#and history never truly remembered her
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I'm re-reading Priory of the Orange Tree (a bi-yearly tradition at this point) and without fail, this is me every time Glorian Shieldheart is mentioned
#i just loved her a lot#i related to her the most out of every roots of chaos character#she just felt so human so real#and history never truly remembered her#her life would never be told in its entirety and the inys will forever worship a false narrative of her#and to me that is so tragic#glorian shieldheart#the priory of the orange tree#priory of the orange tree#samantha shannon#roots of chaos
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gonna tag ramble about shivers
#so i've been thinking more about shivers being connected to the pale#and paying more attention to joyce's dialogue i do think there are moments it happens to her but she's good at hiding it#and the paledriver experiences it pretty explicitly#and like... thinking about the times where you have the strongest connection with shivers#almost all of them are near the church#on the dance floor#the feld building#the coat#my current theory is that shivers is connected to the pale and is a result of overexposure#it functions in a similar way to how the pale will plant random memories in your head#it's like the pale is imprinted in a person's brain after exposure and they can never truly escape it#and it allows them to pick up on the memories of the places around them#shivers is less seeing something than it is remembering something#the voice of the city is the collective memory of all the people who have ever lived there and will ever live there#it's so thick with history that it almost forms a mind of its own#and carrying the pale with you is how you commune with it#shrugs tho it's just the thoughts i've been having abt it lately i could be completely wrong#which is why this is a tag ramble and not a post lol#but i do at the very least feel relatively confident in saying that shivers comes from the pale#it speaks
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The moon and his sun (Part III)
Aemond Targaryen x female reader
Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.
Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.
Word count: 10.1 K
Warnings: Whole lotta smut in the beginning, secret relationship, Aegon being an ass
Part 1 Part 2 Part 4
~~
The two of them quickly became insatiable.
Aemond soon forgot what his life was like before he had tasted her, before he had heard the sweet sounds of her pleasure, before he had felt the velvet perfection of her walls hugging his cock.
He had thought he had bewitched him as children, but now, he knew he was truly under her spell.
He spent every waking moment finding excuses to find her in any dark corner he could, spending every spare moment reveling in the bliss her open arms provided.
Their afternoons together in the library were now spent with her bent over the table, his punishing hips leaving him to cover her mouth with his hand, his head buried in her shoulder to smother his own noises of ecstasy as they succumbed to their pleasure.
Every feast was cut short as they slithered away from the prying eyes of the crowd, ending up in the secret halls to find solitude, her legs wrapped around his lithe waist as he pressed her against the hard stone wall behind her, her moans flowing freely as he fucked her hard.
He was completely uninhibited, his own groans of pleasure filling the space, her name tumbling from his lips, his head spinning as he thrust inside her with an urgency unknown to him. He never thought he’d be this unhinged, this crazed, but it was what she did to him.
He watched eagerly, as her eyes rolled back, her lips parted with each of her beautiful noises of bliss. He couldn’t believe that he was the one to do this to her. He watched, his eye wide with wonder as he brought her to a leg-shaking peak, his name yelled out into the empty halls, like she couldn't get enough.
He couldn't believe he was lucky enough to be with her like this, to hold her and touch her until she cried in the most beautiful way possible.
He never wanted to stop, he never wanted his time with her to end.
He was eager to take whatever time with her he could.
His hours of training were cut short when he spotted her on the balcony, the sight of her playful smirk all he needed to be swayed, practically tossing his sword down as he gave Ser Criston a flimsy excuse before leaving abruptly.
She’d be waiting for him in his chambers, the laces of her corset already undone. It would take little effort to rip the rest away.
He learned to savor her, despite the fire that raged through him every time he touched her soft skin, he learned he loved taking his time with her. He loved to bury his face between her thighs, tasting her sweet nectar, feeling her writhe under him, her lovely cries echoing through his room as he brought her to climax over and over again.
He loved the way her fingers tangled and pulled at his hair, he loved watching her back arch off his sheets, how her breasts heaved with each of her panting breaths and whining cries.
But most of all, he loved when she moaned his name.
Whether it was with his fingers, his tongue, or his hard cock that pounded into her relentlessly, he would do whatever it took to make her scream his name.
But his love was an explorer, it was in her nature.
He shouldn’t have been surprised when she flipped the script on him.
He had just brought her to a third, leg-quivering peak with his tongue, when her moans turned to laughs, the mischief twinkling in her eyes, stirring his desire even further, his cock so hard he was practically throbbing under her gaze.
She flipped him to his back as if he weighed nothing. He had watched, entranced by the goddess in his bed as she climbed atop him. He let out a loud, keening cry as she sank down on him.
She wasted no time, not one to deny her darling Aemond his pleasure, as she grinded against him rhythmically, her head falling back to her shoulders, her panting breaths growing louder as she rode him with fervor.
Though it was no match for the noises coming from her lover below her.
She had never taken control like this and it was driving him insane. His hands clutched to her hips desperately, his eye glassy as he watched her divine body atop him, her hips moving with a fierceness that left him breathless.
Each slam of her hips against his choked a cry out of him, sounding more desperate with each brutal thrust of her punishing yet perfect hips.
He had never experienced anything like it before.
It was easy to lose control with her. Only a few moments later, his body stiffened, his head thrown back onto the pillow below him, a loud cry of ecstasy escaping him as his back arched, his body writhing beneath her.
She laughed in delight, pride coursing through her at the pleasure she was able to pull from a dragon, a god amongst men.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- fuck.” He panted, throwing his arm over his eyes as he fought to catch his breath, his pulse pounding in his ears, stars bursting behind his closed eye.
She giggled and leaned down, beginning to plant kisses across his heaving chest.
“We’re doing that again.” She crooned, making him groan, both in delight and agony.
“I’ll need a minute before I can feel my legs.” He laughed.
Neither one of them could fathom the bliss they found together.
They couldn’t get enough.
A loud rumble of thunder woke her one morning, a soft moan sounding as she stretched, a smile coming to her lips as she felt a blissful ache between her legs. Her face twisted with sleepy confusion as her foot nudged against something solid under her sheets and she soon became aware of the arm that lay over her waist.
She looked over her shoulder, both delight and fear coming to her in an instant.
While she was beyond happy to wake up beside her love, to have been wrapped in his arms the entire night, they were playing a dangerous game and they couldn’t give the maids any reason to spread gossip.
“Aemond.” She groaned tiredly, pushing at his shoulder to wake him.
He let out a low noise of discontent as he was woken from his sleep. His arm tightened around her and he nuzzled in closer to her, burying his face in the crook of her neck, placing sweet kisses that made her insides flutter.
“You weren’t supposed to stay the night.”
He would hold her as she fell into her slumber, but was always cautious enough to leave while it was still dark, ending up in his own bed before the sun rose and the members of the Keep woke.
“I couldn’t help it.” He spoke, his voice raspy with sleep, stirring desire within her. “You looked so beautiful while you slept, I couldn’t bear to leave your side.”
She rolled her eyes as a soft laugh escaped her.
“You’re still such a charmer.”
“Only for you, my love.” He crooned and titled her chin towards him so he could kiss her properly.
They both quickly lost themselves to their desires. No care was given to the fact that others would be awakening, that an entire world existed outside the bed, an outside world that could destroy them.
None of it seemed to matter to them.
Aemond had kissed her until they were breathless then turned her onto her stomach and hauled her to her hands and knees. Their shared moans as he sank into her were loud, much louder than he would’ve been comfortable with this time of day if had any sense left to give.
His hips moved with precision, thrusting his cock inside her with growing need, as if it wasn’t enough, as if he needed to be closer to her still. Even inside her, it wasn’t enough.
He gripped her hips tightly, his eyes shut tightly as the pleasure overtook him. His panting breaths grew louder, his desire growing with each passing second, every one of her whining moans and pleas lighting his body with a fire that was becoming all too familiar with her.
He growled as she bounced her hips back onto him, his blunt nails scratching at her skin, his jaw falling slack with a loud moan, their morning love making quickly turning into something much more animalistic and desperate than either had intended.
It was so unlike what their usual early morning rendezvous were. There were no quiet, shared kisses or gentle wandering hands that carressed and worshiped every inch of each other.
“Aemond!” She cried out, her head dropping between her arms, her voice growing raspy as her cries became louder, only encouraging his flaming lust.
He grunted and quickened his pace, the headboard beginning to slam against the wall behind the bed, his moans becoming louder, suddenly thankful for the raging storm outside that provided cover for their noise.
“That’s it, love, just like that.” He growled, his resolve slipping from him faster than he could recognize.
Her moans became louder, sending goosebumps across his skin.
“Come for me, my love.”
His growled words were all she needed to bring her close to her end. With only a few swipes of his fingers against his clit, his expert hands knowing exactly how to play her, like a musician with their treasured instrument, she was helpless against his touch.
She shuddered under him, a cry of his name ripped from her throat as he brought her to her peak. Her sweet sounding whines echoed throughout the room.
Aemond grit his teeth, the tightening around his cock forcing him to lose all sense of control. He pounded into her relentlessly, cursing and grunting as he fucked her like an animal, as if she wasn’t the most precious thing to him.
A string of Valyrian left him, cursing the power her body held over his own and praying to never lose her devotion all at once. A loud shout left him as he came, his body tingling with ecstasy as he practically collapsed against her, his limbs left feeling weak, his entire body spent, his mind spinning.
“Fuck.” He whispered breathlessly, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. “You are perfection, issa prūmia.”
They were both trembling and aching, reeling with bliss, pleasure ringing in their ears.
“You should go before my maids come.” She said, her voice still breathless and raspy from the cries he had pulled from her.
“One more minute.” He mumbled, moving with a groan to lay beside her and quickly gathering her into his arms.
He kissed the top of her head, letting his eye fall closed, taking in the peaceful final moments he would get with her until the cover of night.
They both found it difficult to hide what was between them. The smiles they shared as they passed each other would be subject to scrutiny now that they were no longer children. The time they spent together, while not unusual, was looked at with a cautious lens, the Lords and Ladies of the court whispering about their closeness.
It was hell to pretend they were still nothing more than childhood friends.
The days spent in the garden, surrounded by curious eyes looking for gossip were torture for them both. Aemond longed to reach out to her, to brush the hair from her face the wind would carry. He longed to take her hand in his, he longed to sit closer, to feel her body against his. He longed to kiss her after each sweet nothing she cheekily dared to whisper in the broad daylight.
But they would never risk what they had.
Though there was nothing they could do about the rumors that spread about the way they looked at each other.
There was nothing they could do about the love that lingered in their gazes towards each other.
Whispers of an impending betrothal were all the court could talk about. Even with the fierce scowls Aemond sent to the groups of whispering Ladies, it did little to stop the incessant gossiping.
It soon reached the ears of the Master of Coin. The Lord of Ixtal hadn’t exactly been shocked when he heard the rumors, he was only confused as to why his own daughter hadn’t disclosed anything to him.
He knew about her friendship with Aemond, but she had never told him of any deeper feelings. He sought her out one night after dinner with the King.
He was making his way to his daughter’s chambers when he caught sight of her roaming the halls just a few turns from her room.
“Darling?” He called out to her, causing her to stop in her tracks, a brief look of horrified shock crossing her features before she quickly schooled her expression. “Where are you headed to at this hour?”
She panicked internally for a brief moment, as if her father could know with one mere look at her that she was headed to find her secret lover to do things their Septa’s from years past would have lashed them for.
“I was going to say goodnight to Helaena’s twins. I promised I would read them a bedtime story.” The lie fell from her tongue too easily, her stomach twisting with nerves as her father eyed her carefully, as if catching onto her lie.
He nodded slowly and she had to force herself not to breathe out dramatically in relief that her cover story had been solid enough.
“Why don’t we break our fast together tomorrow? I feel as though I’ve scarcely seen you as of late.”
She nodded eagerly, desperate to be out from under his gaze, no matter how innocent it was. The guilt she felt along with the enormous secret she harbored was enough to drive her to insanity.
“I’ll see tomorrow, Darling.”
“Goodnight.” She spoke swiftly, pressing a quick kiss to her father’s cheek and sidestepping him, continuing on her path down the hall, taking a sharp left towards Helaena’s chambers instead of the right turn that would’ve taken her to the library where Aemond was waiting for her.
She entered the Princess’ chambers, giving her friend a warm smile.
“Hello.” Helaena greeted her happily. “I wasn’t expecting you here tonight.”
She shrugged, attempting to not let her anxieties show.
“I haven’t seen you much today. I thought I should stop in to say goodnight.” She took a seat next to her friend, smiling softly at the children at her feet playing with their toys.
“Was Aemond not available?”
She blanched, Helaena’s blunt words striking fear within her like an arrow. Her wide eyed stare met her friend’s unwaveringly calm smile.
“We- Aemond and I-”
“You make him happy.” Helaena spoke warmly, her attention moving back to the embroidery in her hands, as if she hadn’t just shaken her friend to her core. “I’m glad he found you before it was too late.”
She gaped at the Princess. It wasn’t unusual for Helaena to speak things that made little sense to others or things so mysterious it left a chill down your spine, but this was something else entirely.
She cleared her throat and turned her attention to the twins, asking if they would like to hear a bedtime story. She could at least follow through with her lie to her father. She spent the next twenty minutes corralling the quiet children to their beds, her heart bursting with love as they watched her eagerly, hanging onto her every word as she told them tales of her home, of the beautiful animals that lived in the jungles of Ixtal.
She pictured herself, sometime in the future, telling tales to her own children who had heads of silver hair just as their father did. The thought made her heart leap excitedly.
Once the children were tucked into bed, fully satisfied with her many stories, she felt Helaena’s hand on her shoulder, a touched twinkle in her eyes.
“He’ll be waiting for you.”
The Princess’ whispered words said much more than anyone else could comprehend. Her insinuated approval, that she knew just how much her brother meant to her, had a weight leaving her shoulders she didn’t even know had been holding her down.
No matter what Helaena knew of what she had with Aemond, she approved and that was all that mattered.
With a parting kiss to Helaena’s cheek, she left her chambers, heading back to her own, wondering what she’d tell Aemond of his sister’s strange words.
She stepped into her chambers, her heart jumping at the sight of a figure by her window. She placed a hand over her chest, whispering a quiet curse as she quickly recognized the silver hair that gleamed in the moonlight.
“Gods, don’t do that. You scared me.” She spoke quietly, looking behind her to ensure the door was closed behind her.
Aemond was stepping towards her in an instant, his face hardened slightly.
“What happened? Are you alright?”
She let out a long breath, holding onto his arms that wound around her waist.
“I’m fine.”
“You didn’t show, I thought…” He trailed off, his eye alight with uncertainty that made her chest ache.
She reached out, her hand resting at his cheek, the affectionate gesture making his tense body relax. She didn’t understand how after so many years of friendship and weeks of making love he still could have doubts for what her heart longed for.
“I ran into my father.” She explained to him. “I thought he might be suspicious, so I went to Helaena’s room. I didn’t want him to follow me straight to you. God’s if he had caught us-” She stopped abruptly, shivering at the thought.
Aemond blew out a breath, a guise of laughter.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting or to make you worry.”
He just shook his head, looking back at her with reverence, as if he could finally be at ease now he was gazing upon her.
His arms tightened around her, his closeness making her smile, though it was strained. She thought of her father, the awkwardness their interaction held, something that had never existed with him.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Aemond asked, sensing the turmoil within her, looking at her with concern.
“I hate lying to him.”
Aemond sighed, he didn’t exactly have the same reservations about lying to his family like she had, he certainly didn’t have the love and affection for his father that she had with her own, but he saw how it ate away at her.
“I know, my love.”
They both knew they couldn’t risk what they had getting ripped away from them. On a good day, the only thing the King seemed to remember was his first daughter. They couldn’t take a request to him, not while Otto pulled the strings.
Aemond gathered her into his arms, holding her tightly as they both longed for a day where they didn’t have to hide.
~~
In an effort to keep up appearances, they decided to put some distance between them, at least while in public. At the feast for the Queen’s nameday, she didn’t sit next to him or his family, she didn’t dance with him, though that was not a common event now that they were no longer children.
Aemond sat at the head table, a permanent scowl etched on his face.
He watched with barely contained resentment the crowd that had gathered around her and her father. The Lord of Ixtal was too charismatic for his own good. Any Lord and their son that greeted the revered Master of coin soon turned their attention to his beloved daughter, offering well wishes and not so subtle inquiries into her eligibility for marriage.
Aemond couldn’t stand it.
He was powerless to do anything but watch. He noticed the way she would shift uncomfortably in her seat under the compliments bestowed upon her. He wanted nothing more than to march straight to her, take her hand and whisk her away from it all.
Proprietary be damned, he couldn’t take it anymore.
His leg bounced beneath the table, every inch of him portraying how much he hated every part of the celebration. He took a long swig of his wine, wincing slightly at the taste. He thanked the Gods every day that he never achieved his brother’s proclivities for the drink, but he didn’t think he could endure the rest of the night without something to dull his senses.
His eyes fell to her table once more and suddenly sat up straighter when his gaze locked onto hers. The small smile she sent him, the noticeable annoyance on her face that conveyed she hated this just as much as he did, made his lips twitch upwards.
His entire demeanor changed. With just one look at her, the scowl on his face eased, no longer the look of pure dread and contempt.
Though it did not last long.
He surveyed the crowd of dancing couples, an inkling of shame creeping upon him as he thought of how long it had been since he had danced with his love. It had been years, surely. He had outgrown the childish act, but he couldn’t help but long for those nights of innocent twirling, remembering how he had never laughed as hard as when they were hand in hand, spinning around the room like the two care-free children they had been.
The good feeling in his heart crumbled instantly as he noticed her familiar head of hair among the crowd. A strange, clenching feeling unfurled in his stomach as he leaned forward, internally cursing the other couples that were in his line of sight.
As the couples twirled in their practiced steps, she was revealed, hand in hand with Jasper Wylde’s son, locked in an embrace as they danced.
Something within Aemond sparked, a certain kind of rage he hadn’t felt in a long time. His fists clenched, his jaw tightening as his teeth grinded, growing angrier with each second he watched her dance with that fool.
It didn’t matter that she had no beaming smile to give, that there was no affection within her eyes, that she moved stiffly and mechanically. Aemond didn’t seem to notice any of it, all he could comprehend was that his love was in another man’s arms, dancing with him the way he refused to, the way he couldn’t under the prying eyes of the court.
It was the moment the Wylde son leaned in, whispering something in her ear, his lips so close to hers, that he knew he had reached his limit. He had to leave before he made an enemy of the Master of Law by murdering his son.
He stood from his chair and made his way out of the room with a determination that left many to give the feared Prince a wide berth. It wasn’t uncommon to see the one-eyed Prince stomp away in a fury, but it still struck fear into the hearts of those who were in his path.
He made his way into his chambers, his body thrumming with an energy so volatile, so uncomfortable, he contemplated dragging Ser Criston out to the training yard so he could take a few whacks at him to unleash his anger.
He breathed deeply, his hands clenching onto the back of a chair, his head hanging as the blood in his veins sung with the desire to enact violence, to prove to everyone that they couldn’t take what was his, that they shouldn’t dare to try to take his love away from him.
The sound of his door opening had him flinching, quickly turning on his heel, ready to strike at anyone who would be daft enough to disturb him. His shoulders slumped at the sight of her, the knowing look on her face forcing him to release a long breath, his fury brimming to a petty anger he wouldn’t be quick to part ways with.
“What are you doing here?”
She wanted to roll her eyes at his tone. “I saw you storm out.”
“I’m surprised you noticed. You looked rather busy with that Lord leeching off you.”
She shouldn’t have been surprised her night would turn to this. She knew what she was in for the second the man asked her for a dance.
“He asked me to dance in front of his father and mine. I couldn’t very well say no.”
“No?”
“Aemond.” She admonished impatiently. “The entire reason we stayed apart tonight was to quiet the rumors. You know what would happen if I refused to dance with him, what everyone would say.”
“I think you’re giving the court too much credit.”
The words, one she had said to him all those weeks ago, when he was the one worried about appearances, now thrown back at her made her want to grab his arms and shake him until that complicated brain of his rattled around enough to find some sense.
She breathed deeply, forcing herself to stay calm because it was clear the man before her would not be exercising the same caution.
Stepping towards him, she took her hands in his, speaking his name softly when he refused to look at her.
“After all this time, do you truly still not see it?”
His eyes drifted to hers slowly, the gesture almost meek, so unlike the fierce dragon rider she knew him to be. She reached out, taking his face in her hands and leaned forward, placing a kiss to the patch that covered his sapphire eye.
The gesture disarmed him completely, the anger pulled out of him as swiftly as a sword exits the body in a fateful final move.
He let out a shuddering breath, his hands finding their home on her waist. He looked at her, his gaze now sheepish, embarrassed that he had directed his anger towards her, the only one who never deserved it.
“You are the only man I want.” She assured him. “No matter who I dance with, no matter who engages me with petty conversations, they will never be the one who has my heart. I only think of you.”
“There are others you’ve danced with?”
The smirk on his face, the assurance the comment was made without anger and purely to poke at her in a way only he could, made her laugh, the sound making him smile. She pushed at his chest.
“You are insufferable.”
He wrapped his arms around her tighter, keeping her pressed against him as she weakly struggled against his embrace, her laughter constant. Her giggles soon turned to shrieks of delight as he began to press playful kisses down the length of her neck.
He felt healed by the sound, with the feel of her in his arms, right where she should be. She was the only one he could be this way with, she was the only who accepted him as he was.
He leaned into her, ceasing his teasing kisses, the look in his eye more serious as he gazed at her lovingly.
“I don’t think there are enough words in any language to tell you how much I love you.” He told her.
“I know the feeling.”
The admiration, the pure love in her eyes melted him from the inside out. He couldn’t waste another second and crashed his lips to hers, content to never leave the haven that was her kiss for the rest of the night.
He was still amazed by her ability to calm him, to soothe every negative feeling within him, even after all these years.
His time spent with her was his only reprieve from the things in his life he despised.
He had come to her chambers one afternoon, particularly eager, his emotions running high after a gathering with his family. She wasn’t sure if it had been his mother’s incessant ramblings of Rhaenyra’s negligence, his grandsire’s continued lectures about his duty and his need to marry soon, his father’s dismissiveness, or if it were Aegon’s general presence that put him in such a mood, she didn’t have time to ask before he was ravishing her thoroughly.
It was only until their sweat-slicked bodies cooled, their limbs tangled together beneath her disarrayed sheets, her head rested on his chest as his hand ran gently through her hair, did she finally see him relaxed once more.
“Do you ever think about leaving?” She asked suddenly, prompting Aemond to chuckle.
“Was my performance not satisfactory, love? You wish to exile me?”
She laughed and looked up at him pointedly.
“I think it was quite obvious what I thought of your performance.”
The scratches down his back would certainly be proof of her enjoyment.
“I meant leaving King’s Landing, exploring a new part of the world.”
Aemond remained quiet for a moment, contemplating her words. He didn’t know how to respond so he settled for a half-hearted shrug.
“Why do you ask?”
“You seem restrained here.” She answered quietly, worrying she was tiptoeing into dangerous territory. She didn’t want to push him but it killed her to see his light dim in the presence of his family.
Whenever they would pass each other in the halls of the Keep they had loving smiles to share, delighted by the secret they kept from the rest of the them, but whenever she crossed his path while he was with him mother or his grandsire, he didn’t spare her a look, his face drawn tightly with a coldness that, while characteristic around others, was so unfamiliar to her.
Aemond didn’t like to talk about his family, he seemed to always steer the conversation in a different direction whenever she probed and tensed whenever they were brought up, changing the easy nature between them into something more complicated.
He stayed quiet, taking in her words contemplatively, his mind swirling with waves of thoughts he couldn’t quite make sense of.
His feelings for his family were complicated. He was devoted to them, he would protect them when it came down to it, but he couldn’t exactly say he was happy with them or felt very loved by them.
“We should live in Ixtal.”
She looked up at him curiously, not having expected those words. He looked down at her, a small smile growing, his arm around her tightening.
“Once we’re married, we’ll abandon the delirious politics here and we’ll move to Ixtal where we’ll grow old and raise our children.”
She smiled, the fantasy he had created sounding more like a dream than any sort of reality they could manage for themselves.
She couldn’t think that far ahead, not when they couldn’t even hold hands in front of others.
“That sounds lovely.” She mused quietly, holding tightly to his words, praying they would one day come true.
~~
“Do not be mad.”
Her first words in greeting immediately had him on edge, the soft expression that had appeared at the sight of her twisting into one of derision in a swift moment. The moment she stepped into the library, a place that had now become an excuse for him to take her between the shelves, he perked up, but the hesitancy on her face had him pausing, suddenly fearing the worst.
“Why would I be mad?”
“I have something to tell you and you have to promise me you will not resort to bloodshed.”
His look of confusion only grew, his nerves rising as he stood from his seat, walking towards her cautiously.
“Bloodshed?” He questioned, his voice becoming darker at the mere notion of a threat against her. “Has someone done something to you?”
She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at his blatant protectiveness and reached out, taking his hand in hers in an effort to calm him.
“You have a tendency to rage before an explanation can be given so you must promise me you won’t draw your sword before I’ve finished my story.”
“My love, you know I can make no promises.”
With a heavy sigh, her hand remaining in his, her fingers gently tracing over his knuckles, as if her soothing touch could sate him while she gave him the news that would undoubtedly spring him into a furious temper.
“Elric Wylde has requested my presence in the gardens. My father told me he wishes to start a courtship.”
The scoff that left his lips made her wince. She had never before heard such derision from a simple sound.
“You are jesting, aren’t you?”
“Aemond-”
“I know there is no possible way you would agree to court someone else.” He continued, his voice laced with jealous disdain.
“Aemond-” She tried again but he continued to rant, pulling his hand from hers, his face now dark with dangerous intent.
“Where is the Wylde Lord? I’ll be sure to set him straight and tear his limbs from his body before he has the chance to put his hands on you again.”
“Stop.” She spoke sternly, grabbing onto his arm before he could leave her side and murder the poor boy who naively thinks he has a chance with her. “I am not going to let him court me.”
“No, you’ll just string him along so he thinks he had a chance.”
“I will meet with him once and then tell my father I don’t wish to continue, putting the matter to rest for good.”
“Tell your father now that you don’t wish to court him.”
“He’ll get suspicious if I keep refusing to meet with eligible Lords. He’ll begin to think I want to become a Septa if I continue to avoid any notion of marriage.”
Aemond’s grave expression didn’t waver. His eyes moved back to the door, as if conjuring ways he could butcher the clueless Wylde son.
“Aemond…” She warned, the look on his face igniting her worry. She knew he would be thinking of anything but helpful suggestions.
“I’ll tell the prick myself. He’ll be sure to understand then.”
She gripped onto his arm tighter, stopping him from taking another step.
“Don’t be daft.” She scolded. “You know the gossip that would ensue if you got involved.”
“You are not meeting with him.” Aemond said sternly to which she just rolled her eyes.
“It will only be for a few minutes. I’ll immediately go to my father to refuse any further advances and we’ll be done with it.”
“Until the next one comes along to vie for your hand.”
“We’ll deal with it when it comes to that, if you haven’t already murdered the entire pool of eligible bachelors.”
Aemond’s brow perked up at the notion. It wasn’t a bad suggestion. She playfully smacked his chest.
“Stop that.”
His jaw clenched, his anger simmering within him. The thought of her arm in arm with another man, the poor fool that would be drooling over her, thinking he had a chance, made him furious.
“When are you meeting with this imbecile?”
She gave him a pointed look at his insult. “In twenty minutes.”
Aemond smirked, the look in his eye darkening, though in a much different way than it had before. The lust that overtook his gaze made her shiver.
“He can wait.”
With that, he crashed his lips to hers and dragged her to the back of the library, their hidden alcove they had desecrated many a time before.
No less than forty minutes later, after Aemond had thoroughly fucked her like an animal and her desperate attempts to straighten her appearance, did she finally meet Lord Elric Wylde in the gardens.
She hoped she wasn’t walking funny as a result of Aemond’s brutal thrusts that had rendered her a moaning, mindless fool.
“My Lady.” He greeted her politely, offering his arm to her, which she accepted, no matter how wrong it felt.
As they began to walk, she steadily ignored the feeling of her lover’s seed that dripped down her thigh.
She forced her mind to move on from the memory of his debauched touches and greedy lips that traveled across every inch of her body and looked to the man beside her, suddenly realizing he was looking at her questioningly.
Her eyes widened as she realized she hadn’t been listening to a word he had said.
“What?”
He laughed slightly. “I asked how your day was.”
“Oh.” She giggled, hoping he couldn’t tell how embarrassed she was. “It’s been fine.”
“I admit, my day is much brighter now that I am in your company.”
She smiled stiffly. She couldn’t find it in herself to force anything more genuine.
They continued to walk throughout the gardens and she was thankfully able to remain half-listening as the eager Lord mostly spoke about himself and didn’t bother to ask her any further questions.
She settled for mindless hums in agreement to whatever he had been spouting on about.
As they turned the corner, she suddenly stopped in her tracks as she met Aemond’s cool eye from across the path.
He smirked at her, the sight causing a blooming heat to burn inside her. She was suddenly more aware of the seed that dripped down her leg.
By the look in his eye and the devilish smirk across his lips it was obvious he was thinking about the same thing.
“Is everything ok?”
She cleared her throat and forced herself to keep walking.
“Yes, everything's fine.” She spoke slightly tersely, completely thrown off by Aemond’s presence. They continued on their way and she silently prayed her lover’s fierce jealousy wouldn’t rear its ugly head.
“My Lord.”
She winced, silently cursing the man she loved and his petty nature.
“Prince Aemond.” Elric greeted, his tone sounding slightly cautious as he came face to face with the feared Prince.
“I am terribly sorry to interrupt, but I heard your father had something urgent to discuss with you.”
“My father?” Elric questioned.
“Yes, he needs to see you in the council room.”
The young Lord looked confused, only inciting Aemond’s frustration further.
“Quickly, my Lord. You mustn't keep your father waiting.” He added forcefully.
The Lord swallowed, his face blanching at the abrupt tone and looked to the Lady beside him, too flustered to notice the scowl she was sending the Prince.
“Of course.” He bowed to both of them respectfully and grabbed her hand, thankfully not noticing how Aemond twitched, having to stop himself from lunging forward and ripping his hand from her.
“I will find you again, my Lady, so we can continue.”
“Of course.” She said stiffly, her smile terse.
As the Lord scurried away, she moved her gaze to Aemond, the smug smirk on his face made her want to rage yet laugh all at once.
“You have some nerve.” She muttered and turned on her heel, though Aemond was quick to follow, falling into step beside her. “You said you would leave it be.”
“I agreed to let you meet with him, I made no such promise about what I would do after.”
“Aemond, people will talk about us and your attempts at derailing a courtship.”
“Let them talk. I’ll gladly have them answer to Vhagar.”
She rolled her eyes and subtly elbowed him in his side, delighting in the breathless wheeze that left his lips.
He reached out, linking his arm through hers before she could leave his side.
“I had to rescue you from such boredom, my love.” He spoke softly.
She looked over at him plainly, knowing he would have found any excuse to ruin her time with any man that dared to think they had a chance with her.
“And what will you do when the poor boy realizes his father did not summon him?”
“If he dares to call me a liar I’ll meet him with my sword.”
She shook her head, though she shouldn’t have been in much disbelief. This was Aemond, he was nothing if not possessive of what he cherished.
Aemond smirked and leaned in closer so his lips brushed against her ear.
“Do you really think I would let another man touch what is mine?” He practically growled. “Tell me, do you think he could tell from your raspy voice that I just had you screaming for my cock?”
She felt a shiver race down her spine, her thighs clenching together at the memory of his devastating touch on her. She pulled her arm from his and turned to face him, delighting in the way his eye darkened with anticipation.
She smirked and took a step backwards, her gaze remaining on him as if keeping him locked into her trance as she walked away.
“Where are you going?” He asked breathlessly.
“To tell my father I don’t wish to court Elric Wylde.”
Aemond grinned triumphantly, his blood thrumming in his veins with blinding desire.
“And then?”
“I think I’ll head back to the library. There’s a particular book I'd like to read again.” She crooned, the sultry smile on her lips stirring his lust, quickly feeling himself hardening at the insinuation of another round with her before the day was done.
“I will see you there.” Aemond called back and tried with all his might not to sprint to the library to wait for her.
~~
Aegon tripped over his own right foot, forcing himself to lean on the stone wall beside him as he drunkenly made his way through the hidden tunnels, hoping he was on the right path to Aemond’s room.
He was in the mood for depravity and he wanted to drag his brother down with him. He just hoped he wasn’t with that Island bitch who was always attached at his hip. She ruined their last visit to the Silk Street.
He smirked to himself triumphantly as he reached the hidden door to Aemond’s chambers. He dropped his wineskin to the ground and pushed it open slowly to avoid making much noise to alert his brother.
He wanted to scare the little twat.
He stepped inside, but froze instantly at the sound of a breathless moan.
Confusion was the first thing he became aware of, but it soon turned to sheer delight as he recognized the sounds of panting and moaning. The sounds were unmistakable.
“Fuck, don’t stop.”
Aegon’s eyes widened at the sound of the breathless voice. He didn’t think his brother had it in him.
He slinked into the room with slow, quiet steps. His eyes widened when he peered around the corner, his jaw falling slack.
He knew that figure anywhere.
He knew his brother was in love with the Ixtal girl, he just didn’t think he’d have the balls to do anything about it. But he was dead wrong. He bit his lip as he watched the beauty atop his brother, mesmerized by the movement of her hips.
He watched, enthralled, feeling his cock twitch to life, as her head fell back, the pleasure on her face stirring something inside him. His eyes fell to her perky breasts that bounced tantalizingly with every one of her movements, forcing himself to bite his lip to stifle his own groan of pleasure.
“Aemond.” She moaned, making Aegon cringe at the reminder of the beauty in front of him was currently fucking his brother and not him.
He watched with jealousy as his brother’s hands roamed that perfect body, from her thighs up to her breasts. The sounds of his brother’s groans and pants of pleasure brought anger to bubble to the surface. Aegon’s eyes fell to his brother and he was startled to see the sparkling sapphire gem in place of his eye.
He had never seen his brother without his eye patch on.
The interest in his brother’s eye left swiftly as Aemond tightened his grip on the woman’s hips and thrust upwards, the loud moan she let out bringing him back to the present enticing sight.
Gods, she sounded like a whore from the Silk Street. He wished he could grab her and take her for his own. His brother didn’t deserve that beauty.
He watched the woman plant her hands on Aemond’s chest, her hips bouncing quicker, making him let out a loud, blissful moan. Her nails dug into his skin and it was the moment Aemond placed his hand atop hers, intertwining their fingers and leaning up to kiss her passionately that took Aegon out of the moment, the romantic gesture turning his delight into disgust.
He audibly scoffed, the noise reaching the couple. The woman looked over her shoulder, her eyes widening in horror as she yelped in fright. The second Aemond noticed his brother he swiftly turned them over, quickly covering her bare body with the sheets of his bed. He quickly stood from the bed, pulling his breeches up hastily, his deadly scowl locked onto his drunken wastrel of a brother.
“I had my suspicions brother, but now I know, you are truly pathetic.” Aegon slurred.
“What are you doing here?” Aemond seethed, his voice low with deadly intention.
“Enjoying the show.” He smiled viciously. His eyes moved past Aemond to the girl on the bed, but Aemond moved, blocking his line of sight from her.
“Don’t look at her.”
Aegon scoffed. “It’s too late. I already saw every inch of that whor-”
Aegon’s sentence abruptly ended as a gasping breath escaped him as his back hit the wall behind him, Aemond’s arm against his throat.
“Aemond!” She called out worriedly, wrapping the sheet around her trembling body as she stood from the bed.
He looked over his shoulder at her, the fury in his eye dimming as he noticed how scared she looked.
He turned back to his brother, his face growing redder the longer he pressed against his throat.
“You will never enter my chambers again. You will never speak of this and you will never look at her that way again.” He warned, his voice low, his intention clear.
He lifted his arm, leaving Aegon to stumble to the ground, gasping coughs escaping him as he took in grateful gulps of air. His heaving breaths soon turned to laughs, the drunken idiot finding the situation hilarious.
He unsteadily got to his feet, his eyes moving past his brother to land on the girl again, causing Aemond’s eye to darken, rage bubbling within him.
“You want my silence? You think it comes for free?”
“What do you want?” Aemond seethed through gritted teeth.
Aegon smirked, the sight making Aemond’s blood boil. He dreaded where this was going. His hand twitched, itching to wipe the smug look off his brother’s face.
“I won’t tell our precious mother what you’ve been doing, I won’t tell the court how you’ve sullied this poor girl and ruin her reputation… if I can have a turn with her.”
Her face fell, the hungry look Aegon sent her making her want to crawl out of her skin.
Aemond acted quickly, delivering a swift punch to his brother’s face. Aegon cursed and groaned, losing his footing, but Aemond was quick and wasn’t about to let him off the hook just yet. He grabbed a fistful of Aegon’s greasy hair and yanked him upwards, throwing him against the wall yet again.
“Love, grab my dagger.”
Aemond looked over his shoulder at the girl who was practically trembling in place, her hands clutched onto the sheet, her eyes watering. She gulped and reached for the dagger at his bedside, stepping forward on shaking legs to hand it over.
Aemond smirked darkly, feeling powerful as Aegon’s eyes widened in fear as he pressed the blade against his cheek.
“If you ever look at her in a way that is anything but polite, if you speak any vile comments in her direction, I’ll know and I won’t be giving you a second chance.”
“Brother-” Aegon choked out, a strangled gasp escaping as Aemond pressed harder against his throat, his dagger making a small cut on his cheek.
“You speak one word about her and I will take your tongue. I will cut off each of your limbs and feed them to Vhagar. You will be nothing but ash by the time I’m done with you.” Aemond spoke darkly, his voice steady and calm, fully honest in his threats.
After a few long, tense seconds, Aegon subtly nodded and Aemond lifted his hand, taking the dagger away from his face, leaving a small, almost imperceptible cut on his cheek, leaving nothing but a drop of blood that beaded to the surface.
“Get out.”
Aegon said nothing as he made his leave, not even sparing a glance back at her.
She let out a heavy exhale, her shaking legs almost giving out beneath her as she slowly sat at the edge of the bed, her hands still clutching fistfulls of the sheet wrapped around her.
“Are you alright?” Aemond asked, startling her slightly when she realized he was kneeled in front of her, his hands cradling her face gently, looking at her worriedly.
“He’s going to tell.” She spoke monotonously, her anxious mind conjuring a thousand scenarios of how the next morning will turn out, all ending with her humiliated, flooded with insults and forced to leave the Capitol as nothing more than a ruined whore.
“He won’t.”
“But if he-”
“He won’t do anything.” Aemond assured her, though he couldn’t deny how his own heart raced with equal parts adrenaline and fear of what Aegon could possibly do to ruin his life.
He eyed her carefully, moving to sit next to her on the bed, wrapping his arms around her as he hauled her into his lap. He kissed the delicate slope of her neck softly, moving upwards until he captured her lips with his in a kiss so sweet she would have continued where they had left off if she wasn’t so shaken.
“I will make it right.”
“How?”
He smiled slightly, the light in his eye so different to the fury she had seen just a minute ago.
“By doing what I should have done a long time ago.” He answered softly, his eye searing into hers with nothing but devotion.
Her heart that had finally slowed began to race yet again, this time for a much different reason. The resolution on Aemond’s face brought tears to her eyes. His love for her had always been clear, but now, as she spiraled and he remained calm, her everlasting rock, her guidance back to herself, solidified everything she already knew.
“I cannot go another day with you as my secret.”
“Aemond-”
“You will be my wife.” He spoke seriously. “Even if my grandfather disagrees, we will be married. We’ll leave for Ixtal tomorrow if we have to. I care little for what it would take. All I know is that I will take no wife that is not you.”
Her lips curled upwards, her insides twisting delightfully. She leaned into him, letting her forehead rest against his.
“I love you.” She said, her voice no more than a whisper.
Aemond’s hands tightened around her waist, wishing nothing existed outside of his room, outside of this moment.
“I love you.” He whispered, his lips brushing against hers softly. “Issa prūmia.”
My heart.
His name for her that was only whispered in the safety of his chambers, away from listening ears, could soon be said for all to hear.
“I won’t ever let him hurt you.” He promised her, the dark edge of his voice returning at the mention of his debauched brother.
She wound her arms around him and kissed him firmly, her trust completely his. She worried what Aegon could do to them, to her, having some leverage over them. She worried what Aemond’s mother and grandsire would think of their betrothal, if they would allow it.
She worried about what their future would look like in a mere matter of hours. But she could do nothing about it, so she remained in his arms, letting him hold her as he continuously assured her, promised her nothing but a life of happiness between his sweet kisses.
By the next morning, neither one of them having slept a wink, Aemond dressed and before he left he cradled her face in his hands, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead.
“I’ll take care of this, I promise you.”
“What if-”
“Nothing is going to take you away from me. I swear it, my love.” He interrupted her tearful fears. He kissed her once more before leaving his chambers.
The gentle and caring expression on his face fell the moment the door closed behind him. His body became rigid, his face dark with determination as he walked purposefully to his mother’s chambers.
He recited the speech in his head yet again, he’d done nothing else all night, trying to find a way to convince his mother of a betrothal.
Suddenly, as he came to his mother’s door, all words were gone from his head, leaving him standing tensely, his face pale and fear seeping through his veins.
He prayed he had gotten to her before Aegon.
With a deep breath, he slammed the door open and stomped inside the room as if it were his own, startling his mother who placed a hand over her racing heart at the sudden intrusion.
“I’d like to propose a marriage.” He spoke frantically and Alicent’s eyes widened in shock.
“Aemond, now isn’t-”
He interrupted quickly, breathing out the name of the love of his life, effectively shutting up his mother.
“I wish to marry her. I know it’s sudden and to be truthful, I don’t care if you do not agree, I’d take her across the sea to marry her if I had to. We are a fruitful match and I do not see any good reason to disagree.”
His mother was left to stare in disbelief.
A chuckle across the room made Aemond stiffen and he looked over to the other person in the room he had failed to notice. He swallowed, his face growing even paler at the sight of the Lord of Ixtal moving to take a seat in the chair across from his mother.
Embarrassment washed over him as he realized he had interrupted a meeting between his mother and the father of the woman he had just confessed his love for.
“Well, I couldn’t agree more.”
Aemond’s eye widened and he stared at the man incredulously, as if he were merely jesting at his expense.
“I think you two are a fine match.” The man continued. “You clearly hold much affection for my daughter, I could not think of a better person to be at her side.”
Alicent floundered, watching the events unfold before her with wide, horrified eyes. This wasn’t supposed to be happening.
“Aemond, we have invited Floris Baratheon to the Capitol. You two are supposed to begin a courtship.” She stuttered out, grasping at straws to stop this in its tracks.
“There are plenty of suitors to take my place.” Aemond countered quickly. Nothing would derail him, nothing would take him away from his love.
“He has practically been courting my daughter for years.” The Lord of Ixtal chimed in with a chuckle. He stood and reached his hand out for Aemond to shake. “You’re a fine man, Aemond. I would be happy for you to take my daughter’s hand.”
The praise, which was so seldom among his own family, made his throat tighten in a way he hadn’t expected and he swallowed thickly, clearing his throat as he shook the hand of the man who had just given him everything he could have ever wanted.
“But-“
“I think we should take this to the King. He’ll be delighted.” The Lord interrupted Alicent before she could voice her displeasure, as if knowing what she was trying to do, prompting a look of resentment from the Queen.
Aemond smiled, overcome with happiness and relief. It clouded his mind enough to not notice how deeply shaken his mother looked.
He was delirious, this was far from how he expected this morning to go. He always held a soft spot for the Lord of Ixtal, not only for creating the person he loved more than life itself, but for the kindness he always showed him, even as a young, ambitious child.
He often found himself wishing his own father was more like the father of his love.
His mind was spinning, barely able to keep track as his father’s dear friend, his soon to be father by law, spoke to his own delirious and decaying father, proposing a unity between their two houses.
It was the first time in years he saw his father smile.
Viserys reached a decrepit hand towards him, his smile revealing his missing and rotten teeth as he spoke his praises, most likely for the first time in his short life. Aemond didn’t care, the slight he thought would’ve plagued him was far from his brain.
All he cared about, all his mind could comprehend, was the fact that his father agreed, that he would soon marry the woman he loved with all his heart.
Once they left the King’s room, the Lord of Ixtal placed his strong hand on his shoulder.
“I’m not naive enough to believe the future will be easy, but I expect you to remain at her side.” He spoke lowly, Aemond quickly understanding what he was subtly referring to. The state of his family was murky on a good day, he knew as his father decayed further, the state of their family would become more tenuous. “I trust you to protect her, no matter what happens.”
Aemond nodded, his determination hardening his features.
“You have my word.” He promised swiftly, determination in his voice. “I will protect her with my life.”
The man smiled and cupped Aemond’s face affectionately, the gesture that of a father, causing a lump to well in Aemond’s throat, wondering if his father had ever done the same.
“You’re a good man, Aemond. You’re everything I could have hoped for my girl.”
Aemond cleared his throat, determined to not let himself become emotional at the affection he had seldom felt in his life, save for the one girl who remained steadily at his side.
With the heavy lump remaining in his throat, his numb body moved him from his father’s chambers, making his way to Helaena’s room, knowing that was where his love usually spent her mornings.
He let out a deep breath, his stomach swirling with nerves as if he was nothing more than that lovesick boy again as he thought of what he had just done, what he just accomplished.
He got to marry the love of his life. They didn’t need to sneak around any longer, they didn’t have to hide just how much they meant to each other.
He made it to Helaena’s chambers, his eyes immediately falling on her, taking a moment to watch her bright smile, her glorious laugh ringing out in the room, soothing every worry he had felt the night before.
He stepped into the room, catching Helaena’s attention who perked up and smiled at him warmly.
“Good morning, brother.”
The woman at her side tensed slightly and turned her head, her wide, inquisitive eyes locking onto him, the question in her gaze clear, her worry seeping out from every inch of her.
The slight upturn of his lips was all she needed to answer her silent question and no more than a second later did her entire body sag in relief, a breathless exhale leaving her as she grinned, allowing every ounce of worry and doubt to roll off her, leaving nothing but pure delight.
Helaena watched the two, not needing much context to understand what they shared, their happiness enough of an explanation for what she knew was soon to come.
She stayed seated as she watched her dear friend stand and wrap her brother in a tight hug. She noticed how tightly Aemond held her, how his lone eye closed in content as he held the girl, his usually tense body sagging against her, as if he no longer had any reservations while he was in her arms.
She smiled in relief, feeling nothing but happiness that two people she held so dear would soon start their lives together.
“It is done?” She whispered as she held tightly to the man of her affection.
“It is done. My father agreed to a betrothal.”
A breathless laugh escaped her, her grip tightening on Aemond, though she no longer had any reason to fear he would be taken from her.
Behind them, Helaena’s smile slowly fell, her bright eyes becoming glassy as she stared off into space, the embroidery in her hands falling to her lap as her grip became slack.
“The light of the sun dims under clouds of green and black.”
The lovers were too caught up in their embrace, they did not hear her mumbled warning.
~~
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#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen fanfic#aemond targaryen fic#house of the dragon fic
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Sometimes the name doesn't matter
synopsis: sometimes it matters that you are his wife.
pairings: Alhaitham, Ayato, Diluc, Kaeya x fem!reader (separately)
tw: fluff, established relationship, a little bit of bullying, a bit of unwelcome drunk flirting, characters are whipped for their wives
word count: 5.4k+ words
a/n: part 2 can be read here!
Alhaitham
Your husband is… Truly something. Honestly, that's the best way to describe this epitome of nonchalance, smugness and sarcasm, sprinkled with sharp glares and served with a smartass sauce. No one would be able to swallow such a nasty pill, yet you somehow managed. But that's what doctors say, right? The medicine might be bitter, but it'll get better. And it did.
Hard to believe, but the Akademiya's Scribe is enamored by you - it took time to realize, many interactions for him to see that you do not rise annoyance in him, multiple times sharing the eye contact and hundreds of hours being your interlocutor to cognize the beauty of you, but when he fell - he fell hard, and the realization didn't make him feel repulsed. On the contrary, it brought him inexplicable peace, and, being an efficient and straightforward man he is, Alhaitham faced you the very next day and asked out on a date.
The rest is history. You dated, you moved in, you got married - the sequence your husband perfected in its briefness to be over with quickly anytime his colleagues or anyone asked about you and your relationship. You, of course, would give a more detailed summary to your friends, speaking of him so tenderly, always witnessing the same reaction - disbelief. And you get it where they come from - after all, your partner is known to not be the most cordial person. He prefers it that way though - he is bothered much less and can dedicate that free time to his lovely wife.
He makes it a point to not leave the house unnecessarily early, just exactly enough to get to his office on time, and same with finishing his work, bluntly rejecting anyone who tries to approach him with stuff. This way he doesn’t waste a second with you, quite on contrary, sometimes a couple of hours can be added, if you visit him during the afternoon to go grab lunch together, or enjoy the one you brought with you, and then rest somewhere in a private spot with your head on his shoulder, holding a bigger hand that is resting on your thigh, while his other one is occupied with a book. This is enough to power you both up to push through the rest of the day, and Alhaitham really appreciates it, never failing to give you a kiss on the lips and murmuring the soft words of reassurance, before parting your ways till the evening.
Today is one of those days when you find yourself in the House of Daena with a home-cooked lunch neatly wrapped and warm in your hands. A couple of librarians greet you on the way, knowing perfectly well who you are, and you smile at them. One older woman, who’s always been fond of your character, informs you that Alhaitham hasn’t left the Grand Sage’s office since the moment he arrived, and you thank her for going out of her way to reassure you that you will not need to search for him.
There’s another exchange of greetings at the bottom of an elevator and just seconds later you start ascending to the above of the huge library. The quiet whirling of mechanisms is calming and you hum softly to yourself, imagining that tender look in those light turquoise eyes, a rare shine in orange-ringed yellow pupils and a slight pull of thin lips upon seeing your figure and catching a whiff of food you brought. A content sigh escapes your chest and you prepare to soon step off the huge round platform.
But instead of catching a glimpse of your husband, you are met with sharp black eyes, staring at you and a scowl present on the face of a person you don't believe you've seen before, at least not long enough to remember. You blink in surprise, eyes darting to look at the man from head to toe - he is wearing the Akademiya’s robes, but there is no indicator to which Darshan he belongs to. A Matra perhaps? But you are used to seeing a completely different face of a scholar Alhaitham appointed as his secretary for the period of time he’d fulfill the role of an Acting Grand Sage. Panah has soft brown eyes, always nodding to you in a greeting and leaving upon your arrival if it is lunch time and his boss doesn’t instruct him to stay and carry on with his job, not minding you two.
This one practically glares at you, arms crossed and posture intimidating. You simply tilt your head in question, waiting for him to say something.
“Who allowed you to enter?”
The tone of his voice is pretty rude, and the gruff voice doesn't add grace to it. You are not one to judge someone by their looks - your husband is the proof of that, so you decide to brush it off and simply answer.
"Shohre of course, as usual."
“...as usual?” His brows furrow, and you get even more confused with the question. Is your husband having some kind of an impromptu inspection? He didn’t tell you anything about it in the morning, and since the Akasha got turned off, there is no simple way to warn you of it.
"Is Alhaitham holding any meeting, perhaps?" You try, knowing it's absurd since he doesn't love his sweet lunch time being interrupted, but right now it's hard to find an explanation for this hostile-acting man's actions.
"You have so little respect for the Acting Great Sage?"
This time the booming edge in his words makes an echo in a pretty vast space and almost makes you flinch. The situation is escalating pretty quickly.
"Sir, I don't know who you are, but I do not believe I ever deserved such treatment from you. Would you be so kind to explain what's going on or at least let me see the Acting Great Sage-"
That must've sounded kind of sarcastic, because the man looks like he is ready to fume akin to a kettle.
"Who even are you!? Who do you think you are? Demanding a meeting like that - you must know his schedule is packed, so don't you assume that your pretty face would get you through-"
"Jahan, what is going on?" The "Jahan" shuts instantly upon hearing a deep, dripping with authority voice behind him. Your face instantly brightens when you spot the tall man approaching you two with his arms crossed and the most nonchalant expression etched in his features.
“We have an intruder, Sir.”
What in the Archon’s name- This is becoming ridiculous.
"An intruder?" He lifts his brow and glances at you, gaze lingering just for a few seconds longer. Then it returns to his subordinate. "I don't see one here."
"This woman," you move just in time not to have his index finger directly point you right in your face, "came here without prior appointment, not stating her purpose, not even stating her name!"
"Is that so?" You almost snort at how little Alhaitham cares for what this man has for an explanation, instead moving directly to you and taking a heavy lunch boxes from your hands, allowing your shoulders and arms to drop in relief.
“Her name is of no matter. All you need to know is that she is my wife.”
The room falls silent. The man stares at his boss with eyes so wide, you worry they’d pop out of his sockets. Your husband though doesn’t show any reaction to the stunned look on the man’s face, balancing all the containers in one hand, offering you the other, which you take with a smile.
"S-she what?"
"My wife. And she, along with the necessary descriptions, is literally the only person on the list of the people who are free to come and leave whenever. On the list Panah passed to you along with other instructions before taking his sick leave. Did you even skip through those?"
The tone of your husband is cold with a mocking edge, rubbing his subordinate’s incompetence in his face, and you don't need to look at the man to sense his panic.
"I-I, no of course I thoroughly looked through every single one, but I do not remember such paper, it must've been lost along the process-"
"It doesn't matter. Now you are aware. But there is one more thing you need to learn about my wife visiting."
"Yes, Sir?"
"You leave the moment she enters."
There is a momentary pause (you know Alhaitham is rolling his eyes inwardly at how slowly the notion seems to reach him), before Jahan snaps out of his stupor, slightly bows, mumbling something and quickly walks off to the elevator.
Not even waiting for the mechanism to start, your husband tugs on your hand and you take the hint, following him to the sofas and a table.
"What an imbecile," is murmured in annoyance and you finally chuckle, covering your mouth with a hand.
Your husband is truly something, but one thing is absolutely certain - his wife is the only person that really worths his nerves and time.
Ayato
Kamisato Ayato is a character of many admirable traits and worth-mentioning accomplishments, a great leader, an amazing big brother, a boss held in high regard, and a loving husband of three years to you. This last, but not the least, is Commissioner's favorite, and he makes sure to show it every opportunity present in his individual mischievous way.
You know he gets away with a lot of things, and for numerous reasons, ranging from being the head of the Yashiro Commission, to him being pretty unknown by face among the commoners due to Ayaka handling all the public affairs. This one in particular is harmless, but there is that little thing which drives you up the wall - he does it only when you are present, leaving you very flustered and with a fast beating heart.
"My name? Oh, I am a husband. This gorgeous woman's husband."
"Lord Kamisato? No need to be so formal with me, just call me her husband."
"'Kamisato Ayato' and all my titles are so long to write down, can't I sign it with 'Y/n's hubby' instead?"
"Kamisato Y/n's husband. That's who I am."
"Ayaka, have you forgotten? No more calling me 'big brother', only 'Y/n's husband- Stop laughing, I am serious!"
The last one is literally happening right before your eyes, with the younger sibling hiding her smile and suppressing her giggles behind her intricately decorated fan, as the older one has taken his glove off, wiggling his fingers to show the glistening golden band wrapped around one of them. You, on the other hand, are trying to cover your heated face with a stack of papers you picked when Ayaka entered the office and addressed her big brother as, well, big brother. Peeking above the filled with reports sheets you catch a sly smile playing on Ayato's lips, while his usually piercing eyes reflect the special kind of adoration he holds for you.
You know why he is doing this - the man fought hard for your heart and then hand in marriage, and since it is now a reality, he absolutely keens on that "I am your husband" notion. Sometimes it's a perfect ice breaker in introducing you two to new people, sometimes it's a reason for an eye roll (yours as well), at times it puts people in stupor which Ayato uses to his advantage, but there is always only one initial thought behind every single one of them - showing the world he is proud to be your partner with a label "husband" on it.
And this sentiment is fully returned! However you never had an opportunity to do the same - he always beats you to it, and leaves bashful long enough for the moment to become wasted. You know you can always talk it through with him and he’d be more than happy to give you a chance, but, after all these times he left you speechless, it’s simply a matter of pride to pay him back. Besides… You really-really want to see his reaction if you told someone important those words.
That you are his wife.
You hear a soft knock on the living room’s door where you and Ayato are sitting next to each other at one side of the low table.
“Lord and Lady Kamisato, the guests have arrived.”
“Wonderful, please let them in.”
The man notices your elation upon hearing those words and smiles to himself - your friends from another nation, whom you haven’t seen properly in ages, finally managed to reach the coasts of Inazuma and seek a meeting to reconnect with you and also meet your mysterious husband you’ve written and praised so much in your letters.
The scene is heartwarming. Two girls around your age are tightly hugging you with excited squeals while the man that came in together with them, patiently waits to be introduced. Ayato follows his example, watching your grinning face, filing away every single detail about it - the sparkles in your eyes, the rosiness of your cheeks, that adorable wrinkling of your nose when the girls say something cheesy, and the pure happiness written all over your visage.
“Oh, Y/n, it’s so nice to see you again after so long! So much happened…”
“Yes! We totally should discuss every single event! But I offer to start by introducing us and our husbands.”
“One of you got married?” You ask surprised. “I know that only one of you got recently engaged-”
“Me! But the wedding is so soon, that I already call him my husband, hehe. Oh, we brought the wedding invitation for you and your husband as well, I hope you two will make it!”
“Girls, girls, let’s calm down,” you laugh, pausing them and gesturing to the two men silently observing you - both pairs of eyes shining with admiration. “Ayato, my dear, I want you to meet my friends I’ve told you so much about…”
Your husband hears familiar names, ones he’s remembered long ago, and nods in recognition, offering each a kiss on the back of their hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet people my beloved holds in high regard.”
“Likewise,” they giggle, giving you teasing looks about how gentlemanly your spouse is, and you roll your eyes, but a smile tugging on your lips doesn’t go unnoticed.
“And I’ll take an opportunity to introduce our companion,” one of the women says, stepping closer to her fiance and offering everyone his name and a slight description of his field of work, to which Ayato hums with interest.
“And these,” your other friend gestures to you and your husband, “are Kamisato Ayato and-”
“Wife.”
Everyone falls silent and looks at you with confusion. You yourself are stunned, eyes slightly widened and heart skipping a beat. The word really just flew out of your mouth faster when you could think about it.
“Excuse me?” Your friend gapes at you, and suddenly it clicks. This spontaneous reaction, caused by your unspoken desire, presents you with a perfect opportunity. You finally can get “revenge” on your husband.
“That’s what I said, sweety,” with a smirk and boosting confidence you glance at Ayato and meet his lilac eyes, staring at you with a hint of amusement. “I am this marvelous man’s wife. You know, 'Kamisato Y/n' is way too long to pronounce. So, maybe just a wife instead?”
The silence reigns again, with the three of your guests clearly being in stupor and your husband observing you with an unreadable expression. But suddenly he laughs. Joyfully and sincerely, it plucks on the strings of your crazily beating heart. Instantly there are arms wrapping around your waist and lips pressed against your temple, and you can feel the smile he hides in your hair.
“Yes, that’s right… This remarkable woman is my wife. Most incredible and lovely wife.”
Turning your head slightly you manage to catch a soft blush dusting his porcelain skin, before he faces away from you. Oh Archons, he loves it and he is bashful!
As you fully turn in his embrace and start teasing him, loud enough for only the man to hear (you are not that cruel to embarrass him in front of people), your guests' existence is forgotten for a moment. Both girls sigh and look at the completely lost man, whose hand his future wife takes and rubs a thumb over his knuckles.
“Ah… Please, don’t mind that. She always had a strange sense of humor, and it seems that her husband only enabled it.”
That is true, but you look genuinely happy, so they can bear a week of occasional cringing.
Diluc
The annual harvest celebration has been a tradition in the Ragnvindr family for as long as the Dawn Winery existed. When Master Crepus was alive, it was hosted in the grand mansion with spacious halls and intricately decorated staircases, the one Diluc used to call his home. Guests would gather, wine bars would be uncorked and red liquid fill dozens of glasses, as he and Kaeya would curiously watch the adults interact, sneaking out of their rooms to spy from the hiding spots they knew so well.
But not anymore. Gone were the days of careless happiness he calls the past now, gone his father, gone the mansion, and gone his desire for active social interaction. It's been some years since his return and the sale of the mansion in attempts to run away from said past. The celebration came to a stop for as long as he was gone and then while he tended to re-establishing the business after arrival.
The Dawn Winery, despite all the maids and winemakers, would become so quiet. And it's not like he stayed there for long too - he was always somewhere, preoccupied by something.
That is until his life was shaken and turned upside down, and all by the hands of one single person. The person, who brought light back to his dark crimson eyes, who made him stop and think about how he can not just exist, but live, and happily so, waiting for every opportunity possible to be in the loving presence; the person who brought out that part of him he buried deep down in his graveyard of a soul, and gave it freedom to be again. The home actually started feeling like one, not a building he had a study and a bedroom in, but a place he could share with another, basking in the long-forgotten sensations, having his heart dance jigs and face soften in a tender gaze.
Many changes occurred, and, with some encouragement, he decided to bring back the tradition his father held in high regard, with only his sons' birthdays being more important to the late wine master.
The Winery is not as big as the family mansion used to be, but it is still enough space, with some of the furniture moved and the floor cleared, it can host many people. Besides, there is always a lovely outside with benches, and tables, and chairs, and it seems that Barbatos is kind to you, sending delightful weather as his gift.
Diluc is not a fan of social gatherings, however, he couldn't help but feel giddy when Adelinde exclaimed in elation at the prospect, be rather content when he saw happy smiles of the citizens - it's been a while since any proper celebration, and the monster rampage last month has been keeping everyone in a gloomy mood, and most importantly - he couldn't betray the trust and confidence his wife put into him.
…right. His wife. The ending to his reputation of the most eligible bachelor (not like he ever cared for the title), and the talk of the town for the past couple of weeks. Diluc Ragnvindr is a rather private man, and upon mutual agreement the wedding was private as well, with only few attending, and those few knew how to keep their mouths shut till the right time came. Or not, since one Cavalry Captain loves getting on the redhead's nerves and spilling some beans to the people who are willing to listen, and then not saying another word to create an intrigue.
So yes, this celebration is also a way to finally introduce the owner of the Dawn Winery's wife to the public, and put an end to all the speculations and maybe seal some lips that spew hatred towards the 'lucky woman', and there are a number of those.
You haven't been taking your eyes off the small group of nobles, standing almost in the middle of the first floor hall, loudly discussing the matter, inevitably drawing the attention of the ones not involved in the conversation, but standing rather close to them.
"I am telling you, she must be some dirty little thing, seducing our poor Master Diluc," the raven-haired tall man claims, elegantly holding a glass of dandelion wine in his long fingers. With his white and black clothes he reminds you of a dalmatian. Barking is almost identical too.
"You are right! She must be some commoner, too ashamed to show her face. If she was of a noble origin, the wedding would be grand and public," ah, and this bear-like looking man… you remember him - he was very active in trying to arrange a marriage of a very uninterested Diluc and his 17-year old daughter. You almost grimace at the thought.
"Oh yes! And we all know, that such well-known and ancient family as Ragnvindrs ought to have one of the noble daughters getting married into it," it is the first time you see this dramatically dressed woman, but even so you would've doubled in boisterous laughter if not the pretty dress Adelinde helped you lace an hour ago, that could potentially be ruined with the drink in your own glass.
You will yourself to tune them off for a moment and check on other guests. It quickly becomes clear that this conversation makes them uncomfortable. Some manage to entertain you though, by making fun of those nobles, parodying the pompous manner of their talking and snickering at that.
Nevertheless, one shall put an end to this idiocy.
"Afternoon, good sirs and ma'ams," the group direct their gazes at you, approaching them with a polite smile and a glass absent from your hand. "I've caught pieces of your conversation earlier, and couldn't help, but feel concerned."
The derogatory gaze the woman throws your way doesn't go unnoticed, but you simply choose to ignore it.
"Is that so?" The 'Dalmatian' hums, as if condescendingly. "Are you worried about Master Diluc as well, young lady? Such compassion is admirable."
"Oh, I hardly worry about Diluc," some eyes widen at your lack of his title acknowledgement, but you once again ignore it. "I am concerned about you. You know it's bad manners to berate a person in their own house? I'd really advise you to stop talking, especially about the matter you seem to know nothing about. Not to make bigger fools of yourselves at least."
"How dare you-" the woman you haven't heard talking before, but saw her nodding a lot, with those huge feathers in her hair waving with each tilt of her head, starts gasping because of your 'insult'. "How dare you speak to us like that! A servant must stay silent until asked to open their mouth!"
"I am not a servant here, nor anywhere else," the assumption doesn't surprise you, since all the maids were allowed to wear pretty outfits even while doing their job - after all it was a celebration honoring them as well, they help the Winery keep running.
"When who in the Archon's name are you-?"
"Y/n Ragnvindr," a deep soothing voice rings behind you, so loud and clear, that it immediately shuts all the sounds in the room.
Your lips curl in a wider smile, all the while holding the bewildered gaze of the woman who decided to pick a fight with you.
"Yes, dear?" His chest is now against your back and a hand, clad in a white glove, reaches for yours. "Are you done with welcoming our partners from Liyue?"
"Of course," the back of your hand is brought to his lips to leave a chaste kiss there, and only then you turn your head and catch a dangerous glint in those blood-colored eyes. He is pissed, but neutral face hardly betrays him. "I see we have a problem here."
"Mhm," you hum, not letting go of his hand and looking back at the tensed individuals, who were bad-mouthing you just minutes ago. "It surely isn't how we planned to reveal our marriage, but the situation called for it, I suppose."
"L-lady Ragnvindr, we didn't know-"
"Can these people be escorted out?" Your question interrupts her harshly, making her flinch. "They disturb other guests, and clearly do not know basic rules of respect."
"My dear wife," you can practically feel menace radiating off of his body, and voice dripping with smugness, "no need to ask me. That's your house as much as it's mine, and you contributed so much into organizing this event. So don't be shy to make your own decision."
"Well then," your smile gets even sweeter, contrary to your eyes that burn holes in their distasteful figures, "Get out."
Kaeya
"Hey pretty tits, hic! Argh, you come here often?"
You wouldn't think that a question like this was addressed to you, if the heavily smelling of alcohol man wasn't occupying the bar stool to your right, leaning forward in your direction. You slightly turn your head and suspiciously watch the swinging glass in his trembling hand, half full and threatening to spill the dark liquid. He really had too much tonight.
"...was that supposed to be a compliment?"
Leaning back to avoid any unfortunate outcome, you give him an unamused look, finished with an arched brow. From the corner of your eye you can't help but notice Charles staring at the man. It is nice to know your good acquaintance doesn't ignore the possible trouble a drunkard can cause another customer.
But you can handle it.
"It was!" He exclaims so happily, childishly proud that you acknowledged the fact. Should you tell him he sucks at it? And that there is only one man whose drunk flirty compliments you'll ever accept, and even in a state like that he would manage to be good, putting a smile on your face? Right now though, the urge to grimace is stronger.
"...thanks," I suppose?. "And yes, I come here often to spend the evening with my partner."
At that his face visibly falls and you turn away, assuming it is enough to cut the conversation short, and concentrate on savoring your first drink of the evening. You ordered it while waiting for one particular Cavalry Captain, and even though it's not strange for him to come later due to astronomically fast piling up paperwork, today he seems to be particularly busy. Maybe you should purchase a bottle and come to his quarters?
Just before you could do just that, there is a hand sliding over your right hip and a hot breath caressing the shell of your ear. You don't even flinch or freeze, recognizing the alluring presence immediately and leaning back into the firmness of his chest.
"You are late, Kaeya."
A soft chuckle and a kiss to the temple make it pretty clear that the azure-haired man cracked your fake rebuke on the spot, knowing that you are not one bit angry at him, but actually really happy to finally have him here.
"I apologize, princess," another kiss, this time to your cheek, "work's been a bit tough. But I am glad to finally be here with my woman."
"Youuurr?"
Ah, you completely forgot about the drunkard to your right.
Turning to look at Kaeya's reaction, you are stricken by the star-shaped pupil gazing right at you - he hasn't even glanced in the other man's direction, instead fixated on you completely. And that is making wonders to your poor heart.
"Who's that, snowflake?" His tone holds curiosity, but you know your lover, and you know when he is ready to be an ass. You shouldn't encourage this, however…
You'd love to see Kaeya Alberich tell the suitor off for you.
"No idea. But he said I have pretty tits."
He hums at that.
"True, but I would've aimed for that delicious butt. I am a simple man, after all."
You barely slap his hand in time, not nearly as drunk to start touching each other right here and right now. At your jab in his ribs he simply laughs heartily, settling his palm back onto your hip and momentarily redirecting his attention to the troublemaker who's been staring at you two throughout the whole exchange.
"You are not from here, are you?"
Only when your lover says that, do you decide to take in the other man's appearance. Indeed, if you were to look longer at him (not like you were interested) it would be easy to guess Fontaine as his land of origin.
"And what?" He straightens his back and puffs his chest as if trying to intimidate. What a rooster. "Does it prevent me from pursuing a pretty woman from another region?"
Oh, so now it's not simply one flirting remark, but a full-blown pursuit? How troublesome.
"Oh no, no, of course not," honey is dripping off those pretty lips, pulled into a smirk. "It's just that otherwise you'd know it's a bad tone to hit on someone's ex-girlfriend."
Confusion appears on the pursuer's face and you look inquiringly at Kaeya as well. The only answer you get is a wink and a mouthed request to order him a drink. Still perplexed, you nevertheless turn to Charles and ask him to make the Cavalry Captain the usual.
Meanwhile the man pulls his thoughts together.
"It's stupid! If she is your ex, then how does it not give me the right to date her? Ridiculous. Why do you even hold her like that!?"
The shouting gathers attention from other patrons - some were invested almost from the beginning, seeing how that unknown man tried to make a move on you, and snickering behind their mugs of alcohol at his unawareness of your relationship.
And Kaeya is all for the show. Many eyes watch as an elegant hand wraps around the glass of his favorite drink and brings it to the silent lips. It feels like everyone stopped breathing and the silence is pressuring, like a string ready to snap and reveal some shocking truth. You, on the other hand, roll your eyes at the male's love for theatrics and put an elbow onto the counter and lean your cheek into your open palm. This is going to be crushing, you almost feel sorry for the guy.
When the Cavalry Captain takes the third sip and sighs in delight - then, and only then, - he looks dead into the other man's eyes, so oppressively that he shrinks under the weight of this cold gaze.
"Maybe because she is my wife?"
If it was physically possible, the drunkard's jaw would hit the floor. The glass, he's been holding just seconds ago, however, follows its destiny, breaking from the impact with floorboards and ruining the prolonged silence and earning a grunt from the barman.
"S-she's what?"
"His wife," you raise your hand and show the ring, getting quite tired and wanting to save at least some of this man's dignity. "So, if you could, please, let us two have our date night. Uninterrupted."
Finally it seems to have him sobered up a little and he starts profusely apologizing to you, to Kaeya, to Charles, to Barbatos and Focalors, while digging his porch with mora out to pay for his drinks and minor damage he caused.
When he stumbles outside and the other patrons stop following the drama, you turn to a contently sipping on his wine Kaeya, who is excelling the nastiest grin on his face.
"Ex-girlfriend? Seriously? That's how you call your wife now?"
"Well, technically I am not wrong, right? Since you are not my girlfriend anymore," he shrugs his shoulders, finishing the last few gulps and putting the glass back onto the counter.
"Then the next time we meet new people I will introduce you as my ex-boyfriend. What? Technically you are," having his own words being thrown into his face makes Kaeya laugh, and he hugs you tightly, kissing the corner of your mouth.
"Deal. But only once, to make it even. I enjoy being called your husband way more."
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x fem!reader#ayato x reader#kamisato ayato x reader#ayato x fem!reader#kamisato ayato x fem!reader#diluc x reader#diluc ragnvindr x reader#diluc x fem!reader#diluc ragnvindr x fem!reader#kaeya x reader#kaeya alberich x reader#kaeya x fem!reader#kaeya alberich x fem!reader#alhaitham#kamisato ayato#diluc ragnvindr#kaeya alberich#genshin impact fluff
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scarlet and silver lining
(alastor w/ daughter reader)
(fem reader/notproofread!/apologies for anything ooc still trying to get used to writing fics again lol/possible part 1 after the epilogue)
[Prologue]
You never truly got along with your 'father', not even in life until the passing of his mother.. your grandmother.
Technically she wasn't exactly your grandmother, and Alastor wasn't your father.. at least not by blood but by adoption papers. Poor Nana, she just wanted a little grandbaby running around the house before her days started getting counted down.
Alastor knowing that he didn't want to go through the trouble of finding a wife nor did he want to deal with the issues that came with that let alone the process to conceive a kid, with a heart full yet a hesitant hand he then signed your papers.. adopted you for the kind old woman at the age of six.
Orphaned by your parents sudden passing, you never truly found out why or how they died. Only thing you knew was that it was sudden, unprovoked, unasked for. They were healthy yet from what you could hear from the cops that took you from your empty home was that there was blood, lots of it.
With no family to take care of poor little you, you got thrown in an orphanage and stayed there hoping to be rescued and loved someday.
Till one day a man with a large smile and clean-cut clothes walked in with a gentle old lady, both talking to one of the adults in charge of the place. Eventually while touring the building they managed to find you hidden in a corner reading a picture book, reading about a baby deer finding his way in the world without his mother, this intrigued the lady and she started to speak to you.
No matter how much the man tried to get the lady to start moving to look at more options she was so stuck to you, your innocent and your little voice attempting to use big words entranced her poor heart and in that moment she just knew you had to be her granddaughter. After she said the word, the adult responsible led them to talk more and sign papers and the rest is history.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
That was all you were willing to think far into when it came to your past, not wanting to remember what once was before falling into Hell.
You died around the 1940s, you followed in your fathers footsteps and created your own radio show before you died and being the daughter of Alastor in life had it's perks when he was famous in your home of New Orleans.
Although, you kept your secret deep in the ground when it came to your connection to Alastor. No way in hell would anyone know he was your adoptive father, you knew it'd only make you an even bigger target.
Especially to Vox, your boss and the demon that owned your soul.
Also the man that hated your father with his guts, but of course he didn't need to know any of that.
Your contract with him allowed you to be on his show, have a segment of it, get the royalties from it and be under his protection and his roof, in exchange you do any job he asks you to do no matter how hard or long it gets.
God did you hate transitioning from radio to TV, you were never fond of those color video boxes.. they lacked personality and were shallow in the content they produced. but hey, you needed to survive in hell somehow so why not just throw your soul to this TV guy to stay safe from the exterminations and other ruthless sinners.
You died around the time when the Radio Demon was barley getting the word out and showing his true power, the day you recognized his voice and heard his name blasted everywhere was when you knew he was worser than you thought, you didn't think he was this much of a sadist in life.. he must've hid it incredibly well from you then.
And you hated him for that.
Hated him for killing innocents, his sadistic tendencies, his power, his smile, his singing and his lies. His lies that he was your kind ol' dad that would do nothing wrong.
God.
But here you were now in present time being forced to be at the Hazbin Hotel by Vox.
Your hand currently leaning over to knock on the door ready to knock. You'd be warned that Alastor was here, and were warn to be more careful with your words and actions considering how badly Sir Pencious messed up before. This time bringing no technology with you but your head, memory, and a few things to sleep a few nights at this establishment. You were told that you would get more royalties and more perks like even getting your own show to rule over completely if you succeeded in this mission.. and god did you need your own place and studio so that Valentino didn't bother you any longer.
Your lips parted to let out a shaky sigh, a sweat bead running down your forehead down to the side of your face.
'c'mon ____, keep it together will ya?..' your thoughts scolded at you,
Your free hand wiped it away before finally knocking on the door of the hotel, hands shaky and your practiced smile of years
The door opening and being met with the princess of hell, Charlie Morningstar.
You could've sworn you felt the red eyes of a certain radio demon stare at you full force behind the princess's back.
Charlie gasped, seemingly more than ever excited to see someone new.
Your lips parted and started to move, you thoughts racing as you could feel more people stare from behind the royal.
You knew you'd regret doing this mission, Alastor being involved in it should've kept you away..
but if there was a chance to either get a solution to fully get away from the V's or to benefit from them if you did all this right, then so be it.
"Hello.. you must be Charlie right.. My name is ______ and I heard you are redeeming sinners? Your highness, I believe in your cause.. please help me relieve myself of my sins."
Your hands went from holding your luggage to clasping together with a face full of worry and a need to get better. Even you were unsure if you meant what you said, but you just knew that you knew what you had to do no matter what.. you would benefit from this somehow.
"Please, let me redeem yourself in your Hazbin Hotel, Princess Morningstar."
(hello readers!! thank you so much for taking a look at this epilogue of a possible new pic series! I actually made this fanfic almost three years ago on quotev but I want to bring it to life in a different fashion and new writing, so I hope you can stick around till the end of this series!!)
#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor the radio demon#hazbin#radio demon#hazbin hotel spoilers#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel angst#hazbin alastor#hellaverse#hazbin charlie#charlie morningstar#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin spoilers#alastor x reader#alastor x reader platonic#platonic hazbin#hazbin angel dust#habzin fanfics#alastor altruist
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miss you more | s. es
ex baby-daddy!eunseok x reader | 6.6k words
i do NAWT condone having a baby with a man you’re not married to.
contains: sex without a condom (they’re absolute messes DON’T BE LIKE THEM)
you don’t know how you ended up in front of eunseok’s place. even if you were the one behind the wheel, the one shifting the gears, and the one rolling red stop signs you don’t know how you ended up there. you looked out your driver side window to look at the house you used to call your home across the street. atleast you were in your right mind enough to not park directly in front. but you also knew this was just as bad, in a parked car with the lights off across the street like a stalker.
you knew you could’ve gone home. you could’ve put your car back in drive and come back in the morning to pick up your daughter, pretending like this never happened. but you knew yourself better than that, and you knew that the failed date you went on still weighed heavy on your shoulders.
you turned towards your phone, hoping that something on your device would distract you. but when you opened your phone you saw your lockscreen—your happy little daughter trying to hold a pumpkin the size of her body as you and eunseok helped. you thought about how content you were that day, how you felt like you were truly a happy little family again. you even had a heart to heart with eunseok, talking about how you were too young and just starting your career when you met him. your life was barely on track by the time your daughter came and although you wouldn’t trade her for the world you both humored the idea of meeting later in life. you felt a pang in your chest as you remembered looking down to your daughter who held tightly onto eunseok’s hand while she held her tiny pumpkin in the other.
the person you went on the date with noticed your wandering mind, it was obvious in the way he cleared his throat after you stared at the picture for a little too long.
trying to comprehend your relationship with eunseok was difficult. when you were with him you thought about all the shortcomings in your relationship—the lack of communication, hiding your feelings, keeping things bottled up until they exploded. neither of you were able to save your relationship before it was too late, and it could be argued that you two were better apart. but when you weren’t with him, the only thing you could think about was trying to make it work.
you looked at the man sitting across from you at the dinner table and you imagined it was eunseok. maybe it was the familiarity, maybe you shouldn’t have made the mistake of seeing him before going on your date. because now the only thing you could think about was him, if he was going on dates in secret and if he was thinking of you too. you thought about your daughter, how much you wished you were with her instead of pretending the fancy food on your plate was good.
you knew the moment you started thinking about your family that the date was already over. it would be another endeavor in your long list of failures, all you could think about as you sat in your car was how you gave up a day you had with your daughter for this. you deleted your message history with the man, staring at your most recent text conversations. eunseok sat at the very top, his unread message appearing in the form of a tiny blue dot next to his picture-less icon. you clicked on the message thread, revealing a series of pictures of your daughter and little updates through the night.
eunseok: she likes strawberries alot.
eunseok: playing zelda and animal crossing on the big tv.
eunseok: she’s better than me at zelda now.
eunseok: she told me mommy is going on a date?
eunseok: i hope it goes well.
eunseok: she ate all of her food.
you don’t know why you felt guilty reading the last message. eunseok didn’t have the right to know, and you knew that. you had simply told your daughter in passing that you were going on a date night with your friends, knowing that she would repeat whatever you told her to her father. you typed your reply over and over again, trying to figure out what approach to take.
lol i was going out with some of my friends from wo|
that’s none of your busin|
the date went we|
are you awake?
your mind came up with a million things to say, but none of them felt right. it felt like all of them were attempts at sounding casual. you threw your phone into the passenger seat beside you, and you rolled your neck to try and relieve some of the tension. you let out a sigh and turned your keys in the ignition, letting your car come to life around you.
you pulled out from the parking lot and headed down the road trying to go home. it started off with one wrong turn, your mind confused on where to go from the restaurant. when you had the chance to go back the way you came you felt something take control, and you continued heading down the same road. you took another turn, you even waited at the red light with an unexplainable energy as you tapped the steering wheel. the tension in your neck was gone too as you headed further down the road.
you knew you didn’t have the right to act confused when you finally turned down eunseok’s road.
you let your head rest against the steering wheel when you parked across the street. each time the thought of leaving your car invaded your thoughts, you gently shook your head, feeling the worn leather of the steering wheel cover against your forehead.
“don’t do it.” you said to yourself.
you looked back at the house again, looking at the window that your daughter was sleeping in. you knew that on the other side of the house you couldn’t see, was the window to the room you used to sleep in. you started thinking about eunseok in that bed by himself, drowning in the california king that was too big even for the two of you. you started thinking about if he thought of you before going to bed everyday, if he thought about you tonight and where you were going in your pretty dress.
“don’t do it.” you repeated.
saying it a second time was unnecessary. you said it purely for effect, trying to seem like your better senses were trying to put up a fight. you were already taking your key out of the ignition before you finished your sentence. you had taken your first step out of the car when you repeated the phrase again. you cleared the road quickly, hearing your heels click on the paved road with each step. by the time you made it to the sidewalk you had accepted your fate. you were still weary, slowly making your way across the lawn to the stoop.
when you made it to the small set of stairs you looked to the door in front of you. the last chance you had to go back in your car before you undid all of your hard work. you knew you were being recorded by the ring camera beside the door. you could simply lie if eunseok ever brought it up. you could just say you considered coming to get your daughter before realizing how late it was. eunseok most likely wouldn’t believe you, and you would most likely lie some more trying to tell a convincing story. but your gaze went from the ring camera to the potted plant that stood tall beside you. you looked even lower to the painted rocks that circled the bottom. you let the ring camera catch you crouch down to your heels. the same hand that drove you here picked out the discolored rock that felt hollow.
you held the rock in your hand, feeling the three engraved letters side by side. you held it away from your shadow, letting the moon illuminate the letters. you laughed to yourself for a moment before bringing your other hand to it, feeling for the split in the middle. it was too easy to slide the fake rock open, and to grab the key to the front door out of it.
you stepped through the door, turning the knob so it closed quietly behind you. you took off your heels at the door, hanging your jacket on the coat rack. you felt like an intruder, walking through the house on the balls of your feet trying to be as stealthy as possible. you lurched past your daughters toys in the living room down the hallway to eunseok’s room.
“don’t do it.” you said one more time putting your hand on the doorknob.
you pushed open the door to eunseok’s room slowly. you cursed at the creaky hinges, only letting it fully open when you saw that eunseok’s bed was empty. you didn’t hear him in the bathroom, so you pulled away from the door. you turned around, looking at the pink door of your daughter’s room. you ran your hand over the paint, remembering the day you spent painting it outside. it was the same day you painted the rocks outside. for some reason you believed eunseok would’ve thrown out the rocks you painted, or atleast replace them with new ones. but everything was the same as you left it all those years ago.
when you silently opened the door, you saw your daughter take up a majority of the bed. her stretched limbs forced eunseok to the edge—his arm was slung over the side, and he was so close to falling that his hand touched the ground. eunseok was on his stomach and your daughter was on her back, both of their snores filled the room. for a moment pain flashed across your chest, you missed seeing this more than you thought. your own flesh and blood laid next to your shared history that was so suffocating it took your breath away. it was overwhelming and calming, as painful as it was peaceful.
part of you wanted to stand there for the rest of the night, just watching the two sleep side by side. you were still for a moment, letting your mind replace all the bad memories with the good as you worked up the courage to get closer to eunseok.
all of your steps towards eunseok were careful, walking on the flat part of your foot to not cause the floorboards to creak. you had your eyes trained on your sleeping daughter, making sure she didn’t open her eyes while you crouched close to eunseok’s body.
when you reached your hand in the space between your chest and eunseok’s shoulder, you hesitated. you were frozen looking at eunseok and his cheek pressed into the mattress and his mussed black hair. you hadn’t seen eunseok like this in god knows how long. after you called things off, eunseok put his stoic resolve back up. he put on a mask for you, a facade of furrowed eyebrows and emotionless stares. you had been deprived of eunseok’s softness you almost forgot it existed. now you crouched next to your ex beside the flower lamp on your daughters dresser resisting the urge to run a finger over his soft parted lips or his smooth skin. you almost didn’t want to wake eunseok up, afraid that you would once again have the gentleness taken away from you. you didn’t know you could miss the view of someone you claimed to hate so much.
something inside of you wanted eunseok to know you saw him like this, serene in middle of the night just like when you were together. maybe he would even talk to you in the same raspy voice he always used to talk to you in. maybe if you woke him up fast enough you would be able to experience the eunseok you loved before his mind fully woke up to make him robotic towards you again. so you finished reaching across the space, gently touching his shoulder before you let your hand fully cover the area.
you shook eunseok gently at first. his body was limp underneath your hand, moving whichever way you applied force. you looked past eunseok to your daughter, who had at some point moved on her side to sleep like you. you drew in a breath, applying more pressure behind your hand trying to rouse him. finally he did something, letting out a sigh before shrugging his shoulders.
“go back to sleep baby,” eunseok swallowed and turned his head, facing away from you. “we can play zelda in the morning, i promise.” he mumbled.
even if his voice was barely audible, you still clenched your teeth in worry. your daughter was by no means a light sleeper, but all it could take is mentioning one of her favorite things to have her head shoot up in the middle of her sleep. eunseok ignored you trying to wake him up, you had to lean in close to the back of his head.
“eunseok,” you shook him a little harder “it’s me.” you whispered.
as if you yelled straight into his ear, eunseok shot up from the bed. you were spooked, almost letting out a sound when he turned to you with wide eyes.
“what are you doing here?” he sounded lost as he looked around your daughters dark room. “is something wrong?” he asked.
“no i just.” you looked over eunseok’s shoulder to look at your daughter. she was still snoring, but had turned to face her father. if she woke up now she would never go back to sleep. “i need to talk to you.” you whispered.
eunseok looked at the flower-shaped clock hanging on the wall behind you. he squinted his eyes trying to make sure he was reading the time right.
“at two in the morning?” he asked, voice still raspy.
in that moment you realized it was a mistake coming. nothing good as ever happened between you and eunseok after midnight. but you also realized it was too late to go back, and a small voice in your brain convinced you that you weren’t sleeping in your own bed tonight. so you nodded your head again as eunseok carefully move off the bed to not wake your daughter.
eunseok motioned for you to walk toward shis room but he still led the way. he didn’t care to walk on his tiptoes or avoid the creaky parts of the floor as he rubbed his face.
you looked back to your daughter once more before closing the door behind you. she moved to the center of the bed, taking up the little amount of space eunseok was occupying. you slowly pulled the door closed until you heard it click behind you. when you turned back into the hallway you saw eunseok past the opening in his door, looking at you through the space. he was no longer tired and he didn’t have his eyes squinted in confusion anymore. he held eye contact with you from his room, almost like he was daring you to come in. the implications made your bare feet timid in the hallway, lingering behind each creak on the floorboards as you crossed the threshold into his room.
as if you had never been in the room before, you waited by the doorframe as eunseok closed the door shut beside you. he gave you a second to collect your thoughts, leaning against the closed door as he looked down at you. you tried matching his calm, leaning against the wall until the light switch poked your back. when eunseok crossed his arms you breathed in deeply.
“what are you doing here?” he asked.
you didn’t have an answer. all you could do was cross your arms against your chest and avoid his gaze.
“i don’t know.” you answered.
you could hear eunseok let out a dry laugh from beside you. even in the darkness of his room you could make out the framed photo of you two that sat at his work desk. he followed your gaze and cleared his throat when he saw what you were looking at.
“did you enjoy your date?” eunseok asked.
“that’s none of your concern.” you quipped.
eunseok pushed off of the door, and your eyes followed his back as he walked towards his bed.
“i’ll take that as a no.” he said quietly.
when he turned around to face you, you took a step forward.
“i’m seeing him again.” you lied.
the smug look on eunseok’s face didn’t fade away as he crossed his arms again. you saw him lean against your former side the bed, head tilted as he caught onto your lie.
“oh i’m sure.” he said.
you felt the familiar rage blossom in your chest. suddenly you felt regret, reaching behind you for the doorknob.
“this was a mistake.” you seethe.
before you can turn the doorknob, eunseok takes a step towards you. when you turn the doorknob he takes another step. he clears the space between you two, and continues coming closer until you have to look up at him. eunseok moves his hand to clasp over yours on the doorknob. the warmth of his hand coaxes you to let go of the doorknob, and he brings his other hand to hold yours. you can already feel the heat across your cheeks, and you can see the blush dust across eunseok’s face the longer he looks down at you.
you don’t know why eunseok humors you even though you’re no longer together. you don’t know why he takes his time teasing you. you came to him in the middle of the night in a tight short dress after a failed date. he could’ve taken you in the hallway or the couch in the living room, god knows you deserved it. but he was gentle with you, bringing his hand to brush underneath your chin to keep your head tilted up at him.
“you don’t know why you’re here?” eunseok asked again.
you silently shook your head, knowing he’d show you why. he looked at your lips, and eunseok pressed his leg between yours. the movement made your dress ride up. you remembered that eunseok bought you this dress when he let go of your hand to reach for the zipper. he still remembered that he had to hold the fabric straight to get the zipper to work, and he pulled it down in one smooth motion. you got up from the wall to aid him, and you didn’t protest when the dress became loose on your skin. you only continued to look up at eunseok, feeling your eyes become glassy as the fabric pooled to your feet.
“you still don’t know?” he asked quietly.
eunseok brought his fingers to run over the trim of your bra, letting out a sigh when you tilted your head back in approval. you didn’t have to answer eunseok for him to know your response. he only laughed, teasingly bending down past your lips to kiss your shoulder.
when eunseok moved to your neck you brought your hands to his shoulder. you kept him there, letting your legs bend slightly to rest some of your weight on his leg. he was strong underneath you, the flexing muscle in his thigh made you want to grind against him. before you could do anything else, eunseok worked his kisses up to your ear then completely pulled away.
“let’s go to the bed.” he said.
you complied immediately, making your way to your old side of the bed as eunseok walked around.
both of your stood next to the bed, staring at the other. you waited for his instruction, but eunseok stared at you waiting for your next move. it made you swallow your nerves, and you reached behind you to undo the clasp on your bra. eunseok watched you fully clothed on the other side, completely still as you moved to your underwear. eunseok watched you push your underwear past your knees, until you could step out of them.
as you brought your arms to cross against your chest, eunseok let you watch as he pulled his shirt over his head. you looked at his toned stomach, how he ran his hand down his body before getting to the waistband of his sweats. you moved from foot to foot, trying to not make it obvious how much of a mess you were already becoming. it felt like the first time again, both of you trying to remember what your bodies looked like now. you had stretch marks like tiger stripes now, and eunseok had grown into his body. you no longer felt like the young adult you were when you first met him as eunseok pulled down his sweats to reveal his white briefs. as he reached for the waistband he motioned to the bed, silently telling you to get on first.
you pressed your hands into the foam and crawled to eunseok’s side. you sat back on your legs, perched and ready to listen. eunseok grabbed your hand that was balled up at your sides, kissing your palm after spreading out your fingers. you wanted to press your hand into his toned stomach and travel down until you could squeeze his length over the fabric of his underwear, but you let eunseok kiss every single one of your knuckles as he kept burning eye contact with you. when he let your hand fall back to the bed he reached into the top drawer of the night stand. when your mind caught quickly on you shifted on your knees.
“i’m not seeing anyone.” you said quickly.
“what about your date?” eunseok asked.
you shook your head, hoping that eunseok wouldn’t make you say it out loud. the smug smile that blossomed across his face was enough of a response.
“so no condom?” he teased.
eunseok eyed you carefully as he put the foil packet back down on his dresser. he watched you shrug your shoulders and look away, focusing on fluffing his pillows. he sits back on his haunches as he watched you get comfortable laying on your side. it’s been too long since he’s seen you like this, naked and getting ready for him. seeing the line of your body settle on his sheets makes eunseok want to tell you how much he changed. how he’s not the same twenty-year old who broke your heart by hiding his feelings. he wants to tell you that he’s a responsible adult now, and that his therapist tells him every session he’s making real progress.
when you settle onto the mattress you turn to face him. eunseok notices how you fail to hold eye contact with him longer than a second before turning away. your hand that was rubbing up and down your body goes to fraying thread on the sheets, and your eyes dart away to focus on the wall behind eunseok.
“hurry before i change my mind.” you were anything but convincing. your words had no bite as you patiently waited for eunseok to fall into his place beside you. “you should be thanking me. god knows when’s the last time you had sex.” you said.
even if you tried to seem threatening, eunseok saw your body seize in anticipation when he shifted on the bed. he took his time, going to his back first to fully take off his underwear. he enjoyed seeing you trying to take quick peaks over your shoulder to look at his bare body and hearing your nails scratch the sheets to try and collect yourself.
eunseok put his hand on the side of your knee when he shifted his body again. he ran his hands up slowly, his touch light as a feather to try and make bumps erupt across your skin. eunseok scooted his body closer to yours, his arm that was between his body and the mattress fell into place underneath your neck.
the two of you went into your old routine, muscle memory of your past together in bed guided your movements. you both told yourselves your bodies were acting on their own accord. that was the excuse echoing around in both of your heads as you scooted your body back to meet eunseok’s and why he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder blade. you gasped from the feeling, and suddenly the familiarity between you two filled the room. the closeness of your bodies was nearly blinding, you put your hand over eunseok’s that had found it’s place on your ass.
eunseok foolishly thought that this position would protect him, that not being able to see your face would help him have emotionless sex with you. but feeling your fingers seamlessly intertwine with his made his heart pound against your back. each time he tried to slightly pull back you only followed him, chasing after the warmth of him against you. he thought fast to distract you before you could point it out, he reluctantly separated his hand from yours to lift your leg, making it come over his. the change made you lean forward to put your hand on the mattress to stabilize yourself. eunseok leaned forward, and wrapped his arm that was under you across your chest to bring you close.
“the last time i had sex?” when your leg was locked over eunseok’s, he used his fingers to swipe at your folds. you preened your ass backwards, making a sound of embarrassment at how wet you were. “it was when i came over to help you with your tv, remember?” he whispered.
eunseok let the memories flood over you as both of your bodies shivered. it was months ago, you needed help putting together and setting up the brand new television you got for christmas. you were never much of the handyman, and eunseok wanted an excuse to come over to your new place. so while she was at daycare eunseok was invited over, and just like now one thing led to another until you were on top of eunseok. he remembers trying to kiss your knees that were bruised from being pressed to the ground and you told him to go away. he also remembers after the fact you used the excuse that you were lonely due to the holiday season. but now it was summer and you were moaning for him like you always used to. when eunseok pressed his lips to the side of your face you didn’t tell him to go away, you only turned your head to give him better access.
“you said you hated me then.” eunseok said.
eunseok pushed two fingers into your heat and a satisfied smile spread across his face when your lips parted. he sees you nod your head, trying to form a coherent sentence.
“i do.” you respond.
you can barely get through your sentence without your voice pitching upwards. eunseok feels you attempt to push your hips back to meet hie fingers.
“you still hate me?” eunseok slips in a third finger to try and change your mind. “after all these years?” he asks.
“i do.” you say, shaking your head.
eunseok talks your mixed signals as a sign he’s doing something right. maybe by the third time you come to him like this he will get you to say no, maybe even have you initiate the kiss first. he uses it as motivation to keep pumping his fingers into your heat, and bringing you closer by his hand that squeezes your chest.
when you try wedging your hand between your bodies to find eunseok’s dick, he moves out of the way. he shakes his head in the crook of your neck. he imagines the look of frustration on your face, the one that’s seared into the back of his eyelids as he lifts your leg. you fall forward once again from the new angle and eunseok lets you.
“fuck me please, eunseok.” you whine into the sheets.
you use the rest of your strength to push your body back to its side and you moved eunseok’s hand down your chest. he can feel your heart jumping in its cage as you continue whining for him. eunseok feels his own heart catch in his throat when he feels your desperate hand reach down to grab his dick again. he separates his clammy chest from your back and watches you grasp at the air to try and find him.
your first touch is light as a feather, as if you’re expecting eunseok to deny another one of your touches. but he only presses his forehead to your back and draws in a breath as you hold him in your hand. after the first pump it’s eunseok who’s whining. he forgot what it was like to be touched by you to the point that he has half a mind to ask you to just jerk him off like this. maybe he’ll turn you around, just so he can see your eyes blow out with lust as he finishes over your fist. maybe he will stay in this position, moaning and leaving bruises and bites along the planes of your back and shoulders to let out his frustration. but just like always does he keeps his thoughts to himself and lets you decide what you want. when your other hand pull eunseok’s fingers out of you, he leans forward and lets his hard dick press against your ass.
both of you are so desperate your movements become rushed. eunseok ruts his dick into your fisted hand from the haste, and you start spreading his precum around his tip. you pump his length a few times, just wanting to hear the content sighs and quiet gasps as eunseok tries to hold back his moans. you continue to do it, letting the slick sounds of his precum between your hands fill the room until his sighs turn to quiet whines.
“turn around.” eunseok kisses your shoulder, pressing his lips into your skin to muffle his words. when you say nothing and only continue pumping him he pulls his head back. “look at me.” he begs.
you ignore him, even though you both know you can hear. you both know that the position you’re in currently is too intimate for people who claim to hate eachother. you both know that eye contact is dangerous, that it will only bring back feelings you both put so much energy into denying. so eunseok lets you ignore him and plays off his pleads by lightly biting your skin. you moan from the pain that lights your body like a fire, and eunseok puts his hand over yours to guide his dick the rest of the way.
“ready?” eunseok asks.
eunseok says it just as quiet as his previous plead. when you nod and whimper out a yes he feels his heart drop. he knows it was an act of self preservation, but he wished to see your face. he was forced to settle for his imagination and your sounds when his tip prodded past your entrance, and he settled for your tightening grip on the sheets as he pushed in every inch until his hips kissed yours.
you sucked him in and kept his dick in place, fitting around him like a glove. there was no better feeling in the world, nothing tasted better than the salt from your skin that stayed on eunseok’s lips. he put his hand on your ass to spread you out enough to draw his hips back. he heard your nails drag across the mattress and he felt you grab his hand on your chest to steady yourself. he slid back in just as slow, cursing each time your walls sporadically seized around him.
it had been too long. eunseok was actively abandoning all of his inhibitions feeling you around him. he felt himself caring less and less about not wearing a condom the louder you got.
“i’m gonna cum if you keep clenching around me like that” he grunted into your shoulder.
eunseok moved his hand on your ass to press his hand deep into your lower stomach, causing you to push your hips further back. he swore he could feel himself inside of your stomach, and the sound that ripped from your throat made him believe you felt it too. the new angle let eunseok push his hips further into you. you could no longer hold your head upright as you let it fall into the pillows to muffle your sounds. but even with your broken moans and grabby hands you held back, trying to keep some shred of your dignity.
eunseok lifted his head to try and look down at you. he could see your eyes closed from the pleasure, and the thin sheen layer of sweat that glistened across your face. the tiny beads of sweat and your supple skin caught in the moonlight. eunseok bent down to kiss your cheek, trying to entice you to turn your head again. for the second time, eunseok could tell you were ignoring him. he forgot what you were trying to protect yourself from as he felt your walls seize around him again. you were becoming even more sporadic, and your breaths were turning into quick huffs. when your hand tightened over his, eunseok used his leg to raise yours even more. his hand on your stomach found your clit quickly, rubbing circles that complimented his thrusting. you finally turned your head from the mattress, you even turned a little further to look eunseok in the eyes.
“i’m so close, seok.” you whispered.
eunseok saw you close your eyes and catch your bottom lip between your teeth, another telltale sign of you trying to focus. you dragged his hand that gripped your chest to your neck. eunseok’s eyes that were focused on your face flitted down to your neck. his eyes widened looking down at your hand pulsing over his, shocked at you trying so desperately to take the tenderness from this moment. if eunseok squeezed his hand around your neck like you wanted, it would be easy for you both to claim this was simply just a horny mistake, a borderline hate-fuck. he made that mistake the first time—with a hand around your neck he told you how much he hated you. he looked into your eyes when he said it, trying to revel in the way your eyes flashed in pain between the moments of bliss. he didn’t mean it then but he definitely didn’t mean it now—like he said before he has changed.
so instead of pressing his fingers into the veins on the side of your neck he traveled up to your chin, turning your head so you were forced to look at him. you were shocked, eyes so wide and your face so close to his that eunseok could see himself in the reflection of your pupils. he placed a kiss right on your lips, not pulling back until he felt your lips move against his. he saw himself in your eyes again, and he sees his spit glistening on your lips. he feels himself inside of you, and he feels your warmth cover his entire being.
“i think i was made for you.”
eunseok meant to say it quietly just for himself as a silent realization, but the way you nod makes him believe it to be true. eunseok feels you get your strength back as you push your hips backwards to meet his hard and deep thrusts.
“you still are.” you moaned.
he tells himself that you are just talking to fill the void of silence. eunseok also tells himself that you can’t bring yourself to ignore him for the third time this night when you’re looking him right in eyes. regardless, eunseok can also feel himself getting closer as you clench repeatedly around his twitching dick.
“oh my god.” you moan.
eunseok pulls your body closer when he feels you shudder against him. you start driving your hips back without rhythm, trying anything you can to keep the stimulation going. eunseok still looks down at you as you cum, and he smiles at the irony of you trying so hard to keep eye contact. you give into closing your eyes when he slips a finger into your mouth, and he can feel the vibration of your moans around his digit.
when you start getting weaker, and settling into eunseok’s hold he pulls his hand from your clit to pull out. when you open your eyes again they’re glassy. they’re no longer half lidded as you grab eunseok’s wrist, stopping him from pulling out.
both of you look down at your hand. you look almost as shocked as eunseok, like something came over you to stop him from pulling out. eunseok takes it in stride, pushing back into you with a force that has you moaning around his finger. you turns your head even further to face him. he kisses the apple of your cheek and then your lips, smiling against your pout.
“you want another baby?” eunseok moved down from your cheek to your jaw. “you really wouldn’t be able to get rid of me then.” he whispered once he made it to your ear.
before you could say anything back, eunseok latched onto the skin right below your ear, sucking and pressing his teeth in the area below your jaw. the stimulation made your lower half sink further down onto the mattress, until you were relying fully on eunseok’s strength to keep your body up. memories flood back to eunseok, but the way he still remembers how you sound and respond to everything makes him think he never forgot in the first place. both of your bodies move simultaneously, when he pulls away from your neck you tilt your head to give him access to the other side. you preen your neck towards him, whimpering quietly when he lingers above the spot.
“oh my god.” you start shaking and eunseok feels your nails dig into his skin. “too much.” you whimper.
eunseok turns your head back around to press let his face rest against yours. you still suck around his fingers, and he can feel you turn your head to kiss whatever parts of his face you can reach. you still clamp around him, your cum adds to the lewd sounds that fill the room.
“can i cum inside?” eunseok asks.
eunseok closes his eyes and focuses on everything about you. he hold back until he feels your head nod against his.
“please.” you bring your hand behind you to run through his hair. “i miss you so much” you whimper around his fingers.
“i miss you more.” eunseok whispers.
he doesn’t hold back anymore as he empties into you. he turns to the crook of your neck, sucking harshly at your skin to relieve even more of the tension. when his hips still you take the lead, plating your hand onto the mattress to give your hips more stability. eunseok grips your ass, kneading the flesh desperately to try and ground himself. he pulls away from your skin to whimper into your ear.
you two can no longer speak, only communicating through the hushed sounds of euphoria. eunseok brings both of his hands to wrap around you, bringing your body as close to his as possible. you can no longer push your hips back from the new angle and that’s exactly what eunseok wants. he forces you both to stay still, to feel all of it—the way his dick pulses inside of you as he cums deep inside of you. even when eunseok gives you all he has, you both stay in that position. you both settle deeper into the bed, catching your breath as your skin doesn’t break contact.
neither of you want to be the first to speak or to force the other one to come back to reality. so you two remain silent as eunseok pulls out. you don’t say a word when eunseok turns your body around to face him, or when he pulls the covers over your sweaty bodies. he returns the favor by saying nothing when your nestle into his chest and you guide his arm to wrap around your body.
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absolutely genius of rf kuang to elaborate on virtually nothing about speer's culture. the only things said about speer are "speerlies are mindless savages" and "speerlies are most definitely not mindless savages". there are no deep dives, no explanations of their way of life, nothing beyond the glimpses that disproves nikan's belief that they are nothing but a violent group. we saw that they had leaders that cared about their people and children. we saw that they are people who found joy in life. but that's really not much.
this emphasizes the horror of genocide. millenia of culture and history, individual lives filled with love, pain, and passion, just completely wiped away. there were only two surviving speerlies. one of them was too young when he was taken away, and probably doesn't remember much. the things he did remember was also probably buried under years of abuse and drugs people were plying him with. the other one didn't even know she was from speer until the last few months of her life, and there was really no one around to teach her about their culture. and if there was, life as she knows it was falling apart. learning about her dead people's culture probably didn't even cross her mind.
without saying any of these things and by intentionally leaving readers in the dark about what speer was truly like, rf kuang said so much about the horrors of genocide. by not saying anything, she said everything. she did the "show me, don't tell me" tip for writers and it was brilliant.
we will never learn most of speer's culture and history and that was the point.
#the poppy war trilogy#the poppy war trilogy spoilers#the poppy war#the dragon republic#the burning god spoilers#the burning god#rf kuang#fang runin#altan trengsin#speer
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Best Brother Ever | h.s
Pairing: Husband!Dad!Harry x Wife!Mom!Reader
summary: a sweet Sunday afternoon with the styles family and Alex being the best big brother.
Word count: 2.6k || MASTERLIST 𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧
I got really inspired by a cute reel I saw on Facebook and since then this sweet fluff has been sitting in my drafts for months and I’m really happy with how it turned out! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do ♡ let me know your thoughts in comments! Like & reblog are truly appreciated 🥰 REQUEST ARE OPEN.
It was a peaceful Sunday morning in the Styles household, and the cozy, familiar sounds of home filled the air. In the kitchen, YN moved around with practiced ease, stirring a pot, chopping vegetables, and tasting spices with a focused concentration. She’d been at it for a while now, determined to make Harry’s mom, Anne, feel right at home with her favorite dish. In the background, 18 by One Direction played softly, and YN found herself humming along, her voice a gentle echo to the lyrics.
Though the band had gone on indefinite hiatus years ago, and each of the boys had branched off into their own solo careers, YN hadn’t stopped listening. She was a Directioner through and through, and she knew in her heart she’d never let go of those songs—they were part of her story, her history with Harry, and her dreams.
Meanwhile, in the living room, their six-year-old son, Alex, was lying on the mat with Berry, their playful family dog, gently scratching behind Berry’s ears. Berry’s tail thumped in delight, and Alex giggled as the dog rolled over, waiting for belly rubs. The two were inseparable, each one the other’s partner in mischief.
After a few minutes, Alex felt a tickle of thirst, and with his usual burst of energy, Alex stopped scratching and said, “Oh Berry didn’t you get tired of all the scratching? I know, I know you were enjoying it but it’s time for a break, I’m thirsty. You don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone! Granny likes it when you’re a good boy.” He then sprang up and ran to the kitchen, tiny footsteps echoing across the hardwood floor.
“Alex, no running in the kitchen, remember?” YN gently reminded him, glancing over her shoulder with a smile.
Alex skidded to a stop, giving her an innocent look. “Sorry, Mama.” He then carefully walked to the fridge, his small hand reaching for a water bottle. After unscrewing the cap and taking a long sip, he paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.
Looking up at his mom, he noticed how she’d been working by the stove for a while. The warmth from the flames made the kitchen a bit stuffy, and in that moment, his little mind put two and two together. Carefully holding out the bottle to her, he asked, “Mama, do you want some water too?”
YN paused, touched by the thoughtful gesture. The little boy was caring just like his father. Her heart swelled with pride and warmth at her son’s understanding, and she leaned down to pull his cheeks before pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart. That’s very thoughtful of you.”
Alex beamed up at her, delighted by her kiss, and handed her the bottle with a shy smile. YN took a small sip, her heart feeling full in the best way possible. Moments like these, simple and unassuming, were what made her life feel so complete.
YN glanced around the kitchen, realizing she hadn’t seen Harry in a while. She turned to Alex, who was still grinning from her earlier kiss, and asked, “Where’s your daddy?”
Alex paused, looking thoughtful. “He’s giving Amelia a bath!” he replied brightly.
YN chuckled, wiping her hands on a towel. “Don’t you think he’s taking a little too long?”
Without another word, Alex took off down the hall, announcing over his shoulder, “I’m gonna check!”
YN shook her head, smiling to herself as she continued stirring the pot. But barely a minute later, she heard Alex’s laughter ring out, loud and delighted, carrying all the way back to the kitchen. Curious, she wiped her hands and followed the sound down the hallway, wondering what on earth could have him so amused.
When she reached the bathroom, she found Alex standing at the doorframe, giggling uncontrollably. YN peeked over his shoulder, and the sight before her was too good not to laugh herself.
Harry stood by the sink, almost drenched, his shirt soaked and clinging to him, while his hair, wet and messy, hung down in front of his eyes. Amelia, their 15-month-old daughter, squirmed in his arms, wrapped in a fluffy towel that he was struggling to keep around her tiny, wiggling frame. Amelia, completely entertained, let out a series of squeals and giggles, delighted by the whole chaotic scene.
Harry looked up, his eyes meeting YN’s as he tried—and failed—to blow a strand of wet hair out of his face. “She’s, uh… a slippery one,” he said with a helpless smile, shifting Amelia as she kicked her tiny feet, clearly thrilled by all the attention.
YN chuckled, stepping into the bathroom to take over. “I think you’ve gotten just as much of a bath as she has,” she teased, reaching for Amelia.
“Believe me, I know,” Harry replied, surrendering his squirming daughter into YN’s arms. As soon as she was safely in her mother’s embrace, Amelia nuzzled into YN, her little face lighting up with another round of happy giggles.
Alex, still laughing, tugged at Harry’s soaked shirt. “Daddy, you’re all wet!”
Harry ruffled Alex’s hair, a lopsided grin on his face. “Well, that’s what happens when you try to bathe a little mermaid,” he joked, winking at YN.
YN smiled, cradling Amelia close as the baby snuggled into her, finally calm. Glancing up at Harry, she added with a playful grin, “Maybe next time I’ll leave the bath duty to you again. You look like you’re having way too much fun.”
Harry raised his hands in surrender, laughing. “Only if I get a raincoat next time.”
With everyone still giggling, the air filled with warmth and laughter. For YN, it was yet another reminder of how these simple, unplanned moments held the truest joy.
After drying Amelia’s soft curls and dressing her in an adorable denim overall dress, YN gave her a little pat, sending her off with Alex, who eagerly took her tiny hand. “Come on, Amelia! Let’s play in the backyard!” he declared, guiding her to the door as she toddled along, wide-eyed and giggling.
Meanwhile, Harry changed out of his soaked clothes and slipped into a comfortable hoodie and shorts. Feeling refreshed, he wandered back to the kitchen to find YN putting the finishing touches on lunch. She was focused, stirring one last pot, her face glowing with that contented look he loved.
“Smells amazing,” he murmured, slipping his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. She relaxed into him, smiling as she gave the pot one final stir.
“Thank you,” she replied, turning her head slightly to meet his gaze. “I wanted everything to be perfect for your mom.”
Harry pressed a light kiss to her cheek. “It already is perfect. Besides, Mom’s really coming to see you and the kids. I’m just… here for decoration,” he joked, earning a laugh from YN.
She turned to face him, resting her hands on his chest. “Pretty good decoration, I’d say,” she teased back, her eyes sparkling. “Can’t say I mind having you around.”
He grinned, taking her hand in his. “And I can’t say I mind this whole thing… you, me, the kids, Sunday lunches. I think we’re doing alright, don’t you?”
YN’s smile softened, her heart warmed by his words. “I’d say we’re doing better than alright.”
When lunch was ready, they carried everything to the living room and settled comfortably on the sofa, filling their plates and savoring each other’s company in the cozy quiet. Berry, their loyal dog, lay stretched out on the floor nearby, watching them with sleepy eyes, as though content to be part of their little family moment. But the peace didn’t last long; as soon as Berry heard the sound of laughter from the backyard, he was on his feet and bounding toward the door, ready to join Alex and Amelia in whatever adventure they were up to.
Harry and YN shared a glance, amused, and Harry sighed with a laugh. “Should we go see what they’re getting into out there?”
YN nodded, grinning. “Definitely.”
Hand in hand, they headed toward the backyard porch deck, hearts full and laughter on their lips, ready to join in on the joy of the afternoon.
Harry and YN strolled out into the backyard, enjoying the sight of Alex and Berry playing an enthusiastic game of chase. Alex was giggling as he kicked the ball across the grass, Berry hot on his heels, barking and wagging his tail, clearly in his element.
But their attention quickly turned to little Amelia, who was standing by the swing set, her tiny fingers gripping the seat as she attempted to climb up. She’d tugged it down a few times, her determination evident in her scrunched-up face, but every time she tried to lift her legs, they just didn’t reach. She let out a tiny, frustrated squeal, her cheeks pink with effort.
Alex spotted her from across the yard and immediately abandoned his ball game, trotting over with Berry following close behind. “I’m coming, Amy! I’ll help you,” he declared, a serious expression crossing his little face. The way he spoke, it was as if he were preparing to climb a mountain, not help his baby sister onto a swing.
He placed a comforting hand on Amelia’s shoulder, patting her gently. “Don’t worry, Amy. I’ll get you up there,” he reassured her. Berry sat down nearby, tilting his head as if watching the scene unfold with keen interest.
Alex held the swing steady, lowering it slightly to make it easier for her to grab. Amelia gave it her best shot, tugging herself forward and then clinging to her brother’s back, her small legs kicking as she tried to hoist herself up. But she kept slipping back down with a tiny thud, her face scrunched in concentration.
Seeing her struggle, Alex crouched down thoughtfully, tapping his chin with one finger like he’d seen his dad do when he was deep in thought. “Okay, hm… maybe try to use my back like a lil’ stool?” he offered, glancing up at her with a hopeful smile. “I’ll be like a step!”
Amelia’s eyes lit up, and she gave him an excited nod, as if this was the most brilliant plan she’d ever heard. Alex crouched down in front of the swing, bracing himself. “Alright, Amy, climb on!” he called out, his voice full of determination.
With a delighted giggle, Amelia leaned onto her brother’s back and clutched his T-shirt with her chubby little hands. She climbed as best as she could, trying to pull herself up—but her grip on his shirt only tightened as she clambered, her arms slipping around his neck. Alex winced, his voice coming out in a slightly strained laugh. “Amy… you’re kinda… choking me,” he gasped, though he kept steady, determined to help her however he could.
Harry and YN watched from nearby, biting back their laughter as Alex tried to be the perfect big brother, his determination and care making them both melt a little inside. Berry, still sitting close by, tilted his head again, ears perked as he followed every bit of the action.
Eventually, Alex, catching his breath, stood up, looking down at his sister with a thoughtful frown. “Alright, Amy, let’s try it another way,” he said, more determined than ever to help her reach her goal.
He pointed at the swing seat with a very serious expression, bending down to her level. “Just try to sit on it. Right here,” he said, gesturing to the exact spot where she should aim. “Watch, I’ll show you.”
With exaggerated care, he climbed onto the swing himself, wiggling around on the seat to demonstrate how to sit properly. Then he hopped off and held the swing firmly in place again, giving her an encouraging nod. “Okay, now you try.”
Amelia looked at him, wide-eyed with admiration for her big brother, and then turned back to the swing. She grasped it carefully with both hands, her face full of concentration, and this time, after a few wobbly attempts, she managed to pull herself up, finally plopping down on the seat with a triumphant squeal.
Alex’s face broke into a huge grin. “You did it, Amy!” he cheered, clapping his hands. “You’re a big girl now!”
Amelia giggled, her cheeks flushed with excitement, and Alex gave the swing a gentle push, sending her gliding back and forth, her delighted squeals filling the backyard. Each time she swung forward, she let out a little giggle, her laughter filling the air.
Harry and YN stood side by side, their arms wrapped around each other as they watched Alex carefully push Amelia on the swing. Her joyful squeals mixed with the gentle creak of the swing, and Alex’s steady encouragement filled the air. Berry trotted nearby, tail wagging, occasionally glancing up as if to make sure everything was under control.
Harry tightened his arm around YN’s shoulders, pulling her close as he shook his head in admiration. “He’s… he’s really the best big brother, isn’t he?” he said, his voice soft with awe. “Look at him—so gentle with her, so patient. I can’t believe he’s only six.”
YN beamed, her eyes fixed on their son as she watched him push Amelia with such care, his face serious with concentration, as if he were on an important mission. “I know,” she replied, her voice warm with pride. “He’s amazing with her, isn’t he? Always looking out for her, always so sweet. I feel like we’re really… doing something right.”
Harry looked down at her, a playful glint in his eyes. “Well, I think you’re doing most of it right,” he teased, bumping her shoulder with his. “I’m just here to make sure they know how to make a mess and have fun.”
YN laughed, nudging him back. “Oh, please, Harry—you’re their hero. Every time you walk in, they light up. You’re like their personal superhero.”
Harry chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know about ‘superhero,’ but… seeing them like this, watching them take care of each other? That’s everything.” He paused, his gaze softening as he looked back at Alex and Amelia. “They’re so lucky to have each other. And I think… we’re pretty lucky to have them, too.”
YN nodded, her heart swelling as she took in the scene—their two little ones, working together, supporting each other in their own innocent, unfiltered way. “It’s moments like these that make it all worth it, don’t they?” she murmured, leaning her head against his shoulder. “All the late nights, all the messy meals and chaotic mornings… all of it. Seeing them happy, and kind, and just… them.”
Harry gave her a soft smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We’ve got a good thing going, don’t we?” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I couldn’t imagine a better team than this. You and me… and these two.” He gestured toward Alex and Amelia, his eyes crinkling with pride. “We’re doing something right, YNN. I know we are.”
Just then, Alex looked over his shoulder and spotted his parents watching. His face lit up with pride, and he called out, “Look, Mum! Dad! Amy’s swinging! I got her up here all by myself!”
YN and Harry exchanged a warm glance before waving back, beaming with pride. “You’re the best big brother, Alex!” YN called out, giving him a big thumbs-up. “Amy’s so lucky to have you.”
Alex’s cheeks flushed with pride, and he turned back to Amelia, giving her swing another gentle push. “Did you hear that, Amy? Mum and Dad said I’m the best big brother ever!” he whispered to her, smiling from ear to ear.
Watching him, Harry gave YN’s hand a gentle squeeze. “We’re raising some pretty great kids, aren’t we?” he murmured, his eyes sparkling with pride. “If nothing else, I’d say we’re getting that part just right.”
YN looked up at him, her eyes shining. “Couldn’t agree more.”
#harry styles#harry edward styles#one direction#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fluff#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles story#harry styles writing#hs#harry#harry styles imagine#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles fanfic#styles#harry styles fiction#fluff#harryssyndrome
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Let’s do IT for our country
Pairing- President!Robert “Bob” Floyd x reader
Warnings- smut smut and more smut, breeding kink, language, mentions of pregnancy, us politics, I think that’s it?
Summary- Robert Floyd had never wanted to be the president, but here in the Oval Office on inauguration night with his First Lady? He could get used to nights like this.
A/N- It’s that time again! Another IBFFM, but this time with an older version of our sexy WSO. Mr. President is about 45 here, his First Lady is in her mid 30’s.
Also it’s @bobgasm ‘s birthday present!! Happy birthday to my precious Steph, love you so much baby!!
For as long as he could remember, Robert Floyd had been told he would be great.
His family name was synonymous with the likes of Kennedy and Roosevelt, the Floyd’s were some of the most influential in political history, and with that came high expectations. You must go to a prestigious college, you must serve your country (whether that be as a civil servant or military member), and you must marry the right kind of person. They talked about it as if they were breeding horses, and it never made any sense to him, so long as he found someone kind and supportive all of the bullshit that his family expected mattered very little to him. He would tick off whatever boxes they wanted, but it would be on his own terms.
He went to the US Naval Academy after high school, refusing to hop onto the Ivy League lifestyle his grandfather so desperately cherished. Moving on to aviation as a WSO and then becoming one of the top 1% in the country in his field. It was a distinguished career to be sure, but he’d been adamant that he had no interest in pursuing a political career, and certainly not the presidency.
He still wasn’t sure what had brought him to this point, or how he’d somehow managed to bag his dream girl in the process. A feisty junior senator from Delaware, good family, strong morals and drop dead gorgeous to boot, you’d been his match in every way. Sure you had hated his guts, he was the golden boy and you had dealt with his kind your whole life. But after a particularly long day in the senate he’d asked you to dinner, and while you’d had half a mind to tell him no the prospect of a free meal wasn’t worth passing up. So in a dingy dive bar with greasy burgers and cheap beer, you took a chance on him and fell ridiculously in love.
Four years had passed since you’d both sat in the creeky wooden booths of that shitty bar, and it felt simultaneously like yesterday and a lifetime ago. His family had pushed him into politics and while he had been adamant in the beginning that he would never pursue the presidency, the world had changed dramatically since he first refused the mantle. He may have hated the pageantry of it all, but at his core he truly did want to help people, and they certainly took notice. He’d run a clean and honest campaign with his best girl by his side, and won in a landslide. Everything moved very quickly from Election Day to Inauguration Day, it almost felt like he had blinked and he was here, wandering the halls of the west wing after skipping out on the last two of 10 gaudy inaugural balls he’d been forced to attend. He’d been going since sunrise and still couldn’t seem to get the jitters under control so he could rest; he suspected it would be quite a while before that feeling went away. Shaky hands moved to open the door to the Oval Office, completely renovated and designed by his beautiful wife to fit his style and personality, you’d made sure he would want for nothing, he’d be spending so much time in this room and it seemed only logical to make it a calm and safe space for him and his thoughts. It felt so much like his office at home, even down to the worn leather chair and the soft scent of sandalwood and tobacco from the candles you bought because it reminded you of him. You had told him you’d be heading to change and wouldn’t be gone long, he had plans to unwind with a bottle of bourbon and maybe a game or three of checkers, but as you slipped into the spacious and hallowed room belonging to the commander in chief, he nearly jolted out of his skin. There you were, his First Lady, in a skimpy little silk robe, intricate updo long gone in favor of soft curls, and the adorable little fuzzy cat slippers that he’d bought you for Christmas.
“Good evening Mr. President” you said with a smirk as you locked the door and padded over to his desk. You’d chosen well, the beautiful mahogany writing table had belonged to Theodore Roosevelt, and while it hadn’t been used in many a president’s term, you had made sure it was painstakingly restored and ready for his first day. Now that you were here, all he could seem to think of is how much fun it might be to test the sturdiness of the surface, perhaps he did need to blow off a little steam after such a stressful day…
“Sweet girl, you do realize there’s cameras everywhere right?” He said as you pushed his chair back just enough to fit between his thighs, very gently sitting on the edge of the antique escritoire. This desk had seen many a scandal, so many historical events, and you were quite sure she should handle the weight of what you had planned next.
“Already got that covered, Phoenix is on surveillance right now, you can go ahead and go dark Nat!” You said in the general direction of where they’d mentioned cameras were placed, a notification on your phone let you know she’d confirmed that the two of you had thirty minutes all to yourselves and you broke out in a blinding grin as you leaned forward to press a kiss to Bob’s jawline. The sharp intake of breath and his hands immediately going to your hips let you know he’d need this just as much as you, it had been embarrassingly long since the two of you had been together, and you filed away the notion that you would need to make sure you had the right security in play to make quickies like this a regular occurrence, policy be damned.
You’d drawn his lips to yours as you untied his tie and began unbuttoning the front of his dress shirt, his hands had drifted to palming your ass as he licked the seam of your mouth, a gasp from you was all he needed to slide his tongue against yours, squeezing you a little more roughly and all but pulling you into the plush office chair.
“Fuck I missed you,” he breathed into your mouth, you’d nearly gotten his dress shirt removed when he slotted his knee between your legs, large hands gripping the back of your thighs as he placed you back on the desk, this time swiping whatever loose papers off the top and sending them cascading across the plush carpet that held the presidential seal. You squealed and giggled, watching with rapt attention as he removed his dress shirt and exposed the defined freckled skin of his arms, pulling his undershirt off with less finesse as it joined the pile of papers on the floor. “I’ve never found a president to be sexy until just this moment, I have to admit, you look damn good in this office, sir” you said as you leaned back on your palms and ogled him, heat crept up his cheeks and chest at your praise, but his eyes had darkened at the honorific, you knew exactly what you were doing to him, and he could feel his dress slacks getting uncomfortably tight as you ran your bare feet up and down the back of his legs.
“You wanna be a good girl for me Madame First Lady? Let me lay you out and devour you where anyone could walk in?” His voice grew impossibly deeper and you let out a whimper in response, shifting to try and get some relief. You did want that, you wanted it so badly you could scream, it was the very thought of being dirty and unladylike for the man you loved that had you so hot and bothered, and he trailed one long finger down your sternum to remove your robe, fire in his eyes as he opened the sash and found you completely bare for him.
“Goddamn it, should have known you’d do this, you know exactly how to wind me up don’t ya? Whole world wants to know how to bring me to my knees and all they’d have to do is weaponize you and this perfect pussy.” He was completely fixated on your arousal glistening between your legs, and while normally you’d let him take his time, you knew it wouldn’t be long before some aid or agent came by to make sure he had everything he needed for the evening. If they only knew.
“Bobby, please? Don’t have a lot of time baby” you said as you squirmed on the polished wood and searched for some kind of relief. He seemed to snap out of his haze as lust clouded eyes fixed on yours, letting his index finger trail down your stomach and through your folds, watching your head fall back and chest heave at his teasing.
“Need to hear you say it sweet girl, you know what I want.” You blushed in earnest, he loved how dirty you could get, but that had always been behind closed doors in the comfort of your own home, you’d be mortified if anyone heard some of the things you’d said in the throes of pleasure; but it was his big day after all. If he wanted it, you’d give him the moon.
“Need your mouth on me Daddy, want you to make me cum and then fuck me with your big dick. Please? Please give it to me, ‘s been too long, fuck - I-“ you babbled at him as he continued to rub that one long finger up and down, it was maddening and had you choking on your words, thankfully he didn’t make you wait, spreading you open and pressing two fingers into you as he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around your clit. The relief was immediate, you moaned out into the empty room as he went to work on your aching pussy, drawing tight circles with this tongue as he scissored his fingers inside you. It had been weeks and he knew he’d need to get you ready, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was going insane over the little noises you made and the iron grip you had on his hair, tugging at his scalp as you bucked up into his pretty face to search for your release.
It was startling how fast he got you there, you were certain you were dripping down onto the desk now, wet smacks and moans coming from between your thighs as you peeked down to look at his deep cerulean eyes. He was too damn good at this and he knew it, had the audacity to wink at you as he nibbled on your clit and with a gasp you came all over his face, watching as he wiped his mouth with his arm and smirking like the cocky bastard he was. He controlled the entire free world now, but he would still consider it his greatest accomplishment that he could render his pretty wife to a babbling needy mess with his tongue. Disheveled looked good on you, blush spread across your cheeks and chest, hair a mess, and your release all over your thighs from what he intended to be one of at least three mind blowing orgasms.
You looped your heavy arms around his neck and kissed him languidly, you didn’t seem to be as worried about the time anymore and for that he was thankful. He wanted to take his time, and if somebody walked in they would find out very quickly to knock, he couldn’t give a shit about anything other than getting his cock inside you.
You knew the rule all too well; no visible marks. It had been that way from the very beginning, which was unfortunate because you wanted so badly to mark his pretty neck up and make sure everyone knew he was yours, but the compromise was that you could leave them anywhere below the collarbone, so as he fished for the condom he’d stashed in his pocket (hoping to end the night just like this), you licked down his neck and began nibbling on the flesh of his pecks, sucking a nipple into your mouth and looking up at him as his jaw went slack. “Oh Christ, you gotta stop that baby or we’ll be finished before we even get started” he panted out and tried not to buck up into you, the hand gripping your thigh was sure to leave a mark but you couldn’t give a shit, there was something so powerful in being able to bring the most powerful man on earth to his knees, and even better knowing that he was insatiable for you.
“Then fuck me Mr. President, and you don’t need that condom either. I think you should put a baby in me, fill me up so good that I’m dripping with you all day tomorrow.” You grinned at him but he looked completely debauched, he ran a hand through his graying sandy locks and blinked down at you, almost at a loss for words.
“You little minx, you’ve been just waiting all day to drop that on me haven’t you? Need me to cum in that pretty pussy and get you good and knocked up? Fuck you’d think it was my birthday or something, I don’t know how I got it so good.” He said as he spread you out and ran his hands all over you, you were whimpering and grinding into him and he was sure he’d pass out if he was any harder, slipping himself out of his briefs and sliding his length through your slick. You were trying hard to be quiet, sure it was late but there was bound to be someone on watch, Bob gripped your chin as he slid into you and kissed you sloppily, all teeth and tongue and moans, shallow thrusts to get you ready turned rough when you sucked his bottom lip and pushed your hips up to take him to the hilt. You gripped the front of the desk behind your head and let him pound you into it, the need for quiet long forgotten as you alternated between crying out and calling him daddy.
It didn’t take him long before he was close, the aftershocks of your second orgasm seemed to keep him gripped so tight that he could barely think straight, he was furiously rubbing your clit to get you there again as he watched tears drip down your flushed cheeks, he’d never forget tonight for the rest of his life. Not all the fanfare, not even the immense weight of the mantle he was about to take, but this moment right here, wrapped up in his gorgeous wife as he fucked her silly in the Oval Office. You wailed out “I’m cumming” as you gripped him tight with your pulsing heat and he tumbled over the edge right along with you, warming you from the inside out as he filled you up.
You cradled his sweaty form in your arms as you both came down from your high, giggles erupting from him as it really set in what you two had done.
“Ah shit, well everyone’s gonna know that we can’t keep our hands to ourselves after this, I imagine the press will have a field day.” He kissed your nose as you grinned at him, both of you still joined together but neither of you ready to separate.
A loud ring came from his phone and it sent a jolt through both of you, wide eyes trained on his as he leaned forward and grabbed it off the hook. His eyes were full of mirth as he nodded his head once, twice and bid them goodnight, pinching your cheek with his free hand before hanging up.
“What was that all about?” You said, trying to push him up so you could get decent and off his desk.
“That was Nat, she said we need to hurry the hell up before me going MIA causes a national emergency.” He was joking of course, but the secret service agents at the door couldn’t look either of you in the eye as you shuffled down the hallway with Bob’s hand in yours, and it was no surprise to anyone when you turned up pregnant by the state of the union.
Tagging- @bobgasm @attapullman @bobfloydsbabe @floydsglasses @sebsxphia @roosterforme @sunsetsimpsblog @seitmai @auroralightsthesky @withahappyrefrain @hangmanapologist
#top gun maverick#bob floyd#top gun maverick fanfiction#bob floyd smut#bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd#robert floyd#robert bob floyd x reader#top gun au#presidential au#top gun fanfiction#top gun#international bob floyd fucks month#ibff
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For Anyone But Us (Criston Cole x Alicent's Daughter!reader)
A/N: Sorry Daeron, you didn’t exist here either
Summary: You had grown up with Ser Criston as your protector, and almost a father figure. You didn’t know when exactly you began to crave him in carnal ways, in ways that had you blushing redder than a summer strawberry and running to hide away. But now you can handle it no longer. You must have him.
Word count: 3,867
Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap, oral f & m receiving, handjob, smut smut smut, self-hating, slightly manipulative reader (??), daddy issues, sexualising a father figure, era-typical negative view of sex, (please let me know if I missed any)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so.
Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)
You sat in your mother’s quarters, embroidery on your lap and a gentle melody humming from your lips. She was answering letters at her writing table while you reclined on her couch, enjoying the sudden breeze that had settled upon king’s landing and blew through her open windows. Occasionally you looked up to Ser Criston, standing stoic as ever by the door, and offered him a joyful little smile, one which he returned in his own muted way.
Since you were born, you have been your mother’s constant companion. From her breast to her lap to her side, you have spent almost your entire life beside her. You are her youngest child, the apple of her eye by far, and the one that looks most like her. When you cried, she was the only one to comfort you, when you showed an interest in music, she had the best musicians come to foster your talent, when you said you wanted to learn history, she had as many books as would fit in your chambers brought from the library. You may be half Targaryen, but you will always be Alicent’s daughter.
Due to being your mother’s constant companion, you soon became one for Ser Criston as well. Alicent trusted no guard more than Ser Criston and so he often had the task of being your carer. He has soothed your tears and washed your cuts when you’ve played too hard. He has tickled you until your laughs became shrieks and been the first to compliment every single one of your new dresses. You have grown up watching Ser Criston be your mother’s protector, be your protector. When you think of safety, you think of his face. So it makes sense that when you look upon his face as he watches out the window, a stoic set to his lips and brow, that your chest heats up and an errant throb pangs between your legs?
You don’t really remember when you started feeling this way for him. You vividly remember one night, a feast for some celebration or other, and your mother had gifted you a new dress made of silk dyed in thin red water to make the prettiest baby pink. The maids had done your hair with intricate braids and curls that fell down your back but left your neck and chest exposed. You had rushed out of your room and found Ser Criston first, hopping in front of him to show off the dress. You had spun around in excitement, swishing the skirt of your dress back and forth and asking him what he thought. He had said you were the most beautiful girl in the world with a smile on his face and those dark eyes of his that never truly softened and kept a certain harsh quality to them. Your whole chest had turned red and your stomach had twisted in the most pleasurable way and you had wanted him to watch you for the rest of eternity. Even during the feast you had kept standing by him despite your siblings scolding you to mingle, pouting like a child if he turned his attention away from you for even a minute.
Another memory, only a few years past, when Aegon had said something to upset you and you had come sobbing to your mother. After soothing your tears she had left you in her quarters under the watchful eye of Ser Criston to go and scold Aegon. You had sidled up to him, asking if whatever taunt Aegon had made was true. He had been quick to shush you, telling you that Aegon was a young man and he could still be stupid, that you needn’t take everything he said to heart. You had pressed yourself to his chest then, wrapping your arms around the armour on his midriff. He had gently rubbed your back for a few moments before clearing his throat and pulling away, guiding you back to the couch and bringing you whatever embroidery project you had left on the side table. But the feeling of his large hand on your back, his palm and fingers spanning so wide, his smell and even the look of his skin from so close had stuck inside your mind and body and you had tossed and turned that entire night to thoughts of him.
You startled out of your thoughts of the man when your mother abruptly stood from her chair, tutting as she mumbled to herself about the time. You knew she was overdue to tea with Larys Strong so you smiled cheekily at her as she breezed past you, pressing a kiss to your head before heading to the door.
“Ser Criston, stay here with Y/n, I shall take Ser Berrill with me to my meeting,” and she was out the door before Criston could nod his assent.
You smiled then, looking to where Ser Criston stood and abandoning your embroidery to skip over to him. He smiled at you, bowing his head in greeting and you giggled. Criston didn’t know when that had become his favourite sound in the world but it was better than even the Septon bells on a wedding day.
“I think I shall head back to my quarters Ser Criston, accompany me?” You asked, reaching to grab his arm and threading yours through his. Criston cleared his throat and nodded, his neck and cheeks going hot at the feeling of your body pressed so close to his side. It was inappropriate for a girl of your age and stature to be standing so close to him. But you had been doing this all your life, and despite the whispers that now began to pervade the keep about this behaviour, you refused to stop. (And of course Ser Criston was incapable of saying no to you).
Criston opened the door and led the way out into the hallway, walking slow enough for you to keep pace with him. You were chattering on about something or other, he was too busy surveying your surroundings to fully pay attention, and the glimpse of your breasts that he caught every time he looked down to you was enough for him to keep his eyes away from your form completely.
“...and that’s why Aemond has cemented his place as my favourite brother.” You giggled and he couldn’t help but look down to you again, smiling distractedly when he caught sight of the way your breasts curved under your emerald green gown, at the slight bumps of your nipples that he could see through the fabric.
“He is a true prince of the realm and a great brother for you, Princess,” Criston answered, hoping it would be enough of an answer for you. You smiled and nodded and began on another story but stopped as you reached the doors to your chambers. You paused outside the door, opening and closing your mouth a few times. You chewed at the tip of the nail on your index finger and looked up at Criston with big doe eyes that had his entire body clenching up.
“Ser Criston… would you come into my chambers with me? I don’t particularly feel like being alone right now.” You were twisting side to side at the waist lightly, hoping he would cave.
“I do not think that is appropriate Princess,” he replied quietly, voice going low and gruff.
“Please, Ser Criston? There is nothing wrong with my protector joining me in my chambers,” you argued, eyes going teary.
“Princess…” he sighed, shaking his head. “We may know we are not doing anything scandalous but others will not know. I will not be responsible for anyone questioning your honour.” You sighed, almost admitting defeat, before looking up at him once more.
“What if there is someone in there right now, waiting to destroy my honour? Then it would be irresponsible of you not to accompany me into my chambers,” you smiled triumphantly, before quickly pouting again when you remembered that cheekiness would not work in your favour.
“Do not speak of such things Princess,” he replied sharply, swallowing aggressively at the thought of someone daring to come close to you with those intentions.
“Then do not risk it Ser Criston and accompany me into my chambers,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. Criston sighed once more before nodding in acquiescence. He knew you would always win, it was only a matter of how long he was willing to fight against you.
You smiled brightly and grabbed onto his arm, dragging him into the room with you and shutting the door firmly behind you, sliding the lock closed before Criston could even realise you had done it.
You leaned back against the door and watched him stand in the middle of the room, looking around the entire room before deeming it safe for you. He turned back to you and saw the mischievous smile on your face before sighing once more.
“The room is safe Princess, I must return to my guardpost now,” he said, but he knew it would be easier said than done leaving now that he was inside. You just shook your head, continuing to block the door.
“But I don’t feel safe Ser Criston, you must stay and continue protecting me,” you whined, rushing forward and falling to your knees right in front of him. You clasped one of his hands between yours and pouted as he began trying to get you to stand up. If someone walked in now and saw the princess on her knees in front of a knight, he would be sent to death quicker than he could pray for forgiveness.
“Stand up Princess, please, you should not be on the floor,” he sounded pained, holding onto your elbows and trying to get you to stand without yanking you up. You just shook your head and did something that made his heart stop directly in his chest. You brought his hands to your lips and gently kissed the backs of both, staring up at him from under fluttering eyelashes.
“This is exactly where I should be, Ser Criston. You have protected me my entire life, you have cared for me like no other, loved me like no other. I am devoted to you even beyond the gods. It is only right that I show you my devotion, show you my thanks, right here on my knees.” All breath abandoned him as he looked upon you, innocent and pure, on your knees with your face right by his cock. He swallowed harshly, shaking his head. No, no, no. He could not do this. He had abandoned his vows once already. And while he wholeheartedly believed that if he abandoned them with you then it wouldn’t be a waste as it had been with Rhaenyra, the thought of sullying you, of allowing himself to feel all that… heat and desperation, filled him with a shame that would eventually kill him.
“Princess, please heed my words, you cannot do this, we cannot do this. You say I have protected you my entire life, and it is from this too I have protected you. From the men who wish to steal your honour and sully your body. I will not be one of them.” He wanted to sound firm but it came out pleading, almost verging on a desperate whine that had you frowning and tilting your head.
“I only want you, Ser Criston. I don’t want any other, and I know I never will. You have never denied me anything, please do not deny me this,” your lip began to wobble and tears pooled so quickly in your eyes that they began to spill over before he could try and sway you away. You began to blubber and he dropped to his knees awkwardly in his armour,
“Please don’t cry Princess, please don’t cry,” he begged, throwing off his gloves and cupping your face with his hands as you began to sniffle. His skin was rough and warm and you rubbed your cheek into his palm like a puppy.
“You will not be sullying me, you will still be protecting me. If you do this for me then I will know what love feels like and I will know how to judge a suitor. I-I will know what pleasure feels like,” you added shyly, leaning closer to him. “You will only be teaching me. There is nothing wrong with teaching, you have been teaching me and my brothers since we were children.”
Criston sighed and shook his head, grunting at the battle that waged a war in his head. He closed his eyes, knowing that if he kept looking at you he would break much too quickly. He shouldn’t be feeling like this for you. He shouldn’t be feeling like this for anyone. It was wrong to be such a lustful creature. But you whimpered and whined in his hands, turning to press open-mouthed kisses against his palms and he could feel the cracks appearing in his resolve along with his shame. When you took his index finger into your mouth, sucking on it like a child with a treat, the feeling of your warm, wet, mouth had spikes of hot pleasure shooting through his body and any remaining resolve dissolving as easier than salt into water.
Criston moaned, too loud for his liking, and his breath shook out of him, head bowing as he panted against his chest. You could see the change in him, could see that you had won as his free hand began to roughly tug at the straps of his chestplate. It fell away and clattered onto the floor as you continued sucking on his finger, swirling your tongue around the digit. Criston sucked in a breath before pulling his finger from your mouth, cupping your cheek with the same hand and spreading your spit over your face. He pulled you into a kiss, a harsh thing that had you gasping and keening and yelping slightly when your bottom lip pinched between his mouth and your teeth. But all bonds on him had been unleashed, and he was ravenous.
You fell against him, becoming just as desperate though with far less experience. You shoved your hands into his hair and pressed your chest to his, settling yourself onto his lap as he fell back onto the floor, torso held up by his elbows. He plunged his tongue into your mouth while you collected your skirts into your hands so you could sit on him without any intrusion. Criston pulled away from you, panting against your mouth for a moment before gently shoving you off and standing up again. He began undoing the rest of his armour and you sat on your knees and watched him. His hair was mussed from your hands and his cheeks had gone rosy pink. You heard the clanks of metal as each piece fell away and more of his body was revealed to you. The soft clothes he wore underneath were next, his shirt pulled over his head and tossed to the side without a care in the world.
The soft bronze skin of his abdomen was taut and curved along each defined muscle. A light dusting of dark hair sat along his chest and trailed down his stomach until it disappeared below his breeches. You couldn’t handle being away from him any longer, a desperate heat crawling over your skin as if bugs had begun buzzing under your skin.
You shuffled forward on your knees until you were right before him. You pressed a hand to the warm skin of his stomach, lightly scratching your nails down toward the waist of his pants. He shuddered, curling forward slightly and resting a hand on your shoulder.
“Princess…” he sighed, but he didn’t stop you either.
You slipped your fingers into the waistband and slowly began to move it down. His cock caught in it before popping out and gently slapping against his abdomen. You stared at it, mouth suddenly full of saliva and legs trembling. You reached out and grasped it, the skin soft and burning hot. The tip was bright red and glistening, a small pearl dribbling out of it and sliding down the length. Another pearl dribbled onto your hand and you tightened your hold on him, listening to the gasps and moans he let out. You didn’t know where the desire to kiss it, to lick it, came from but you didn’t deny a single thing your body desired. You leaned forward and licked just under the head of his cock, smacking your lips slightly to try and decipher what exactly the taste was, before going in for another lick. You ran your tongue up the length of his shaft and back down. The hand on your shoulder clenched tight into your gown and pulled you closer to him. You opened your mouth wide and took the head just past your lips, suckling on it. You stared up into Criston’s face, his mouth open as he panted and moaned like he was in the most pain a man had ever felt. The sounds of your mouth smacking as you suckled on his cock echoed into the room and you rubbed your legs together. It sounded so wrong but oh so good.
You pulled off of his length before going back to drag long licks along the length of his shaft. Everywhere you could reach you licked until Criston was keening loudly and pulling away.
“Princess! Princess, please,” he huffed, cupping your face as you sat there staring up at him. You reached to your back and pulled on the ties to unlace your dress as much as you could on your own. The top loosened and the collar fell below your breasts, baring them to the cool air and the eyes of your protector. Your nipples had pebbled and you shivered as the cool air of the keep brushed over your skin.
Criston stood you up and you allowed the dress to fall fully to your waist, smiling unashamedly as he continued to stare at your body. You wanted him to see you, to see every part of you. You loved him like you had loved no other, and you wanted to show him somehow. He led you to your bed, sitting on the edge and staring up at you. He bent forward and kissed the space between your breasts, rubbing his cheeks against the flesh on either side of his head. He breathed in the smell of your skin, kissing along the softness to your left nipple. He swirled his tongue over it, flicking it, before engulfing it with his mouth and sucking lightly. His mouth felt too hot against your skin and you moaned as you leaned back slightly to continue watching him.
Criston pulled away and cupped your other breast, massaging it and rubbing the nipple with the pad of his thumb. It felt almost ticklish on the sensitive skin but sparks shot through you all the same.
“Ser Criston,” you whimpered, pressing your chest further into his hand and hoping he would put his mouth back to the skin.
“Yes, Princess, yes,” he said hurriedly, but instead of returning to your breasts, he bent at the waist and brought his face to your pussy. You gasped, his thumbs resting against either side and peeling your sticky lips apart.
You had felt the slick begin to seep out of you and slowly spread from your hole and over your lips, but to see his face begin to press between your thighs, to feel his thumbs gently rub the soft skin and hear the way he inhaled deeply as he settled his chin on the crevice of your thighs had you moaning louder than you ever had before.
“We must be quiet Princess,” he whispered, but you paid it no heed as he dove his tongue between your thighs right then.
His tongue was hot and wet, the rough bumps rubbing deliciously against the sensitive skin of your pussy. He licked from bottom to top before focusing on a little nub near the top of the crevice, suckling on it so heat shot straight through you and your legs buckled. You were bowing over him now, nails digging into the skin of his back as you rested on his shoulder, panting and wailing. He lapped at your cunt like a dog drinking water, desperate and aggressive. He slurped and pressed his face as far as it would go into your flesh. You could feel his chin rub against the skin of your thighs, slipping and sliding in the juices that had dribbled out of you. From this angle only the tip of his tongue could reach your hole and he pushed it in just so, pulling it out and pushing it back in so your entrance clenched and unclenched over it, the rim becoming sensitive.
“Ser Criston!” You wailed, bucking against his face as he moved it back and forth, his nose rubbing against that swollen little nub that made you feel like the world was bursting behind your eyes.
You pressed your mouth to his back, and in a fleeting moment of clarity remembered that he needed to reach his release as well. You slid one of your hands between your bodies and grasped his cock, choking on a gasp when he moaned right into your flesh and the vibrations spread through every nerve ending. You grasped him tighter and he hissed. You mumbled apologies into his skin before beginning to jerk your hand back and forth along his shaft, listening to the squelch of not only his mouth on your pussy but his cum spreading over his shaft beneath your hand. The pleasure rose within you, his hips bucked frantically up into your hand, your legs twitched uncontrollably, your skin was on fire. Everything felt like it was moving too fast all of a sudden, a wave rising in your legs and stomach and deep in your core. He was moaning against you and the vibrations finally sent you over the edge, heat and overwhelming pleasure throbbing through you. Your fingers twitched and your arms felt like jelly and your ears were rushing with blood. You couldn’t hear Criston’s moans as he spurted onto your thighs and hands, as he pressed his face to your stomach and moaned.
When your ears quieted you could hear the mingling of both of your panted breaths, could feel the saliva that had drooled from your mouth and smeared onto his back under your cheek. Your weight was completely resting over his shoulder and you could feel the stickiness all along your thighs, the breeze beginning to cool it and sending shivers down your spine. Your hand was sticky and you slowly peeled it away from his cock. Criston shivered and slowly brought you off his shoulder and into his lap. You stared into his eyes, deep brown and endless. He leaned down and kissed you, lips salty and slick.
“Thank you, Ser Criston,” you said, smiling against his mouth.
Taglist: @autumnhymns
#hotd x reader#hotd#hotd fanfic#house of the dragon#criston cole x you#criston cole#criston cole x reader#criston cole x oc#ser criston#alicent hightower#queen alicent#alicent's daughter reader#team green#hotd smut#smut#fanfic#fanfiction
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AU where Eddie’s mom manages to get away from Eddie’s dad when he’s a small child, goes to the only place she knows is truly safe: Wayne.
Wayne takes them in no questions asked, helps her raise Eddie, makes sure his dad never comes around (maybe works with Hopper once he’s named Chief to make sure he gets behind bars as soon as possible).
So Eddie gets the love of his mom, and the love of his Uncle Wayne, and shit is still hard, money is still tight, he still has trouble fitting in, but it doesn’t distract him from school so much.
He graduates his first try, squeaks by with Cs and Bs because he’s smart, he’s just so easily distracted. Even gets into the community college, but has no idea what he wants to do until his mom is helping him with a pre-req English course. She says he’s naturally good at unpacking a story for anyone to understand it -“even when I ain’t the brightest star in the sky”- and he realizes maybe his talent of telling stories and helping people understand stories could make him a good English teacher.
Now that he has a plan, he’s focused, invested on getting into a university so he can be certified to teach. But he still struggles with math and unfortunately, he has to pass to move on.
That’s where Steve Harrington, freshman at Hawkins Community and Technical College, comes in. This isn’t the Steve that Eddie remembers from high school at all: he’s quiet and shy, doesn’t make eye contact, is really fucking smart.
Steve agrees to tutor him if Eddie agrees to help him with his final paper in his English course, a 10 page fictional exploration of a time in history.
“Use your imagination!” “Just pretend you’re writing a memoir.” “This is the longest sentence I’ve ever read and that includes Tolkien books.”
Steve blushes, makes corrections when Eddie suggests them, makes flash cards with formulas for Eddie to memorize for his exam.
They spend nearly every day working together, studying together, tutoring each other.
When Eddie passes his exam, he’s so excited, he runs right to the library, where he knows Steve is putting the final touches on his paper. He doesn’t even wait to catch his breath from running across campus to kiss him.
And suddenly Eddie isn’t the only one out of breath.
#someone wanna write this?#someone please take this away from me#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#this could be the 80s or modern tbh#I just think it’s neat to put them in all the situations#migraine thoughts are going crazy today sorry
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At The Pleasure Of The Crown (Part 2)
Summary: Aegon and his wife regularly visit the silk streets. One night they happen upon Aemond behind one of the curtains, the rest is history.
18+ ONLY MDNI Targcest, smut, infidelity, manipulation, etc.
Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader
Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader
Part 1
Aegon and Aemond have been at war from the time they were boys. Over what exactly, neither can say. For Aegon’s part, he’s never truly known the love of his mother, not the way Aemond did. Mayhaps that is where it started.
The tree remembers, the axe forgets.
Despite the teasing his elder brother inflicted upon him, Aemond wanted only to win his approval; and that of his father. Marrying Y/N boosted Aegon’s worth in Viserys’ eyes, while Aemond remained the boy irreparably damaged, over an insult.
The tree remembers, the axe forgets.
Then of course there is Y/N, the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen; used as a means to broker peace between warring houses since she was no more than a child. Made to ease the suffering of those around her, at great personal expense.
The tree remembers, the axe forgets.
Each of them shaped by unsteady hands, hoping only for the best.
The tree remembers, the axe regrets.
Over the moon turn since Aemond hath inserted himself upon their union, not one of them has known peace. All angry or pining for another, because of a misunderstanding. Because of a book, because of a sword fight, because of a single glance.
Even seated round the council table, Aemond stares at their entwined hands. Love is a curious thing, in all its different forms. Y/N is never going to love him the way she does Aegon.
“What will my children call you?”
“Aemond, or uncle. Same as they always have.”
“What will your children call me?” The wound is still fresh, raw and aching as Aegon presses against it.
“It will be nearly impossible to tell…whether they are yours or mine, until they are grown.” Aemond admits, “I suppose they might call us both father.”
Y/N buries her head in her hands, sick with the guilt of what she’s done.
Dying in the name of love is noble sacrifice, killing one’s self to love another is a senseless endeavor.
“Sometimes these things happen.”
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“Are you not speaking to me?” Aemond asks, when he manages to get Y/N alone.
“What difference does it make? My words mean little to you.”
Aemond sighs, “I apologize for my lapse in judgment. I should not have said those things to Aegon.”
“Knowing what he means to me, how could you be so cruel?” The princess snaps.
Aemond purses his lips, “my brother made fun of me for the whole of my life. I saw an opportunity to return the favor. I am sorry for it.”
“Is that what this is to you?” Y/N whispers, “is that what I am to you? Revenge against your brother, at long last?”
“No,” Aemond growls, “you are…you know what you are to me.”
“Speak it.” Y/N insists, “tell me what I am to you.”
Aemond closes the space between them, taking her face between his hands. “You are my friend.”
“And that is enough for you?”
“If that is all I’m allowed.” Those who are starved will eat anything.
“Even if we were to marry, it would not be fair to you. I love Aegon, I will always love him. We grew up together, he and I. Day and night for ten years, we have been together. I enjoy your company and I should like to keep it, but I am in want of a friend. I have a husband.”
To be so tragically entangled.
“It matters not if he is studied in the histories, or if he holds interest in matters of the court. So long as I am studied, so long as I hold interest in the court. The duties are mine, the burdens are mine.”
“I only wish to help you,” Aemond breathes.
“You can’t,” Y/N shakes her head. “You cannot help me. You cannot come into my life and uproot it. I’ve children, Aemond. Aegon’s children, who need my love and affection more than anyone.
Children who grow up in the absence of love spend the rest of their lives wanting for it; no matter how much they are given. Like pouring into a bottomless cup, endless and painful because it never fills. It is cracked from the time they are small and can never be fixed. I’ve seen the difference between children born of love and those born of duty. My children will know which they are.”
“Who fills your cup once he’s drained it?”
“The gods provide.” Y/N swipes at traitorous tears, threatening to fall. “They always do.”
“Whores then,” Aemond understands. Why the pleasure house, why the wine, why the constant thirst for knowledge. “I could fuck you as well as any.”
Y/N turns away from him. “It would mean something more to you and…”
“It would not mean a thing to me.”
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Aemond makes his way to the silk streets, tearing back curtains, until he spots the silver sheen of his brother’s hair. Pressed back into a pillow as one of the brunettes works herself over his cock. It is not lost on him, how much the pretty little thing resembles Aegon’s wife. “I need a word with you.”
Aegon huffs a laugh, feeling the woman above him begin to pull away. “Ah, ah,” he chides, “you stay right there. Doing the gods’ work, you are.”
The woman sighs, happily, “thank you, your grace.”
He gives her hips an affection squeeze, before turning his attention back to Aemond. “What is it you need?”
“I was hoping to apologize, for the way I have conducted myself.”
“All is forgiven, brother.” Aegon waves a dismissive hand. “My wife is an endearing mystery, it is not your fault for taking interest.”
Aemond cocks his head to the side, “to what do I owe your sudden change of heart?”
“Y/N and I talked,” Aegon grins. “Whichever parts of her you are stimulating, do it well for me. Tell her I love her, while you’re at it.”
Part 3
Series Taglist : @oh-you-mean-me @callsignwidow @iliterallyhavenoideawhattosay @cluz1babe @visenyareads @kiwibaekie
#house of the dragon#hotd smut#aegon targaryen x you#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen#hotd aegon#aegon targaryen smut#aegon smut#aegon imagine#aegon targaryen fanfic#aemond imagine#aemond targaryen smut
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Katniss never really knew just how much of a menace she was to Snow.
In a new fucked up way, Snow probably believed he once again "owned" Lucy Gray, because he was the only person left that truly remembered her.
But then Katniss sang Lucy Gray's song in her meadow, turned it into a hymn of the second rebellion, and unknowingly freed her from Snow's grasp.
Lucy Gray plays a part in Snow's downfall, The Hanging Tree becomes immortalized in history.
She no longer dies with him.
#the hunger games#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#katniss everdeen#lucy gray baird#coriolanus snow#thg#tbosas#4k
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The moon and his sun (Part VII - Final Part)
Aemond Targaryen x Female Reader
Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.
Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.
Word count: 13.2 K
Warnings: Angst as usual, Aegon testing my patience, smut, and fluff
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 ... Epilogue
~~
She and Aemond had barely spoken since their fight, the strain between them growing with each passing day.
He was always quick to leave their chambers in the early morning, leaving her to break her fast by herself.
She didn’t mind, she found she had trouble even meeting his eye without feeling as though her insides were crumbling into dust, reminding her of how easy it would be to lose him.
It felt like dying a slow, agonizing death.
The door to their chambers opened and she instinctively perked up at the thought of seeing her husband, despite the warring emotions within her, but she immediately froze, fear rising as Aegon strolled inside as if they were his own chambers.
He smiled widely at the sight of her and was quick to take a seat beside her, entirely too close for her liking.
“What are you doing?”
“Joining my sweet sister for breakfast.” Aegon smiled, the gesture anything but innocent as he helped himself to the spread of food in front of him. “Where is my brother?”
“He’ll be back soon.” She answered immediately, as if she could use Aemond’s presence to deter him from staying. But with the way he looked at her intently, it was obvious he didn’t believe her.
He knew the rift between them kept Aemond out of his chambers for hours on end.
With a lump in her throat that grew larger and heavier with each second that passed with Aegon beside her, she kept her eyes down, beginning to sparsely pick at her food.
“You know I never thought much of you.” Aegon began, his gaze never wavering from her tense form that refused to relax in his presence.
She flinched and jerked away as Aegon’s fingers brushed against her cheek, her breathing becoming heavy as she fought hard not to smack the most powerful man in the realm.
He smirked at her as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling victorious at the sight of her discomfort.
“It wasn’t until I saw you bouncing on my brother’s cock…saw this body bare, saw the kind of whore you are, that it felt as though I was truly seeing you for the first time.” He crooned, his fingers tracing down the length of her jaw and down her neck.
As his fingers trailed downwards, getting close to the dip of her breasts, she finally snapped, her hand shooting out, gripping onto his wrist tightly, desperate to stop him before he could touch her further, in places only her husband had ever touched her.
“Careful, sister. The punishment for putting your hands on your King could cost you your hand.” Aegon warned, delighting in the fury that crossed her features. “Save that fire for my bed.”
“I will slit my throat before you could ever take me to your bed.” She told him with a fire in her voice that only made his eyes light with intrigue and delight, knowing he was getting under her skin exactly the way he wanted.
The door to their chambers opened, Aemond stepping inside wearily, though when he saw Aegon, how close he was sitting to his wife, his wrist encased in her grip, her face drawn tightly with hatred, did cold dread settle over him, washing away any ounce of hesitation he felt to face her and their fight.
“What are you doing here?” He barked at his brother, his face hard with a deadly scowl.
“Just getting to know my future wife.”
Aemond grit his teeth. It took all of his willpower to not beat his brother into oblivion.
“Get out.” He ordered sternly, though Aegon only laughed and leaned back in his seat.
“No.”
Aegon’s sharp response had Aemond flinching in surprise, his surprise overtaking his anger for a moment at the presence of his weak brother’s backbone. It seemed that the crown on his head had finally made him unmovable in the face of his younger’s brother’s rage that used to make him cower.
“I am your King, you don’t command me, brother.”
Aemond, without caring for the consequences or the threat of Aegon’s guards that stood outside the door, stormed forward, grabbing his brother by the shirt and hauling him to his feet, desperate to wrench him away from his wife who watched on with fear.
“If you have any hope of winning this war, it is because of me and my dragon. You are a drunken idiot that has no idea what it truly takes to rule and if you wish to keep breathing and sitting on that throne you will keep your mouth shut and stay far away from my wife.” Aemond spat darkly, jerking his wastrel of a brother in his harsh grip.
“I am already a Kinslayer and I will take whatever judgment the Gods give me for sinning again.” Aemond threatened him, his hatred clear.
Aegon looked back at him with nothing but disdain, hating the fact that he needed Aemond, needed Vhagar, to fight his cause. His harsh glare moved to the woman who remained sitting, watching the brothers with wide, nervous eyes.
“I will see you soon, Sister.” Aegon drawled out the word as if it were an insult, sneering at her one last time before he shoved his brother off him and made his way out of their chambers, leaving the couple in a tense silence.
Aemond breathed heavily and turned toward his wife, his eye softening immediately at the sight of her.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No.” She spoke quietly.
Aemond watched her carefully, noting that she had yet to meet his eye. He sighed and sat next to her. The news from the council the previous night that he had yet to tell her weighed on him heavily.
She had been asleep by the time he returned to their chambers last night and he loathed to wake her, especially for news that would only upset her.
“We are to go to battle tomorrow.” He finally blurted out.
His words finally had her gaze rising to meet him, a startled fearfulness growing in her eyes.
“I am taking Vhagar to Rook’s Rest.”
She remained quiet as she took in his words, the growing fear inside of her quickly incapacitating her. A thousand thoughts ran through her head, most of them all the ways she could lose him.
The longer she stayed quiet, the more tense he became.
“I’ve talked to my mother.” He continued quickly, looking at her hopefully. “She has agreed to let go of the annulment. I’ve asked her to station more guards at the door. A group will be with you any day I’m not here. They will protect you while I’m gone and if I… if anything happens in battle… they will take you home.”
Her eyes watched him calculatingly, as if she were staring at a stranger and not the man she loved. Her mind was a mess of thoughts, none of which she could really make sense of.
Her silence rang out in the room loudly, agonizing Aemond. He looked at her intently, pleadingly.
“Say something, please.” He whispered weakly.
She let out a long sigh, her face impassive, not revealing any emotion. Even the sight of her husband’s sadness wasn’t enough to sway her.
“What do you want me to say?”
“Anything.” He practically begged, her monotonous voice causing an ache to grow within him.
She grit her teeth, looking away from him. “Do you really believe it?”
“What?”
“That your mother is no longer a pawn in that ridiculous plan. That a few more measly guards will protect me from your family. That in the event of your death, I’ll be free to go home and not thrown in the black cells or shackled to Aegon’s bed.”
Aemond flinched at each of her words, looking pained at the reminder of the danger she was in, the danger his own family was placing on her head.
“You are many things, Husband, but I have never known you to be naive.”
“I am not naive-”
“You are if you believe I am safe here, especially in your absence.” She interrupted him sharply. “If you were to die in battle, that would be the end of me. No one would take me home, no one would let me live out the rest of my days as a mourning widow, they would have their boots on my neck the minute it was clear you would not be around to protect me.”
Only a stunted breath escaped him, as words were lost to him.
He looked at her pleadingly, but the guilt that lingered in his gaze did not go unnoticed by her and it only served to fuel her anger, knowing that he knew exactly the situation they were in, exactly the hard rock they were pushed up against by his own family.
“They won’t hurt you.” He began and held back a wince as she scoffed and shook her head. “They won’t. I have to believe it.”
“You have to?” She repeated, almost mockingly.
“Yes, because I cannot take another fucking breath if I don’t.” He replied loudly, his desperation, his slipping control clear as he looked at her, his eye wide and brimming with frustration.
Her expression changed in an instant, the hard front she was portraying shattering the moment she saw how close her husband was to cracking. He had always tried to shield her from the worst parts of him, never wanting her to worry or fuss over him.
It wasn’t often he let her see him falter, but she could see now just how exhausted and broken he was over everything that had happened in the past month.
She suddenly thought of all the times he had held her, picked her back up when her grief knocked her down, and she struggled to think of the times she was there for him, when he allowed her to be strong for him when he couldn’t.
He didn’t let himself show his weakness, hardly even to her, and it was slowly crushing him.
“Do you truly have to go tomorrow?” She asked quietly, the fight gone from her voice.
“I do.”
There was a hesitation to him, as if he knew it wasn’t a good idea, but didn’t have another choice. He was burdened by the duty he was shackled to, beaten down by the sentiment that had been drilled in him since he was a child.
He felt this was all he could do, simply because his family told him so.
She hated they had such a hold on him, that they held such control over him.
“I will come back.” He told her, looking at her intently, as if he could will her to believe it.
She just nodded, her throat growing tight with emotion at the thought of how tomorrow could go so wrong, at the thought of losing the one person she cherished with her entire being. The thought of losing him was already unfathomable, but the thought of losing him now, never being able to heal the rift between them was enough to break her.
He stood, hesitating for a moment, knowing he had to meet with Ser Criston, but wary of leaving his wife, of furthering the divide between them.
He looked to her longingly, as if he wanted to reach out to her, to kiss her, to lavish his affection on her as he used to, but just couldn’t find the courage to.
He didn’t know if she even wanted him to, so he settled for a half-hearted nod and a mumble of goodbye before leaving her side once again, feeling as though the cracks in his heart were growing deeper and deeper with each passing day they were fractured.
She remained in his thoughts for the rest of the day, as she always did any moment he was not at her side.
He didn’t see her until that night at the feast Aegon was adamant on hosting. It was more of an excuse for Aegon to lavish in praises for his bravery for their planned battle on the morrow.
Aemond could only roll his eyes at his brother’s brazen showmanship.
They would run out of coin soon enough with all the celebrations he’d thrown in the short amount of time he sat on the throne.
It seemed parties were the only thing Aegon could think to decree during his reign, despite the war that raged. It was a wonder a battle even got planned with his ambivalence for planning anything that didn’t include wine.
He looked to his wife sat by his side, her expression portraying she’d rather be anywhere else. She boredly looked among the dancing couples and reveling Lords who were drinking copiously, their laughter unable to stir a smile of her own.
Aemond knew better than to ask if she wanted to dance. He knew she would refuse.
He thought back to that night, the beginning of their divide and wanted to scream and cry all at once for the state of things, for this dreaded feeling of being so far from her in a way he had never experienced before.
The thought of her not by his side was too terrifying to even imagine. The thought of her willingly separating from him broke his heart and he didn’t know how to react in any way but anger.
She had barely spoken to him since that night and it wasn’t as though he was any more forthcoming in swallowing his pride and apologizing for his anger that had struck her that fateful day.
Next to him, his mother sat, sending him a weak smile. Despite her assurance that she wouldn’t be forcing an annulment, he couldn’t deny that he had trouble believing her, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how agonizing it was to not believe it. So he did what he could to force himself to.
But he knew he would worry every time he was not at his wife’s side that Aegon would swoop in and use his power to take her from him.
His brother was certainly not above despicable behavior.
His wife was barely able to look at his family. A curt smile was all she was able to give as they arrived that evening. The only real emotion she had shown was towards Helaena, but even then it was only a weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
Aemond was sure it did not go unnoticed how tense the table of royals looked. He could only imagine the gossip that was spreading about them.
He felt as though he could breathe easier once his mother retired for the night, his view of her irrevocably changed since that meeting.
He tapped his fingers against the table erratically, stealing another look at his wife. A servant placed a new cup of wine before her and Aemond waved his hand, refusing another cup for himself, it was only making his already churning stomach worse.
“Are you enjoying the music?” He asked, internally wincing to himself for how awkward he sounded as he tried to engage his wife in conversation.
“Not particularly.” She answered monotonously.
Aemond’s lips parted, but no words were found. It felt like talking to a stranger than to the woman he had loved for years.
“Could you two cheer up?” Aegon chastised as he approached the table to fill up his cup. “You look like you’re attending a funeral.”
Aegon’s attention on her seemed to be the last straw of her already waning patience. With a sigh, she pushed her chair out and stood.
“I’m tired, I’m going to retire for the night.” She explained and left without another word.
Aemond watched her go with a frown. The lack of affection wasn’t something he was used to, not from her at least and it was enough to leave him with a sick feeling in his stomach.
“She’s become quite frigid.” Aegon noted, not bothering to look at his brother and catch the glare he would surely be sending his way. “Have you stopped fucking her? Is that why she’s become such a surly bitch?”
Aemond grit his teeth, his hands twitching with the urge to knock his brother’s teeth out. It seemed the drunken idiot had already forgotten about his earlier threat on his life.
“Well, if she’s not drinking it.” Aegon laughed, grabbing the goblet that sat before his wife’s empty seat, handing it over to some foot soldier from the Lannister army who eagerly swallowed it down in one gulp, the cheering crowd around him growing raucous.
Aemond could barely contain his annoyance, his desire to leave overwhelming. His fingers tapped at the table incessantly, itching to follow his wife, to be as far from Aegon’s arrogance as he could.
“Must you look so sullen, brother?” Aegon chastised him.
Meeting the glassy eyes of his drunken brother, Aemond was forced to use all the willpower he possessed to not throw a punch, removing the smug smile from his face.
“Stop crying over your wife. There are plenty of other women here-”
“Don’t finish that sentence.” Aemond snapped at him darkly.
Aegon scoffed, a multitude of insults on the tip of his tongue, but the sound of hacking coughs caught both of their attention. They looked to the Lannister soldier, his eyes wide, his face turning red as he gasped for air that wouldn’t come. He clutched at his neck, his body-shaking coughs bringing him to his knees.
The chattering of the crowd ceased, leaving terrified gasps and screams as men quickly surrounded the dying man, surveying for a threat.
Aemond stood from his seat, taking large steps forward, pushing others out of the way. He took in the scene before him with a growing dread. His gaze moved from the man twitching out a last painful breath, blood and bile spilling from his lips, to the empty cup on the ground.
The cup that was meant for his wife.
Something broke inside him at the realization.
He rushed out of the room, elbowing his way past the crowd. He sprinted through the halls, a shrill ringing in his ears, his mind conjuring the horrible sights that he would find.
What if he wasn’t fast enough this time?
He had already lost his child, he couldn’t lose her.
The thoughts raced through his mind torturously as he ran, his fear growing with each step. His pulse thundered in his ears, his throat tight as he pictured the gruesome scene waiting for him.
He came to an abrupt stop, almost losing his footing, his chest heaving as he narrowed his gaze on the lone guard at their chamber doors. The man startled slightly at the sudden appearance of the disheveled prince and he bowed, greeting him dutifully.
“Has anyone been inside?”
“No, my Prince. Not since your wife.”
He stepped forward purposefully, the adrenaline in his veins and the fear that lingered, causing his hands to tremble.
“Where’s the rest of you?”
“My Prince?” The guard questioned in confusion.
“Where are the other guards? There’s supposed to be more of you here keeping watch.” He seethed impatiently, the man before him blanching in intimidation.
“I-I’m sorry my Prince. It is only me. I have not heard of any others to be stationed with me.”
Aemond stared the man down angrily, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t quite make sense of. He pushed past the guard and rushed into his chambers, his shoulders sagging immediately, expelling a heavy exhale of relief as he spotted her.
His wife lay in their bed, fast asleep and unharmed.
He stepped towards her on weak legs, sitting on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to just look at her, to ease his wounded mind. He knew he wasn’t reaching, that what had happened just minutes ago, that man choking on his own blood, was no accident.
Someone had tried to take her from him, again.
He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead, reveling in the sweet scent of the floral oil she had put in her hair that night.
“I’ll make it right, I promise.” He whispered into the quiet room, needing to speak the promise aloud, even if she wasn’t awake to hear it. He needed to reassure himself that he could protect her, for he felt as though he had been failing.
With one last lingering look at her, he stood and stepped out of the room, giving a quick warning to the guard to be on alert as he stomped down the hall.
He made it to his mother’s chambers, barely acknowledging Ser Criston who stood vigil and stormed inside.
His mother startled at his abrupt entrance and her face twisted, gearing up to scold him, but she soon noticed the fear in his eye, the lingering fury that made her stiffen.
“What’s happened?” She asked tersely, placing a hand over her racing heart, her stomach churning for what she was about to hear.
“A man was murdered tonight.” He spoke monotonously.
“What? Who?” Alicent asked breathlessly.
“He drank from my wife’s cup. He drank the wine that was meant for her and barely a minute later he was dead.”
Alicent’s throat went tight, her blood running cold within her veins. She straightened her posture, attempting to remain composed.
“Rhaenyra and Daemon’s bloodlust knows no bounds.”
“Where were the guards?” Aemond asked abruptly, glossing over his mother’s comment.
“What guards?”
“In front of our chambers.” He clarified, his voice hard as stone. “I asked you to assign more, to ensure my wife would be protected. You said you would, but there was only one.”
Alicent’s heart raced wildly within her chest, the rapid rise and fall of her chest visible as she tried hard to settle her breathing.
“I will have a talk with them. They should have been there.” She answered, the wavering of her voice clear, forcing her to swallow hard in an attempt to get rid of the lump that had grown and threatened to stop her from breathing.
Aemond watched his mother thoughtfully, the sinking feeling he had already been plagued with growing tenfold the longer he watched her, slowly becoming aware of her charade.
His eyes moved to watch the flames dance in the fireplace, breathing out a long sigh as the thoughts in his head swirled like a hurricane. He wanted to refuse it, to not believe his mother would ever have anything to do with something so sinister, but her entire being portrayed guilt. He knew his family's ambitions made for crass and even sometimes despicable actions, he knew the way of war, he just never expected to fall victim to it at the hands of the ones who should have loved him dearly.
“I was excited to be a father.” He started quietly, the tension in his body the only sign of the storm silently raging within him. “I knew I would have done anything for my child. They could’ve asked me for the stars and I would have flown on Vhagar in the night and taken every one of them from the sky.”
The mention of the babe he had lost had Alicent’s chest tightening, her eyes beginning to sting with tears that threatened to give away the turmoil plaguing her.
“I don’t even have a babe to hold and I know I would have done whatever I could to make them happy.” His voice became stunted, anger tinging the heartbreaking words that kept his emotions on a short tether, the reminder of what he lost, what had been ripped so brutally from him and his beloved.
His lone eye raised from the fire and landed on his mother who seemed to squirm under his intense gaze.
“You… you weren’t even trying to keep me from my happiness, you’re trying to rip it right out of my hands.”
Alicent’s breath caught in her throat, her stomach sinking with dread.
“I don’t know what-”
“You know exactly what I’m speaking of.” He interrupted her angrily, his hands clenched into fists as it took all of his restraint to not lunge at her, having to constantly remind himself that the woman in front of him was his mother.
“Think about what you are accusing me of, it’s absolutely ridiculous.” Alicent screeched, her emotions fraying as she desperately tried to pull her son back to her.
“You never wanted me to marry her. You wanted to deny me her, you wanted to tear her from me even when you knew she was the only one that truly made me happy.”
Alicent rolled her eyes, her fear quickly shifting into indignation. That Island girl has sunk her claws so deep in her son, she scarcely recognized him anymore.
“The only one?” She questioned, almost sarcastically. “After everything I’ve done and you still don’t see that it was all for you, for our family.”
Aemond let out a bitter sounding laugh, a sound that would have sent chills down the spine of a lesser man.
“Tell me, Mother, when exactly were you thinking about my happiness? When you tried to force an annulment from the woman I love or when you tried to murder her?”
Alicent’s voice caught in her throat. Each word was like a slap to the face. The guilt churned in her stomach so violently she thought she was going to be sick.
“I know grandsire’s ambitions would have retribution, but I never thought you would bend to them at the expense of your children.”
Alicent sunk back in her chair, the fight swept from her as she realized Aemond was not going to budge an inch. She picked at the skin by her nails anxiously, her teeth biting her bottom lip incessantly as her heart raced.
“We needed to help Aegon’s cause.”
The whispered words were all the confession he needed to hear.
Aemond fumed silently, his jaw clenching so tightly it was a wonder he didn’t crack any of his teeth. His first thought was that he couldn’t believe his own mother would do this to him, to break him into disrepair by taking his wife from him, but as he remembered the forced annulment, he soon realized he didn’t really know his mother at all.
“We know what Rhaenyra would do to us once she sat on the throne. I had to protect you, I did what I could so our family would survive.”
Aemond scoffed bitterly. He too once thought his life would be forfeit once his half-sister rose to power, but the longer he thought of it over the years, the more he spoke of those fears with his wife, the more he realized how unfounded they had been.
“You really think my father-by-law would allow that to happen? Ixtal is King’s Landing’s greatest importer, you think Rhaenyra would risk the entirety of the realm, her position as ruler, just to do away with siblings she could not spare a second thought for?”
“You don’t know that!” Alicent yelled, becoming desperate as she felt as though her son was slipping through her fingers.
Aemond sighed and stood from his chair, heading towards the door, but Alicent’s sobs stopped him as she begged him not to go.
“Aemond, you have to understand.” She cried. “I had to do what I could to keep you safe. You will see that one day, you will see that I only did what I thought was right for our family.”
To hear her speak of the life of his wife, his greatest love, as nothing more than collateral made him feel sick, his disdain growing even further.
“I hope you will see one day that your ambition is what ruined this family.”
With those final words, he left, leaving his mother to sob in solitude. He numbly walked back to his chambers, the look in his mother’s eyes haunting his mind.
It wasn’t until he was behind the closed door of his chamber, standing in the dark room that he allowed himself to release a shuddering breath, his throat tightening as it all caught up to him.
His mother’s betrayal was like a dagger to the stomach, letting the wound bleed until there was nothing left of him.
His gaze fell on his sleeping wife and the dam broke. Tears fell from his eyes as he realized how close he had been to losing her and by the hands of his own family. It was enough to undo him completely.
He knelt at her bedside, unable to stop the tears that fell. His lip trembled, shaking breaths escaping him as he clutched to her hand.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He whispered weakly.
She stirred and blinked her weary eyes open, frowning immediately as she noticed the tears her husband was shedding.
“Aemond? What happened?” She asked tiredly, propping herself up on her elbow as she intertwined their fingers.
“I didn’t protect you.” He whispered, his voice tight with tearful emotion.
“What are you talking about?”
“The second this war started, I should’ve done something. I knew you weren’t safe here, I knew you weren’t safe with them and I didn’t do anything. I’m so sorry, issa prūmia, please forgive me.”
“Aemond…” She was stunned, watching as her husband, the stoic man she knew, broke into pieces before her.
She laid her hand over his that held her other tightly, caressing gentle touches over his hardened knuckles.
“Darling, there’s nothing to forgive.” She assured him, but the look on his face remained tortured.
He sniffled and wiped his tears forcefully, tearing his hand from hers and he got to his feet, making his way across their chambers to her wardrobe.
“I’m getting you out of here.” He spoke, his voice now full of determination.
“What?”
“It’s not safe for you here. You’re going back to Ixtal.”
Her heart jumped in her chest, it was everything she had wanted since this war started, but she couldn’t ignore the lingering dread that settled within her like lead, realizing what it would mean for them. The thought of separating from him was unbearable.
“I’m not leaving without you.” She spoke forcefully, standing from the bed, her eyes hardened as she stared back at her husband.
She knew it was a big ask to leave his family and his home for her, but circumstances were different now. She had already lost so much, she wasn’t going to lose him too, she certainly wasn’t going to let his family take advantage of her absence and shackle him to another woman.
Aemond swallowed thickly and stepped towards her, his hands cradling her face gently as he revered her with nothing but adoration, his decision made in a split second.
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but by your side.”
Her face softened, emotions swelling, tightening her throat.
“What happened?” She asked quietly. His change of heart was unexpected and the state of him she had woken to was more than concerning. It wasn’t often he let himself feel his emotions, except anger of course, and it was upsetting to say the least.
Aemond seemed to shudder at her question, his eyes holding a faraway look that seemed tortured.
“Not yet.” He said, his voice barely audible. He would tell her everything once they were safe, once they were far from King’s Landing and his scheming family. “Pack your things, we need to be quick and leave before the light.”
She nodded and rushed to her wardrobe, hauling out as many dresses as she could carry and tossed them on the bed. A sudden realization came to her, igniting her worries once more.
“Wait, Aemond.” She spoke up frantically. “Helaena and the children. We can’t leave without them, they’re not safe here.”
Aemond’s entire being softened. Helaena and her children were the only ones, outside of her, that he cared about above anyone else and her care for them, her willingness to accept them as her own warmed his heart, only confirming to him that he was making the right decision.
His mother’s betrayal stung, it festered in him like a disease that threatened to spread and ruin him, but he pushed it down. He would feel the heartbreak when they were safe in Ixtal.
It didn’t take long for them to pack their meager belongings. They didn’t need to take much, there wasn’t much of anything with sentimental value he would miss. He just needed his wife at his side.
They traveled through the hidden halls, quickly coming to the entrance of Helaena’s room. Aemond pushed the entrance open slowly, wincing at the noise, hoping he wasn’t about to scare his sweet sister.
He was soon shocked, flinching back as he met the awaiting eyes of his sister, her children cradled to her sides, bags at their feet.
“Is it time?”
“What- Helaena…”
“We are leaving, are we not?”
“Well… yes, but-”
“Let’s go. We shouldn’t waste any more time.” She smiled warmly, placing her hand on her brother’s cheek briefly before moving towards her friend, wrapping her up in a tight hug, her gratitude overflowing from her. “I knew you would be our saving grace.”
The whispered words of the Princess left her shocked. She had to shake herself of her surprise and hauled Jaehaerys into her arms. With Helaena carrying Jaehaera, their bags secured with Aemond leading them, they were on their way. His hand fluttered towards the sword at his hip every so often, senses sharp and at the ready for anything and anyone that dared to stop them.
It didn’t take long to get to the Dragon Pit.
“I’ll meet you outside with Vhagar.” Aemond assured her and with one last squeeze of her hand, he was gone.
Her heart was in her throat, her palms sweating with nerves as she helped strap the children’s bags to Dreamfyre’s saddle. Once Helaena was seated on her dragon, she helped Jaehaera up and strapped her in.
“It’s alright, my Darlings.” Helaena cooed to her children who were quiet and sullen with fright. “We’re going to a beautiful place where we’ll be safe.”
“Is father coming too?” Jaehaera asked quietly and Helaena shook her head, almost seemingly delighted to share the news of the absence of their father. But the child just nodded and whispered ‘good’.
She repressed a shudder. She didn’t want to think of the neglect Aegon had forced on his children. She swept Jaehaerys up into her arms once again, her heart aching as he nuzzled into her, burying his face in the crook of her neck.
“You like to swim, don’t you, Jae?”
He nodded against her and she smiled, brushing her fingers through his hair soothingly.
“I know where to find the most beautiful beaches. You’ll get to swim in the bluest water you’ve ever seen where the fish swim between your toes and jump out of the water to greet you.”
“Will you show me?”
She smiled and nodded. “I’ll take you there myself.”
With the assurance, he loosened his grip on her, more at ease. A distant roar caught their attention, the familiar sound of Vhagar. With one last look to Helaena, silently assuring her that she would keep her son safe, she slipped out of the Dragon Pit, hurrying her way up the hill where Vhagar rested.
Her hope spiked, her fear receding slightly as she spotted Aemond atop his dragon. Their escape was imminent. No one would stop them now, not when they had Vhagar to face.
She helped Jaehaerys climb up into the waiting arms of his uncle who strapped him in carefully. She climbed, her movements familiar use, not something she’d ever thought she would say in relation to dragon riding, but Aemond had been insistent over the years of his two favorite girls bonding.
She used to roll her eyes at him, but now she couldn’t have been more thankful.
As she settled herself, her heart sped, uncertainty suddenly overtaking her adrenaline, the gravity of their actions soon crashing into her overwhelmingly. She placed her hand over Aemond's, stopping him before he could grasp the reins.
“Aemond,” She spoke, her voice tight as her mind raced. “You have to be sure, entirely sure, that this is what you want.”
He sighed, as if disappointed by her hesitation, believing he would ever second guess the decision to run away with her, to keep her safe.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” He assured her, tilting her chin with his finger so she was looking at him head on. “I promised you, didn’t I? We’re going to Ixtal where we’ll grow old and raise our children.”
His words, which were once said in the comfort of their sheets, their love nothing more than a secret from the rest of the realm, soothed every ounce of insecurity that had crept through her veins.
She breathed out in relief and leaned forward, kissing him swiftly.
Dreamfyre’s roar broke them apart and they watched as Helaena took flight with her daughter.
“Are you ready, Jae?”
The child nodded eagerly to his uncle and leaned back into his aunt’s arms, holding tightly to her as the mighty dragon below them rumbled and stretched her wings, taking to the skies with ease.
The moonlight was their only guide in the dead of night. It wasn’t until they settled high in the sky, covered by the clouds, easy on their course, did she finally let herself relax. She leaned back into the strong chest behind her, her husband’s hand leaving the reins to wrap around her, securing herself to his front, his forehead rested against hers, a look of nothing but pure contentment on his face, a far cry from the scowl that had been securely etched onto his features for months.
She knew his decision to leave could not have been easy and she was terrified to hear what had happened, what the final straw was to get him to agree to leave the place he called home, to leave his mother behind.
She leaned into him, as if needing his comfort from the mere thought of what transpired to make him turn his back on the woman that raised him.
Aemond held her tightly, breathing in the scent of her, his eye falling closed in fulfillment at the feel of her skin under his fingertips. Even the brush of her hair against his face in the wind was the greatest thing he could have ever felt.
She was all he needed.
A weight was lifted from his chest, allowing him to breathe easier the farther they flew from King’s Landing. His family’s schemes, his mother’s betrayal, Aegon’s threats, they all seemed to melt away as the distance grew between them.
The sun was just beginning to rise as they spotted the shores of Ixtal.
Warmth bloomed within her at the sight of her home, knowing she was only minutes from reuniting with her family.
She felt jittery, anxious excitement taking over every inch of her as they landed on the shores. A slew of guards were already waiting for them on the shores, the dragons having been spotted in the distance and causing mayhem in fear of a potential attack.
Among the pointed spears and swords, she spotted her father’s face. She breathed shakily, eagerly undoing the straps around her waist, charging down from Vhagar’s back despite Aemond’s protests.
She didn’t care for safety, she didn’t care for decorum. She charged towards the group of guards who soon lowered their weapons at their leader’s cries for a cease. Her father pushed the guards out of his way, coming to the front of the blockade, the sight of her causing tears to brim in his eyes.
Barely a second later, she was in his arms, the force of her embrace almost knocking him off his feet.
“You’re here.” He breathed out, holding tightly to his beloved daughter with a force that could only be portrayed by that of a father with a heavy heart. “How are you here? I haven’t heard from you in weeks, we thought-”
His words stopped as he noticed Aemond’s presence over her shoulder. His brows furrowed at the sight of the young child in his arms, his confusion only furthered as Princess Helaena stepped forward, another child in her arms.
“You brought an entourage?”
Her face turned serious, worrying him immediately.
“Father, we… we’re seeking refuge from King’s Landing. It’s no longer safe for us there.”
He looked at his daughter incredulously, sensing there would be a long story to come. He nodded stiffly, having trouble tearing his eyes away from his daughter, his little girl he had been fraught with worry over the past moons.
A yell of her name sounded, catching their attention. Her face smoothed out, her worry disappearing as a bright smile grew.
“Mother!” She called out, racing past her father and the litany of guards still standing at attention to seek out her mother who had raced out of the palace at the sight of the dragons, her arms open and ready for her daughter.
Aemond watched, an ease settling over him as he saw her smile again, that bright, wondrous sight that could only assure him he had done the right thing.
The Lord of Ixtal stepped forward, sending a polite smile to Helaena and eyeing the children with a soft gaze.
“Come, you must be exhausted from your journey.” He motioned them forward, allowing Helaena to lead, hand in hand with her twins, the two men settling in a matching pace side by side. “I knew you were the right man for the job.”
Aemond looked at the man beside him questioningly.
“I knew you would keep my daughter safe. I never had any doubt.”
The young prince seemed to deflate under the praise. The guilt that had been festering within him unfurled, overtaking him so powerfully, he stopped walking.
“I didn’t- there was… it was too close-”
“Aemond,” His father-by-law placed his hand on his shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. “You’re here. You brought her home, safe and sound.”
“But I couldn't-”
“You are one man. You cannot fight the entire world of enemies alone, especially not when they are your own family.”
Aemond’s eye widened, looking perplexed by his words. The Lord just smiled sadly and shook his head.
“I had my suspicions from the start. I knew they didn’t want you to marry her, I knew their ambitions would become too great.”
Aemond just nodded stiffly, the words getting caught in his throat, not yet able to voice just what his family, his own mother, had done.
“You’re a good man, Aemond. I hope you’ll be happy here.”
“I will be.” He spoke, his voice laced with conviction, as if there were no doubts in his mind about his life now that he was standing on the sandy beaches of Ixtal, his future no longer out of his own control.
They stepped into the palace, his eyes finding her immediately. Her mother left her daughter’s side, coming towards him, a tearful smile gracing her features.
Before he could say a word, she wrapped him in a tight hug.
“Thank you.” She whispered to him, the words and the affectionate gesture plucking at his weakest points. The affection of a mother, a caring and kind soul, reminding him of what he had just lost, what he had purposefully stepped away from.
But it had never been like this. Alicent had never held him this tight, he had never felt love from his mother in a single touch, not like he was now from a woman he had met only a handful of times before.
“You three look like you have hiked through the seven hells and back. Why don’t you rest for a while longer, we can talk later.” Her mother suggested.
Helaena was guided to her new chambers for her and the children, her smile wide, no trace of derision from her escape. She seemed all too happy to be back to the place she had fallen in love with in that first visit years ago.
Aemond let his wife lead him to her old childhood chambers.
He stepped in, taking in a deep breath, letting the events of the night roll off his back. He looked at the dried flowers and childhood drawings that lined the walls, some hers, some her siblings that had been gifted to her years ago that she couldn’t bear to part with.
Her sentimental heart never failed to warm his own.
As he set their bags down, his gaze fell to the view of the horizon from the balcony, picturing the chaos that would be ensuing across the sea in King’s Landing as their absence was discovered.
He thought of his mother and the state she would be in once she realized both he and Helaena were gone, her grandchildren safe from their clutches.
He let out a shaking breath and barely a second later, arms were winding around his waist. He hummed a grateful sounding noise, placing a hand over her clasped ones at his front.
“What are you thinking about?”
“They’ll send search parties.” He mused, his mind beginning to conjure the many ways his brother and grandsire could ruin the peace they tried to find for themselves.
“My father will handle it.” She assured him. “Besides, no one would dare try to force Vhagar away from here.”
He smiled, his eyes falling to his mighty dragon that was basking in the sun, her wings fluttering in the waves that crashed onto the shore, her rumbles of contentment echoing up to their room. He looked over his shoulder at his wife, the warm feeling in chest growing at the sight of her, the ease she now carried around her.
“Thank you.”
Her eyes softened, a small smile growing. “I think I should be saying that to you.”
He had a million things he wanted to say but no idea how to say them. So he settled for kissing her softly, hoping it conveyed every ounce of love and adoration he held for her, the thanks he wanted to bestow upon her for saving his life, for saving his sister and her children.
He pulled away regretfully, letting his forehead rest against hers as he thought over how close he had come to losing her just hours ago, causing tears to brim in his eye.
“I’m sorry.” He choked out, emotion welling his throat yet again.
Her brows furrowed, not used to seeing him break as he was now, as he did just hours ago.
“I haven’t been a good husband.”
“Aemond-”
“I haven’t.” He spoke again, interrupting her attempt to soothe him. “I didn’t listen, I thought I could fight against everything alone. I pushed you away and I hurt you.”
She watched him carefully, noting the guilt that seemed to seep out of every inch of him.
“I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for it all, I swear.” He whispered frantically, as if he was desperate for her to believe him, as if she had any doubt.
“What happened?” She questioned again, looking at him worriedly, but he shook his head, pushing the thought of this mother, of that man choking on his own blood, from his mind.
“Not yet.” He whispered again, not yet ready to reveal to her the threat on her life, not wanting to break the peace they’d finally found after months of such heart-breaking tension.
She was in his arms, they were safe, his sister and her children were safe. That was all that mattered.
He kissed her again, this time firmer, more sure of himself. After tumultuous weeks of grieving and then spite between them, they hadn’t been close like this in ages. It had been too long since he had made love to his sweet wife.
She melted into him, the feel of his hands on her, his lips against hers so desperately, was enough to heal the wounds in her heart the war had caused.
“You are so beautiful.” He whispered as he planted kisses down the slope of her neck. “You are so wonderful, so kind. You have the most perfect, golden heart.”
He lavished praise as his hands untied the laces of her gown, his lips finding their place over her racing heart, the heart that had given him so much love, enough to heal a boy doomed from the start.
They moved slowly, treasuring each gentle caress and loving kiss as they stripped themselves bare. The waking nightmares they had been faced with in King’s Landing melted into nothing but old memories in the wake of their embrace.
For so long, after the attack and losing their child, she had felt so disconnected to her own body. Now, as Aemond kissed every inch of her, as his hands roamed the familiar curves of her body, she felt she was finally herself again.
She had spent too long watching her husband succumb to who his family wanted him to be. It made her determined to remind him why she loved him, how much she cherished him.
Her hand slithered down the strong planes of his chest, his breath hitching as it traveled lower and lower until she gently grasped his stiff length in her hand that twitched with desire under her touch.
Breaths left him in desperate pants as she stroked him, her touch familiar yet so missed. He repressed a shiver as she quickened her pace, her eyes watching him intently, the sight of his pleasure a welcome reprieve to how tightly wound she’d seen him for months.
He moaned and quickly grabbed her hand, stopping her motions. He would not spill too early, before he even had the chance to bring her pleasure.
She squealed in surprise, her laugh ringing out in the room as he picked her up and eagerly carried her to the bed. Her delighted giggles continued as she fell back on the soft mattress below her, biting her lip and practically writhing at the heated look from the man above her.
She reached up, taking his eye patch off and tossing it to the side, needing to see all of him.
Aemond wasted no time, he couldn’t go another second without her. He spread her legs and kneeled before her, his mouth devouring her with a fervor of a man starved, moaning at the delectable taste of her.
She cried out, her hand falling to his head, tangling her fingers in his hair, pulling with each deliberately devastating stroke of his tongue.
Her body was powerless against him, a litany of praise falling past her lips without her knowledge, mindlessly calling out to him, divulging every ounce of her love for him, both cursing and acclaiming his tongue and his ability to render her completely mindless.
He growled against her, the sound of his name spoken so breathlessly, so desperately, quickly becoming his undoing. He quickened his pace, his need to push her over the edge growing as his own desires did.
She almost screamed, her back arching as he added his fingers, curling them in just the way he knew would drive her crazy.
Her hands twisted into the sheets below her, her legs beginning to quiver from their place over his shoulders as he worked her to the cusp of ecstasy.
“Aemond!” She cried out as his wicked tongue and fingers brought her to a blinding peak.
She panted heavily, her limbs still trembling from the force of her release, barely able to comprehend the heated kiss Aemond pressed to her lips, the taste of her on his tongue making her moan.
The soft sound turned into another high pitched cry as he entered her slowly, a shuddering breath falling past his own lips as they joined for the first time in months. He stilled, needing a moment before he lost his composure completely.
He gazed at her below him, his lone eye shining, the love he felt for her in that moment suddenly overwhelming. He ducked his head into the crook of her neck, squeezing his eye shut as her hand caressed through his hair, her soft lips brushing against his temple.
“It’s alright.” She whispered. “I’m here. I won’t ever be parted from your side.”
Her words, as if she knew exactly what had happened just hours ago, the attempt on her life on the orders of his own family, were the salve to the torment running through his head since he learned of the threat against her.
He raised his head, kissing her firmly, his tongue tangling with hers, desperate for her touch, her taste, every inch of her.
“No one will ever take you from me.” He spoke softly, though the air of determination surrounding his words did not go unnoticed, whether to reassure her or himself he wasn’t sure.
His hips began to move rhythmically, thrusting in and out of her gently, as if it were their first time again.
She sighed, her eyes fluttering closed. Her hands gripped onto his back, feeling his muscle ripple under his skin as he moved.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him tightly as he made love to her as if he were afraid to break her, afraid to cause her any more harm than what she had endured since the war started.
“Aemond,” She breathed out, leaning upwards, her nose brushing against his as she brushed her lips against his. “I’m ok. You can go faster, I can take it.”
His face twisted, memories of the night of the attack, of her screams and cries of agony, of how close she had been last night to succumbing to the war. The thoughts were torturous.
“I can’t-” He choked out, his jaw clenching, his brows furrowed as if he were in pain himself. “I can’t hurt you.”
“You won’t. I know you would never.” She assured him, her hands cradling his face as she looked at him intently, pure trust and love echoing through her eyes.
He exhaled loudly, allowing his pace to quicken slightly, the moan she let out like music to his ears, soothing every ounce of his worry.
“I trust you.” She whispered and his resolve shattered completely in an instant.
He whimpered and began to thrust into her harder, his movements becoming more assured, his hunger for her reaching its peak, his hips now crashing against hers purposefully, moans falling freely from his lips as she cried out at every hard thrust, his cock hitting that place inside her that made her writhe against him.
Her noises were beautiful, they sent shivers down his spine, made his head spin in that delightful way only she could give him. He never liked to feel as though he wasn’t in control, but with her he welcomed the feeling.
She was the only one he felt safe around to let himself feel it.
He gripped onto her thigh, hiking it higher on his hip, allowing him to reach deeper inside her, her name like a desperate prayer on his lips as he felt himself nearing his end. It had been too long and he was no match for her perfect body.
He brought his hand down, his thumb brushing against her clit, desperate to bring her with him. It didn’t take long until she trembled against him, her nails digging into his back, her head thrown back against the sheets as she cried out loudly.
The feeling of her tightening around him and the sight of her lost in pleasure beneath him undid him effortlessly. He gasped, his movements becoming more frantic in his end, frantic groans following with each of his movements. It hit him like a wave, crashing over him all at once. He cried out, a sound more desperate than she had ever heard from him, his body stiffening before falling lax as he came hard.
His eye fell shut as the haze of pleasure overtook him. He breathed harshly, letting the aftershocks of bliss roll through his shaking limbs. Her hands brushing his hair out of his face brought him back into the present.
His eye fluttered open, meeting the eyes of the woman below him, her easy, pleasure filled smile bringing one of his own.
He leaned down, kissing her softly. Silently vowing to himself that he would never let anything threaten her life again, not as long as he lived, that he would never bring her pain ever again.
He held her tightly, breathing out a long, drawn out breath, expelling every bit of the bitter anger and betrayal that clung to him.
As he lay beside her, his softening length still buried inside her, the blissful touch of her hand running through his hair, he listened to the waves outside the open balcony doors, the calls of seabirds reminding him of where he was, where he would spend the rest of his days with her by his side.
It brought him more peace than he ever could have imagined.
~~
With Aemond’s absence, and subsequently Vhagar’s absence from the frontlines, the Greens quickly succumbed to the Blacks.
She held tightly to Aemond’s hand as her father read outloud the letter sent from Rhaenyra who now sat the throne. He gave no reaction as he heard of Otto’s execution, of Aegon’s demise in the black cells. He barely twitched as he heard his mother was to be sequestered in the Red Keep, forced to live out the rest of her life in solitude.
The only emotion he showed was the breath he let out when he heard Daeron was to remain in Oldtown, with strict orders never to return to King’s Landing. He was thankful his younger brother never played a role in the war, that his life was spared from a gruesome fate.
Helaena looked forlorn, her eyes cast down to her hands that fidgeted in her lap. She left for a reason, she had escaped with her children, an act she would never regret, but it didn’t lessen the unease in her heart.
She always knew this was how it would end.
The knowledge that Aegon would never touch her again was a shining ray of light in the storm of dark clouds that was the news of the demise of her family.
They were dismissed quickly, her mother throwing her a wary look as Aemond practically sprinted from the room as if it were deprived of air he desperately needed.
She walked at a slow pace, knowing he’d need a few minutes to himself to take in the news. Making her way through the gardens, she knew exactly where he’d be, where he often found himself in moments of deep thoughts and contemplation.
She knew he didn’t regret leaving, but some days the decision was harder to swallow than others.
Within a few minutes, she found him sitting on the bench in front of the billowing willow tree, the place they had first spoken, the place he had complimented her drawings, the place where she had made him laugh as if they were old friends rather than new acquaintances.
He didn’t look up as she approached.
The only indication he gave to her presence was the long breath he let out as she took a seat next to him.
“I’m fine.” He spoke impatiently, as if to assure her so he could be left to his torturous solitude.
“You know I don’t believe that.” She admonished softly, making no move to leave.
His foot tapped erratically against the stone below him, his teeth biting his bottom lip, his shoulders hunched, the very picture of discontent. Frowning, she placed her hand on his arm, sliding down the length of his tense muscles until she found his hand, intertwining their fingers.
“I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re feeling.”
“I can’t quite make sense of it myself.” He admitted quietly.
“I know you’re not happy Rhaenyra is on the throne-”
“I don’t care about that.” He spoke abruptly, his tone becoming sharp. “Our lives would have been much easier if that damned chair didn’t exist.”
She knew since coming to Ixtal, after the month of peace they’d had without his family breathing down his neck, forcing his every move, he could breathe easier. But it was still his family, his own brother and grandsire who had perished in the war.
“Aemond,” She began softly. “Talk to me, please.”
“I know what my brother was. I won’t pretend to mourn him.”
“You do not have to.”
His eyes held a vacant look, as he retreated into the mess of thoughts in his head. He knew what his grandsire had done, the game he had played long before he had even been born. He knew the retribution Otto faced was well deserved.
It didn’t cause him much grief.
It was the thought of his mother that left his insides twisting in a way he hadn’t anticipated.
“It doesn’t seem like enough.” He whispered, his words almost lost to the wind.
“What doesn’t?”
“She tried to take you from me yet she lives.”
Her breath caught in her throat. She had never had a close bond with Aemond’s mother but after she had been told what had happened that fateful night they left, what caused her husband’s tears, her view of Alicent had been forever changed.
Aemond held tightly to her hand, as if saying the words aloud were too much to handle.
He let out a shaking breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, he could feel a headache coming on, one that was all too familiar when it came to the derision his family caused him.
“It does not seem a fitting punishment yet I’m… relieved. I don’t think I truly want her dead.”
Aemond didn’t know what to make of what he felt for his mother. He was angered she still drew breath yet relieved she hadn’t been killed brutally by Rhaenyra, yet he still couldn’t stomach the thought of her, not after what she’d done.
“Of course you don’t. No matter what she’s done, she’s still your mother.”
He thinks to himself that he doesn’t deserve her, this wonderful woman in front of him, the only one to truly see him.
When he lies with his wife, when he sees her beautiful smile, when he feels her touch on his skin, he thinks he’d be content if his mother never saw the light of day again, yet deep down, the guilt festers.
He was the reason their side lost. His departure was the sole reason Aegon and Otto are dead, the reason his mother is confined for the rest of her days.
He can’t find himself regretting his actions, knowing the outcomes, yet he can’t help but feel as though he had failed his family.
The sense of duty they had instilled in him was screaming, raging at him for what he had done. But he wasn’t that man they raised him to be.
He was the man who fell in love with his best friend. He was the man who finally felt love as a child from a girl who tried endlessly to get him to see the beauty in himself and the world around him.
The part of him that felt guilty for his mother was soon crushed out by the love he held for his wife. When he looked at her, he realized no one had ever truly cared for him but her. No one had ever had his best interest at heart except her.
He squeezed her hand in his, finally letting his gaze reach hers, the concern in her eyes melting a part of him that desperately needed to be melted.
“I don’t regret a single moment with you.” He tells her, the look in his eye now soft, no longer shrouded in agony and confusion.
She smiles softly, still worried for him, worried for what the news would cause him.
“Aemond-”
“I just want to think about our future.” He interrupted, knowing exactly what fears lay on her tongue, fearing much of the same for himself.
But he would cross that bridge when he came to it. He would feel the moments of guilt, of relief, of whatever other emotion his family would cause him, as they came.
He didn’t fear what he would feel because he knew the woman he loved would be there to soothe him in every one of those dark moments. His family, though they may try, couldn’t hurt him anymore.
“I want to raise our children here, where they won’t know any pressures of the court or successions, of war or conflict.”
“Are you sure you don’t-”
“Protecting you was and will always be my number one priority.” He assured her before she could even voice her question about his regret.
Her smile was much more genuine, his words soothing the anxiety she felt at his reaction. He felt himself smile at the sight before him, eased merely by her presence.
He leaned in, kissing her softly, letting his forehead rest against hers.
“You were always my purpose.”
His whispered words were assurances they both clung to in the face of uncertainty.
Tension would always exist as long as their enemy sat on the throne, but they were content, miles away, across the sea where their love flourished, where they would start their family.
No one would take that away from them.
~~
A year had passed peacefully. No further word from King’s Landing came. Helaena and her children thrived in the beauty that was Ixtal. The eccentric Princess made many friends with the ladies in court, finally feeling as though she could be herself without judgment, without fearing retribution or gossip. She no longer felt the pressure to be the perfect image of a Targaryen Princess.
Aemond had quickly found his place alongside her younger brother in leading the city watch. He melded into his new life with an ease she hadn’t expected.
Her own father accepted Aemond into their council, his voice soon becoming a valuable and respected asset to the island and its governance with most of the realm.
Their new life was everything they wanted.
Until the day their past caught up to them.
“My Lady?” She looked up to notice her guard approaching, a nervous expression painting his features. “A dragon has been spotted approaching our shores. Shall I request your husband?”
Her face was drawn tightly and she shook her head brusquely. She knew exactly who would be accosting them.
“No, I will handle it.”
She walked determinedly to the throne room, her guard following behind her worriedly.
“Where is my father?”
“In a council meeting.”
“And my husband is with him?”
“Yes, my Lady.”
“Good.” She breathed out. She didn’t need either of them catching wind of their guest’s arrival and causing a stir. “You are dismissed.” She spoke to her guard whose eyes widened at the command, his mouth opening to refuse, but she gave him a pointed look.
“I can handle this, Ser Jerrod.”
The guard sighed defeatedly and gave her a look of resignation.
“I am telling your husband of your orders when he comes to punish me.”
Aemond had developed quite the reputation of being protective of his wife, the guards were terrified to obey her orders when they knew they would face the ire of her dragon husband.
“I will take the blame, I promise you.” She assured him with a smirk.
As her guard left, leaving her alone in the throne room, she let out a long breath, her heart racing as she prepared herself for what she would soon face.
Only minutes later, the great doors opened and Queen Rhaenyra entered, her face hardened, bitter anger in her eyes.
Her steps faltered, her powerful pace slowing as she met the eyes of the person she had least expected.
Rhaenyra spoke her name slowly, her entire demeanor changed, abruptly thrown off from her course of murderous rage that darkened her thoughts, that prompted her abrupt arrival.
She breathed deeply, straightening her posture as she steeled her expression, putting on the mask of anger back into place.
“I’m sure you know why I am here.”
“I do.” She answered Rhaenyra cooly, her posture relaxed, an exact contrast from the woman before her who looked as though she was unraveling.
The dark circles under her eyes did not go unnoticed.
“I need to see Aemond.”
“That’s not going to happen, Rhaenyra, you know that.”
“He needs to pay for what he did.” The woman spoke through gritted teeth, angry tears filling her eyes.
She stared at the woman, the Queen, before her for a few long seconds, taking in her state of weariness with a heavy sigh, which only seemed to upset Rhaenyra further, her face turning red, her jaw clenching as she took a mighty step towards her.
“He killed my son!”
“And you killed mine!” She yelled back, matching her with the ferocity only a devastated mother could have.
The reminder of what Rhaenyra agreed to, what she allowed Daemon to do, made her face crumble, her eyes falling to the floor, refusing to meet the gaze of the woman in front of her, the woman she had made lose everything.
She never wished the loss of a child on any woman, yet here she was, standing face to face with the woman with whom she had directly caused the greatest sorrow.
“Gods, Rhaenyra, do you think yourself innocent, do you think you are absolved of punishment from your place in this war?”
“I know I am not.” She choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I did not start this. Your husband must pay for what he has done.”
“My husband does not hold this blame alone. This war would’ve happened no matter who laid the first blow, you know that.”
“They usurped my crown!”
“Yet you sit on the throne and the only reason you do is because Aemond chose to step down from the fight.”
Rhaenyra’s jaw tightened, the fury in her eyes taking over her grief.
“You did not come here to wager about succession.”
“No, I came to kill my brother.” Rhaenyra stated simply, her glare deepening when the woman in front of her scoffed.
“Aemond is under Ixtal’s protection. He has no governance under the crown.”
“Your father is an honorable man, he will do what is right-”
Her sarcastic laugh stopped Rhaenyra mid sentence, the older woman scowling at the young woman before her with blooming hatred.
“My father does not know all the details about what happened that night in King’s Landing, why I was attacked, how I lost my baby. If he knew it was you and Daemon that orchestrated it, that you were the reason he lost his grandchild, no force in this realm could save you.” She threatened, delighting in the way Rhaenyra shrunk under her pointed words.
“Your position is tentative, Rhaenyra. Most of the realm despises you, especially after this senseless war. The smallfolk in King’s Landing are starving, the Lords of great houses are fed up with your trade arrangements, raising taxes, abandoning treaties.” She started, her voice low with animosity that steadily grew with each passing second she stood before her.
Rhaenyra looked surprised by what she knew, the details that hounded her night after night, the reason she was berated practically daily in court by smallfolk and Lords alike.
“Most leaders in this realm hate you, you have little support anymore. If my father were to break tradition and take a stand against your position, how many houses do you think would remain loyal to you?”
Rhaenyra remained silent, her face twisted with disdain, mostly because she knew she had no argument.
“If you threaten my husband, if you plan some heinous attack on his life, if you darken Ixtal with your presence again, I will tell my father the role you played in my attack and nothing will stop him from marching to the gates of King’s Landing, with the support of the entire realm behind him.” She warned darkly. “Don’t forget, we’re the reason you still have food on your plates. You shouldn’t bite the hand that feeds you.”
“Who do you think you are to threaten me? I am your Queen.” Rhaenyra raged, losing what little control she had left.
“You think you can threaten me?” She countered. “That’s what you came here for, wasn’t it? To exert what little power you have left to boost your ego, to enact revenge for a bitter fight you caused.”
Rhaenyra flinched, her face twisted with derision at her words.
“Don’t pretend you have no role in this, Rhaenyra, you are smarter than that.” She added before the queen could speak another senseless word. “You pretended some measly words against your sons were more dire than a child who lost an eye. You added fire to an already growing inferno and you think they would, what? Live in peace?”
Rhaenyra gazed past her, refusing to look her in the eye.
“I am truly sorry about what happened to Lucerys.”
“Don’t say his name.” Rhaenyra seethed.
“A son for a son, that was what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
Rhaenyra flinched, swallowing harshly against the lump in her throat, the guilt she still felt for her role in such a violent act drowning her, especially now as she faced the woman she hurt directly.
“You got what you wanted, so consider us even.” She choked out through her own growing emotions, the memory of that night still haunting her. “Now leave.”
She watched, feeling victorious as Rhaenyra bowed her head, unable to look at her, as she turned on her heel and began to walk to the door in defeat.
“You may sit on that throne but it is my house that holds the power.” She called out before she could leave the room. “Remember that next time you get the urge to visit again.”
The door closed behind the Queen and she let out a long breath, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, having spoken to the reason for her attack for the first time, having expelled her anger towards the woman who had caused her greatest loss.
She let her shoulders relax, suddenly realizing how tense her entire body had become. She turned on her heel and stopped abruptly as she noticed Aemond in the doorway across the room.
His face was passive, she couldn’t read a single emotion on his face. Even after all their time together, she still had trouble reading him in moments when he was guarded.
“How long have you been here?”
“Long enough.” He answered vaguely. A moment passed before he let a small smile grow and she breathed out, laughing slightly as she approached him. “I quite like seeing that side of you.”
“You are not mad?”
“Mad?” He asked in disbelief and laughed. “No, I think you handled that with much more grace than I ever could.”
He held his hand out to her as she came before him, taking her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
“In fact, seeing you defend me as valiantly as you did was quite… stirring.”
She rolled her eyes and pushed at his chest.
“Aemond.” She admonished. “This is serious.”
“It is and you handled yourself as if you’ve been ruling for years.”
She sighed in annoyance, the praise not having the effect she expected. She felt as though he was avoiding the seriousness of what happened, or how wrong things could have turned out.
“Your sister arrived to kill you and all you can do is compliment me?”
Aemond’s smile faltered, his demeanor changing in an instant, the cool air around him gone.
“I have to live with what I did… to Lucerys.” He admitted quietly. “She must live with what she did. It’s like you said, we are even.”
She intertwined their fingers, her hand squeezing his in a silent show of comfort. She knew he still felt immense guilt about what had happened that night, for what she endured as a result of it.
He still had nights when he couldn’t face it.
“Do you think she will retaliate?” She asked quietly and Aemond shook his head, clearing his throat and the air of intensity surrounding him as his easy smile returned.
“Not unless she wants another verbal lashing from you.”
She scoffed and looked at her husband plainly. He pulled her towards him, a serious look in his eye even as his smirk remained.
“If she ever dares to return, she will have to face Vhagar.” He told her. “I would never let her hurt you or anyone on this Island.”
She breathed out in relief. She didn’t want it to ever come to that, but to hear it so plainly, the lengths Aemond would go to protect her, to protect her family and their home, was a strange comfort.
He kissed her forehead and looked at her with a gaze full of nothing but love, the words she had said to Rhaenyra in his defense running around his head. He would not soon forget it, the way she stood up for him.
Her name was called from across the hall, breaking the moment between them.
They turned to see her younger sister approaching, their smiles widening as they saw the bundle she carried in her arms.
“Sorry to interrupt, but she was getting fussy. I think she’s missing you two.”
Aemond met her halfway, his arms already outstretched to take his daughter from his good sister. He whispered his thanks, his gaze locked onto the babe in his arms, his precious girl.
At only 3 moons old, she was the greatest light in his life, aside from her mother of course. She had him wrapped around her little finger the second she took her first breath.
“Thank you for looking after her.” She told her sister and stood by Aemond’s side, latching onto his arm as they both gazed down at their child.
“Is everything ok? I heard there was a dragon spotted.” Her sister inquired.
She looked over at Aemond, but he seemed too engrossed in their daughter to have even heard the question.
“Everything’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about, she won’t be coming back.” She assured her sister who nodded and quickly made her exit, sensing the couple wanted to be alone with their little family.
Together, they walked out of the palace and through the gardens, coming to the familiar bench by the willow tree.
Aemond sat, sparsely taking his eyes off his daughter. Next to him, his wife laughed, continually amused at how effortlessly their daughter mesmerized him.
She leaned her head on his shoulder and reached out, gently tracing her finger over her daughter’s chubby cheeks that grinned at her touch, making a noise of contentment as she wriggled in her father’s arms.
Aemond placed a kiss to her forehead and she raised her head, meeting his gaze.
Their smiles grew at the same time, the same thought running through their minds. They had made it.
Whispered promises made in the beginning of their love had finally come true.
They had their family and nothing could take it from them.
~~
Thank you all for reading and coming with me and this wild ride! All of your comments have meant the absolute world to me and I'm just so happy I got to share this with you all xx
There will be an epilogue so this will not be the end of Aemond and his Sun xx
~~
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#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen fic#aemond targaryen smut#house of the dragon fic#house of the dragon
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"her hands were all over you, toji!"
"baby, i swear it was nothing." it was exhausting trying to reason with you when you're so angry, bit you're not only angry, you're hurt.
"she meant nothing to me." he tells you, attempting to soothe your worries.
it was a stupid fight over a stupid woman at the party the bother of you were at a few hours ago — it was a random woman toji had hooked up with before who still remembered him for some reason, for fuck's sake he couldn't even remember her name for the life of him.
you never fancied the idea that he used to sleep around before her met you, and you had your doubts that he still sleeps around.
"come on, sweetheart, look at me." he chides as you turn your back to him, your arms crossed and he can imagine the pout on your face.
"don't be like that," he tells you, taking a step closer and wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.
"how can i not be like that, toji?" you mumble, you really hated his history with women.
"because she meant nothing to me," he says "i don't even know who she is, i barely remember her name."
"what if i end up like her, then?" you ask "what if you end up barely remembering who i am too?"
"never." he answers immediately, "you mean more to me than that, baby."
you huff and he can tell your resolve is wavering as you turn around to face him and he places a kiss to your forehead, "you mean so much to me you have no idea." he tells you and it's true, you're his safe haven since everything.
"i love you," you mumble as he pecks your lips — you were everything to toji, everything. and so he truly means it when he says it back,
"i love you too."
#a bit ooc but oh well#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk headcanons#jjk drabbles#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#toji fushiguro#toji headcanons#toji drabbles#toji fluff#jjk toji#toji x reader
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˗ˏ` THEODORE NOTT HEADCANONS! ´ˎ˗
NATIONALITY. i truly believe that this man is half polish from his mother’s side and half scottish from his father’s side.
his maternal side of the family settled in northern scotland during the world war two to escape the german occupation. at first it was supposed to be temporary — to stay there until the war ends, but they settled down in the outskirts of inverness, though they never forgot about their heritage, speaking their native language, remembering the history and making sure that their descendants wouldn’t forget about their family’s past.
his mother would continue the tradition, speaking to her only son in her family’s mother tongue. due to the lack of conversation with his father, he barely spoke any english, when he first got to hogwarts, he understood lots of what was said to him, but communicating back was troubling for him at first.
back when his mother was still alive, she would take him to poland, to show him their family’s hometown. after she passed away due to suicide, combined with her progressing schizophrenia around his tenth birthday, he hasn’t returned to his mother’s country until post-war.
FRIENDS. he didn’t have too many friends at first nor wanted to make any in the first place. the first person he spoke to was daphne greengrass.
his poor english with a rough accent, mixed of polish and scottish, made it hard for him to be understood by his peers in the train, making theo seem as an arrogant and egocentric twelve-years old boy, who thought he was better than the others that approached him. theo felt alienated, but couldn’t speak his mind, because his peers would make fun of the way he speaks.
back in the first term of first year, his roommates weren’t speaking to him. thanks to daphne, who let him took his time to figure out what he wanted to say, he met his gang and switched dorms with one of them, which resulted in sharing a room with mattheo and lorenzo.
even though he had a small group of friends, his closest were daphne and mattheo. the alienation he felt earlier was lifted off his shoulders, knowing that there were still people that would be there for him. ever since his mom died, he felt like his world was shattered into pieces, the feeling only intensifying, when his father forbid him from seeing the side of the family he grew up with, the good side that let him be a boy.
his friendship with daphne was strong throughout years as she often invited him to the countryside, where her family’s mansion was, often disappearing into thin air at the crack of dawn till the late evening, wandering around the streets of a muggle towns nearby her house, causing troubles with the rest of their friends.
PERSONALITY.
it wasn’t a surprise for anyone that learnt about his background that despite coming off as an extrovert, theodore was really quiet and perceptive guy, who kept lots of things to himself. not a lot of people knew about his mom’s life and the way it ended as his father made sure that everyone thought she died of an unspecified illness.
seeing his mom’s schizophrenia progressing in his early years, leading to her suicide had taken a toll on him. he believed that it was his father’s fault for everything bad that happened to the person he loved the most as he tried isolating her from her family, and when that didn’t work out the way he wanted, abusing her mentally and physically. after her passing, the abuse continued, this time, theodore was at the end of the stick. his father’s behaviour making theo distrustful and hostile towards male figures in his life, especially authorities.
despite his quietness, lots of girls at school were falling in front of him to get at least an ounce of his attention for themselves. it might be the brooding state he’s often is in. he, as well as his friends, is often the subject of interest of people in his year and below. usually, he attends the parties in the common rooms to keep up with his reputation.
theo’s really indifferent towards things that don’t matter much to him, like said reputation, or for example his grades. though, he doesn’t care about his academics as much as he does about quidditch, he’s exceptionally intelligent and talented, picking up things in a speed of light. he’s not one to refuse helping others (=his friends) and he often tutors mattheo before exams to make sure they both pass the year.
he gets angry, whenever someone compares him to his father, what happens when someone hears his last name. during this time or immediately after, he can get outbursts of anger and needs a smoke (preferably a joint) to numb his mind. if he doesn’t have anything on him, which rarely happens, then if you’re in a line of fire, a visit to hospital wing is the only way out.
whenever he comes back to school from the christmas break, his panic attacks are more frequent, usually accompanied by the image of his dead mom. the panic attack that he would never forget was during his third year, when his boggart showed him his mom’s lifeless body, triggering something inside him.
MISCELLANEOUS.
theo’s super tall, making him stand out from the crowd. when he was measured by miss pomfrey in year five, she told him that he’s around six foot five. he used to be a short kid, but once he started growing, he couldn’t stop — stretch marks on his stomach has fainted over the years.
he doesn’t like mixed alcohol. as a teenager with polish genes, theodore doesn’t mix his alcohol with any juice or soda to make the bitterness go away faster. when he drinks, he does it neat, no matter the type. whether he drinks tequilla, vodka, whiskey or wine, he never adds anything. and when he does want to make the taste go away faster, he eats pickled cucumbers.
has bad anxiety. as i said earlier, theo’s bad anxiety and with each year passing, it only gets worse. his panic attacks are more frequent and it often goes in a pair with any contact from his father.
music taste. the music he listens to is dependent on his mood. whenever he’s alone in his dorm, he blasts polish songs and bands, especially dżem, because it was his mom’s favorite rock-blues band. he’s also a big fan of the smiths and simple minds.
blood status. he doesn’t care about any of it, mostly because that’s what his mom taught him — blood status doesn’t define a person, their actions do. even if she didn’t, he would probably still pretty much indifferent to the blood status of people around him, just to do the opposite of what his father wants.
substances. he’s go to substance is weed. he doesn’t smoke as much as people think, he likes to smoke a joint on a chilly summer morning or after a stressful day. he definitely drinks much more, but not to the point, when he can’t live without it. it’s not a secret that once in a while, he pops mdma at parties.
AS A BOYFRIEND. or more specific, your boyfriend.
possessive. as much as he doesn’t like admitting it, he doesn’t like sharing too much. he’s an only child, who grew up alone most of the time, so sharing never came easy to him. he tries to fight it though, knowing that being super possessive isn’t something healthy. he knows how to read people, so when there’s a guy hanging around you, who’s clearly interested in you, he makes sure to be somewhere around you to shift your focus from the annoying prick to him, while still being gentle with you. he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his side to leave a kiss on the top of your head, before glaring expectantly at the boy.
communicative. being able to communicate his feelings and thoughts with others weren’t a bother to theodore, he hardly ever spoke to anyone about his troubles, bottling everything up until it popped. but when it comes to you? this guy makes sure that you know he has nothing to hide from you. he’s upset? you’re the one he talks to. he’s angry? you’re the only one able to calm him down. he wants you to know that you’re the one he cares about the most.
protective. this guy loves you to bits and loves everything you do, so when you show him the outfit you plan on wearing, he doesn’t comment on it in any way that could come off as negative, not that he wants to but forces himself to shut up, no, theodore couldn’t even think of something else to say that comolimenting the way you look or telling you all the things he’d love to, and will do to you later. back, when the two of you started dating and you went out somewhere, he always repeated the same thing, wear whatever you want, baby, i can fight. and he definitely would fight for you if you ever asked (what probably will never happen, because no matter how hot he looks sometimes, you hate seeing him hurt). or fight anyone, who does as much as look at you funny, and knowing his friends? they wouldn’t pull him away from the fight, no, they would jump right in to help him.
love language. his love language is acts of service and physical touch. his hands always have to be somewhere on your body, whether it’s his arm slung around your shoulders or wrapped around your waist, his hand on your hip, thigh, his thigh touching yours. it’s not only that he likes to touch you, but he hates when you’re next to him, but not close enough to calm his mind that he might lose you. also, theodore is not the best with words, so he won’t write you a few pages long letter, but what he will do is remember small details of what you tell him, like your favorite brands of sweets, crisps, your favorite flavor of cakes or cookies to always have at least one of those in his bag. he’s the guy who would drive from inverness to the south of england if you ever needed him. you’re sick? one message and theo’s there to take care of you. you like a book, but have no one to talk to about it? he’s gonna read the book just to hear you ramble.
#theodore nott x reader#theo nott x reader#theodore nott#theo nott#theodore nott fic#theo nott rec#slytherin boys#theo nott fic#theodore nott rec#theodore nott headcanons#theo nott hc#theodore nott fwb#theo nott smut#theodore nott smut
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