was wearing a white, pleated skort and a Ralph Lauren polo shirt. Her hair was slicked back as tightly as possible into a braid and her white runners were tied up on her feet. He noticed she was wearing earbuds in her ears and then found the walkman he had given her clipped to her skort. He smiled at that, wondering which of the many songs he had put together she was listening to. 

“There she is,” Sarah pointed and then waved to get her attention. 

Y/N held a hand over her face to block the sun and looked up at the crowd. When she caught sight of Sarah, she offered a friendly wave before her eyes landed on Harry. She gave him a nod of acknowledgement and then walked to her seat on the other side of the umpire. 

“C’mon,” Harry murmured, feeling his palms sweating at the sight of her. 

“She’s got this in the bag, H.” Mitch puts a hand on his shoulder. 

Through the speakers, the umpire calls out the start of the match and everyone falls silent as both players walk to opposing sides of the court. Y/N bounces on her feet and swings her racket backwards and forwards as though warming herself up before the match starts.

When the first serve came, Y/N's reflexes kicked in. She returned the ball swiftly, keeping the rally going with her quick movements, remembering what Harry had taught her. Each exchange became more intense, but Y/N stayed determined, chasing down every ball.

When Vanya hit the ball for the other corner, Y/N ran towards it and returned the ball swiftly, earning the first point with a well-placed shot. The crowd erupted into cheers as Y/N gained an early lead.

“That’s my girl!” Harry clapped his heart in his throat. 

But Vanya wasn't about to let up. With determination in her eyes, she fought back, winning the next two points with powerful serves and precise shots. The score was now in Vanya's favor, and the pressure was on for Y/N.

“Fuck!” Y/N released a growl and hit her racket against the floor before storming off to her seat. Harry was tempted to walk down and help her but he needed to let her see what she was capable of on her own. 

Her anger was radiating from her, “I’d hate to get on her bad side,” Mitch said. 

Harry couldn’t seem to reply as he leant forward with both his elbows on his knees. “C’mon, c’mon, you can do it.” He mutters, thinking of the first bit of advice he had given her. 

“Do you know what your biggest strength is in this game?” Harry asked.

“My speed?” Y/N frowned. 

“Your anger,” He replies, “Off the court, it’s a little annoying but on the court, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Use it.” 

Y/N rolled her shoulders back and stood on her feet. She walked back to her line on the court and bounced the ball up and down on the ground before throwing it up in the air and hitting it with a flat serve, exactly the way Harry had taught her. Her anger radiated from her as she slammed the ball with her racket and hit it with such force it went flying to the other end of the court but not before bouncing inside the square right by Vanya’s foot. 

Harry stood to his feet and pumped his fist into the air, “Holy shit!” Mitch exclaimed as Sarah cheered beside him. 

They were now at match point and Y/N had to win this next round if she wanted to win the entire game.

The tension thickened in the air as people sat on the edge of their seats to see who would come out on top. This time, it was Vanya’s turn to serve as she launched the ball into the air and hit it with her racket to Y/N’s side of the court.

As Y/N unleashed powerful serves and precise shots, Harry found himself captivated by her every move. With each grunt of exertion, each flex of her muscles, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Despite the shifting heads of the spectators around him as they followed the ball back and forth, his gaze remained fixed solely on her.

Every aspect of Y/N's play had him in a trance—the way her muscles rippled as she sprinted across the court, the intensity in her expression as she anticipated Vanya’s next move, the graceful sway of her hair with each swing of her racket.

But as Harry watched, something stirred within him. A warmth spread through his veins, igniting a fire deep within him. Suddenly, he felt a tightness in his shorts, a physical reaction to the raw power and determination radiating from Y/N on the court.

"Oh, fuck," Harry muttered under his breath, his heart racing as he glanced down and saw the undeniable bulge in his shorts. Panic surged through him, his mind reeling with embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" Mitch's voice cut through his thoughts, and Harry quickly lowered his drink to conceal his arousal.

“N-Nothing,” Harry forces a smile, “I need to use the bathroom.” He doesn’t wait for Mitch to respond as she pushes past everyone to get away from the crowd.

He walks quickly over to his car and jumps into the driver's seat, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He didn’t know what to do. He felt like he was thirteen years old after experiencing girls for the first time again. Was it wrong to rub himself off in the middle of a tennis match when all he was looking at was the girl who played his favourite sport better than anyone he had ever seen, dominating the game with her anger and intensity like she was a complete animal?

He couldn’t shake the image of her from his mind and his cock seemed to ache the more he thought about how beautiful she was on the court, completely in her element, anger and passion emitting from her. Every grunt and groan she made as she hit the ball with so much fervor had his head spiralling. 

He looked down and tried to will it away, he needed to get back out there to see her win the game. He thought of every disturbing thing he could possibly think of and even took out his phone to google the quickest way to get rid of an erection.

The excited yells of the crowd told him someone had won and he prayed he would return and see Y/N with the medal around her neck. 

After about ten minutes of taking deep breaths, he finally felt composed enough to leave his car. With a flustered face, he made his way back toward the court, silently praying for some kind of cosmic intervention to erase the embarrassing moment from his memory.

As he turned the corner, he spotted Mitch and Sarah engaged in conversation with Y/N, who was proudly wearing the gold medal around her neck. She had won - he knew she would. 

Y/N's eyes lit up as she noticed him, a wide smile spreading across her face as she proudly displayed her medal. Unable to resist, he grinned back in response.

Sweat glistened on her skin, her cheeks flushed with exertion, and delicate strands of hair framed her face. At that moment, she radiated beauty, and he couldn't deny the sudden surge of emotions that had slowly been weaving themselves into the fabric of his feelings ever since he had returned to Crestwood. 

If the past fifteen minutes were anything to go by, Harry knew this was more than just a game of tennis. 

He was in trouble.

. . .

People cheered as Y/N entered Harry’s apartment with Sarah at her side, holding beer cans in the air and patting her on the shoulder as she sifted through the crowds of people. S&M by Rhianna played over the speakers as the apartment that was previously empty was now filled up with student’s from Crestwood. 

“There she is,” Mitch’s voice yelled over the music, “Crestwood’s very own Serena Williams,”

“I wouldn’t go that far Mitch,” She chuckled, unable to stop herself from smiling so hard after the excitement of her first win. 

Y/N’s eyes scanned the room as she went in search of the one person she wanted to see whilst everyone fell into conversation around her. 

That’s when she saw him, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup in his hand. His hair was a tangled mess, and his body was adorned in a loose, white shirt, its u-neck revealing the inked pair of swallows beneath his collarbones and gold chain around his neck. On his legs, he wore a loose pair of black trousers.

Y/N held back a smile as she made her way over to him until she realised who he was talking to. 

Her face fell as she saw the angelic blonde, tanned and glowing like she’d just come back from a holiday somewhere south of the equator. 

Harry’s face lit up as Y/N approached until he realised what was going on.

“Hey,” He smiled, trying to distract her. 

“Where were you?” Y/N snapped her gaze towards him. 

“What do y’ mean? M right here,” He spoke, “You were incredible out there.”

“Who’s this?” Y/N ignored him, folding her arms and looking at the girl he was speaking to. Y/N knew exactly who she was but felt the need to act as though she had never seen her before. 

Harry hesitated for a moment before introducing her. “Y/N, this is Astrid.”

Astrid flashed a dazzling smile at Y/N, her demeanour friendly yet confident. “Congratulations on the win today, Y/N. I’m looking forward to our match in the semifinals.”

Harry's reaction was immediate. “What?” he stammered, clearly taken aback.

“You didn’t know?” Astrid asked, surprised. “Y/N and I will be facing off in the semifinals.”

Y/N grit her teeth and forced a smile, the two girls eyeing each other up and down as Harry’s eyes darted anxiously between them.

Now that Y/N was into the semi-finals her next opponent was Astrid Anderson, one of the best junior, female tennis players in the county. 

Who just so happened to be Harry’s ex-girlfriend.

[syddsatyrn]

⛧Devotion is Love with Wings⛧ Chapter Two: Emotions Unveiled

Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4

⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

⛧Warnings: Alcohol, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, king x servant, panic attack, heartbreak, happy ending.

⛧Words: 2.5K

⛧Summary: Feelings surface and the line between duty and desire begins to blur. Admitting your feelings to the King of Hell could be the best or worst thing that's ever happened to you. Lucifer battles with his own internal struggles in silence.

⛧Notes: Ask and you shall receive, my dears! You all asked me for a part two so here we go! Keep an eye out for my next fic because its time for some Alastor content! My beta reader is @hellfiremunsonn and she deserve all the rainbows and cupcakes.

⛧Tag list: @loslox @tiedyedghoulette @naiadic

------------------

As the soft rays of the morning sun seeped through the velvet curtains, you slowly opened your eyes, blinking a few times, adjusting to the gentle light. Despite the room still cloaked in soothing darkness, you knew you were in Lucifer's room. It takes you a moment to recall last night's events. You feel his breath on the back of your neck and his arm around your midsection. You can feel your face get hotter with every detail you take in. He is comfortably curled up behind you sound asleep. He needs rest, you’re afraid to move a muscle and wake him. You look over at the clock on the wall, you both are extremely late for breakfast.

“...Shit.” You say under your breath. Lucifer begins to move slightly, he lets out a soft hum and holds you just a bit closer. You can’t tell if he’s awake or not, even though you truly did not want to get out of bed, it had to be done. You slowly sit up and turn around, you almost place your hand on his shoulder but you take a moment to admire his sweet sleeping face. Instead, you gently place your hand on his cheek. Lucifer’s eyes flutter open, he meets your gaze and gives you a sleepy smile.

“Good morning…” He says softly while holding your wrist, keeping your hand on his cheek. You wanted to pull away, but his eyes made you want to just crawl back into his arms and go back to sleep.

“G-Good Morning, sir.” You stutter a little, Lucifer’s smile turns into a small smirk, he is amused by how flustered you are. He finally lets go and you try to compose yourself, but it's hard to do so when he looks so cute.

“I’ll go get some coffee, it looks like we slept in.” You finally break the spell he had on you and crawl out of his bed. When you leave, Lucifer immediately misses your presence close to him, having you next to him made a significant difference in his mood and sleep. It was the first time he’d felt the warmth of another person in a long time, and now that he’s had a taste, he wants more.

You head down the hall to your room, when you enter you quickly shut the door, thankful no one saw you. You get dressed in your uniform and head downstairs to the kitchen. While you made coffee, the staff were surprised to see you so late into the morning. You make up a quick excuse, stating you were not feeling well but you’re doing much better now so it's nothing to worry about.

You take two cups of coffee upstairs on a silver tray, and you do your best to mentally shift into work mode, but you can't stop thinking about last night. You return to his room, the king is still in bed, sporting a satisfied look on his face. You hand him his coffee and place the tray on the bedside table. 

“Thank you, my dear.” He says and gestures for you to sit on the bed, so you take your cup from the tray and have a seat.

“I want to apologize.” You start, and he looks at you with a raised brow. “I shouldn't have fallen asleep in your quarters. That was inappropriate of me.”

“I’m gonna stop you there, you do exactly what is asked of you. Everything you do is for my benefit. I could never be upset with you for something like that.” He says with a gentle voice. His gold eyes soften as he realizes you’re being serious.

“Thank you…” You reply, just barely above a whisper. His words made you feel a little better, you only want to do what's best for your king…but sometimes you can get carried away. You would do anything for him, that includes bending the rules.

“Now stop sulking.” He says and crawls over to you, sitting beside you on the bed. He is seated rather close, you look away trying to hide your red face. He turns your face back towards him using his index finger and thumb. “You’re too pretty to be so sad.”

“Y-You forget yourself, sir.” You stutter, barely keeping it together. You finish your coffee and return the cup to the tray. When you stand up and walk towards the wardrobe, Lucifer chuckles at your attempt to remain dignified. He is knocking down walls with the way he speaks to you. Breaking down each professional boundary one at a time. His touch was setting you on fire and you were running out of ways to extinguish it.

You sort through his clothes and pull out a black suit with red and white embellishments. You set it on the corner of the bed like you always do. “I’ll make sure I have your lunch ready for you in your study, sir” You say quickly, with a red blush spread across your face, you take the tray and quickly excuse yourself.

You rush down the hall and back to your room. Your chest heaves and you're out of breath. What in the devil's name happened there?! He looked like he was going to kiss you, his face was so close and he called you pretty! What is this idiot doing? You cover your face with your sleeves and pace back and forth in your room.

You always prided yourself on your composure. You navigate life’s twists and turns with a steady hand and a level head. At first, you brushed off these fluttering feelings as a mere passing fancy. You find yourself in front of a mental crossroads, on one hand, there is the exhilarating rush of new emotions. On the other was fear of rejection, an unconventional relationship, and possible heartbreak. If you ruin what you have with Lucifer, you will end up with nothing. All your years climbing the hierarchy would be null and void.

But what if it was possible? No, it couldn't be, there was just no way. As far as you are aware, you’ve never heard of such a situation that ended well. This can’t possibly be happening, you need some time to sort yourself out. But at some point, you are going to see him again today and you’re not sure how you’ll handle it. You always buried your feelings deep within your heart, locking them away like a precious treasure hidden from prying eyes. You’d like to think you're capable of continuing this facade, but this time you are not so sure.

-----------------

Lucifer sighs as you leave the room, your reactions are rather fascinating though. He gets up and takes his clothes to the bathroom to dress himself. Lucifer is well aware of the power dynamic here, and he has a habit of pushing things as far as he can. It comes with the territory of normally having anything he wants. He buttons his vest and looks at himself in the mirror. So what if he had a thing for his advisor? He wonders if he’s just lonely and that’s why he’s acting this way…even if that was true, it wouldn’t explain the relief he feels every time you enter a room. He puts on his coat, straightens his hat, and leaves his room to spend time in his study. 

He opens the door and notices his lunch is sitting on his desk along with some invoices to sign and an overview of yesterday's meeting. This is unusual, you normally bring him his meal and check in on his daily progress at this time. This is cause for concern, indeed. Was Y/N avoiding him? Surely that can't be true, they would never just ignore him like that. He slumps into his chair, wondering if he messed up somehow. 

Did he ruin the years of trust they had built? He still wants her around, he would hate the idea of anyone else taking your place. The more he thought about it the more the pit in his stomach grew. He attempts to eat but can’t put down much food, his nerves are making it difficult to eat. He needs to find you and apologize, he has to make this right somehow. 

-----------------

Hours go by and you’ve done your best to avoid Lucifer at all costs, but you can't keep this up forever. You are standing on a large balcony in the dining room wearing your pajamas. The sun has set and the stars are visible in the sky, there is a chill in the air. You let out a defeated sigh, you’re going to have to tell him or forget about your feelings completely. You fear that if you confessed your love, the delicate threads that bind you both together would fray and snap. If you forget and try to move on, how bad is it going to hurt when he finds a new love? It would ache so bad you might have to leave his manor entirely, you knew that if that were to happen, it would shatter Lucifer's heart.

You feel a few drops of rain fall on your skin, and as each minute passes the rain becomes heavier and heavier. You look out into the courtyard, it’s getting late and you should be heading inside but you stand there, tears in your eyes. How could you be so foolish and self-centered? You knew the rules and you chose to defy them, it's your own fault you feel so awful.

Suddenly the rain is no longer hitting you, you don't feel the cold drops on your face anymore. You turn around and Lucifer is standing in the doorway, his large wing covers you, shielding you from the rain.

“Hey…Can we talk?” He says with a soft look of concern on his face. You nod while wiping your face with your sleeves, he motions for you to come back inside. He walks slightly ahead of you, leading you upstairs to his bedroom. He opens the door for you and gives you a small half-smile. Lucifer walks over to his desk and pours you both a glass of bourbon. He hands you a glass and you take a seat at the small table next to the window. He sits across from you, you can tell he's a bit anxious because he keeps looking away. You take a sip from your drink, hoping the alcohol will settle your nerves. 

The ambiance of the dimly lit room, the soft glow of candlelight danced upon his face. With a hesitant breath, Lucifer cleared his throat. 

“I need to apologize to you,” Lucifer says with a despairing look on his face. “I’m sure you’ve felt confused and in distress all day.” He takes a sip of his drink while trying to find the right words. “Before I begin, let me just say that I think so highly of you. Y/N, you’ve been there for me during every awful situation I’ve faced and I am so grateful for you.”

He grabs your hand and his expression changes to a more serious one. “I don't want you to leave my side. I couldn’t bear it if I did something to make you leave.”

“Sir, I–” You try to speak but Lucifer interrupts you.

“Y/N. I need you to drop the formalities for ten minutes, please.” He cuts you off and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Is there something going on between us or am I just a lonely, divorced, delusional, man making it all up in my head so I don't feel so shitty about my life?”

You are shocked by his words, you had no idea he felt that way about himself. 

“You’re not delusional, Lucifer.” You answer, it takes you a moment to gather your thoughts and put them in order. “It's all my fault, really. I guess after all this time I’ve developed some feelings.”

Lucifer’s eyes widen, his face softens and he squeezes your hand and you look back into his eyes with a small smile. “I think I just got carried away, I know nothing can happen between us. It would be unacceptable and irredeemable. I’m the delusional one, to think you could ever love someone like me.” You reply while looking down at your drink, your finger toying with the rim of the glass.

Without a word, without warning, Lucifer leaned over the table and grabbed ahold of your shirt. He pulls you close so that you are face to face, leaning over the table. You could feel his breath on your lips as he said, “Love doesn't adhere to rules or expectations, darling. I will choose to defy every convention, every decree if it means I get to spend the rest of my life devoted to someone I love.”

Tears started to well up in your eyes, he slowly closed the gap between you both. His lips softly pressed against yours. Time stopped in that moment, amidst the chaos of entangled emotions. The taste was bittersweet, you’ve only ever dreamed of this. His hand lets go of your shirt and caresses your face. You kiss him back with fervor, a silent confession that speaks volumes. Both of you daring to defy the boundaries of monarchy and courtier.

You lace your fingers with his, he stands up and pulls you out of your seat. You practically fell into his arms, Lucifer held the back of your head, the other arm wrapped around your waist.

Your tears flowed freely as you hid your face in his chest. He holds you tight, offering you silent comfort as you let out quiet sobs. Lucifer strokes your hair and kisses the top of your head.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize…” He says, barely above a whisper. “Just let me take care of you for once, my love.” Before you can protest, Lucifer scoops you up and gently places you on his bed. He climbs in and pulls the covers over you both. He wipes your tear-stained cheeks with his sleeve and smiles at you while you take the time you need to calm down. 

“C’mon, babe say something…You’re killing me.” He says, waiting for you to speak with bated breath.

“I love you…” You say between staggered breaths. Your eyes are locked on his, somehow Lucifer blows through the many walls you’ve put up to prevent this and you are left bare and vulnerable. It is terrifying, being this helplessly in love. Bearing the fragments of your heart to the person who held it entirely.

“I love you too, dummy.” His smile is sweet like saccharine, his voice is smooth like silk. Your lips met his once more while your fingers card through his hair. He kept you as close as possible, and in the hush of the night amidst the whispered confessions, you and your king curled up together and fell asleep once again in each other's arms. No sovereign, demon or angel could pull you two apart even if they tried. 

[kykyonthemoon]

Rain On The Way Home

Zayne takes you home after an argument between the two of you.

ಇ. Zayne x Reader/MC

ಇ. Tags & warnings: since there's a bit spicy at the end I shall put 16+, MDNI here, fluff, short and sweet, kiss and make up, making out, argument, hurt/comfort, established relationship, character might be a bit ooc idk.

ಇ. Word count: ~1k9

ಇ. Based on a request by YNhi.

ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic

Your lips were pursed tightly. Hands placed on your thighs were clenched so tightly that you could feel the nails digging into your skin. You did your hardest to keep back the tears that threatened to fall, but failed. Warm drops dripped on the back of your hands, and you brushed them away as soon as you noticed a familiar figure approaching from afar.

Zayne opened the car door and sat in the driver's seat. He did not glance at you or say anything. You turned entirely to face the window, observing the soft drizzle fall outside. All you wanted to do was kick the car door open, run out into the rain and scream your lungs out.

The atmosphere between the two of you had never been this stuffy. You could have left alone, but because your body was injured and your emotions were all over the place, you lacked the strength to oppose Zayne's decision. So you let him do anything he wanted. Perhaps that was best for both.

Just a second ago, you fought to reject him and ended up sitting here with bitterness in your heart, allowing him to take you home, allowing him to control you like a puppet again.

The third time you had been hospitalized in one short month, you had also reached Zayne's limit.

People at the hospital claimed that when Dr. Zayne was upset, he became quite frightening. They thought he would explode and anyone unlucky enough to get in his way would suffer. On the contrary, Zayne's rage was like a blizzard on the horizon. You might believe it would not find you, but when it did, no matter where you hid, you would never be secure. 

And that day, for the first time ever, Doctor Zayne was seen losing his usual composure.

His lengthy and fast steps resembled racing through long and busy corridors. The hospital room door opened in such a way that it was about to come off its hinges. Zayne's face solidified. Without a word, he confiscated your medical documents and commanded everyone to go, in such a frightening manner that the nurse caring for you had to shiver from the cold after leaving.

Zayne looked at the documents and then at the wound on your shoulder. It was treated in time but remained painful. The injury had left you quite weak, but after nearly a day of medical care, what distressed you the most was Zayne's attitude.

Before he could say anything, you spoke up and explained:

“It was just an incident… It wasn't like I took the initiative to accept this mission. It's just that there were no other Hunters closer to the attack area than I was…”

“That's why, despite the fact that you hadn't completely recovered and were resting, you hurried to the scene, dismissing your prior injuries. Dismissing your doctor's orders?"

One corner of the file in Zayne's hand was so tight that it became wrinkled when he let go and threw it hard on the nearby table. He turned his back on you and looked out the window. One hand on his hip, the other hand to bury his face. He acted as if he was trying his best to retain the last bit of composure. 

"I'm fine." You said. "I honestly felt no discomfort. I have been able to move properly for a week now. Staying at home constantly is boring. I needed to stretch a little so I could get back to work quickly."

Zayne slowly turned around to look at you. He was still standing in the corner of the room, and you noticed the window glass behind him starting to freeze. 

“You were bored? If you feel bored, call your friends. If you feel bored, go shopping or hang out where you like to go. You were bored so you decided to jump right into a group of Wanderers?"

“Zayne…” You grimaced. “I don't like you this way… You… are acting so strange…”

“Do you think I'd like to see you lying here? Do you think I'd like to see you being carried to the hospital?"

"I'm sorry…" You murmured. You knew it was you to blame for not listening to him and instead running to the scene of the attack. But you were conscious of your own strength and wanted to fulfill the commitment you made when you decided to become a Hunter.

"You've said sorry for the third time this month." Zayne responded. His face was rigid, yet his fists were clasped firmly. "I've heard enough."

"Oh, just quit it!" You abruptly raised your voice. "I told you I didn't like you acting this way. As a Hunter, it's normal for me to get hurt!"

Zayne opened his eyes wide. He was astonished by your response. He stayed silent so you could pour out your feelings.

“I am capable of taking care of myself! I don't like being told what to eat or drink. I don't like being told what time I must  go to bed. Or being compelled to stay at home even though I have completely recovered and ready to battle! I'm not a child for you to order around, or tell me to do this and that!”

“You're saying, I'm too controlling over you?”

“I…” You halted. It seemed that was true. Even while you knew Zayne had good intentions and genuinely cared for you, you were unable to avoid feeling as if he was in charge of every part of your life, controlling every meal and sleep. 

"Understood."

Silence permeated the hospital room for a long moment. Zayne gazed at you as if he was considering something, then he started to pack up your clothes and belongings that remained in the room.

“What are you doing?” 

Zayne responded: “I don't want to be the one who controls you. You will be discharged from the hospital and free to do as you please.”

“What do you mean by that?” Free? It sounded like he did not care about you anymore. It sounded like he was going to give you your freedom back by not getting involved in anything related to you anymore.

“I will not force you to stay here. No one can do that. In roughly ten minutes, someone will come and take you to my car. I only ask you to do this for me once more.”

Having said that, Zayne turned and left. The door closed behind his broad back and you swore you were about to cry right from that moment.

The nurse came to inform you that Dr. Zayne had directly requested your discharge from the hospital. They let you go since your situation was not too serious and they believed Zayne would care for you discreetly at home. Zayne waited for you in the parking lot. He unlocked the door for you to enter first and returned to fetch a few more medical supplies before driving you home.  

All along the way, you kept wondering if you had made a big mistake. You were exceptionally disrespectful and became frustrated with Zayne for no reason. However, he did not give in to you as he always did. Confused, you simply wanted to lie down on your pleasant mattress at home and weep loudly. However, as the car came to a halt in front of your flat, Zayne refused to let you get out.

You turned to look at him. He looked exhausted and miserable. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, then your eyes met for a moment. You were the first to break that connection.

"I'm home now. Can I leave yet? Or do I still have to wait for your permission?"

"Just stay a little more." Zayne's deep voice rang out. He was considerably more relaxed now than he had been previously. "I'm sorry…"

That was the first time you had heard an apology from him. How strange! Usually, you were the one making trouble, and Zayne was the one who looked after you. You were the one who said sorry. Hearing those words coming out of his mouth made you feel so odd.

“I'm sorry if I become too controlling and that makes you feel uncomfortable.”

You were astonished for a second. You still wanted to weep, but your emotions had settled down considerably.

Zayne slipped his hand down from the steering wheel to seize yours and turned it over. He said:

“When I saw you almost unconscious from the poison, being carried into the hospital room, my heart seemed to stop beating. That is not something I want to see at all.”

Zayne's eyes were quite sorrowful. You subconsciously imagined that if you switched roles and the injured person was him, you definitely would not be able to remain calm in such a situation.

“I know you can take care of yourself,” Zayne continued. “But I still want to help you do that and protect you. In my own way.”

After he finished speaking, there was a moment of calmness. The street lights were illuminated, and the rain stopped pouring. You softly clutched his hand.

“I'm sorry too, because what I said was not true… I didn't mean to call you a dictator who controls this relationship…”

You smiled at him. The corners of Zayne's lips also loosened somewhat. He took your hand and tenderly pressed a kiss on.

“I'm really okay.” You added. “The doctor also said that the poison from the Wanderers had been purified. I don't feel too much pain anymore."

Zayne gave a slight nod. He understood this from the moment he read your record. That was why he boldly asked for you to be discharged from the hospital. Even though he was upset, your safety would come first in any case.

"You said you were fine?" Zayne inquired out of the blue. "How do you prove it then?"

You exhaled. After all, he still had reservations about your ability to care for yourself. You leaned in to offer him a passionate kiss. The resentment in your heart melted away in his warmth.

As your lips withdrew from Zayne's, he whispered:

"Good enough. However, in the future, if there is an issue between us, or if you are dissatisfied with something I do,... can I trust you to talk to me directly about it?"

You gave a modest nod. Zayne kissed you, deep. He caressed you but only so gently, as if afraid that you would melt into rain bubbles if he became too greedy. A while later, perhaps since your head was hazy from the injury, you had no clue how you ended up sitting on top of Zayne in the driver's seat, your lips locked with him while your hands constantly touching his flesh underneath the shirt. His delicate but searing kisses fell on your shoulder, around the bandaged area that had just been revealed to his sight as he pulled your shirt down. He kissed your wounds, new and old. He asked softly, would you feel pain if he touched them? And you replied that there was only pain if he did not do so.

Rain began pouring again; it might last all night long. How convenient, since he did not intend to let you get out of the car in such a condition.

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ Hells greatest Demon ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : You've had quite a rough day, so Alastor tries his best to cheer you up with some food and a broadcast.

Pairing : Alastor x Reader

Word count : 1305

Genre : Sweet Fluff

Warnings ➵ Hinting of cannibalism (Alastor)

a/n : Very self-indulged bcs Alastor is my comfort chara rn and I'm currently having a rather hard time.. Also I'm very very new to Hazbin Hotel, so I'm so sorry if smth doesn't match up or seems out of character! Decided to write this simply for comfort!♡

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

It was another hellish day, like always work was keeping you on your toes, Charlie had yet another plan and of course activity everyone at the hotel had to join in. Niffty was keeping you busy more than any other day, it was slowly getting to you. On top of that, your ex had to show up at your workplace today.

So with all this happening, you decided to get a bit of peace with a tea in the kitchen, but your mind was running a race, ending in simply resting your head on the kitchen table and closing your eyes for a second, trying to tune out Angels and Husks banter at the bar.

"Greetings my dear!" A cheerful, yet accompanied by a radio static sound, voice sounded behind you, you wanted to groan but swallowed it down again. It's not like you despised Alastor, quite the opposite, he was rather lovely and nice to you, shocking. But he sometimes loves to play into someone's despair and you're no exception. "Oh darling, you look rather doomed, haha, why don't you smile, you know you're never fully dressed without one!" Alastor walked past you, shrugging off his coat and laying it onto the back of one of the chairs, his sleeves being pushed up by his hands now. "I'm not really in the mood for smiling right now.." He took a quick glance at you, which you didn't notice of course, before he turned around again to the stove. His staff was now leaning against the kitchen cupboard, soft jazz music was now playing, which was calming you down a bit more.

"Mind sharing your thoughts darling? You look rather lost in them." It was weird for Alastor to care for others problems, yet he asked you, still his back turned to you, your eyes open yet again, following his movements. Getting ready to cook, probably his favorite, Jambalaya. "It's just been a really hard day, Niffty almost got me killed, my boss just dumped a week's extra load onto me which I shall finish in three days, and then on top of this all my stupid fucker of an ex decided to show up at my work." At the last words, just slightly, barely noticeable, the red-haired demon tensed up a bit. "That does seem like a rough day my dear, how about I make you some nice new tea and when I finish cooking you'll get the first plate." Turning to you now, his signature smile was planted on his face, you doubt you ever saw him without one, it can be unsettling at times, but mostly it was fine. Alastor grabbed your teacup, and set up a cattle with fresh water, as he scooped some tea into your cup, all the while starting to prepare to cook. It was calming, he was calming. Despite hearing the others all around the hotel, the jazz music, and the soft sounds of Alastor cooking, you could swear you also heard him hum softly to the music but you didn't dare mention it to him, were drowning everything out.

A hot steaming cup was swiftly set in front of you, the tea a different one now than you had before, but it still gave of a soothing and calming smell. With a thank you, you took a sip of the porcelain cup.

It was quiet in the kitchen for the time being, only the soft music and Alastors cooking, you two were merely enjoying the presence of the other, it was calming your mind and you finally felt your shoulders relaxing. Soon a plate was placed in front of you, it was Jambalaya, which you already ate countless times since staying at the hotel, Alastor loved to make it often. He himself now sitting down beside you at the table with a plate of his own, coat still on the chair, sleeves still pushed to his elbows.

"Thanks!" Thanking him for the plate, you immediately dig in, the taste was amazing like always, Alastor truly is a master at cooking. Soon the others joined in the kitchen, the kitchen was now booming with voices and laughter, but this time it didn't bother you, it was nice to eat all together. Laughing at some joke Angel just made, before talking with Charlie about some idea how to get new guests for the hotel. All the while the eyes of a certain demon were on you.

After the good meal, everyone together started cleaning their dishes, Nifty almost threw her fork at an insect on the floor, but Husker took the fork away before she could accidentally harm someone. In the end, it was just you and Alastor left, as you put away all the clean plates now, Alastor putting his coat back on, as he took his microphone staff.

"So how are you feeling dear? Better now?" Jumping a little bit at how close his voice suddenly was, turning your head just slightly, noticing how Alastor was now standing behind you and leaning over your shoulder. "Y-Yes! Thanks a lot again!" Stepping away from him, he simply watched you with his usual smile. "Splendid! How about you join me for my broadcast?" Eyes going wide now at his offer, he never allowed anyone to join him when he goes on air, hell, if someone were to disturb him they shall never be seen again. So to say you were stunned was an understatement.

"I would love to but.. are you sure?" You often listened to his broadcast when you had time, or sometimes put it on when you go to sleep, but to listen to him live? That would be amazing. "Well of course my dear, if I wasn't sure I wouldn't have offered! Well then! Let's get going!" A big smile was now stretched on his face, as he was leaving the kitchen in tow with you.

Arriving at his radio tower, which you never saw from the inside before, so you're actually a bit hyped to join him. Holding the door open for you like the gentleman he is, you enter and immediately start looking around. Walking over to the big windows, you could see the city below, from up here it looked so small, it was amazing. "Well my dear, do take a seat wherever you like, we're soon going on air." Looking back at Alastor with a smile now as you nod, taking a seat on the couch on the wall. Overall the room wasn't that big, his room, which you saw before a few times, was definitely bigger than this. Leaning against the wall a bit, you wait for Alastor to start his broadcast.

"Salutation hell, good to be back on the air today..." You were listening closely, he was playing some soft music in the background while talking. Slowly the exhaustion from today was creeping on you more with every minute that passed. And before you knew it, your consciousness slipped away intdreamlandnd.

Alastor kept the broadcast going, ending it after a good one or two hours, looking over at you, his dear darling. A smile wide on his face, as he puts everything he used away to his original place. Slow steps were made over to you, as he was shrugging his coat off and laying it over your body carefully. "Sleep well darling, hope you liked my broadcast." A strand was pushed behind your ear, that fell in front of your face.

Turning to the door now, the soft smile he wore for you, slowly turned into a sinister smile. "Now to that ex of yours.." Leaving the room, he closes the door behind him, and let's just say, he had a nice midnight snack this time and your ex to your surprise never showed up at your workplace again.

[freakingholland]

“The way to a gal’s heart is through her stomach.” - Jason Todd x fem!reader

A/N: Beep boop another Jason imagine, enjoy cuties <3

Warnings: not proofread, slightly suggestive content, swear words

Summary: Jason Todd is not only a superhero, he’s also a master of tomato soups. (fluff, domestic theme, slightly suggestive content)

Word count: 850 +

If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland

questions/requests/ideas here! - rules here

masterlist (needs a proper update)

my wattpad archive is here

my AO3 archive is here

-

“NOOO, no no no I GOT THIS, SIT DOWN MA’AM” Jay said, waving his hands dramatically as if he was trying to shoo you away from the kitchen.

“Don’t raise your voice at me fucker!” you said snorting with laughter.

“Yes, ma’am BUT SIT DOWN PLEASE-- I GOT THIS LOVE!” Jay tilted his head and waited for your reaction giving you an innocent look.

“PLEASE! I GOT THIS!”

“Okay! Okay I will…” you said with your hands up, slowly turning away from your boyfriend. You were standing in the kitchen. You just got back home from work and were about to start making dinner for the both of you. However, Jason had other plans and was making sure that you wouldn’t lift your finger.

“Soooo, what do we have on the menu chef Todd?” Jason smirked as he saw you folding your arms over your chest and leaning against the counter. He reached for an apron that was hanging near the stove.

His triceps rounded as he moved his hands behind his back to tie it on himself. They were pretty tightly squeezed by a short sleeve of his t-shirt. You were wondering whether he was purposefully flexing just to make you feel a certain way.

“I was thinking of a baked tomato soup. But-- I shall gladly fulfill my significant other’s…” he prolonged.

“-dining desires…as­-- it’s my personal wish to suffice her stomach.” His words made you shake your head with a growing smile. God. This guy’s eloquence is truly admirable. So is his charm. And his warmth despite the hardships that life had thrown at him.

“Sounds good.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

“Sweet. Tomato soup it is.”

“How was work?” he continued.

“Could have been better honestly.  Collins had a problem again and decided to throw a fit at the end of the shift. Called in a meeting last minute just to scream his ass of for 20 minutes-- AS IF we could change anything.”

“Monica was late to pick up her son from preschool because of the asshole.” You continued your rant.

“Yeah, Collins has a knack for ruining everyone’s day,” Jay said, shaking his head as he rinsed his hands.

“It’s like the guy feeds off stress.”

“Exactly! And the worst part is, it’s not just me. Everyone’s been feeling it. EVEN Monica, who’s usually so calm, was on the verge of tears today. It’s just not fair.”

“Did she call you?” He asked.

“She texted me when I was entering our building.”

He shook his head no sympathizing with your work story.

“Ugh, I hate that for her. And for you,” Jay said, turning to face you. “You don’t deserve to deal with that crap every day.”

“Thanks,” you replied with a tired smile. “It’s just frustrating. I mean, we’re all trying our best, but Collins seems to think yelling at us is some sort of solution.”

“Man, I don’t know what to say… asshole’s pissing me off.” He licked his lips.

“And how is Jared doing?” Jay continued wanting to change the topic.

“He’s alright as far as I know.” You bit your lower lip.

“You know what? I actually thought about inviting them for dinner some time.” You said shyly.

Jay, still focused on the cutting board, looked up, noticing the slight hesitation in your tone.

“Why are you shying away like that?” he asked, with curiosity and concern in his voice as he turned to face you, pausing his chopping.

“Well, I wanna know-- if you’d have the energy and will to have guests over on your night off…?”

Jay walked over to the sink to wash his hands. He stepped away from the counters to kiss the top of your head as you were mentally supporting him in his cooking, watching from the tall bar stool.

“We can totally think about it, don’t worry about my energy.”

“I—Well I-- just didn’t want to overwhelm you--, you know? I know how hard you’ve been working lately, and I didn’t want to add more to your plate.”

Jay smiled, his eyes full of that familiar warmth that always made you feel at ease.

“I get it, and I really appreciate you looking out for me like that.”

“But honestly-- having them over might be just what we need. A break from the usual, a chance to relax, catch up with some good friends, and just enjoy each other’s company. It could be a lot of fun.” He continued.

„Plus, it would be a great opportunity to show off my cooking skills.” He said with a cheeky smile plastered across his face.

“Yeeeaah right…”

“Yeah right what?” Jay looked over his shoulder, pretending to be offended.

“’Kay hear me out-- how about we make a deal? If I can whip up the best tomato soup you’ve ever had, you have to admit I’m the better cook.”

“And if it’s-- just, okay?” you teased, biting your lower lip playfully. Jay leaned in closer, his voice deepened.

“Then maybe I’ll have to find another way to prove I’m the best at… handling things.”

“I like your confidence, Todd.”

“And I—like you Y/L/N.”

-

Stay whelmed xx

Tori

[mingis-orangejuice]

Asking the L&Ds boys "What are we?" Part 1: Zayne

Summary: MC and her boy have been in a sort of situation-ship but MC wants to know why they haven't officially called her their girlfriend

a/n: This ended up being much longer than I thought so I'm making it into 4 parts (one for each boy) starting with Zayne. you can request who you want me to post next if you want

Genres/Warnings: angst, fluff, kinda slow burn

Word count: 635

Other parts: 2, 3, 4

You’re sitting in his office for your scheduled check-up. The bulk of the check-up was done and since you were his last patient that evening he asked you to wait for him to finish so he could drive you home. While he finished up some final notes on his computer you sat in the chair across from him mindlessly scrolling on social media while you waited. After a few minutes of silence, you hear a small knock on the door of the office.

“Come in” Zayne called as he looked up from his computer, you also turned around to see who it could be. A younger man in a lab coat similar to Zayne’s pokes his head in and starts talking

“Sorry to bother you Dr. Zayne… oh,” he stopped talking when he saw you sitting there looking up from your chair. “I didn’t realize your girlfriend was here, I’ll just ask you tomorrow, sorry again” Your heart skipped a beat at the word girlfriend.

The young doctor was about to leave when Zayne cut him off “It’s ok you’re already here now, you might as well just ask.

“Oh..uhh… ok” the young doctor awkwardly steps closer to Zaynes desk and hands him a few papers “Would you be able to sign these for me, since I’m shadowing you for my class I need you to sign them so I can get my class credit” 

“Oh he must be a student,” you thought

Zayne takes them from him and quickly looks through all of them, signs on the dotted line and promptly hands them back to the student. “You did very well these past few weeks, I was glad to have you as my apprentice. I hope to see you someday as a doctor here at Akso” Zayne’s voice sounded so sincere and sweet that even the student blushed a little.

“Thank you, sir, I’ll try my hardest” the student does a deep bow and quickly leaves the room

After he left Zayne went back to finishing up his work, but instead of going back to your doom scrolling you looked up at Zayne. “Why didn’t you correct him?”

Zayne looks up over his computer screen “Huh? correct him on what?” Zayne questioned

“Just now when that student called me your girlfriend, you didn’t correct him.” you scooted your chair closer to his desk and looked him in the eye trying to read his expression

“Why would I correct him? Was he wrong, are you not my girlfriend?” the feigned ignorance in his voice made you lose your words for a second. Once you regain your composure you stand up and look down at Zayne whose lips have now curled up into a slight smirk “no thats not… well you … uh... you’ve never called me that before” you sit back down and look away after that sudden burst of confidence.

Zayne chuckles lightly. “Naturally, I assumed you already were, since every night we have dinner together, I’m the one you call when you’ve had a rough day, we spend hours on the phone together talking about nothing and you stay at my house so often that you even have your own designated closet space and a toothbrush. ” 

You can still barely look at him “yeah but..”

“You’re right I should have corrected him,” he says with a mischievous grin

“What?!” you jump up from your seat worried that you accidentally messed up what you had with Zayne.

“Because at this point we’re basically married” he stands up, takes your hand and lightly kisses it. “But if you need to hear me say it I will” he looks up at your flustered expression, his smile gets even bigger and he looks you in the eye and says “Alright shall we get going, girlfriend?”

[rileyslibrary]

HR thought it’d be a good idea to handcuff you and Ghost together as a team-building exercise. It wasn’t. Or was it?

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,345 (approx. 5-6 min reading time)

Notes:

Fluff and the typical shenanigans

Warnings: language, suggestive content

For @ddiamondsdancing, who inspired me through her story

More of these.

———————————————————————

He secures one end of the handcuffs to your wrist and adjusts them.

“Is it okay?” He asks.

“It’s beautiful, Lieutenant, you shouldn’t have,” you reply and flick your wrist.

He makes a clicking sound with his tongue and rolls his eyes.

“I mean, does it hurt?”

He’s one of the most feared men on the base, yet he worries about hurting you. That’s… new.

You twist the handcuff, and he advises against fidgeting too much, asking you to let him know if it hurts so he can readjust it.

“No, it doesn’t hurt,” you finally say.

“Good,” he responds and clicks the other end of the handcuff to his wrist, “shall we get going?”

You nod.

Things have started changing around the base since HR got their hands on your superiors. They switched their focus away from resorting to punishment and toward more effective ways of communication.

That was all good and fun until Captain Price and the other higher-ups decided that this training shouldn’t be limited to them alone. They believed that everyone at the base could benefit from the same approach.

And here comes today, where you find yourself assigned to Ghost as a buddy with a pair of handcuffs—key not included—and instructed to spend the entire day helping each other. Or torment. Whichever comes first. Or more naturally.

He starts walking, but his strides are so broad that you get dragged along.

“Can you—” you struggle to find the words while keeping up, “can you chill for a second?”

He stops in his tracks, which causes you to bump into his back. You look at him, annoyed, and he stares down at you.

“You need to slow your pace, Lieutenant.”

“You need to pick up yours.”

“I can’t lengthen my strides,” you explain, “but you can shorten yours.”

He looks down at his boots briefly and lets out a sharp chuckle. You wonder what’s going through his mind. He turns his feet outward like a ballerina and starts taking little steps forward.

“Are you mocking me, Lieutenant?” you ask.

“Do you walk like that?” he asks back.

“No.”

“Then no, I’m not mocking you,” he replies, although you can hear the amusement in his voice. He stops and turns to face you.

“Go on,” he says, gesturing with his head for you to move to the front, “you take the lead, and I’ll adjust my walk.”

The rest of the day wasn’t easy, but it was manageable.

You went to the training room, where you had to do the same exercises simultaneously and adjust to each other’s pace to get work done, except in some cases where the Lieutenant wanted to put in more reps. So you sat on the ground, cross-legged, with your hand attached to his, and waited until he finished his push-ups.

“Ready to hit the showers with me, Lieutenant?” You tease and anticipate his reaction.

He stands up and helps you off the ground.

“From bonding to bondage...” He says, and you immediately get flustered. You weren’t expecting this kind of reaction, that’s for sure.

“Tempting offer, soldier,” he says in a flirtatious tone, “but first, you have to tell me...”

He pauses and seizes you, looking at you from head to toe. Your heart beats so fast in your chest that you can feel your pulse in your throat and head.

“...how are you going to remove your shirt?” He asks and shakes your handcuffed hands.

Good question. But you won’t let logic, or Ghost, take hold of you now.

“When there is a will, there is a way, sir,” you reply. “I can cut through it.”

“And what about putting another shirt on afterwards?” he adds, raising an eyebrow. “Will you be sewing one back on?”

You sigh and roll your eyes. “Always with the logistics, aren’t you?”

“Someone has to think ahead,” he explains, pulling you gently to keep moving, “just in case we have to explain to HR why we’re both handcuffed and naked.”

Touché.

You organised the warehouse for your next task, and the handcuffs forced you to communicate and collaborate more closely than ever before. Navigating through the cluttered aisles and shelves became a shared challenge. You relied on each other’s strengths to find the best way forward. Every movement had to be coordinated, and every decision was made together.

Even when you wanted to take a break and have a snack, he helped you by holding up your water bottle while you munched on your sandwich. It was as if the handcuffs became a synonym for unity and teamwork rather than restraint and suppression. You had to trust each other’s judgement and, by combining your resourcefulness, turn every obstacle into an opportunity.

Up until you had to pee.

“Can’t you hold it in?”

“Until the end of the day?” You ask, squeezing your legs together, “No way, Lt., sorry. I—we have to go now.”

“No wonder why,” he snaps and pulls you with him, “you drank the entire water bottle.”

“It was you who fed me the entire water bottle,” you snap back and follow him to the toilets. “You were squeezing too much water in my mouth—that’s why it went empty.”

You approach the bathroom stall and squeeze into one of the cubicles. Ghost looks away to allow you some privacy.

“Sir?” You ask, and he turns halfway.

“I need your hand; I mean my hand to unzip my pants.”

He lets out a long exhale and relaxes his arm, so you can use it as you wish. With his hand very close to your zip, you pull down your pants and squat.

But nothing’s coming out. You need more privacy, and unfortunately, under these circumstances, you had none. How didn’t HR think of that? The HR, of all the departments!

“You done?” He asks with his head facing the door.

“I haven’t started yet,” you explain. “I’m feeling a bit uncomfortable.”

“A couple of hours ago, you wanted to shower together, but now you’re uncomfortable peeing in my presence?”

“That’s different, Ghost; I think you know that.”

And, as if things weren’t awkward enough, someone knocks on your bathroom door. Ghost lifts his heels and peeks from the top of the door. He instinctively turns halfway to talk to you, but you kick him to look in front.

“It’s Janet from HR,” he jokingly tells you. “Want to say hi?”

“What the hell, Ghost?” You whisper, “Shut up.”

He chuckles and then turns to face her.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he apologises, “you’re going to have to find another loo; we’re trying to pee in this one.”

You glance at Ghost’s back, and your face flushes with embarrassment.

“We’re... experiencing a tiny issue, Janet,” you explain, “the handcuffs, you see...”

Before you can finish your explanation, Ghost interrupts you.

“It’s a team-building exercise, Janet!” He says in a threatening tone while peeking at Janet, who’s hurrying out of the bathroom, “We’re exploring new levels of trust and communication; ISN’T THAT WHAT YOU FUCKERS WANTED US TO DO?”

“GHOST!” You shout.

“What?” he asks, acting innocent. “They should have considered the consequences before implementing stupid shit.”

“Speaking of shit...”

“Don’t tell me you have to do that as well,” he says, throwing his head back. “We’re going to stay here forever.”

“No,” you reply, “I’m done—your feud with Janet helped me.”

With Ghost’s help, you zip up your pants, wash your hands—all four of them—and head to Price’s office, where you’re about to report how the team-building exercise went. In return, you will receive the key to your handcuffs.

You stand at the captain’s door with several other soldiers, handcuffed in pairs.

“I’ll miss you, Lt.,” you whisper, “my other half.”

He chuckles and shakes his head.

“No, really,” you continue, “who will I have now to unzip my pants when I want to pee and squeeze the fucking ocean in my mouth when I want water.”

“Don’t worry,” he replies, “I’m sure you’ll find another poor soul to torture.”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“No,” he says, taking your hand discreetly and interlocking your fingers in his, “not one bit.”

———————————————————————

[myladysapphire]

The Dragon and the Wolf (II)

You had been betrothed to Cregan stark at the start of the war. He was the noble and honourable stark that he was he supported your mother claim without restraint. So much so your mother saw it fit to betroth the two of you. So when disaster strikes and you and your younger brother are the only two survivors, you a shipped of north in your grief, leaving only Cregan to heal your wounds.

word count: 3,384

CW: MDI, 18+, SMUT, loss of viriginity, p in v, oral (f reciving), fluff, slight angst, depression, dependancy. not proofread!

Cregan Strak x Veleryon(strong)!reader

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

(smut between the dividers by @zaldritzosrose)

“I have to go to kings landing” you started as you walked into Cregan’s’ solar. It had been a week since the letter announcing your younger brother Viserys return, and you had not stopped asking to go.

“And you shall” Cregan spoke, looking up from his papers, “but after we are wed”

You were set to marry in a matter of days. You understood the need to be wed before leaving and yet waiting to see your brother after believing he was dead was pure torture.

You were desperate to see him, all you wanted was to hug him once more and tell him how sorry you were.

But duty came first.

The lords of the north were growing angsty with how long it was taking for you and Cregan to marry.

The alliance between your houses was sure to benefit the north, and until you were married, said agreements and benefits had yet to happen. And with the winter approaching the lords were growing antsy.

“of course,” you looked down, nervously playing with your fingers. “I am just eager to see my brothers and with the journey set to take a month-“

“I understand, I do, but my hands are tied” he interrupted, looking at you with understanding, “I promise, the day after our wedding we will leave”

“perhaps we could take Silverwing?” you asked hopeful, the journey would take around a day, if they rode fast, at the most three days.

“i- im not-“

“I promise its safe, and you have ridden Silverwing before.” He had, on your first visit to Winterfell. He had been hesitant then too, but you had somehow manged to drag him onto Silverwing and flown around the north for hours.

“aye, but this would be different” he said rubbing the back of his neck, “your brother has sent a letter…requesting me to become hand of the king”

you smiled “so we would be staying?”

“yes…this also means I will be having to take a large number of my household, and… though Sara shall act as the lady of Winterfell in my stead, once you are with child you will…have to return…without me, and take over the ruling of Winterfell until I am released as hand”

you were at a loss for words, this past moon you had felt lighter, the days of rotting in your bed, finding no reason to get up, having no energy to eat.

The empty hollowness you had felt for months on end has been filled, all with the help of Cregan. And now to find out that the second you got pregnant you would be shipped of and most likely never be able to return to your brothers.

You knew that there should always be a stark in Winterfell, and that their children would rule it one day, but you did not want to live in Winterfell without him.

You relied on him, in a near unhealthy way. You were often with him, in the library, or in his solar. You had already taken on the duties as Lady of Winterfell. You had liked having responsibilities, found you were good at it. But the main part of it that you liked, was that it was all with him. The friendship you once had had returned, though with trepidation as you had a first still felt empty.

You still felt the loss of your twin. Your other half. Without him you feared you would always feel incomplete, and yet Cregan had somehow manged to fill the void the death of your twin, of Luke and Joffrey.

You felt like you could so easily love him, but now.  Now a part of you resented putting this off for so long, only to know discover that you time with Cregan may be a few months or stolen moments every year.

Your mind went back to last week.

You had spent the day in each other’s company, sat in his solar as he answered letters, and you had read.

The comfort you had found with him was like no other, sitting in each other’s company. Not talking for hours and yet you felt content.

And now to learn that you may not feel the presence of him for moons on end, perhaps even years.

“I would like to stay with you, stay in kings landing” you spoke in determination, “I will not become the wife of an absent husband”

“I would not be-“

“you would sent me a thousand leagues away! So yes that makes you an absent husband!” you shook your head “I-I understand how important being hand is, how much Egg looks up to you, and I will not ask you to refuse the offer but…but I need you.” you said tearily, “without you I will…I will only find that hollowness I felt for moons, the sadness will return without you to…to comfort me, to hold me and cherish me. I cannot be alone, I may rely on you a little too much, but I cannot bear to…” you were crying now, you knew in some sense it was manipulating, but everything you had said was true. The sadness would return, he offered you the perfect reasons for you to find a purpose, a reason to wake up in the morning.

A part of you hated that you relied on another for a purpose, but all the things that once filled you with joy, with purpose, now filled you with sadness and hate.

And now, Cregan had been the thing you found some sense of joy in, and you were excited to marry him, but now part of you dreaded it, not wanting to part from him.

He stood up from his desk moving around to you and pulling you into a hug.

Cregan was a very affection person, always holding your hand or pulling you into a hug away from prying eyes.

“Cregan” you mumbled into his chest, as he stroked your hair.

“i will not send you away if you truly do not want to, but…I know the pain kings landing gives you and I do not want to ask you to spend years in the place of your torment” he said, pulling back from you slight to hold your face, “but… the babe must be born and raised here”

“I know, and I love that you do not wish for me to live in the place of such pain for me, but before… before the-the war…I loved the red keep and…I love my brothers enough to stay there” you mumbled, “If you promise not to stay the hand forever then I shall go to Winterfell if I fall pregnant during your time as hand, but i- I do not wish to be apart form you for too long”

He smiled as you said that, “how about we talk about this when the times comes, hmm?” you smiled, reaching up to place a small kiss on his cheek.

You nodded your head, stepping back from him. “i-I hope you know that I do…that I” you were stumbling over your words unsure of what to say to him. You had somehow over the course of the past moon, returned to your shy nervous self, blushing in his presence, and stumbling over your words.

“yes?” he asked smiling curiously.

“I… I feel a lot better lately, and it is thanks to you…I truly care for you and I think that I might…” you looked down nervously, unsure of if you should tell him your feelings.

“I can tell” he said before you could finish your sentence “you seem to much happier, the light in your eyes has returned and i…I want you to know that I feel the same” he blushed, “I look forward to marry you, and I hope you do also”

You nodded smiling, as you stepped back and you both continued going about your own duties, enjoying the solace of each others company.

The day of the wedding had finally come. The lords of the north had all gathered at Winterfell. The halls now full of bustling bodies, the maids running about nonstop to fulfil all their duties.

You and Cregan had been forced to spend the last day and night apart, with the north believing it to be bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other the day before the wedding.

You had instead spent the day with Sara.

“I had hoped my sisters would make it” you said sadly as she laced up your dress.

“we still have time, they may yet arrive” she said, trying to build your spirits.

Your grandsire Corlys had arrived the day before, fulfilling his long-term promise to walk you down the aisle.

You had always been close to your grandsire, with him always saying how similar to his wife you had looked.

“granddaughter” you heard him say as he had entered the room, smiling as he saw the sea horses embroidered on your dress.

“grandsire” you smiled in greeting, moving over to kiss his cheek. “do you have any news on Balea or Rhaena?” you asked hopeful.

He smiled slyly, before moving aside and allowing Balea and Rhaena to walk into the room.

“you’re here!” you had said in disbelief..

“of course, we wouldn’t miss your wedding” Baele spoke pulling you into a hug.

They had both been married themselves recently, Baela to Alyn, Corlys newly appointed heir, and Rhaena to Corwyn Corbray.

“are your husbands here?”

“yes, there both with Cregan I believe,” Rhaena said, moving to take over from Sara as she finished lacing up your dress.

“you look beautiful, sister” Balea said, smiling kindly. “Are you nervous?”

“should I be?” you asked nervously.

“do you care for him?”

You looked over at sara, as she gave you a teasing smile. She knew of your feelings for Cregan, and it seemed from that look alone your sisters to know knew.

“yes”

“then you have nothing to worry about”

“what of the…”you looked over at Corlys to see his looking slightly uncomfortable, “the night” you whispered.

“you have been betrothed for years and you have never…?”

“no!” the question shocked you, your mother had always been insistent on you waiting for marriage, saying she didn’t want you to make the same choice she had.

“never even kissed?” Sara asked shocked.

You shook you head.

“no! I’ve only ever kissed….” You wouldn’t say his name, it hurt to much. The betrayal you had felt, how you had almost given him everything. Though you were glad you never had with Aemond, for you loved Cregan. At least you think you do. “ahh” Balea almost flinched.

“it hurts the first time, but after…it can be very nice” Sara spoke, whispering.

“and Cregan is a good man, he likes you…perhaps even loves you. He will be gentle” she said, though grimacing slightly at talking about her brother in such a way.

Corlys coughed awkwardly, moving to interrupt their whispered conversation.  “it is almost time” he said, softly moving towards you.

“we better hurry up then” you said, motioning for Sara to start your hair.

Balea, Rhaena and sara had all left once you were fully ready. Leaving you and Corlsys alone.

“you are a vision” he said, as you took his arm. You started to walk through the halls of Winterfell.

you wore a dress as white as snow. With a full skirt and long flowy sleeves covered in a lace pattern.

You wore you hair down, bar tow braids at the top your head that joined at the back. Though your hair was hidden behind a lace veil, lace that matched your sleeves. Your face was covered, though it wouldn’t be for long, as you soon approached the gods woods.

“who comes before the old gods this day?” asked the northern lord officiating the wedding, as you entered the gods woods.

“y/n, of house Veleryon, She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?”

“Creagan, of house stark, lord of Winterfell and Warden of the north. Who gives her?”

“Corlsy, of house Veleryon, lord of the tides and of Driftmark, her grandsire.”

“princess Y/n, do you take this man?”

“I take this man”

“lord Cregan, do you take this woman”

“I take this woman”

“Then I pronounce you man and wife, before the old gods and the new”

You smiled at him, before reaching up and taking his lips in yours. The kiss was short and short, but caused you both to blush as cheers resounded throughout the wedding guests.

“I believe it is time for a feast!” Cregan announced as the lords and ladies cheered in response.

The feast was grand, though much different from the ones you had grown up with. It was loud and bawdy, with the lords all drunk and even singing northern tunes.

You and Cregan had kept to yourself, eating your food and talking between one another.

You had been enjoying yourself, enjoying the first few hours of marital bliss.

And then the bedding was called.

You had forgotten about the tradition.

The bride and groom escorted to their chamber. The groom by the woman, there clothes pulled of them, the bride escorted by the men, often groped and fully naked by the time they reached their chambers.

Feared courses through you as lord Bolton declared it time for a bedding.

“there will be no bedding!” Cregan boomed, as the men started to approach you.

The room seemed to flinch as the anger in his tone, “my wife will be touched by no one bar me! Anyone who lays a hand on her against her will, will have it cut off!”

You looked at him with shock, it was, grateful he was doing the right thing and saving you from a night of groping.

He reached his hand out to you as he guided you to your now shared chambers alone.

She had never been in Cregan’s chambers before, they were large. Though not as big as her chambers had been on Dragonstone. The room was mostly bare, having been mostly packed up for their journey tomorrow. It was warm, much warmer than her room in the tower had been. With a blazing fire, and dozens of blankets. The walls were filled with tapestries and the floor with rugs. Not a single wall or part of the floor was bare, allowing the room to be encased in more warmth.

“wife” Cregan spoke, capturing your attention. He moved towards you, his eyes heated as he gazed at you.

“Husband” you breathed back as he now stood before you.

He reached up to caress your face, his lips nearing yours. You shared a breath, before you both pounced.

Your lips modelled together in a heated, passionate kiss. He pushed you on the bed, your body bouncing from impact, he quickly moved over you, connecting your lips once more as he started to take of his and your clothes, never once breaking the kiss.

“gods” he moaned at the sight of your bare tits. He kissed your lips quickly before moving down to your breasts and roughly taking them into his mouth.

You moaned as he licked and sucked at your tits. He alternated between the two, savouring in your moans and whimpers.

Your gripped his hair, tugging softly at each flick of his tongue.

“you lick that?” he asked teasingly, as he let go of your nipple with a pop.

You nodded your head, whimpering slightly at him stopping.

He chuckled, “good” he said before, moving off the bed and resting on his knees “then you’ll love this” he said, as he slid the rest of your dress of you, and buried himself between your thighs.

He teasingly licked your folds, causing you to whimper.

Your gripped his hair, grinding your thighs into his face, trying to get him to lick you more.

He chuckled at your actions, before moving to grip your thighs and pull them towards his face. He buried his tongue inside of you, savouring your taste as he moved to lick your clit.

“Cregan!” you moaned as you pulled on his hair. 

The pleasure was nothing like you had experienced before. It was overwhelming, filling your senses as he continued to lick at your clit, and slowly bring his fingers to your entrance.

He groaned as his fingers entered your, relishing in the tightness of your cunt. Gods” he moaned against your clit.

He continued to lap at your slit, tasting you as if you were his last meal.

You felt your peak fast approaching, your hands gripping and tugging his hair harder, your legs wrapping around his head in away you were sure would choke him.

“Cregan!” you screamed as your peak finally hit you.

He continued his actions, riding out your peak before finally moving himself from between your thighs.

He wiped his mouth on the bed before diving back in to kiss you.

He slowly moved you to the centre of the bed, his cock positioning itself between your thigs.

“can i?” he breathed against your lips.

“yes.” You moaned as he entered you.

You felt a wave of discomfort as he stretched you out, a slight burn at the sheer size of his cock.

He slowly rocked his hips into yours, allowing you time to adjust, before you reached up and pulled him into another kiss, motioning him to speed up.

He started thrusting into you at a faster pace. Your legs wrapping around his hips and his pace became faster and faster.

He groaned into your neck, as your cunt tightened around him.

Your second peak fast approaching.

“I’m going to cum” he moaned into you, as your cunt fluttered around his cock, your second peak taking.

Your hands scratched his back as you peaked, before collapsing backwards, as he started building up to his own peak.

His thrusts became hard and fast as he finally reached his own peak, his seed filling you as he rode out his orgasm.

“gods” he moaned, collapsing on the bed, pulling you in and holding you to him.

he kissed your shoulder, stroking your hair as you both slipped off into sleep, though you both got little sleep that night.

The next day you were awoken to maids barging in and readying the remained of Cregan’s belongings. It was dawn, and you were both tired from the nights events.

 The maids had dressed you both quickly, pushing your breakfast on the table and urging you both to eat.

Cregan laughed at your bewildered face as they all rushed you both.

“we were meant to leave a dawn” he chuckled, as your maid tugged your hair, attempting to braid it, as you ate.

“then why weren’t we woken earlier?”

He sent you a look, showing exactly why they hadn’t.

“oh…must we leave so soon?” you said as you food was taken of the table before you had even finished.

“you insisted we did.”

“I-“ you looked at his smug face as your tea was taken out of your hand mid sip. “I take it back, I miss the bed!”

“you can rest in carriage” he said, as he reached for your hand.

You made your way to the courtyard, the household lined up to say their farewells, though most were accompanying you.

Balea, Rhaena, stood by the carriage, both looking as tired as you felt.

“it is far too early for this” Rhaena groaned as you approached the carriage.

Balea laughed “I cant imagine how you feel” she said, talking at you, “how much sleep did you get last night?” she teased.

You laughed “shut up!”

Sara approached you, her eyes teary, “I’ll miss you” she said pulling you into a hug.

“and I, you” you kissed her check, pulling back.

“we are leaving Winterfell in capable hands” she heard Cregan say, announcing Sara as his regent.

“don’t be gone for too long” she whispered “I was not made to rule the north” she joked, pulling away from you as you were all motioned to enter the carriage.  

Cregan walked up to the carriage window, pulling you into a kiss.

“I shall join you soon” he promised, before mounting his horse and leading the procession to kings landing.

next part

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[sha-n-dowbannedlol]

Miguel O'Hara — Love Sick

a/n: i've been slaving over genetics (and biochemistry) lately, and when i was scrolling on tiktok during my break i saw this one superbat imagine and thought of writing it with my favorite geneticist

cw: uh just fluff ig, miguel o'hara is not good with feelings, miguel o'hara is emotionally constipated

You haven't always had the best of luck in your life.

It wasn't so bad that it made you hit rock bottom, but you've had your fair share of moments where you ended up drawing the shortest end of the stick in the game we all call life.

And as you stare at Peter's hand balled to a fist, and yours with two of your fingers pointed out, his hand forming a rock and yours forming scissors, you quickly conclude that this is one of those moments.

Under normal circumstances, you wouldn't put losing to Peter in rock, paper, and scissors as top 5 of the worst moments of your life; however, this is different. To explain just how different it was, we need to go back to a few minutes ago, the reason why you and Peter had to play in the first place.

Not long ago, you received an alert from the Spider-Man 2099 himself asking for backup. You didn't bother to respond as Jess had already reassured you that she's got him—as it turns out, she, in fact, does not have him when she teleported back with an unconscious Miguel draped over her shoulder.

That, in itself, is already worrying enough. But what worried you more was Lyla's report on your boss' situation, relaying the information to Miguel's inner circle of most trusted Spider-people, including you.

"He's been hit with a love potion, an incredibly potent one at that," Lyla reports, her holographic form adjusting her heart glasses and typing away on her holographic computer. "It hasn't kicked in yet, but it will the moment he wakes up," Lyla adds before looking up from her computer, disappearing and reappearing in the middle of the huddled-up spiders

"And when he does, he'll be head-over-heels in love with the first person he sees," The AI informed them in a serious tone, before grinning like the mischievous rascal she is.

"So... Who will the lucky person be?"

It has been decided amongst your group that whoever loses shall be the unfortunate soul that needs to deal with Miguel's affection until Lyla and the other Spiders have concocted an antidote for everyone's admired boss.

And now, you stare back at your hand, then at Peter's, and back at your own hand again. Silence fills Miguel's spacious office as all eyes land on you, and you can feel your cheeks already starting to warm up.

"Can't we just blindfold him?" You spoke before anyone else could, looking over at the holographic AI, who seemed a bit too pleased with the results. "Or lock him in a room or something?"

"Don't be so barbaric," Peter spoke with amusement in his voice.

"Right. Besides, it can't be that bad!" Lyla spoke, her voice with a hint of something that you can't quite put your finger on. Mischievousness? Teasing? Hinting at something she knows but you don't? You didn't know for sure.

"I think Miguel would prefer being locked in a room than being lovesick for an entire day." You respond with a sigh as Peter practically drags you toward where Miguel is currently lying unconscious, and you have no other choice but to let him.

You were a person of your word. You can't possibly back out now just because you lost.

You tense slightly as your spider sense alerts you that Miguel is starting to wake up, feet glued to the floor when he starts to stir.

"You'll be fine," Jess tried to comfort you with a poorly hidden amused smile on her face, followed by Peter patting your back, and you didn't have to turn around to sense that he'd already whipped his phone out to record the whole scene.

The whole room was tense, or perhaps it was just you. Ice ran through your veins the more Miguel moved, and you could feel everyone's eyes on you as his hand moved to rub one eye before finally, finally.

His eyes flutter open.

Ruby red irises land on your form, and you can see a hint of your reflection from his intense gaze. The first person he saw as he awoke.

He stares at you in silence, gaze glued to yours, raking over your visibly tense form as you stare back at him. His face remains neutral, and you're already bracing yourself for his affection—may it be in the form of verbal affection or physical affection.

Miguel then leans forward to sit, before slowly standing up.

You watch as he takes steps toward you, his hand already rising and about to reach out. Your heart skips a few beats, trying to beat right out of your chest to meet his own halfway.

When he was closer to you, you tense up even more, ready to be pulled into his arms...

Except... he just slipped past you.

The hand he raised earlier ran through his hair, his eyes now on Jess.

"Mission report," Miguel demanded in his usual neutral, gruff tone as everyone looked at him with jaws dropped, all dumbfounded by his casualness.

The drowsiness seems to have left Miguel by then as he looks at everyone. He raises a brow in confusion as he notices everyone's stupified expressions and Peter's phone still pointed at him as if they were expecting something from him.

"What?" He asks, brow still raised.

"That's... This isn't how it's supposed to go!" Peter was the first to speak, begrudgingly putting his phone in his robe's pocket.

"Peter, I'm already not feeling well." Miguel responds, brow scrunched as he turns to face Peter, "I have no time for your antics, and that goes for you, too." He adds, pointing towards you on the last part.

Lyla's hologram hen shows up on Miguel's shoulder, bent over and examining Miguel's face, a hand on her chin as she hums. Her boss raises his brow again at this, trying to shoo her away, only for her to keep insisting.

"You were hit with a love potion, Miguel. Quite a potent one, too." Lyla informs the man who's looking at her with a skeptical look in his eyes as she continues, "I calculated its effects would include being down bad in love with the first person you see when you regain consciousness."

Miguel blinks at that, his eyes landing on you, and you recognize the flicker of understanding in his gaze as he does before looking back to Lyla and to the disappointed Peter and the less-visibly disappointed but still very much disappointed Jess.

"Well, it didn't work." Was his simple response, which caused a groan to resound from Peter and a shake of a head from Jess.

"Come on, not even a bit?" Peter asks, looking at Miguel with narrowed eyes. "Look at them, don't you feel like pulling them into your arms and kissing them until the sun sets?"

"First off, that's highly inappropriate," Miguel responds, his hand coming up to pinch his nose bridge in between his fingers to nurse a headache already starting to come up. He says your name exasperatedly, "Please don't mind him. You know how he is."

Before Peter can voice out the offense he took to Miguel's words, Jess speaks up with curiosity and a hint of suspicion in her voice.

"But how come it didn't work?" Jess asks, her brows furrowing in confusion, looking at Miguel, whose face remained neutral despite her questioning. "Lyla was so sure it affected you, and it affected you enough that you lost consciousness, and suddenly it just... didn't have an effect?"

Miguel clears his throat at that, subtly looking to Lyla to give Jess an explanation that would sate her curiosity and make her suspicions die down, but you suddenly spoke to his rescue.

"Perhaps it has something to do with his DNA?" You infer, humming softly to yourself, "His DNA is different from ours, and most of the time, he's immune to potions and poisons because he isn't human enough to be affected by them. Right?"

Your eyes meet Miguel's as you ask for confirmation, and your breath hitches at the sheer intensity of his gaze as he looks back at you. Still, this wasn't anything new. Miguel can be kind of intense and intimidating, even if he doesn't mean to.

"Pretty much." It was Lyla who confirmed your theory on behalf of Miguel, and before anyone could speak, Miguel swiftly interjected.

"Alright, the show's over." He spoke, looking over at everyone and individually giving instructions in order to get all of you off of his back.

"Jess, I need that report before the end of the day. Peter, weren't you supposed to go home early today? Look after your pregnant wife." Miguel spoke before turning to look at you, "And you, I have a mission for you."

One by one, the three of you leave his office, with you being the last one after he briefs you on the mission with Lyla's assistance. Miguel's eyes were glued to your back as you left, much to your obliviousness.

"It worked, didn't it?" Lyla coos suddenly, snapping Miguel out of his thoughts, making him jump slightly and snap his eyes from your figure and towards his holographic AI.

"What worked?" Miguel tried to feign innocence, looking away from Lyla as he turned toward his many screens.

"The Love Potion. It worked." Lyla continues to tease him, grinning at him knowingly as she lays on her stomach in the air, kicking her feet. "You're just so in love with them already that it didn't make a difference."

Miguel remained silent for a while at her teasing words, but the reddish tint blooming on his tan cheeks was enough of an answer to the AI already. Besides, she's the one subjected to Miguel's eyes, always following you around like a lost puppy whenever you're in the room.

"If you tell anyone, I'm shutting you down."

"No, you're not."

".....No, I'm not."