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tteokdoroki · 11 months

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Thinking about the freshly corrupted priest Gojo pumping his dick in the confession booth while the sinful vixen sitting in the other cabin went from confessing her sins of corrupting one of the local fathers and having him cream down her throat to giving him instructions on how to handle his throbbing cock lovingly

Go faster now, father- squeeze the tip just a little bit...yes that's a good boy...now spit on it, make a mess of yourself and give everyone a show, all their eyes are peering down and up on you.

And with that, good morning aali my love <3

-glasses anon

☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. confessional.

about. you confess your sins to father satoru, but with the lust bubbling between you both, things get a little carried away.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, sacrilege, religious imagery/references, guided masturbation, male masturbation, priest!gojo, fem!reader, wc: 1.6K.

what good is a priest who can’t follow his own teachings? one that succumbs to the slightest hint of femme fatale?

gojo thought himself a strong man. a good one. but once again, he’d found himself drinking from the devil’s cup offered up by a lost little angel who has strayed away from her path to light.

“and i really didn’t mean to. father toji— i mean fushiguro— seemed so stressed! like he needed a helping hand.” you whimper unevenly from your side of the confessional booth. guilt buzzes in satoru’s veins as he imagines you teary eyed and distraught on the other side of the wall. the mere idea of you crying sends pleasure and lustful hormones shooting through his bloodstream and right down to his erection — the tip flushing a shameful shade of bright red.

you continue relentlessly, each word a breathless whisper laid over the swell of your sinful lips.“s-so i offered some relief in the only way i know how. i let him use my body, let him use my throat. he said it was okay…” but i just feel so wrong for corrupting him like that under the watchful eye of the lord. is it wrong that i liked it, father ‘toru. having that man’s cum pour down my throat?”

you’ve strayed too far away from the light and you’re pulling him into the darkness with you.

“f-fuck.”

“is something wrong father toru, your voice sounds rather strained.” by the tone of your own, he can just tell that you have your head cocked to the side innocently. perhaps your lip is caught daringly between your teeth — eyes gleaming with mischief while you mask your amusement at the damage you’ve caused. the young priest’s dick throbs against his inner thigh, smearing white along his baby soft skin. satoru grabs at his girth, squeezing it as if to stave off the pleasure that he should be disgusted by.

clearing his throat, gojo internally curses as the words stick to its ridges — almost as if he doesn’t believe what comes out of his own mouth next. “i-i’m fine. have you prayed? i’m sure he would forgive you for your sins.”

“i’ve been on my knees every night.” you mumble through a pout that he can’t see — earning another hiss from the priest while his angry red cockhead starts to bleed more arousal, forming a dark stain that seep’s through the fabric of his black slacks. “if you don’t mind me asking… does it hurt, father toru?”

“does what hurt?” he exhales slowly, pearly white lashes fluttering against the apples of his cheeks. gojo, against his better judgments, pops the button of his pants to provide some relief to his aching cock. it doesn’t help at all.

“your cock. father fushiguro felt the same after i confessed what i’d done with father getou.”

shit. “yes… it does.”

“i maybe be able to help.” your voice somehow sounds closer — as if you’re in the booth with him. “can you touch it… touch yourself for me, please?”

when you ask him so sweetly, how can father satoru say no? he follows your instructions like a man charmed by a succubus from the deep depths of hell. his whole body shudders and his breath stutters when he finally takes his forth between his king and slender fingers, squeezing at the base as precum beads like a rare oyster’s pearl in the centre of his slit.

this is so wrong. “holy…holy shit,” but it already feels so good. gojo hisses, chest heaving as he instinctively bucks into his closed fist. it’s warm, sends shockwaves of pleasure down his spine to build in his pelvis while each vein that wraps prettily around his cock pulses with a new wave of lust laden blood. “what should i…?” he coughs shakily, hips slowly beginning to fuck upwards to chase the feeling of his palm. “what should i do now?”

“spit on it, father.” you command him gently, blessing him with your praise where the higher being above might condemn him. “get it nice and wet for me, like i would, okay? squeeze the tip when you do—“

father ‘toru easily follows your word as if it reads passages from the bible. carefully, he leans forward — letting hot, gooey trails of spit dribble over his blistering and bright cockchead. his entire body twitches at the new sensation, which is surprisingly cool in comparison to how hot his body feels. sweat tracks it’s way down his body, soiling his hood robes and freshly pressed clothes. it makes his pure white locks stick to his forehead, and gathers on his cupid’s bow and it really is all too much.

he feels like hell on earth.

there’s a dull thud that echoes from satoru’s side of the booth, his head knocking against the wooden walls when it falls back. in the same breath, a loud and borderline pornographic moan rips it’s way through satoru’s firm chest — it battles through his lips (caught between sets of perfect white teeth), and reverberates throughout the confessional booth, no doubt catching the attention of people passing by.

“ohmygod,” comes his pathetic whimper while he clenches around himself once again, throat bobbing as he swallows down his sinful sounds. “why does that feel so fucking good? g-god, please!”

satoru’s fall from grace makes a sick smile spread across your lips and you cock your head to the side. you can only imagine what he looks like if this is how he sounds, his clothes a sweaty mess, his eyes delirious and darkened with ungodly and immoral desire. all this while he begs for god, begs for forgiveness, begs for you.

“you’re doing so well for me, ‘toru. can you go a little faster for me? now that it’s nice and wet.” the way his name falls gently from your tongue is like thick honey running through satoru’s ears — you drag a veil of lust over his mind and once again he follows your orders. he pumps himself faster, harder, precum slinging over the edge of his knuckles as they turn as white as his hair from the grip he has on himself.

he can’t help but let his mind stray and wander off into damned territory — chasing the vision that his clouded mind creates for him. would your cunt feel as good as this? wrap around him as tightly? a stream of unfiltered and colourful curses pour from gojo’s mouth in a similar manner to the arousal from his mushroomed tip, dripping a searing hot trail down to his throbbing balls.

lewd squelches slip through the cracks of the confessional booth and filter right through to you. satoru has no idea how pleased you are to have ruined him, how much you’ve longed to hear him mewl and sigh from touching himself against the will of god. “you sound so messy, ‘toru,” you moan out just to mock him a little — listening out for his strained and strangled whines, gargling down the saliva that pools on his tongue. “think you can make an even bigger mess for me, father? one that everyone will see. those above….” you purr, the tail end of your words harmonising with gojo’s hiccups. “and those below.”

satoru is no better than a sinner come to spill their truths to him. sitting there with his painfully hard dick in his hands, fisting it to oblivion as opaque white stains his hands and his fingers and his knuckles. there’s so much of it, so much lust and precum and he hasn’t even reached his peak yet. everything is so fucking hot, his dick slick between his sticky thighs and all-too-tight robes.

“almost there, satoru. i need you to let go for me.”

your goading voice through the thick oak wall pushes satoru’s hips to canter up higher and higher. he wants to please you so bad that it hurts and makes him cry. he whispers your name into the buzzing air like it’s a prayer, chanting it over and over again until it becomes the only word he knows.

“fuck… i can’t—“ gojo sighs airily, his thighs shuddering as the knots in his stomach begin to unravel. “christ… I feel like ‘m gonna burst!” angelic blue eyes roll deep back into the man’s skull, disappearing from the world to hide from the atrocities he’s committed.

“then let go, let it all out. you’ve done so well.” you say sweetly over the sound of gojo languidly jacking himself off. one, two and three more pumps before he’s releasing thick white ropes of cum over his robe and his chest — seeping into his clothes.

gojo’s so fucking dizzy, cumming so hard that he sees bright lights and swears that he’s landed at the gates of heaven — though he’s sure his actions today would stop him from getting in. there’s a ringing in his ear as he comes back down but all of his limbs feel heavy, he’s too weak to move.

“f-father satoru?” you whisper innocently, as if your very voice didn’t lead the man to death. “i think our time is up.”

“yeah?” he mumbles in response, the words slipping around on his tongue. “i think… you did good today. you’ll have to come back again next week, to make another confession.”

if only he could see your sick little smile, one might have thought you were the devil. who knows what’ll happen if you’re alone together in a confined space. “if that’s what you need from me, father.” you giggle slyly. “see you next week.”

“see you next week.” gojo repeats.

and just like that, you’ve dragged the poor priest into the corrupted depths of hell.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #angelshubnetwork #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification #ʚ glasses anon anon’ ɞ

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ceoofglytchell · 1 month

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A Fall From Grace

Summary: When Gwayne Hightower traveled to King’s Landing to support his nephew the King in the war, he brought along his dear daughter, you. Soft-spoken, pious and well read; Dowager Queen Alicent took you under her wing immediately, but another pair of eyes never left your form either. From the moment of your arrival you had taken Aegon’s breath away and he was intent on getting closer to you even if it meant setting foot in the Sept again to join you for prayer.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Hightower!Cousin!Reader

Word count: 3982 words

Warnings: incest, infidelity (because Aegon is still married), obvious longing from both sides, he’s a little obsessed, fluff, making out, allusions to smut, Reader is described of having Hightower like features, religious guilt (kinda?), lots of praying, no mention of Y/N

Notes: I thank you all for reading my stuff 💛 As always, feedback and criticism is always appreciated.

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It had only been two days since you had been wandering through the endless, cold corridors of the Red Keep, and for exactly two days you had been all that King Aegon, second of his name, could think about. Every thought he had was about you, even though he was supposed to be in a meeting of the Small Council planning the attack on Rooks Rest that he had only recently learned about was happening.

Where were you? What were you doing? Who were you with? How were you feeling? Did you miss home? Were you betrothed?

Aegon turned the small white and green colored ball over and over in its holder on the council table, obviously not listening. Lord Tyland was talking about something, but his words didn't really reach his ears because he was once again thinking only of you. At this hour you would have to accompany his mother to the sept to pray to the gods or you went alone if you so wished. He himself was not a religious person, but he knew the customs and traditions of the Seven, as his mother had tried to teach him when he was a little boy, but she had failed miserably at that. As far as he knew, only his youngest brother Daeron actually believed in all that nonsense, but he had also grown up in Oldtown, where their mother and uncle came from so it was no surprise.

You too.

As far as he knew, your father- his uncle Gwayne Hightower- had fed you the religious customs and traditions of the Seven from a very early age, and you also had several Septas who raised you to be a perfect young lady, but you never took the vows that would make you one yourself. You were Gwayne's only daughter, so it was your duty to marry and give your future husband heirs to continue the bloodline, and, by the gods, Aegon swore that he would be the one.

You were not just beautiful, you were a real feast for the eyes. Your wavy auburn hair, your pale skin with your constantly rosy cheeks and your smile that always made his knees go weak were the most breathtaking things he had ever seen, which was why he could forgive you for your religious nonsense and still wanted to make you his in every imaginable way.

Your body was always covered in pretty gowns in the color of House Hightower, green, but all accents and jewelry you wore were gold, which made you a walking, living banner for his cause and no one would question where your loyalty laid. He was the king and he could have anything he wanted, and now he wanted you, his beloved cousin, whom he had only met two days ago.

It wasn't his fault that his heart had decided that way, it had just happened. If only he was still unmarried…

You were, but he wouldn't allow you to be sold to anyone like a broodmare or as a price to win another house over to his side. Even if your hand was given to Daeron, he would not approve, because the very thought of seeing you happy with someone else made him angry, but it also made him painfully aware of how much you had already done to him. Only two days... how would he feel once you had been here for a week, a month? He would probably go mad sooner or later if he couldn't have you.

He had to act, and quickly, because otherwise you would be gone and choose someone else instead of him.

Suddenly he slammed the table with the palm of his hand, which froze the other council members for a moment and the room was filled with silence for the first time in two hours.

"You bore me. You all bore me.”

Without waiting another second, Aegon stood up abruptly from the table, whereupon the other council members also stood up, since he was their king and this was yet another formal custom that he could not care less about, and he disappeared as quickly as he could from the small council. The meeting was over. For him, anyway, because as soon as the doors were closed, Larys Strong spoke again and the conversation continued without their most important member. A marriage alliance was also one of the topics that were discussed in his absence.

It was not long later that Aegon stood in front of the large entrance doors to the Sept, which he had all too fond memories of. Only two weeks ago, he had hidden under one of the altars, completely drunk, because he had not wanted the crown. He still did not want it, but it also gave him a new sense of purpose in life, and something worth fighting and living for. A lot had changed in the last two weeks, his view of his birthright, as well as a sudden deeper interest in you.

It was extremely embarrassing to admit that he hadn't even known you existed until Alicent had told him in passing. It was almost a shame how you always he had been hidden from him, albeit unintentionally.

Carefully, pulling the hood further over his face so that no one would see his silver hair and guess who he was, he entered the interior of the Sept and was immediately greeted with the smell of fire, incense and melting candle wax. As always, it was quite dark inside, the only light was the lit candles and the slight sunlight that fell through the windows above, so that it was not completely pitch black and one could still see the floor beneath one’s feet.

He let his gaze wander through the wide hall and over the individual statues of the Seven, to whom most people prayed, and there, in the distance, kneeling in front of the statue of the Mother, you were. The light from the many small candles and the light that fell through the window fell directly on your body which was wrapped in a dark green gown and in that moment Aegon decided that you must be an angel. There was no other explanation for this beautiful, divine being that he saw praying quietly a few meters in front of him.

The young king felt a lump forming in his throat and he slowly began to make his way towards you, even though he already knew that it would be difficult to keep his composure once you looked at him with your doe-like eyes.

He was not a religious man. He was not even a good man, which was why he felt guilty for corrupting someone as pure as you and dragging you into his own sinfulness, but it was necessary because part of him wanted to protect you, wanted to hold you in his arms, stroke your hair and share slow, deep kisses with you while shielding you from the horrors of war.

The gods would not forgive him, but perhaps you would.

While you were lost in prayer, you heard footsteps approaching from the side, but you did not let that distract you at first. After all, it could have been anyone; Septas, the Dowager Queen, or anyone from the common people, as was customary in Oldtown, where everyone prayed side by side, since every human - common or noble - was equal before the gods.

A small clearing of the throat from the side, however, made you open your eyes again and turn your head to the side, as you were curious as to who had come to you, but your eyes immediately widened in surprise when you looked into the face of your cousin Aegon, who had recently been crowned King of the Seven Kingdoms.

"Your Grace? To what do I own the honors?" you asked him in a gentle voice and you immediately started to stand up to curtsy to him, but he indicated to you with a quick gesture that this would not be necessary.

"Please, you may kneel. Forgive me, I did not know you were in the middle of a prayer."

A small smile played on your soft lips and you shook your head slightly, as if to tell him that he need not worry about this, which made his heart beat faster and he had to fight the urge to reach out and tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear that had come loose.

"No, please, it is fine, cousin. I was almost finished," you answered him in return and you folded your delicate hands again as if you wanted to finish your prayer, whatever it was - at least in your thoughts and not out loud.

Aegon hesitated, but when he let his amethyst colored eyes wander over your form for a brief moment and he noticed the way your dress hugged your figure, he knew there was no turning back for him. "May I join you?"

Your eyes lit up and your soft, kind smile widened into a truly happy one, whereupon you moved slightly to the side so that he could kneel on the cushions next to you. You had never thought of your cousin as pious, but there were always signs and wonders.

"How... how does this work now?" Aegon asked you carefully and in an uncertain voice, while he folded his hands together just like you, but unlike you, his gaze was not on the imposing statue of the deity on the altar in front of them, but he was looking at you alone. He just couldn't take his eyes off you and your otherworldly beauty.

A small giggle escaped you and thanks to the flickering golden candlelight he could see your cheeks turning a light shade of red, which made a feeling of pride well up in him, now that he knew he had an effect on you.

"You close your eyes and pray. In other words, you can tell the Seven anything and they will listen to you. You can also ask them anything and they will have an answer for you and show you the way.”

He was a sinner and he knew it. He could do nothing but watch your pink lips move as you calmly explained to him how prayer worked. How would it feel to kiss you? Would you kiss him back if he did it now, here in the middle of this sacred place? Did you want him as much as he wanted you?

“What do you tell them?” he asked you with a hint of curiosity in his deep voice as he continued to examine you as if you were the altar he was supposed to worship.

“I ask them for peace and that my father takes a safe journey and returns unharmed,” you told him honestly, a slight glimmer of sadness spreading in your eyes that made him want to reach for your hand to comfort you. Of course, he had never seen a war himself, but he also knew that not everyone returned from battles - especially not when fire-breathing dragons were involved.

"Well, then do not let me stop you."

You both clasped your hands together and closed your eyes to address your words to the gods and perhaps even make a request. But while you continued exactly where you had left off when you were startled by his footsteps, Aegon didn't know where to start. The last time he had prayed was many years ago and his mother had put the words in his mouth back then.

Your light breathing and the crackling candles finally inspired him and the young king actually managed to address the Seven, even though he didn't even really believe they existed, but the words just bubbled out of him - even if it was all just in his head and his thoughts would probably not be heard by anyone. He wished he could tell you all of this directly...

Your eyes fluttered open once more about a minute later and you were surprised to see, as you looked to the man to your right, that he still seemed to be deep in prayer. Whether he was actually speaking to the gods or just thinking about his day, you took the time to look at him more closely. Because he was sitting so close to you, you could see all the little details on his admittedly very handsome face. From the way his long eyelashes gently touched his cheek, to the small moles on his pale skin, the slight curve of his nose, his full lips and the way his shoulder-length, slightly wavy hair framed his face.

He was beautiful...

You condemned yourself for thinking that, especially when kneeling in front of the statue of the Mother, but you couldn't help yourself. Aegon Targaryen was a beautiful man and no one should deny that fact. After all, the Targaryens were closer to gods than to men, although you were never sure if you should believe that old saying, but as you looked at him now, you thought there must be something to it, because why else would your heart suddenly beat faster whenever he was near and you could feel his intent gaze on you, or that a warmth spread through your body as if the Seven had finally heard your prayers. Maybe he was the one you were waiting for?

After what felt like an eternity, in which Aegon poured out his heart in his mind, although no one was listening, he blinked his amethyst eyes again and immediately froze when he looked at you and you were already looking right back at him with an expression on your face that he had never seen from you before.

You quickly turned your head away and looked down at your lap, while a deep flush took root on your soft cheeks. He had actually managed to make you blush - in the middle of the Sept! If he could do that, he wondered how much else you would let him do that would most likely tarnish your purity and innocence. He was very excited to find out.

"What did you pray for?" you asked him in a quiet tone and with the kind voice that he knew from you, but you still didn't look up at him again. You probably wanted to hide your blush from him, but it was very obvious.

Aegon could go two ways here. First, he could tell you that he too had prayed for a quick end to the war and that he would not lose any more loved ones, or second, he could tell you about his thoughts about you, which he couldn't bring himself to do. No, a lie had to serve as an answer again for today.

"For strength, guidance, and a safe return," he replied at last, which was partly true. Everyone saw him as weak, his own family, the realm, and most of all his traitorous half-sister, and he could not and would not allow that. His council did not listen to him, nor even ask for any suggestions he could make, but they made their own plans behind his back. Criston and Aemond had also betrayed his trust and plotted behind his back and without his consent decided to march to Rook's Rest instead of Harrenhal, which was the really important prize in this war that Daemon of all people now owned, even though the Lord of the old castle was his very own Master of Whisperers. Why put him as king and then ignore him still and treat him like a stupid child? He had not asked for any of this.

"A... a safe return? Do you mean Ser Criston? I heard he is an old friend of the family.”

The king hesitated. For a moment he didn't know how to answer you, knowing you knew what he meant but didn't want to believe it. He would fly into battle personally to support the Lord Commander of his Kingsguard who also served as his Hand. He would not be seen as weak, ever again.

“I will fly to Rooks Rest to support Criston and your father's army. Mayhaps I can guarantee that we do not lose too many men.”

Your expression in this very moment reminded him of a little doe - innocent, heartbreaking and full of worry. You quickly shook your head, causing a lock of your auburn hair, which reminded him of his mother's locks, to fall over the left side of your face. It seemed like you couldn't believe it, like you didn't want him to go and put himself in danger under any circumstances.

"But you are the king?" you questioned uncertainly, as if he was jesting, because you couldn't imagine that he was being serious. He was not a warrior. His younger brother, Aemond, should go, he was talented with the sword and his dragon was much bigger and far more experienced than Sunfyre.

"And that is exactly why I must go, my dear." Aegon leaned one shoulder against the cold stone of the altar so that he could look at you better while you would have this difficult conversation with each other.

"No, no, you cannot. You must not do that," you contradicted him, the expression on your pretty face becoming not just worried, but almost panicked. He almost had the illusion that you might actually care about him. That thought was just too good to be true...

"I declared this war and I will fight in it too."

Without being able to hold back any longer, you put one of your delicate hands on his arm and grabbed the soft, rich fabric of his green doublet, which, like your dress, was decorated with fine gold ornaments, because you didn't want to let him go. He was barely older than you and the thought of him personally flying to battle, much like your father - who did not have a dragon but still-, was one you couldn't bear. He was one of the few people you truly trusted and if, gods forbid, you were to lose your father, you couldn't also lose your cousin who had stolen your heart since day one.

"Aegon, please... do not do this."

Your hand on his arm, your soft voice and the pleading look in your eyes were simply too much for him. He couldn't hold back any longer. Without a warning, he leaned in and pressed his lips firmly against yours, making you gasp in shock into his mouth.

For a moment you didn't know what to do, but your body made the decision for you. Your eyes fluttered shut and you began to kiss him back gently and hesitantly, even though the rational part of you screamed at you that it was a sin, that he was your cousin, that you weren't betrothed to each other, that he was already married and that you were in the middle of the Sept, but you didn't even hear those voices anymore because you were already lost in the kiss.

Surrounded by the soft crackling of the candles and pleasant silence, Aegon lost himself completely in you. He kissed you as if you were the air he needed to breathe, as if you were everything that still bound him to this world and he couldn't stop, already addicted to your sweet taste.

The tip of his tongue grazed over the seam of your lips, begging for entry, and you, always obedient and docile, opened your mouth and let him in, whereupon a soft moan escaped you. That sweet little sound alone set his whole body on fire and he abruptly pushed your back against the altar with him caging you against the stone.

Your arms wandered around his neck, your thin fingers burying themselves in his silver mane, while his hands began to wander over your body and he explored your soft, feminine curves bit by bit, but he didn't really take much time, as he was loosing himself more and more in the proximity of you and the intimate kisses you shared.

His fingers started to rip open the laces of your bodice at your back, feeling the urge to see all of you, to feel your beautiful, milky skin under his palms while he let his lips wander over every inch of your perfect body, but before that could happen you broke the kiss, gasping for air.

"We...we can’t. Not here."

"Please, I need you. I need you so much, let me have you,” Aegon begged as he began to place some hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck, causing your grip on his hair to tighten, which only served to increase the fire that burned inside him for you.

“I want you, Aegon. I want you more than anything, but not here, don’t do this to me. We could be seen.”

A long sigh escaped him and he buried his face in your cleavage, even though he knew you were right. It would be a scandal if he was seen taking your innocence on the altar of the Mother. His chambers, however, were more than available and wonderfully secluded for such depravity. But not now.

“You’re right, darling. You’re right,” he whispered, breathing heavily, as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist to keep you as close to him as possible, because he didn’t know if he would ever have the chance to hold you in his arms again.

“We could go to my chambers? I am sure you would find my bed extremely... comfortable, Your Grace."

Aegon chuckled at your sweet attempt at being sensual, but it worked. He could feel his body instinctively snuggling closer to yours and he noticed how wonderfully you fit him, but he slowly began to lean back so he could look into your glistening eyes once again.

"I would love to, very much, but I must go."

The hope and desire slowly faded from your eyes and a look of confusion spread across your face for a split second before realization dawned on you and you realized why he had come to the Sept that day specifically.

"You are flying to Rook Rest today..."

Before you could object, the king pressed his lips against yours again and cradled your face in his hands to reassure you that it was fine and that he had to do this.

"I will not be seen as weak. I will come back to you, love. I will come back and then I will love you as you deserve, yes?" he murmured and leaned his forehead carefully against yours, his silver hair a contrast to the auburn of your family, which was also his.

"Promise me. Here, in front of the eyes of the gods."

"I promise."

As gently as he could, as if you were made of porcelain, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and let his eyes wander over you to memorize every little detail before Aegon then tore himself away from you with a heavy heart to get the conqueror's armor put on as quickly as possible back in the castle, to then mount Sunfyre and go to war.

He wanted to stay with you, by the gods, he wanted that more than anything else, but he had to do this. He had to prove to everyone that he could be the king they had wanted to mold him into.

You, on the other hand, felt tears welling up in your eyes as you watched him leave, because something inside you screamed that this kiss would be the last truly wonderful memory you shared with him.

And, unfortunately, you were soon proven to have been right.

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#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x female reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x reader #tom glynn carney

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thehighladywrites · 9 months

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“JUST ONE MORE, I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT.”

⋆˙⟡ pairing: rhysand x reader, inner circle makes an appearance , madja makes an appearance

⋆˙⟡ summary: feeling ready to finally have kids, you tell rhys who is over the moon. madja gives you a special tea to help boost ovulation. how does that turn out for you?

⋆˙⟡ warnings: a fuckton of smut, fluff, rhys cries, so does reader, breeding, aphrodisiacs ( i think ), boosting tea, pregnancy, pregnancy smut ig, Big dick daddy construction worker Rhys😍😍, protective rhys like super protective, obsession and possession. Rhys develops a new obsession with reader🤷🏽‍♀️

⋆˙⟡ amara’s note: i need a break. holy fuck. also, can i go next🧎🏽‍♀️ Plus english isn’t my first language so if there’s any errors or mistakes, i’m sorry😭💗

“is that what you’ll be teaching our children, darling? To be snappy when someone asks you something?”

Rhysand took great pleasure in provoking a reaction from you. Your day had been rough, with even the slightest annoyances causing you to snap at him. From criticizing his breakfast chewing to berating his small handwriting in his reports, your frustration peaked when rhys playfully teased, leading you to unleash a stream of unpleasant words.

And now, he was dangerously close to you kicking him out of your bedroom. You stood there, making the bed with him on the other side as you tucked in the sheets on either side.

“Fuck off, Rhys. I'm teaching my kids that their father holds the title for being the most annoying ass in Prythian's history. They'll also be well-informed about your love for relentless teasing. I'll caution them to steer clear, as mommy doesn't want them influenced by your habit of being an annoying provocateur,” you flashed him a fake smile before tugging the sheets from his hands.

His laughter resonated through the room as he threw his head back, closing the distance with a confident step. Looking you up and down, he met you face to face, his eyes filled with mirth and a touch of affection.

“Let's pray to the Mother that they don't inherit your bratty behavior,” he teased, flicking your nose, enjoying your reaction.

“And yes, before you can come up with some crude insult, you're without a doubt the most pouty, bratty, headstrong person I've ever encountered.” His smile held a mix of playfulness and genuine fondness.

“I should feel insulted, but strangely, I don't,” you admitted with a smile. Playfully ushering him back to his side of the bed, you continued fixing the sheets, ready to settle in for the night.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

Lying awake, Rhys's words echoed in your mind. The thought of having children together stirred a mix of excitement and doubt. The responsibilities of being the high lord and high lady of the Night Court loomed large, and the question of balancing it with parenthood lingered. Despite the uncertainties, a deep yearning surfaced – a want to put more focus on kids and maybe ease of the work load.

Unable to sleep, you chose to scoot closer to your mate as you put your head on his pillow, running your hand through his hair and finding comfort in the rhythm of his shallow breathing.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

The bell chimed as you entered Madja's clinic, finding it empty. You weren't supposed to be there; you had told Rhys you weren't feeling well to avoid going to the Hewn City with him. He grew concerned and insisted on staying, but after some persuasion, he reluctantly left. Now, you had the perfect opportunity to visit the healer in secret.

“Hello? Madja, are you here?”Your voice echoed in the empty clinic. After a long pause, you turned to leave, but just as you did, Madja opened a door, wearing gloves and a mask, looking confused.

“Y/n? What are you doing here? Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” You all loved Madja deeply as she was like a second mother to everyone. She expressed concern, worry evident in her eyes. You reassured her, mentioning that nothing was wrong. She nodded, explaining she had a patient and would be done in a few minutes. Madja suggested making yourself some tea and taking a seat while you waited.

After a while, Madja finished with her patient and led you into her office. She took her place behind the big table, and you sat in front of her, ready for whatever conversation lay ahead.

“What can I help you with today?”

Taking a deep breath, you opened up about your desires. “I wish to get pregnant, and I wanted to know if there's anything to know beforehand. My grandmother was Illyrian, so I think I could carry the babe, but is there any more information I should know about?”

Your words hung in the air, waiting for Madja's guidance.

A warm smile graced Madja's face as she took your hand.

“Congratulations, I'm so happy for you. Fae pregnancies are rare, and it might take a few years of trying before you see any results. Don't get discouraged; it's normal, and it generally takes a few decades for couples to be blessed with a babe. But let me check your bones to see if you're ideal for pregnancy.” Madja's hands emitted a golden glow as she held yours, assuring you that your bones were indeed a match and that you would be able to carry your and Rhysand's children.

You thanked her with a hug and stood up, ready to leave to tell Rhysand that you were ready. But you were still nervous about how long it would take. Decades seemed like a long time and you just hoped you wouldn’t get disappointed in yourself.

Madja seemed to sense your sprialing thoughts and directed you to the medicine room. She handed you a packet of some sort or herb or leaf. You looked at her with confusion asking her what this was.

Madja explained, “It's a special tea made to boost ovulation. Both of you should drink it before trying, but I have to warn you, it does have side effects. The tea activates a primal need, making you both feel like the first day of the mating bond. There will be possession and jealousy, and a strong chance of fighting unwanted guests. Some patients of mine have almost killed someone because their mates were looked at too long. Males typically get very possessive during conception so don’t be surprised if he snaps at someone who’s too close. So, again, only do this when you're alone.”

The gravity of her words settled in as she outlined the potential intensity of the tea. You nod thanking her again before winnowing back to the house.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

Rhysand was pissed off and tired as fuck. The entire night was a mess, thanks to the annoying council. He toyed with the idea of going back and killing them all but thought checking on you might be a better move. Exhaustion weighed heavy on him, and irritation etched deep lines on his face.

Rhysand walked into the house, absentmindedly unbuttoning his shirt until he halted in his tracks as he passed the kitchen. Something caught his attention, and he turned, curious about what was happening.

Rhysand was taken aback by what he saw. There you were, clad in tank top and shorts, preparing food in the middle of the night. He thought you were seriously unwell, given that you couldn't get out of bed earlier. Worried, he approached,

“Love, what are you doing up? Please, let me take you back to bed. I'll finish it up and bring it to you, okay?”

You warmly smiled at his concern but shook your head. “I'm fine, baby. I'm not sick. I'll explain everything. Just sit down at the table, and I'll be there in a minute.”

He raised his brow and you with amusement,

“So, you just didn’t want to go to the meeting? You should have told me; we could have skipped together. They were driving me crazy today. Kier wanted a higher position, Lord Orlon wanted more money, and everyone just wanted more and more and more.” His frustration with the incessant demands from the council echoed in his words.

You couldn’t help feeling guilty at the weariness in his eyes, you pouted and stepped closer, standing between his legs. Gently, you brought his head to your chest, cradling and kissing it. His arms wrapped around your middle immediately as you cooed comforting words, offering solace in the warmth of your embrace while stroking his hair gently.

“Aww, I'm so sorry, honey. I promise I'll never let you go alone. What can I do to cheer you up?”

He raised his head, mischief in his eyes, and his hands roamed up your tank top, grazing your waist and the sides of your boobs.

“I can think of something that'll earn you my forgiveness.” His playful tone sparked heat in you and you almost lost focus as you entertained the thought of Rhys’s offer. But you shook your head and smirked at him.

“Did you forget I had something to tell you? You’re quite insatiable, you know?”

He slumped his head on your chest, planting a kiss on the covered area as he warmly chuckled. Drawing you closer, he settled you in his lap, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. Rhys gazed up at you with enchanting deep violet eyes, their subtle twinkle a sight you adored.

Inhaling deeply, you contemplated ripping off the bandaid. It should be fine, right? He's always discussed future children, their names, rules for them, etc. Yet, despite everything, a touch of nerves crept in.

Rhys, sensing your hesitation, securely gripped your waist, assuring you that you could share anything with him.

“Rhys, sweetheart, I'm ready to officially try for children. Are you on board? I know you've talked about wanting kids, but is it still something you still want-”

Rhysand embraced you tenderly, tears of joy gliding down his cheeks. He buried his tear-streaked face in the warmth of your neck, softly murmuring his heartfelt thanks, each word carrying a sweetness only you could inspire.

His tears triggered an emotional response in you, prompting happy tears to well up as you smiled tenderly at him.

“It would be my highest honor to have children with you, my love.”

Rhys kissed you, chuckling, drawing you closer and peppering tiny kisses all over your face, eliciting joyful laughter from you.

“While you were away, I chatted with Madja, and she shared some tips about conceiving. She mentioned it might take a bit, so she's advising not to worry if it doesn't happen right away. She even gave me this special tea that's supposed to boost ovulation and help speed up the process. What do you say we give it a shot tomorrow or tonight?”

Rhys grinned mischievously, “Well, it's a bit surprising I haven’t already gotten you pregnant, but I guess Madja's tea might just be the secret ingredient we need.”

“I agree, Mr. Cocky, your charms might need a backup plan.” Your smile wavered as he got closer to your neck, and it completely faltered when he gently blew air on your neck before giving a playful bite.

You trembled, grabbing rhys’s shoulders to steady yourself as he kept nipping lower and lower. He palmed your tits through your thin tank, pulling and pinching on your nipples, marvelling at your scrunched up face of pleasure.

His finger moved to trail down the arch of your back while he unwrapped your legs from around his waist.

“Let's free you from these,” he murmured, gently hooking your shorts by the elastic and sliding them down to your thighs. Granting you a brief moment, he allowed you space to stand and shimmy them down to your feet, casting them aside with a tender ease.

Your confirmation to having kids flipped a switch in his brain. Numerous times had you stopped by nurseries to admire the cute babies, helped lost children find their mothers in the town square, babysat for your friends that had kids. Rhysand’s mind was filled with you carrying your child on your hip, you and him sitting down teaching them everything they needed to learn.

The mere thought of getting you full of his children, your heirs and the fact that you would carry your children, made him impossibly hard. You belonged to him, and soon, the world would see the evidence in your growing belly. It was his way of making sure everyone knew he had claimed you for good, in the most intimate and lasting manner possible.

Rhysand gazed up at you, his eyes veiled by thick lashes, filled with a darkened desire. His pupils dilated, larger than you'd ever seen, revealing the intensity of the lust that consumed him.

“I’m going to get you nice and knocked up by the end of the month, fuck what Madja said. I’m putting a baby in you soon enough, don’t worry about a thing. Just lay down and let me work on it, what do you say, sweetheart?”

His raspy, desperate voice sent cold shivers down your spine and arm. You mindlessly nod, begging for him to start.

“ Please, baby… make me a mother…” you ask so sweetly and nicely, rhys could never say no to you.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

Throughout that night, the following morning, and the entire subsequent day, Rhysand kept you awake, leaving little room for sleep. In the span of those days, you only paused for food, as he fucked you to the edge of insanity. Perhaps you should have considered that you'd chosen the most powerful man in history as your baby daddy— of course he’d have no trouble fulfilling his task with relentless success.

Rhys's eyes had darkened with a singular focus – getting you pregnant. He worshipped your body, treating you like a deity with every touch, as if you were the subject of his devoted prayers.

He had stopped for maybe half an hour to research the most ideal positions for baby making and had put you in them atleast twice, much to your exhaustion and pleasure.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

Reluctantly, you both knew you couldn't remain secluded from your responsibilities forever. The rulers of the court could only be inaccessible for a limited time, forcing you to eventually confront the outside world.

“Baby, we need to go soon, remember?” You found yourself trapped between his sturdy arms, lying beneath him on the soft bed with your legs wrapped around his middle. His kisses on your neck and grew more intense, leaving behind a trail of increasingly visible bruises.

Expressing disapproval with a sound, he playfully nipped at a sensitive spot on your neck, eliciting a mix of laughter and a gasp from you simultaneously.

Rhysand absolutely hated the idea of leaving the haven of warmth and love you two had created. He cherished the solitude you shared, not wanting to face the world's challenges.

All he wanted was to stay wrapped up in the tender embrace of his mate, savoring the moments of closeness and hoping for a future filled with just the two of you.

“Darling, I'd ditch the whole Night Court for a bit more of your love. The outside world's a drag compared to your warmth. What do you say we skip the ruling and responsabilities and keep our own little haven, just the two of us?”

Summoning the will to decline felt nearly impossible; you genuinely, sooo badly, really didn't want to leave the room until everything was done. Explaining your perspective to him, you made a deal that if you both tackled just dinner first, you'd be all his afterward. With reluctance, he got up, the two of you quickly freshened up, taking a hot shower and got dressed for dinner with your friends.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

Making your way to the dining room, you were met by Cassian with a teasing grin,

“Well, well, well. Look who decided to rejoin the land of the living. I was starting to think you'd built a permanent nest in there. Ready for the real world or still basking in the afterglow?”

Catching a glimpse of Rhysand's impassive expression, it was clear he was beyond unamused as his eyes zeroed in on Cassian. You knew him well enough to sense that Cassian's continued teasing might push him to snap, especially considering his reluctance to be outside with the others now that he was trying to put a baby on you.

“Cass, I wouldn’t. Let's just enjoy the meal,” you said, clapping your hands with an exaggerated smile. Taking Rhysand by the hand, you guided him to the table, hoping to diffuse any tension and shift the focus to the meal.

You stuck to him like glue, even following him when he stood to get another bottle of wine. Sitting on another chair was out of the question. Instead, you made yourself comfortable in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. You purred at his warmth and safety, wondering why the hell you even accepted this dinner in the first place. You'd much rather stay under warm covers in your bed with him by your side.

In these past few days, Rhysand had become remarkably possessive aswell. Normally unfazed by casual gestures from friends like hugs or pats on the shoulder, he surprised himself. When you and Azriel reached for the salt at the same time, Rhysand instinctively pulled you back, narrowing his eyes at Az as if marking his territory.

Azriel, ever perceptive, observed the tension, smiled to himself and wisely chose not to escalate the situation. He sensed a new energy surrounding you both, noticing how much you clung to each other. He nodded toward the salt, indicating you should take it first, showing he had the sense not to get in the middle of whatever was transpiring between you and Rhysand. It was something Cassian would usually dive headfirst into. The guy had a knack for finding trouble, and Azriel clearly wanted no part in it.

The dinner proceeded with everyone staying clear from you and Rhys. Usually, you'd playfully scold him for being overly possessive, telling him to ease up on the overbearing bat act. However, you relished in his attention and protective demeanor. Madja had told you this would happen but you didn’t realize it would apply to your family.

Right, Madja. You had almost forgotten about the tea she'd given you, the one to speed up the pregnancy process. With your friends leaving after dinner, whether they wanted to or not, it seemed like the perfect time to test it out.

Gazing at Rhysand beside you, you communicated your thoughts silently, begging him to try the tea out with you and then going back to your previous activities. He nodded in understanding. Sitting up straight, he glanced at everyone.

“I need all of you leave, right now,” he stated calmly, sipping his drink with the usual nonchalance.

Everyone paused mid-chew, glancing at Rhysand with confusion. Azriel swiftly vanished into his shadows, and Amren departed without so much as a goodbye. Mor and Cassian remained, bewildered, as they questioned the sudden disruption.

“What? Why? I'm not even done eating,” Mor protested.

Rhysand narrowed his eyes, flicking his hand and cleared the table.

"There. I moved everything to your own table in your apartment. Now, get out," he gritted, and they hurriedly made their exit, with Cassian managing a loud laugh before leaving.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

The kettle's whistle grew louder as you were lost in Rhysand's lips. Seated on the table, his arms on either side of you, the moment was pure delight, your hands traveling his body as you toyed with the waistband of his pants. The whistle became unbearable, forcing you to reluctantly break the kiss as you sighed and made your way to brew the tea. The leaves, red and golden, intensified in color as you poured the boiling water in.

“Darling, that looks deceptively inviting. Like it would lure us in with its pretty colors and then make our hearts stop,” he joked, joining you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, playfully holding you in a mock chokehold.

“Huh, deceptively inviting... sounds a lot like someone I know,” you teased, lazily kissing the strong forearm wrapped around your throat. His laughter resonated, his chest rumbling, and you felt the vibrations, savoring the moment.

He kissed your temple before letting you go, guiding you back to the table to drink the tea. Both of you nodded in agreement before simultaneously downing the concoction. The taste left you both with a disgusted expression as you placed the empty cups back on the table.

“That tastes like shit. Did Madja say what it was made of?”

You scrunched your face at the aftertaste before replying,

“I find it best not to ask her anymore. Remember the time she had us all eating that soup with fermented fish guts as a cure for that winter fever?”

You shudder at the memory of everyone lying in the hospital, with Madja taking care of the lot of you. It dawned on you that she was feeding you stuff that would've made you even sicker if you found out then. The taste of the mysterious tea was the least of your worries compared to Madja's unconventional remedies.

Rhysand shook his head at the unpleasant memory,

“You’re right. I’d rather not know.”

You giggled at his words, before standing up and putting the cups in the sink. Turning around, you looked at Rhysand with a tilted head, wondering if he was feeling anything because you certainly weren’t.

“Rhysie, are you feeling anything? I’m not sure if it’s taking extra long for the tea to activate or something but I’m not feeling anything yet.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, pondering your words for a moment.

“Honestly, I don’t feel any different either. Maybe it's just a placebo effect or Madja's way of amusing herself with our reactions. Either way, we'll survive it.”

You nodded at his words, yes that made sense.

“Okay, let’s go to my office and catch up on some reports while we wait for the effects to kick in.”

You both headed to your office, the boring tasks providing a welcome distraction while the mysterious tea's potential effects lingered in the background. As you delved into work, the anticipation of what might unfold kept a subtle excitement in the air.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

An hour in Rhysand was starting to feel uncomfortable. His forehead and neck was starting to feel warm and he mindlessly unbuttoned the first buttons of his shirt for some extra cooling.

You on the other hand still felt nothing, if anything, you started feeling very sleepy, eyelids heavy as you tried blinking back the tiredness that washed over you.

“I’m feeling really tired, rhys. Can you take me upstairs?” your voice was low and laced with sleep, complete opposite of your mate.

Not being able to find his voice, he stood up from the chaise, his movements more desperate, and walked over to you before bending down and picking you up.

Something that should've been a mundane task.

However, this time he couldn’t help but notice the difference in size, how easy he could pick you up in his arms, how your boobs moved under your shirt, the way the curve of your ass pressed against him with every move, the softness of your skin and the intoxicatingly sweet smell of you. A low, suppressed growl vibrated through him as he tightened his hold, relishing the warmth and unmistakable presence of his mate.

A possessive and obsessive surge overwhelmed him as he held you, an intoxicating certainty that you belonged to him, and he had earned every inch of your love and affection.

Rhysand was utterly obsessed with you, he showed in the way he was watching you like a hawk while he put you down on the soft bed, tucking you under a blanket.

Rhys knelt by the bed, his gaze fixed on your sleeping form. His pupils dilated so much, transforming the familiar violet of his eyes into a dark, almost black shade. His face and chest had taken on a dark shade of blush, as blood rushed to his cock at the sight of your peaceful form.

He couldn’t look away when you turned around, blanket having rolled up, showing him the lenght of your legs, so smooth and soft, Normally, the sight wouldn’t have made him behave like some sort of teenager seeing a girls tits for the first time and it made him feel like a disgusting pervert. Here his mate laid, unaware that he was lusting over something as juvenile as her leg.

Deep down, he didn’t really care. Rhysand felt like he was on top of the world.

Waves of pleasure surged through him, heightening his senses and intensifying every touch and sensation, the feeling of the sheets against his palms sent electric waves through his body. The world around him seemed to shimmer with and a blissful euphoria enveloped him, creating an intoxicating sensation that left him utterly captivated.

You stirred, sensing Rhys kneeling by the bed. As you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of him, his gaze locked on your sleeping form. His eyes, once a familiar violet, now darkened to a deep, almost black hue.

The effects of the tea finally kicked in, and your body responded with waves of pleasure. Your heartbeat quickened, the world around you blurring into a hazy backdrop as you fixated on the rhythmic sound of Rhysand's heavy breaths. A searing warmth pooled in the lower part of your stomach, almost like molten lava, urging you to clench your legs, all while a whimper threatened to escape your lips.

Feeling overwhelmed, you sought relief in the bathroom, flinging off the blanket and splashing cold water on your face and chest. Bracing yourself on the sink, you took a few deep breaths before returning to your room. As you opened the door, eyes lowered, you collided with something soft yet firm. Looking up, you found Rhysand, gazing at you with a tilted head, as if studying you like a puzzle.

“Oh, hi baby, didn’t see-”

Before you could finish the sentence, he pounced on you, grabbing the back of your head as he crushed your lips against his. Your eyes widened in surprise, hands instinctively grabbing his biceps to steady yourself.

His other hand wrapped around your waist, forcefully pulling your body towards him, leaving no room for any space. As his front pressed against yours, you felt his hard erection poking at your stomach.

A desperate need for more coursed through your veins like a wildfire, the tea intensifying every sensation. Your nipples tightened, craving his touch with an almost primal hunger. In his arms, you practically melted at his animalistic touch.

It all felt so fucking good, you thought you’d come just by kissing him. You moaned loudly when he started licking and kissing your neck, gently biting your earlobe before going back to giving you hickies.

Tears formed in your eyes as you brought a hand down your panties, hoping to relieve yourself before it got too much, however frustration filled you as your efforts were wasted. No matter how much you rutted against your fingers, it wasn’t enough. If only made you more needy and frustrated.

“no, t’s not working, please mate, please touch me. need you so badly”

Your tears eventually fell as you whined, face covered in salty tears as you begged your man for more, more of him, more of anything.

The desperation in your voice prompted Rhysand to pick you up and drag you to bed, gently pushing you into it. He swiftly undressed before pulling you towards the edge of the bed by your ankles, ripping of whatever clothes you had on. An animalistic move if anything but it made you even more wet.

“We’re not fucking leaving until I get you pregnant. I need you nice and round, filled with my cum, do you understand?“

His words were gritted, as if he was holding himself back, restrained by an invisible force.

You nodded, desperate for him.

“Please, let me make you a daddy.”

With a low rumbling growl he throws your legs over his shoulders and ruts into you so hard, the entire bed starts shaking. He bullies his big cock in you as you squirm, trying to initially get away as if you’ve never been fucked by him before. Rhys doesn’t slow down because he knows you can take it, he knows that you’re his equal, made for him as he is for you. And when you beg him to go harder he only smiles wickedly, satisfied that he knows you inside and out.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

You don’t remember know how many times he has finished in you.

You're crying uncontrollably and struggling to breathe. Rhysand gives you a gentle smile and plants a kiss on your swollen lips. His cock throbs at that fucked out expression in your eyes, and he has to look away to avoid blowing his load too soon. His mouth tucks itself into the curve of your neck. Your skin slapping continues as those quick thrusts fill the room.

If he didn’t have his hands around your legs to keep them up, they’d have fallen down ages ago. Your whole body feels loose and sloppy, a stupid, fucked out smile on your face as your teary eyes roll back in pleasure.

“Shhh, baby it’s okay. Let me fill you up again. I promise it will feel so, so good.”

You nod absentmindedly as you both come for the umpteenth time.

He was paying close attention to how your hole tightened around him, his sloppy thrusts making the white ring around the base of his dick drip with even more cum.

“You’re so fucking good to me, baby. Gonna look so pretty with your belly all round with my babies.”

His head was thrown back, eyebrows scrunched and jaw slightly dropped as he slowly thrusted in and out, milking the high before he pulled out and slumped forward, making you whine at the feeling. His sweaty body rested on top of yours, and his head lay on your rising and falling chest. His hair was damp, and with a shaking hand, you ran your fingers through it.

“I’ll clean you up in a second, darling.” Just as he was getting up you wrapped your legs around his waist. He scooped you up, arm around your ass as he brought you to the shower to clean you up. Rhys didn't put you down, knowing you might fall, so he washed you while you clung to him.

After the much needed shower, he wrapped you both in a huge fluffy towel and magically changed the sheets as he brushed you hair and put you in one of his shirts.

“Rhysie?”

“Yes, love?”

“That shower was a mighty waste. I think I need you to fuck me one more time, please?”

His eyebrows rose at your words. Never did he think you’d say anything like that. His initial shock was replaced by a proud laugh.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”

And he did.

He gave you two more orgasms, and just as he was ready to pull out after dumping his load, you wrapped your legs around him and begged him not to pull out.

Rhys gave you a soft kiss and pulled you closer as you finally slept, exhaustion pulling you into a deep slumber.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

There wasn't much surprise when he successfully put not just one but two babies in you, twins.

Rhysand's male pride was on overdrive. Twins were really rare, and the fact that he managed to knock you up with them in less than a month was almost cause for a celebration. Well, he would throw a party if he didn't grow so damn protective.

If you thought Rhysand was protective when trying for a child, then this Rhysand was on another level. He actually gritted his teeth at Madja after she put her cold fingers on your body, making you hiss.

Let’s not even discuss when your belly started showing…

The moment he learned of your pregnancy, Rhys acted swiftly, weaving layers of intricate shields around you. It wasn't merely about your safety; it was a manifestation of his deep obsession. The shields were a fortress protecting not only you but also the sweet new scent you emitted, a fragrance that had sparked an intense possessiveness within him.

Rhys had become utterly obsessed with that unique scent, ready to unleash his fury upon anyone who dared to get too close and catch even the faintest whiff of something that was sacredly reserved for him alone.

During the announcement for your friends, the presence of Rhysand by your side, standing assertively close, made them wary of getting close to you. As you both stood together, your radiant happiness contrasted against his dark, protective demeanor.

You were a bit bummed, wondering why no one wanted to hug you or atleast shake your hand, then you took one glance at him and let out a sigh as you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, please. They’re not going to eat me alive, baby. It’s fine I promise.”

You embraced Mor and Cassian warmly, reciprocating their hugs, though they avoided prolonged eye contact with Rhys. Azriel's shoulder clap and rare smile conveyed a similar sentiment to a hug, and Amren, nodding, raised her glass in approval, a subtle twitch of her lips indicating her satisfaction.

You skipped back to Rhysand and gave him a kiss, calming him down as he gave you an appreciative smile.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

Pregnancy had made you both extra needy. Rhys got hard everytime he thought about the fact that you were actually carrying his babies, and you got turned on because he was walking sex.

He built a new nursery from scratch, adding an entire new wing to the river estate. Initially, you doubted it would be finished in nine months, but you quickly learned not to doubt him – he always kept his word. Lo and behold, a whole new section of the house emerged, ready for the babies and any future additions to your growing family in only 3 months. His dedication spoke volumes about his commitment to you and the little ones on the way.

He channeled his inner builder during this project, and it never failed to amaze you how desperate he made you feel. Walking around the house wearing nothing but a work belt, sweaty from new constructions, he was a vision of strength and capability. Often, you stood from afar, watching him skillfully build things, savoring the sight before the need to get fucked took over.

Your lips were bitten in silent admiration as he stood there in nothing but linen pants, hanging dangerously low on his hips while building the crib. He looked absolutely delicious , and the appreciation for his craftsmanship would be handsomely rewarded by you.

“Are you going to stare at me all day, beautiful? Come inside, I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”

A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he stood up, sauntering toward you with a grin. His hand extended playfully, a silent invitation to join him.

Deciding to tease him back, because let's be real, you need him bad right now, you chuckle and let the playful banter unfold.

“And what if I do want you to bite? What if I ask you to get us back to our room and fuck me? Would you do it?”

You looked up at him with wide eyes, attempting to portray someone innocently asking a casual question.

“Have I ever said no to you in my life, darling?” he teased, his smile darkening, before winking and leading the way back to your room.

Rhys had vanished your clothes, leaving you bare as he worshipped you. His teasing words and soft caresses brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“You're going to be the best mother ever, such a good mommy for my babes. Nurturing and caring for them. No one is better than you, my love. No one loves as purely as you, fuck,” he whispered urgently, his neediness and desire lacing every word.

His whiny, rasping words were the finishing touch you needed before coming all over his creamy cock with a cry.

Yet again, he took care of you, cleaning you up as he always did. Your mate, ever the loving and caring male, ensuring your well-being with a tenderness that spoke volumes about his deep affection for you.

꩜ ꩜ ꩜

The arrival of your twins turned into a joyous celebration, filling Velaris with happiness over the birth of the new princess and prince. Your friends, throughout your journey, provided unwavering support, guiding you through the hardships and challenges of being new parents.

Now, a new chapter of your life had opened, one you couldn't wait to share with your one true love, marking the beautiful beginning of your happily ever after.

🏷️ taglist: @callmeblaire @acourtofladydeath

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deadghosy · 8 months

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HEADCANNONS TEEN! READER LEARNING HOW TO DRIVE

various x gn! teen reader

LUCIFER

• Tried to teach you how to drive only for you to drive into a wall.

• Pretty much he has a helmet on with body armor and his seltbelt on saying sum,

"safety first!"🤓

• He would react calm to you driving ike a bat from hell as he gives you tips. Only for you to use the tips horribly.

• He revoked your driving license and privileges.

CHARLIE

• She asked you to go get some stuff for her only for you to ram the car into the hotel upstairs.

• HOW THE FUCK DID YOU EVEN GET UP THERE?!

• She screamed out of shock but calmed down seeing your gremlin ass smile as you hopped out the car holding out whatever she wanted you to get for her.

• She also revoked your driving privileges and license. She doesn't want anyone hurt or yourself.

VAGGIE

• She already revoked it the moment you drove into an old demon lady.

• She's not risking SHIT!

• She tried to help you again but you pressed the gas so hard you almost flew out the driving seat.

• So yeah she revoked ya shit, even the keys.

ALASTOR

• Absolutely NO.

• He's not stepping foot into your car.

• He might as well slash your tire with a sick smile cause he doesn't trust you driving at fucking all.

• Literally just teleports you to the places you want. He ain't risking nothing if he wants to live from your terrible driving.

HUSK

• He was drunk, and you were sober. Next thing this fucker woke up to was you inside of a shop's wall chuckling nervously...

• "What in the fu-"

• You guys had to walk to the hotel handing the keys to Charlie who is just happy you and husk are okay.

• Husk never trusted you to be his Uber.

ANGEL DUST

• Lord have mercy

Angel better pray you don't come across Valentino because your driving is so bad to the point you accidentally almost hit Valentino.

• Angel was in the car on his phone scrolling through hellgram (instagram) when he heard you cuss loudly and swerve almost hitting his boss Valentino.

• You speeded the fuck out of there while

Angel's eyes were wide as a pizza. Bro hoped Valentino didn't know who was in the car. But you chuckled a little.

• "I kinda wished I ran that motherfucker over."

• Angel nodded chuckling as he sits properly in the passenger seat.

ADAM

• This fucker literally was the driver...he rammed into your apartment as you screamed shock.

• "SUP BITCHHH!"

• Literally you forced him to fix your wall as he mumbles cuss words under his breath.

• But if you are a worse driver than him. He's gripping the fuck out his seat while either screaming of fun or fear.

PENTIOUS

• He passed out scared.

• YOU CANT TELL ME HE WOULDN'T PASS

OUT

• He is such a precious boy holding onto the car door to the point his hands are sweaty for holding it for so long.

• His egg boiz are having a blast in the background as they jump in the backseat while you do this shit like Tokyo drift. Like shiiit you might as well join fast and furious.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x child reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x you #hazbin angel dust #hazbin lucifer #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #hazbin charlie #child reader #teen reader

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heartlilith · 10 months

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Solar Return Chart Observations 💖

Here are some of my observations and opinions on various placements in the Solar Return Chart

🐇💗🐇💗🐇💗🐇💗🐇💗🐇💗🐇💗🐇💗🐇💗🐇

🪽1st House Pluto / Pluto aspecting the Ascendent can bring immense change that year - especially if you have an Aries or Capricorn rising or Mars/Saturn in the 1st house. Scorpio in the 1st house indicates this as well but less intensely (imo). It may will be a painful process but when you look back on it, it'll be so worth it. If you take away anything from reading about this placement, please let it be to trust the process. Trust the process!!!

🪽Speaking of Pluto; wherever Pluto sits in your SR Chart can indicate where you experience the most change that year - it's where you transform.

🪽Vertex in the SR Chart can show you where fated events will take place; Vertex conjunct Venus in the 5th house can indicate dating someone who teaches you a life lesson or this person could be your soulmate.

🪽Vertex is activated in the SR chart when you meet someone with their Sun, Moon, ASC conjunct your Vertex, aka in the same sign/house. These people come into your life to teach you something. Pay attention to the house placement and aspects to see what the lesson could be.

🪽The worst year of my life was last year (2022). I had my 11th house profection year in Scorpio, traditionally ruled by Mars (modern day Pluto). My Mars in my SR Chart was in the 12th house squaring my Sun, Saturn (22 degree) and my MC. It was in a tight conjunction with Uranus and my North Node and my Moon sign was in 0 degrees. That shit sucked, I wouldn't wish that year on my worst enemy.

🪽12th house placements/signs in the Solar Return Chart can show what people say about you behind your back during the year. Sun in the 12th house squaring Jupiter could mean that people think you're overly confident in your abilities or even egotistical. Venus conjunct ASC in the 12th house could indicate that people talk about how charming and friendly you are. Scorpio ruling the 12th house could have people asking questions about you to others or trying to indirectly get to know you. Looking at aspects with this placement can indicate negative talk (square, opposition), positive talk (trine, sextile) or mixed (conjunction).

🪽12th house placements can also indicate "hidden enemies" or people secretly giving you the evil eye and praying on your downfall. Capricorn Mars in the 12th house can indicate older men or male authority figures (most likely in the workplace) wishing you bad luck that year. Sun in Libra in the 12th house could indicate that your female/feminine friends act fake to your face and talk about you behind your back. Sun here can even mean that you yourself are your own worst enemy. Aries in the 12th house could indicate that the people who dislike you take on Martian traits; can become aggressive, loud, or competitive around you. These people are constantly trying to "one up" you. Pay attention to what house the 12th house lord sits in, it can give you clues for who to watch out for; Lord in 3rd house - your siblings, Lord in 8th house - inlaws, Lord in 11th house - your social group and people in your community.

🪽Venus in the 2nd house in your Solar Return can indicate buying a lot gifts for yourself or having a partner that buys them for you (sugar baby energy). Make up, clothes, jewelry, massages, candles, pajamas, skin care, accessories, and good food can be some of the things you get.

🪽Fire Mars in the 1st house can indicate having more energy, coming across as more aggressive, gaining muscles, starting a workout routine, or obtaining prominent scars on the body.

🪽Water Mars in the 1st house can indicate moodiness, gaining the ability to stick up for oneself, an abundance of creative energy, and wearing your heart (and emotions) on your sleeve.

🪽Earth Mars in the 1st house of the SR Chart can indicate gaining patience that year and learning to take your time. It can give you sustained energy and the ability to complete long term projects/goals.

🪽Air Mars in the 1st house: A lot of mental energy that can manifest as anxiety, a lot of great ideas that could be put into motion, the ability to look at situations from a detached point of view and the ability to multitask.

🪽Moon in the 11th house: You could befriend more females this year or be especially comforted by feminine energies.

🪽Jupiter aspecting ASC - indicates a positive year ahead, Jupiter brings luck and abundance to the person's life. Jupiter here can indicate a positive outlook this year and the native could be presented with great opportunities.

🪽Neptune in the 7th house in the SR Chart can make the native more prone to manipulation. They could be the ones manipulating but most likely it's their partners or someone in their one on one connections. Take off the rose colored glasses. If it feels wrong then its probably wrong.

🪽MC Lord in positive aspect to Sun/Jupiter in the Solar Return Chart can bring positive recognition in the workplace, a raise, or a promotion over the coming year.

🪽Neptune square MC can make an individual unsure about their career. They may have a clouded sense of direction and may realize that they want to do something completely different than what they do now. That, or they could have trouble focusing at work and make careless mistakes as a result.

🪽1st House Lord in the houses can also indicate prominent themes for the year and situations that you'll need to face head on. 1st House Lord in 7th house can make you question how your relationships affect you or it could bring the realization that you need to establish clear boundaries in order to find balance. 1st House Lord in the 10th house can indicate that the native's reputation will be in the spotlight and they will put all their energy into their career for the year. Look at your aspects and assess whether you need to proceed with caution.

🪽Mars harshly aspecting 8th House Lord can indicate accidents that can harm you physically. Be careful around Mars ruled things; knives, power tools, motor vehicles, gym equipment, playing contact sports, etc.

🪽1st House Mercury or Mercury aspecting the ASC can make you more talkative for the year and able to soak up information like a sponge.

🪽Moon in harsh aspect to Mars/Neptune/Jupiter can make it hard to focus on things for the year.

🪽Capricorn Rising in the SR Chart can indicate learning a lot of lessons in the year ahead, be patient with this one because it comes with a lot of blockages which can lead to frustration and impatience.

🪽Saturn/Mars ruled profection years are the hardest to go through in my opinion but they bring the most growth.

🪽Pay attention to where your Chiron is placed in the SR Chart. It can bring up old wounds and traumas that can trigger you and throw you off balance. Chiron in the 1st house: Try to maintain a positive outlook this year, journal your experiences and remind yourself of what you're grateful for. Chiron in the 6th house: Take good care of your health and eat nutritious foods. Try to get along with your coworkers and implement self-care in your daily routines. Chiron in the 11th house: Tell your friends what you appreciate about them, don't take disrespect but pick your battles wisely, donate or volunteer to help those in need.

💗🐇💗🐇💗🐇💗🐇💗🐇💗🐇💗🐇💗🐇💗🐇💗

#solar return #solar return chart #solar return notes #solar return chart observations #astrology #astro observations #astro #astrology community #astro community #profection year #annual profection year #astrology transits #transits

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icaruspendragon · 7 months

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hiii, this might be weird, but who is Lazarus? I'm not religious, so I've tried searching for who he is, but I can't seem to get a clear answer and was wondering if you could explain him?

ah yes, lazarus of bethany. a man i consider to be equal parts friend and foe.

lazarus lived in bethany with his two sisters, mary and martha. and when we meet him, he’s sick. so much so that his sisters send for jesus of nazareth saying, “lord, your dear friend is very sick.”

jesus of nazareth was in jerusalem when he received the message. and despite being only a few miles from bethany, and despite jesus loving martha and mary and lazarus, he waited. he didn’t go to them straight away. he waited. he waited until lazarus died and then said, “lazarus’ sickness will not end in death. no, it happened for the glory of god so that the son of god will receive glory from this.”

and when jesus finally made it to bethany he was told lazarus had already died. that he has already been in the grave for four days. and when martha, sister of lazarus got word that jesus was coming, she went to meet him. and mary, sister of lazarus did not. and when martha saw jesus she said to him, “lord, if only you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

and jesus said to her, “your brother will rise again.”

but then mary arrived and she saw jesus and she fell at his feet and she said, “lord, if only you had been here, my brother would not have died.” and she wept over her brother. because she loved him and he was gone. and jesus should have been there. because if jesus had been there, her brother would not have died.

and jesus saw her weeping. and he saw the other people wailing with her. because lazarus was deeply loved. and now he was gone. and they had sent for jesus. they had prayed for a miracle. and that miracle didn’t come until it was four days too late. and they didn’t know that jesus was going to bring lazarus back. they didn’t know that jesus had waited that long to teach a lesson. to prove a point. they just knew jesus was too late. and now they were forced to grieve.

and then a deep anger welled up in jesus. and he was deeply troubled. and jesus asks, “where have you put him?” and the people say, “lord, come and see.” and he does. and when he sees, jesus weeps. when he sees, we get the shortest verse in the bible. a mere two words to sum up an entire town’s grief. two words to convey the loss of a sibling. two words are offered for the preventable death of a loved man.

jesus is four days too late. and jesus?

jesus wept.

and the people who loved lazarus turned to him and said to jesus, “see how much he loved him!”

jesus loved lazarus. and then he let him die.

and some of the people said about jesus “this man healed a blind man. couldn’t he have kept lazarus from dying?”

and then jesus, who knew all along that he would revive lazarus. jesus, who let all those people mourn. jesus, who let those sisters lose their brother. jesus, who let them weep. jesus, who wept with them. that very same jesus said to those who loved lazarus, who mourned him, jesus of nazareth said to them, “didn’t i tell you that you would see god’s glory if you believe?”

and then the stone of lazarus’ tomb was rolled aside. and then jesus looked up to heaven and said, “father, thank you for hearing me. you always hear me, but i said it out loud for the sake of all these people standing here, so that they will believe you sent me.” and then jesus shouted, “lazarus, come out!” and he did.

lazarus the dead man came out, his hands and feet and face wrapped still in burial cloth. and then jesus of nazareth told them, “unwrap him and let him go!”

and then lazarus of bethany became lazarus of the grave. lazarus of the grave that will never be left behind even though he has risen and relinquished. lazarus of the grave who did not make good his escape unscathed. lazarus of the grave who will now check each darkened doorway as death and his sting is keenly felt.

lazarus was a man. a man whose family loved him. a man whose sisters sent for a miracle. a man whose sisters mourned him in the four days it took for that miracle to show up. a man who was made an example for no reason other than being loved by jesus. a thing that we are all told to be. loved by our savior.

lazarus is a man who makes me wonder three things. firstly, if jesus had been there that my brother may not have died. secondly, if jesus of nazareth too weeps for me. and thirdly, if jesus loves us and we in turn love him too like the scriptures command, why does he use us in the lessons he teaches.

why must we be the men he makes believers of?

so lazarus was just a man whose crime was loving jesus. and martha was just a girl whose crime was loving her brother. and they both suffered a miracle because of it.

#cw religion #yeah it’s always time to religious trauma post on main #lazarus was just a man #lazarus was brother #and my brother was a man #and i am a sister #and i too loved jesus as martha and mary did #so why did he get to come back when my brother did not?#i also tend to think of lazarus as dean winchester before i think of him as lazarus from the bible lmao #hence the title of my book being ‘lazarus rises (amongst other things)’#bc of hit cw show supernatural #and the bible too ig #but mainly supernatural

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igate777 · 4 months

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#intercession #prayer #ecclesia #discipleship #Intercessory Prayer #Lord teach us how to pray #Prophetic intercession #Effective prayer #Portalsgate Broadcast #Discipleship and prayer #Prophetic Spirit in prayer

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murdockparker · 6 months

Text

Roses and Regrets Part 2

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: What a pleasant life it is, to be a widow with no obligations. Getting new dresses, making unlikely friends, what a treat.

Word Count: 3.9k

Rating: 18+!!! MINORS DNI (I will haunt you)

Warnings: female masturbation, yearning, Reader decidedly hates Anthony (what's new??) , maybe a bit of angst

A/N: oops my hands slipped and this is what happened. sorry bout that, bruv!

first part - next part

—

“You should have seen him, Meg.”

Her lady’s maid nodded along to Lady Barlow’s rant, having heard the interaction in nauseam since she returned from the park. From his appearance to his demeanor—Meg assumed she might as well have been there. Carefully, she continued to remove the pins from the dowager viscountess’ hair, the very same that she had placed in the morning.

“I am sure Lord Bridgerton was certainly unagreeable,” Meg droned, accidentally snagging her lady’s hair. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“You know, you don’t have to do all that, I am a perfectly capable woman,” (Y/N) laughed, looking at her maid in the mirror. “And he was, unagreeable, if you must know.”

“He is alway unagreeable,” Meg said, exasperated. “My lady, please take no offense, but I think this talk of Lord Bridgerton must cease.”

“You do not have to ask me twice,” (Y/N) snorted. “I wish for nothing more than to stop speaking about that oaf.”

Meg blinked. “Right. Of course.”

“You… you do not believe me?”

“I believe you believe it to be true,” Meg carefully stated, hands by her sides. “We have a good friendship, ma’am, and I am ever grateful that you allow me to speak my mind—”

“So speak it,” (Y/N) said, voice tittering on a giggle. “I shall not take offense, I swear it.”

“You have done nothing but speak of Lord Bridgerton since you arrived from your visit to the park,” Meg began, choosing her words carefully. “Save for when you had your meals, hard to speak over soup and the like. I, for one, am exhausted hearing about it. Perhaps a respite from the topic?”

“Imagine how I feel,” (Y/N) finally laughed. “That man makes me insane.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I pray whenever he marries—oh that poor woman—I hope she can teach him some manners.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Perhaps I should send him a book on it? Manners, I mean.”

“Good idea, ma’am.”

“Meg, you are not hearing me.”

“Oh I am hearing you,” Meg nodded. “I am just choosing not to listen.”

She bit her lip, eyeing her friend’s faraway glance. Glassy, almost. “Perhaps… I suppose I should drop the topic for now?”

“It is late,” Meg shook her head, nearly dropping out of a trance. “I have mending to attend to, if you do not mind.”

“You hate the mending.”

“Picking and choosing my battles, ma’am,” Meg smiled politely.

“Admirable,” (Y/N) said. “I suppose it is late…”

“Might I fetch you some more tea before you retire?” She set the last pin down amongst the vanity. Covered in expensive oils and products, it’s a wonder that anyone could find anything at all on the surface. Thank God Meg knew the contents like the back of her hand.

“No… I fear it will keep me up all night, but thank you, truly,” (Y/N) said.

“Goodnight, my lady.”

And then, she was alone.

Snuffing her candle, she hopped into her bed. Thankfully she never shared this one with Lord Barlow—that was reserved in the wing across the estate—leaving this bed untouched by such a soiled man. It was pleasantly plush and covered in endless pillows, she wondered if the royal princesses slept in beds as nice as this one—nicer, probably. More pillows, if she had to wager.

Sheets pulled up to her chin, eyes focused on the ceiling, she tried to chase sleep. Her mother had taught her a trick when she was young, imagining rabbits chasing around the room and counting those—perhaps it was sheep? Regardless, she tried counting. She only made it to twenty nine before flipping onto her side, exasperated by the count.

Sleep never came.

The covers melted off of her body in an instant, floating over to her door to ensure it was locked. Quietly, oh-so quietly, she turned the latch. No need for the staff to interrupt her… sleep. She hardly had to turn to such matters, but when exhaustion cycled her brain and not her body, leaving her tossing and turning all night, she really had no other choice.

No other choice, she reminded herself.

She laid on top of the covers this time, rabbits and sheep all but forgotten.

If there was to be one positive of marrying, it was the sheer fact that she was able to fully understand her body as a woman. While the marital act itself was entirely loathsome—a chore with Lord Barlow that happened infrequently during their marriage to try for an heir—the act of doing it alone?

Why the idea alone just got her heart pounding.

She never had anyone to teach her these things, her mother passed before her marriage, so there was no ‘wedding night talk’. Everything that Lady Barlow had learned was from her sheer will and determination—a chase for something she never quite knew she was racing towards. Her husband? He had never been any help. A few grunts and thrusts before he would spend himself inside, collapsing on top of her for the night.

She refused to give her late husband much thought—not when her hands were on her breasts, one slinking lower to touch a more delicate area.

No. She needed to focus her thinking on something else. Something to get the job done, send her to sleep sooner than later.

The gentleman. The faceless one that she imagined in place of her own hands. It usually sped things along if she focused on a generally well-looking fellow and how he’d touch her instead of just chasing her own feelings with her fingertips. Saved her wrists a lot of pain too—occasionally she felt like she was back practicing her penmanship, writing lines all day with her governess—the ache was fairly similar. Although, one pain caused a higher embarrassment than the other.

Decidedly happy with her diversion of thought, she made quick work on the bottom of her nightdress and pulled it up to her stomach. (Y/N) had never the need to sleep with drawers, feeling a dress was more than enough. Besides, it gave her easy access on nights like tonight. Her fingers danced with her lower lips, already damp with arousal.

She sighed at the first contact, the pure ecstasy of running her fingertips across her glistening folds. In her mind, he was doing this to her, the nameless man who wanted nothing more than to give her what she needed. With slow and tantalizing circles, she teased her clit, gasps leaving her lips involuntarily, her eyes rolling shut before she could even think. Her non-dominant hand continued to grasp at her breast, squeezing and rolling the flesh until she was utterly mindless.

The climb was thrilling, it was suffocating and all encompassing. How she dreamed she could experience this with someone, feel this pleasure with another, both giving and taking exactly what the other needed. She groaned again, feeling herself getting closer to the edge, her circles faster now, the gentleman making good work on her neglected center.

“Gods,” (Y/N) cried, trying her very best to keep her voice down. She didn’t need Meg inquiring about her, not when she was so worked up and so, so close.

And then… the fall. Everything was white and her heart felt like it was bound to beat out of her chest.

Brown eyes.

As she fell into a peaceful slumber, for no reason in particular, she decided her faceless gentleman had brown eyes.

—

Breaking her fast was usually rewarding, the chefs at Barlow Estate were some of the most talented in the ton—of course, only in her humble opinion, not that she had much to compare it to. When she first married Lord Barlow, having such fulfilling meals first thing in morning was almost worth marrying such an oaf. Almost.

“Did you have a good sleep, ma’am?” A butler asked, taking (Y/N)’s empty plate, replacing it with one full of fresh cut fruit.

“Oh!” Her face flushed. “Y-yes, James, of course. I always have a pleasant sleep.”

“You look well rested, ma’am,” he nodded.

“My lady,” Meg spoke up, gaining the attention of Lady Barlow from her fruit. “You have an appointment at the modiste early this afternoon.”

“I don’t recall making an appointment,” (Y/N) held her hand still, half of an apple tight in her grasp.

“I made the appointment, ma’am,” Meg said. “You are in need of new dresses—”

“Is there something wrong with the way I dress?”

“Of course not,” Meg said quickly, her face growing slightly pink. “It is just, since the late Lord Barlow passed you have been in mourning attire—blacks, blues, the entire dreary ensemble. I figured it would be best to get dresses that suited more the colors of the season.”

“I am unsure if you noticed,” (Y/N) said, taking a small bite of her apple. She chewed it quickly. “But my dress today is green.”

“I did notice,” Meg nodded politely. “It is a lovely color, but perhaps a lighter blue would be nice? A purple?”

“Perhaps you should listen to her, ma’am,” James interjected. “The family account has not been used since after your wedding and the mourning attire—”

“And I can use that money elsewhere,” (Y/N) raised her brow. “I’m sure the new viscount will be pleased I am not blowing his money so frivolously, I do not see the need for new dresses.”

Meg sighed, giving James a trying look. He shrugged. “Humor me. Just one dress.”

“Fine. One dress."

Somehow, between the carriage ride to the modiste and the tailoring of a beautiful purple display piece, Lady (Y/N) Barlow was talked into three new dresses. A sharp pinprick to her left leg brought her back to her senses.

“Oh! Lady Barlow, I do apologize,” Madame Delacroix said. “You must keep still as I pin your hems."

“I will try my best,” (Y/N) smiled, glancing down at the woman working hard on her new dress. “How fortunate the display dress you had fits so well.”

“Oui, how fortunate,” Madame Delacroix nodded. “A few pins and stitches and it will be perfect. And this color is very flattering—I am certain the men of the ton will turn their heads at this.”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. “I have no need to turn heads, Madame,” (Y/N) said curtly. “I am simply just refreshing my wardrobe.”

“Oh, no one has the need to turn heads, save for the young ladies,” Madame Delacroix giggled, it sounded almost fake, forced. “But my work will do that regardless, so do expect that Lady Barlow.”

“Joy,” (Y/N) sighed, tilting her head at her reflection. While it hadn’t been an extraordinarily long time since she debuted—a shake over three years at the most—she was no longer the young girl from her first season. Her curves have filled out, her features more defined, so this particular cut was suiting her just fine. Madame Delacroix was the best modiste for a reason, knowing just how to make the ladies of the ton sparkle.

The front door swung open, a sea of blue flooding in the entryway. “Ah, Lady Bridgerton, I shall be with you in a moment!” Madame Delacroix called out.

(Y/N) froze at the mere mention of the Bridgerton name.

“Take your time, Madame,” Lady Bridgerton cooed, practically shoving a book of fabrics in her daughter’s face. Eloise, (Y/N) recalls, the second eldest daughter of the brood. It was her first season. “We’ll be patient.”

“Shall I pull another dress, Lady Barlow?”

“No,” (Y/N) shook her head wildly. “I rather think I am finished for this afternoon. Please add the dresses to my account—”

“Lady Barlow,” Lady Bridgerton said kindly. “How lovely it is to see you.”

Fuck.

“Lady Bridgerton,” (Y/N) curtsied, feeling far too proper. “Likewise.”

“What a lovely color that is on you,” she said, eying the girl up and down. “I take it you are out of mourning then, yes?”

“Have been since the Danbury Ball,” (Y/N) nodded. “But I gather Lady Whistledown has already made that public knowledge.”

Lady Bridgerton's cheeks flushed, like a child with their hand caught in the biscuit jar. “I cannot say that I find myself reading that gossip rag often, but—”

“Oh Mother,” Eloise groaned, looking up at the ceiling in frustration. “You read Whistledown just as often as I.”

“I do not blame you, Lady Bridgerton,” (Y/N) quickly added. The older woman’s shoulders relaxed. “For the many months I was in mourning and not socializing, Whistledown was my way I could keep up with everything. I very much would like to thank her, should I ever get the opportunity.”

“Yes, well,” Lady Bridgerton cleared her throat. “In any case, if you happen to be free tomorrow afternoon, would you like to join me for tea?”

“Tea?”

“I remember how it felt when—” she stopped herself, eyes becoming glassy. “Becoming a widow so suddenly is difficult. I would like to bestow my wisdom upon you if you’d allow it.”

“You are not quite old enough to be bestowing wisdom,” (Y/N) laughed lightly.

“I beg to differ,” Eloise mumbled.

“Flattery, Lady Barlow, will get you everywhere,” Lady Bridgerton smiled, elbowing her daughter lightly. “And you already have the invite, no need to lay it on so thick.”

“That is very kind of you, but—”

“So, shall we say noon tomorrow?”

The Bridgertons, as Lady Barlow gathered, were a difficult lot to say no to.

“Noon. Sounds perfect.”

—

It felt odd, being in the drawing room of Bridgerton House. She only ever had the fleeting thought that she’d ever sit here the once—ages ago during her first season. Now? Now she was sitting and drinking tea with Lady Bridgerton as if nothing was wrong in the world.

“You have a lovely home,” (Y/N) said, holding her teacup a little tighter than she should.

“Thank you,” Lady Bridgerton said voice full of appreciation. “Tell me, Lady Barlow, how is your family?”

“My family?”

“Oh, forgive me for asking,” Lady Bridgerton clarified. “I just had realized that I know very little about you, you were only in the season for such a short time before you married. I figured your family was a good place to start.”

“No, no,” (Y/N) put the cup down. “I understand. Seeing as everyone knows about your family,” Lady Bridgerton chuckled at that, “I should only fill in some blank spaces, I suppose.”

The elder dowager nodded her head, tipping her cup at the younger widow to continue.

“No family, I’m afraid,” (Y/N) said, her voice wavering on sad. “Mother passed a few years before my debut, Father just last year. No siblings, so… just me I’m afraid.”

“Goodness,” Lady Bridgerton pressed a hand to her heart. “Your father and husband in the same year? I am truly sorry for your losses.”

“My mother was the true loss,” she said honestly, her voice practically lifting. “Kindest soul to grace this Earth, I mourn her every day. The others? I do not doubt anyone has missed them.”

“Lord Barlow,” Lady Bridgerton dropped a spoonful of sugar into her cup. “He was an odious man. When I had heard he had taken another wife—it was quite the story around the ton. I was beside myself.”

“I happen to be number three,” (Y/N) said matter-of-factly. “Number One and Two both died in childbirth, trying to give that man his beloved heir. Never worked out, and I cannot say I am crestfallen I never came to be with child, either. The new Lord Barlow is quite well suited for the role regardless, I am told, so I suppose it has worked out for the best.”

“Yes,” Lady Bridgerton had a small smile against her lips, “I can imagine so.”

“Does your son,” (Y/N) coughed, correcting herself, “Lord Bridgerton, does he know I am here for tea?”

“Oh my son is not always privy to my social calendar,” the older woman winked. “He is probably out galavanting and trying to find a wife.”

“A wife?”

“Oh, yes,” Lady Bridgerton nearly beamed. “Lord Bridgerton is finally looking to marry—even after all these years of begging him. Something just clicked last season, I suppose. Perhaps Daphne, the duchess, marrying finally gave him the right idea?”

(Y/N) nodded politely. “I’m sure you’re thrilled.”

“I only wish for the best for all eight of my children,” she nodded, “so seeing him look to marry makes me ever hopeful.”

“Mhm,” (Y/N) sank into more of her cup, polishing it off.

The grand clock ticked away.

“I apologize if this all makes you uncomfortable Lady Barlow,” Lady Bridgerton started. “It is just… when Edmund passed, I had my family and wonderful friends to support me. I figured, perhaps, having another friend would not be the worst thing?”

“Lady Bridgerton, you are very kind for checking in with me, and I very much appreciate this tea,” (Y/N) said honestly. She felt like she could jump out of her skin with anxiety, but tried her very best to keep it under control. “But… as you had alluded, it is no secret that Lord Barlow and I were not a love match. There is no need—”

“Being a widow is hard,” Lady Bridgerton cut her off. “It is rotten work and you feel like a shell of yourself, only having a title such as ours because of who we married and not in our own right. Tell me, do you plan on remarrying?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I am quite content with my life,” (Y/N) said thoughtfully. “Widows have all the freedom in the world, I am allowed many opportunities because of it—far more than when I was simply a little thing on the Marriage Mart.”

“I suppose that would be… correct,” Lady Bridgerton treaded lightly. “However, do you not wish for a family? The support of another?”

“It is not that I do not wish for a family,” (Y/N) said truthfully. “I am sure part of me does, but it is more the matter of everything that comes with it.”

“I could never imagine going about life alone,” Lady Bridgerton said. “After Edmund… I am just grateful my children were here to keep me sane, grounded, even.”

“Children can be a blessing…”

“But children,” Lady Bridgerton added quickly, “they are not for everyone. I hope you find happiness in whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” the young viscountess said sincerely. “You have such a wonderful life, Lady Bridgerton.”

“Violet,” she corrected. “Please, call me Violet.”

“Oh,” (Y/N)’s cheeks darkened. “Violet, then.”

“We are friends now, after all,” Violet smiled kindly, the kind of smile only a mother possessed. She waved for the tea to be replaced, a butler practically rushed to fulfill the viscountess’ request. “More tea?”

“I would love some more,” (Y/N) said, feeling lighter than air. Perhaps having a friend was a good step forward, a leap into the right direction.

The door to the drawing room slammed open.

“Mother, I just received our balance from the modiste and—”

Much like he owned the place—and in a way, he did—Lord Bridgerton took command of the less-than-quaint room and had all eye on him. His own eyes—his brown eyes—were trained solely on the widow sitting beside his mother, his mouth agape.

“Oh Anthony, you cannot just barge in here,” Violet scolded, “we have a guest.”

“I see that,” he seethed, shoving his hands behind his back in faux-decorum. “Lady Barlow.”

“Lord Bridgerton,” she nodded stiffly, not bothering to raise from her seat.

He ignored her, turning swiftly to his mother instead. “May I have a word alone with our guest, Mother?”

Feeling the tension in the room rise, Violet sighed, giving into her son’s request. “I believe I should check on the governess, anyhow,” Violet said, rising from her seated position. “Behave.”

Anthony brushed his mother’s whispered warning off, tilting his head to the staff, all leaving the room at his command. The door had barely clicked shut before he stepped forward. “Since when are you friends with my mother?”

“Since when do you care about who I spend my time with?”

“Since that company is my mother,” he said cooly. “I would have thought you were just so turned off by the Bridgerton name that you would ignore all of my family—”

“She is a nice woman,” (Y/N) rose, crossing her arms. “How you managed to turn out the way you have despite that is beyond me.”

“You are in my home,” Anthony pointed. “You insult my character and you dare try to befriend my mother?”

“Dare?” She laughed. “Am I not allowed to have friends?”

“Not with my mother,” he stepped towards her.

“Your mother,” she smiled forcefully, “Violet, has been nothing but kind to me today. She was merely looking out for me—offered me some good advice.”

“Advice?” He laughed. “On what planet could someone many years your senior offer you helpful advice?”

“You could not settle with just insulting me, so you had to insult your own mother? She is not yet elderly—”

“Yet she is older than you,” he corrected, his cheeks pink from his mistake. “Do you not have friends your own age?”

“Do you not have something better to do?”

He huffed, squeezing his wrist in restraint. “I came here to speak with my mother—”

“Yet you shooed her out of the room and decided to speak to me instead,” she countered, stepping closer. “To insult me? To threaten me? Whichever, I suppose, I will never understand. I decided to take tea with Lady Bridgerton because she offered it—offered advice on being a widow, something you have already known about me.”

“I wouldn’t wish for her to hear our conversation, besides, her advice could not have been that helpful,” Anthony snorted. “My parents were in love, her trials of being a widow pales in comparison to your situation—”

“The one in which I also lost a husband? The sole definition of being a widow?” She said, her arms tight against her chest. “That situation?”

The grand clock—that damned grand clock—chimed in the uncomfortable silence, a new hour beginning.

“I may not have loved Lord Barlow,” she admitted. “He may not even have been a friend to me, but I still am a lady who has lost her husband—a lady who has so much as lost her way in this fucked world, a world where a woman cannot simply be without one. Your mother was simply being kind.”

“I did not mean…” Anthony’s posture softened, even just a bit, words caught in his throat.

“But you did,” she pointed. “If you hadn’t meant it, you wouldn’t have said it. My, Lord Bridgerton, you certainly have a way with words, much like you always have, it seems.”

“I beg your pardon?”

She looked at the clock. “I must take my leave. I am expected to be back home soon, the estate certainly cannot run itself, seeing as my husband,” she nearly spat the word, “has left it to my care. What a thoughtful man he was.”

“I—Lady Barlow,” Anthony started, unsure of where he was going with it. “Please accept my apologies.”

“Keep them,” she smiled. “They are nearly as useless as you are. Excuse me.” Lady Barlow opened the door with haste, nodding to the staff members who were waiting outside. Her lady’s maid, Meg, followed only a few steps behind her, her attention caught on the wounded viscount in blue.

Anthony practically dissolved into the arm chair, unsure of what to do next. He had half a mind to go to his study to drink, to pour over the invoices that had him enter this room in the first place. His interactions with Lady Barlow usually left him buzzing, his blood boiling and his ego only partially wounded. How he was left feeling so defeated was beyond him.

“A way with words?” He mumbled to himself. “I never wish to understand that woman.”

Yet, a part of him nearly screamed the opposite.

How peculiar.

—

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ambivalence-is-me · 1 month

Text

Your Power (2)

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: The day has come, you had to face the consequences of your actions. Thinking about seeing Azriel and the inner circle again made you incredibly nervous, you pray you make it out alive.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: mentions of death

A/N: The amount of feedback I got from this was INSANE! Thank you so much!!! I promise there will be more azriel and reader coming! I don’t know how many parts there will be of this tbh so, don’t give up on me! I’ve never had to make a taglist so, pls be patient with me :) thanks again and sorry for the grammar mistakes!

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

‘’They teach you History in school, right?’’

‘’Yes.’’ Being used to talking about random stuff, your nephew continued to stuff his face with food.

‘’So, has someone ever died for upsetting, I-I don’t know, a high lord perhaps?’’

You hoped you were being nonchalant after asking, taking a sip of the drink your sister-in-law served with the meal. She rewarded you with a confused expression from across the table.

‘’Yes.’’

For the second time, you hoped your eyes didn’t show anything that you were feeling.

‘’Right…’’

‘’In Night Court, or actually, it might’ve been Autumn I can’t remember’’ He shrugged his little shoulders not thinking twice about the statement.

Not knowing that it was doing nothing to calm your nerves or fear. Which, thanks to your sister-in-law, dwindled down a bit after she reminded you that it was probably many many centuries ago where the males in higher positions were not the same ones that are now...well, at least in the Night Court.

‘’So, is there any reason you’re asking about high lords and their patience?’’

She asked after dinner was over and you were helping clean up, your nephew away in his room. And so, you told her everything. You were actually glad she was asking because you’ve been holding on to that information ever since the encounter with the Shadowsinger the day before.

After he left, physically at least because he was still very much popping up in your brain, Sabrina asked you a million questions about it but you were too shocked to explain the situation to her. She had asked again this morning but a rush of customers had walked in the shop, saving you from retelling the awkward encounter.

So really, you hadn’t told a single soul of what was going to happen in the next few days. You considered briefly speaking to your mother about it but you knew she wouldn’t be of help, instead you knew she would reprimand you for even being out with your friend on a Friday night.

‘’You’re not getting any younger now, Y/N. You have to start thinking about getting married and starting a family.’’ She always said.

Easy for her to say, she had no idea how hard it was to court someone these days. But you knew where she was coming from. There was a time when they thought there was all the time in the world for love, for a family but quickly after your brother died, it seemed like eternity was no longer secured, danger lurked in the corners, capable of snatching any one of us away without a second thought.

So yes, you understand that it’s her just worried that you were going to end up like your brother (dead) but worse because you hadn’t experience real love like he did. But truthfully, in your head, if you were going to die unexpectedly then it was better that you weren’t attached to someone. Why would you want them to go through that?

‘’I think they just want to talk about Velaris. You told them that Velaris needed them.’’

You scoffed ‘’Because it’s true, you know this.’’

‘’Yes but apparently they don’t. Which is why, I think you should go with a plan.’’

‘’A plan?’’

It ended up being more like a list (your brother would be proud). A list of all the troubles you knew some of your neighbours were experiencing, of some of the unsafe things you’ve observed while walking down the Sidra many times ago. A list of all the things they’ve missed while doing whatever it is that they do when there is not a war.

With this list, you will tell them just how much Velaris needs some reconstruction, some hope.

You had no idea if this was truly what they wanted from you but after being told 14 times that ‘’No, they’re not gonna kill you silently in a library’’, you figured it was better than going empty handed.

It makes sense, I guess, you thought the next day. The day before the meeting would take place. You edited the list about 4 times, erasing and adding, scratching and ‘’Should I put them in order of priority?’’ ‘’No, let them figure that out by themselves’’.

Every time you glanced at the list, you would remember the hazel eyes. Would he be there? Would Azriel think your list is stupid? Would he think you’re pathetic for entertaining the idea of the inner circle needing you? Would he stare at you like he did back in your office? A little bit of amusement in his beautiful eyes. Or would he not spare you a second glance? Protecting his high lord and lady from the crazy drunk female with a list.

All of these thoughts flying back and forth in your mind that night as you stared at your backyard in silence, a glass of wine in hand. In a couple of hours, you’d be making your way to The Library and Mother knows what will happen.

The backyard was a mess. Shortly after finding your job at the music shop, you found a nice little house with a big backyard.

‘’I’ll help you turn it into a nice patio where you can invite your friends and play some music out there’’. Your brother had said after you told him how you liked the house but the backyard was too big for you.

Over time, both of you had come up with a design plan of what to do with it, how to turn it around for you. In paper, it was a beautiful masterpiece and you couldn’t wait till it turned into reality. You bought the materials needed for it and waited for your brother so you could start together.

Years later, the materials still lay in the middle of the yard, waiting.

Hybern took your brother, your dreams and your backyard with it.

You knew you could hire someone to do it, honestly you knew you could it yourself (it would take time and lots of patience) or with your sister-in-law but…this was something you wanted to do with your brother. Picking up a single thing without him didn’t seem right.

Alas, your yard was a mess, leaving it like this didn’t also seem right (your neighbors would agree).

‘’Tomorrow’’ you whispered. Tomorrow you would start fixing it, you had to.

If you survived that meeting, there was no way you were going to keep leaving it like a mess. And as you continued to ponder, this whole encounter with the inner circle struck you with one thing.

After the war, they had moved on but not you. For them, life kept going but you, you were stuck. And your backyard was proof of that.

You were not going to stand by that anymore, you were going to fix it.

And so the next morning, you told Sabrina to take over the shop for a few hours and made your way to The Library. During the walk, you hyped yourself up with some words of affirmation you read about in a book once, back when the wound of losing your brother was still fresh and there were no healers available to talk about your pain. You indulged in self-help books, not that they made a huge difference but it was something.

You’re strong (sometimes).

You’re capable of doing amazing things (chaotic ones too apparently).

You matter (we’ll see how much to these faes, really).

Unknowingly to you, you failed to notice you were being followed. Tendrils of shadows following your every move as you made your way to the meeting.

Shadows that were reporting back to their master, who was at The Library waiting for your arrival.

Nervous. Nervous.

They whispered to him. And quietly to himself, Azriel chuckled. He figured you would be. If your encounter with him would be an indication of how this meeting will go, he knew one thing for sure: you were going to be terrified, but you weren’t going to back down.

He was impressed. Not a lot of things impressed him anymore, specially after everything he’s been through. Over the years, he has felt that his reputation and his true self blended into one another but not by choice.

He knew his job required it but his personal life? He didn’t want his reputation to dictate that as well. And in his opinion, he had made a good job with it well until the Archeron sisters stumbled into their lives. Now, to be quite frankly with himself, sometimes Azriel felt like he didn’t even know who he was anymore.

Kind? Yes, he was kind with his family, with the people who he walked by on the streets (they fear him, so he tries his best okay).

Serious? Yes, sometimes. There’s always a time and place for it.

Funny? He wasn’t a complete goofball like Cassian but he had a sense of humor.

Compassionate? He takes care and protects his family and his court. He makes sure they have everything they need, so yes, he is very compassionate.

But Rhysand and Cassian had all of those qualities as well, so really, what made him…him? What made Azriel, Azriel?

It drove him mad. How is it that he’s a 500+year old male and he is questioning these things? How did he let himself go so easily? Was it after or before Under The Mountain? After or before Rhys and Cassian met their mates? After he struggled to find his?

Here. Here.

The shadows whispered.

Finally, you made it.

Looking over at Rhys and Feyre who were chatting quietly to each other in the room, he spoke ‘’She’s here.’’

It was Feyre who smiled, a bit nervous but said ‘’I’ll get her’’. Giving her mate a quick kiss, she left the room leaving him with Rhysand and Cassian.

The three males looked at each other. Cassian with a smirk on his face, excited for the meeting. He was looking forward to seeing the female who had pointed a finger at his superiors and told them off without looking back. ‘’Reminds me of Nes’’, he had said.

Rhys had his ‘’I’m a not a mean high lord’’ face or trying to at least. He wanted the meeting to go well, for Feyre and Velaris’ sake. The thought that he wasn’t doing a good job to protect and take care of this city, one of the most important things in his life, his freaking job; had frightened him.

There were very few times in his life where he had felt like that so intensely: after losing his mom and sister, when he got stuck UTM, losing Feyre to Tamlin, almost losing Feyre when she give birth, and now this. Failure scared the shit out of him.

Azriel knew this, he could see it in his eyes and that’s why he was, once again, impressed by you. You managed to do that, even if you didn’t know it.

‘’This way, this is one of the meeting rooms the Library has. We figured it was the most comfortable one.’’ They heard Feyre talking to you.

‘’Right’’. He wondered if you had bowed to her, he would’ve loved to see that.

He stood behind Rhys, Cassian on his other side and waited for the females to walk in. And just when they did, he struggled to keep his amused smile off his face.

You were trying to not look terrified, but they all knew you were. Your widened eyes taking everything in, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your long skirt, hair in a high ponytail just a bit ruffled, like you kept touching it out of habit and yet…you still managed to bring a smile on his face.

So pretty, he thought.

‘’High Lord’’ you quickly made a bow and were going to make another one to Azriel and Cassian when you were stopped.

‘’That’s not necessary. Come, sit. We’re glad to have you here.’’ Rhys said with an encouraging smile.

And so, it began.

It wasn’t what you excepted at all.

You thought there was going to be a big and long desk to create distance between you and them, perhaps big chairs for them to sit at while you had to stay standing at the other end of the room. Instead, this room was pretty…homey? Surrounded by many books, the room had a seating area that consisted of lounge chairs and a pretty looking comfortable sofa. Feyre said it was a meeting room but it just looked like a cozy reading room to you. There was no desk, just a coffee table in the middle.

This is not formal, you thought. This whole setting screamed ‘’We don’t want to scare you, lets just talk’’. And with that thought, you felt a bit (truly just a tiny bit) more relaxed as you took a seat in one of the chairs.

Rhysand and Feyre taking a seat on the sofa, Azriel and Cassian standing behind them (as if you were going to do anything to harm them, laughable really).

You finally looked at him, at Azriel. Your heart beating just a tad quicker when he looked at you back.

Those damn eyes of his, you thought.

‘’We invited you here because want to hear more of what you have to say’’

So, your sister-in-law was right then. But still, just to make sure, you asked:

‘’About?’’

Rhys turned to you then. ‘’About Velaris. You mentioned how we’ve failed to take care of the citizens of the city. Please, enlighten us.’’

Azriel stiffened a little at his tone. He continued to look at you, sending you what he hoped was an encouraging look. Don’t back out, he wanted to say.

You weren’t looking at him anymore though. Although his body language said otherwise, Rhys’ tone let you know just how serious this was to him.

Good.

With a nod, you cleared your throat and took out the list. ‘’Well, I made a list-‘’

Cassian couldn’t help himself and he laughed out loud but quickly recovered when he felt Rhys’ glare.

Meanwhile Feyre, sharing Cassian’s sentiment, smiled and said ‘’Perfect. Tell us everything.’’

You practiced what you were going to say, how you were going to say it, really you did but it all went out the window in that very second. They were all looking at you, waiting.

You tried to recover quickly, to try and forget about the fact of who were these faes, to tell yourself that this was just another yap session with Sabrina. Don’t back down, you can do this, you thought.

‘’This year will be the fifth year since we were attacked by Hybern.’’

Everyone stiffened. You continued:

‘’We never ever expected our city to get attacked, this was always such a safe space and after that it just didn’t feel the same.’’

‘’We fixed that quickly, placed more wards around the city ensuring safety for everyone’’ Rhys quickly defended.

‘’Yes but what about after?’’

Rhysand raised an eyebrow ‘’Compensation was given to those who lost homes and belongings, to rebuild what they lost’’.

‘’But you can’t buy grief.’’

Rhysand stopped his defensive stance and swallowed. Feyre placing a hand on his knee, never taking her eyes off you.

‘’You gave them money to buy to stuff, to fix stuff but what about our pain?’’ Shit, you didn’t want to make it personal.

‘’You expect us to get attacked and then continue like nothing happened. To go on with our days, pretending to be perfect. ‘’

And that was what truly bothered you out of everything, the list be damned. This, this is what made your blood boil like no other.

‘’ Velaris is the city of dreams, a safe haven right? Everyone should be happy, accomplished, grateful because we were safe from Aramantha right?’’

You failed to notice how their breaths faltered at that name, too riled up to notice.

‘’Don’t get me wrong, we are extremely grateful for that, that we didn’t experience that horror. But we experienced others and are we not allowed to cry? To grief?’’

‘’Of course you are!’’ Rhys, once again. This was extremely personal to him.

‘’It doesn’t feel like it! It’s been 5 years and not once has this city mourned what we’ve lost, the people we lost! It was swept under the rug, never to speak of again like it never happened. People feel like they cant talk about it, that we can’t complain about anything because it seems weak, because we’re meant to be the perfect little city that can do no wrong.’’

Cassian lowered his head, this isn’t what he was expecting to hear.

Azriel felt his heart hurt at every word you said, quickly trying to find solutions in his brain that could help with this.

‘’This is what I mean, you want us to continue to be a perfect Velaris but we will never be the same. We are not perfect!’’ Your heart was beating incredibly fast and hard, your face turning red with anger, despair, pain.

So much pain, you could feel it right now. All the emotions you had felt the second you saw your brother’s lifeless body came back to you. Because you had found him, under all the debris that had fallen after the attack where a building had fell on him. So much pain because he was taken away, his body just another number. His ashes given to you in a small urn because they couldn’t even give him a proper burial at a gravesite.

There were no goodbyes, no way to keep his memory alive. Those who knew him, sent you small smiles recognizing the pain your family was going through but that was it, no one had dared to speak about it. But you wanted to, you wanted everyone to remember the amazing male your brother was, that those who didn’t know him, would learn of all the cool things he had done.

But no one was talking about it, about the traumatic experience they all had gone through, and you didn’t understand why until you saw the High Lord shoving (figuratively speaking) money in their faces so they could buy what they needed.

And that’s fine, no one was complaining about that, but it felt like a slap in the face. It felt like a ‘’here, don’t talk about it and be done with it’’.

And you knew, you 100% knew that you weren’t the only one who felt that way.

No one spoke for what seemed like hours.

‘’Velaris needs more healers. Accessible healers that could help us beyond the physical’’.

Clearing her throat and straightening her posture, Feyre finally spoke up. ‘’Yes, I agree. We know who could help us with that.’’

‘’I’m sorry’’.

Your eyes widened once again, you couldn’t believe what had just left the high lord’s mouth.

‘’I’m sorry. I-‘’He stuttered, the freaking high lord stuttered. ‘’I didn’t know this is how you feel, I didn’t realize I was putting this pressure on my people.’’

He swallowed, you couldn’t look away from his stare. His violet eyes seemed darker with the sadness that was in them.

‘’You lost someone and I’m sorry’’

You never ever expected this to happen. You expected skepticism from them yes but an apology? It was years late and for some, might not mean shit but to you, to you it meant something. Even if this apology wouldn’t bring your brother back, it meant something.

Azriel looked at Rhys the second he apologized; he was also surprised at this. He knew how important this was to Rhys, it was important to him as well, if it involves Velaris, it concerns him as well. Therefore, he’s happy this is the approach Rhys is taking, he’s listening, and he knows he’ll do anything to make it right.

And so will he.

‘’Since it will be the fifth year, I reckon there should finally be a Remembrance Day. A day to remember all the lives that were lost in Velaris. We should honor them, grieve and celebrate their memories.’’

Were you hallucinating? Did your heart beat so fast it made you start hearing things or did that really come out of Rhysand’s mouth?

Feyre looked at his mate, a proud smile, soft gaze on her face. She squeezed his knee and looked back at you. ‘’I agree. Will you help us to make it happen?’’

Azriel was one second away from picking you up and taking you to a healer. Your face had gone from red, to stricken white to red once again. He was sure your blood pressure was going through it, your expressions not hiding anything.

‘’Me?’’ you whispered. They wanted to work with you? They wanted you to help them?

Rhysand smiled, his charming ways coming out. ‘’Absolutely, who else?’’

An olive branch. They were trying, they wanted to fix it. They wanted to hear everything you had to say, to go item by item of your list and come up with solutions.

You don’t know how this was going to play out, how it was going to freaking work but you figured that if you’ve gone all the way to speak your heart and mind, you couldn’t back out now.

You were going to do it for Velaris, for your brother.

Azriel knew the minute you made your decision, he could see the determination on your face and he smiled, a true smile. He decided then that he would make sure you had anything you need, whatever thing you wanted, he would for you.

He was going to do it for his court, for his people.

And if it meant he would get to see you more often then, he wasn’t going to pass up that opportunity as well.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel x y/n #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel one shot #azriel fluff #azriel angst #azriel acotar #azriel series #azriel fic

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