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bosbas · 7 months ago

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Chapter 12: I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 3.5k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, insane amounts of pining, idiots in love!!, in their friends era... or are they?, the slow burn is slowww burningggg i'm so sorry

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

A/N: I am BACK sorry for my absence I promise I won't leave for that long again <3

July 12, 1816 – It seems that the summer heat is not the only thing causing a stir within the ton. Recently, the Montclair and Bridgerton families have been seen in each other’s company more frequently than usual. Could there be a more permanent union on the horizon?

Lord Philippe Montclair and Mr. Colin Bridgerton have been spotted in deep conversation on multiple occasions, discussing matters that appear far more serious than the usual lighthearted banter one would expect. Indeed, whispers suggest that their discussions have involved future business ventures and mutual interests, signaling a burgeoning camaraderie between the two gentlemen.

Regardless, the warmth between the two families is palpable, leading this author to wonder if we shall soon hear the sound of wedding bells. Stay vigilant, dear readers. Though no one shall stay more vigilant than this author.

As you walked home from the modiste with Eloise by your side, you noted the afternoon sun filtering through the leaves high atop the trees surrounding you. You had suggested a shortcut back to your respective homes, opting to go through the park rather than the busy streets, and you were mostly thankful for the silence of the greenery around you. Mostly.

“So, will you be joining us for dinner tonight?” asked Eloise expectantly, gently nudging your shoulder with hers.

You groaned and screwed your eyes shut, already dreading the conversation, and the evening, to come. “Yes, Mother has been quite insistent that I go. I think she’d kill me if I asked to stay home one more time.”

“I didn’t know we were that bad,” joked Eloise, only a hint of resentment in her voice.

“Not at all!” you rushed to defend yourself, cringing at the fact that one of your dearest friends was upset with you. “You know that it’s just… Well, I’m sure Colin told you everything. I really can’t bear to face him.”

In all honesty, Eloise’s annoyance was warranted. You had spent the past two weeks avoiding the Bridgertons at all costs, only seeing Eloise at balls or in your own home. The only reason you had gone to Bridgerton House today was because you and Eloise were leaving immediately afterward to go get new dresses, and you were certain you wouldn’t run into Colin.

Not only were you still terribly embarrassed by your assumptions of Colin's character, but you also found yourself strangely drawn to him. Now that nothing prevented you from actually liking him, and now that you knew that he was not a horrible person like you had previously thought, you were in a bit of a conundrum. Colin Bridgerton had charmed you, and you knew that if you let yourself, you could very well start to grow feelings for him.

And that wouldn’t do. No, it absolutely wouldn’t. For starters, the two of you had never managed to get along anyway, so you had no idea how you would even live in relative peace were you to have a future. Even so, your father would never approve, no matter what Lady Whisteldown was alluding to. And so Colin was out of the question as a husband or really anything other than a friend.

But while you had been meticulously maneuvering through your social outings to avoid her family, Eloise had slowly been losing patience. She had tolerated whatever had been going on between you and Colin at the beginning of the season, but it was high time that you stopped acting so childish. Especially after Anthony and Kate’s ball, where the two of you had already apologized for your misunderstanding and subsequent feud.

“I can’t believe you haven’t seen him since that night,” scolded Eloise, crossing her arms in a huff. Then, in a humorous tone, she added, “He doesn’t actually look that bad with a broken nose if that’s what you’re worried about. The swelling has gone down considerably.”

Not able to help yourself, you let out a small snort and smiled at your friend. “No, it’s not that. I’m just so embarrassed. Oh heavens, even just thinking about it I can feel my face getting hot. He did tell you about it, right?”

“Yes,” responded Eloise, giving you a very pointed look. “He was very excited about the fact that you didn’t actually hate him. He wouldn’t stop talking about it for two days. Though now I wonder if that really is the case, given your behavior.”

“Oh, no,” you groaned, putting your head in your hands in desperation.

“He was quite embarrassed as well, Y/N,” Eloise reminded you gently. “I don’t see why you can barely stand to be in the same room as him even now.”

“I just-” you started, finding it difficult to explain why you had been so against seeing him, or any of his family, really, after the most recent ordeal with Lord Barlow.

But Eloise wasn’t letting you get away with it any longer. She slowed down her previously brisk walk, looking straight into your eyes as she gestured for you to continue.

“I just wasted so much time and energy fighting with him and I’m so ashamed that your family saw that side of me. I didn’t even know I could be that unpleasant! And to make matters worse, it was all for nothing since I was completely in the wrong.”

“Not completely,” Eloise mused. Colin had been quite kind to you in his retelling of the events, and Eloise was inclined to believe her brother’s account.

With a sigh, your friend turned to face you. “I wish you had told me what you thought of him because I would have either helped you realize your mistake or helped you kill him.”

You laughed again, shaking your head as you realized how lucky you were to have Eloise in your life. Linking arms with her, you patted her hand as you explained, “I was just terrified of the recourse. My parents were so insistent that I ‘act ladylike’ that I was scared of revealing I had been unchaperoned in the presence of two men. And besides, I didn’t want to ruin your perception of your brother.”

“Well, regardless, it will all be resolved at dinner tonight, seeing how you’ll be in attendance.”

A soft sigh escaped your lips.

“I certainly hope so.”

---

As you walked into the dining room, a soft smile on your lips as you spoke with Kate, Colin’s breath was stolen from his body. He already hadn’t been expecting to see you, already growing accustomed to having you avoid him, but seeing you look as beautiful as you did now was completely doing him in.

“Y/N,” he whispered from across the room, unable to tear his eyes away from you.

Feeling an elbow digging into his ribs, Colin turned to see Benedict, smirking as he watched his younger brother. “Might I suggest pulling yourself together if you don’t want to scare her away again?”

“Be quiet,” hissed Colin, but he ran a hand through his hair to regain his composure anyway.

“Benedict!” you greeted, delighted at finally seeing him for so long. “And Colin!” you added, hoping your voice didn’t reveal the nervousness you were feeling.

“Lovely to see you again,” said Benedict brightly, squeezing your shoulder.

Then, feigning some obligation or another, the second Bridgerton slipped out of the dining room to join the rest of your families, leaving you alone with Colin. Benedict had been terribly obvious, but the resulting awkwardness that enveloped you and Colin kept you from noticing his brash exit.

“I’m happy you’re here,” Colin spoke, almost timidly. Then, speaking very quickly, he added, “I was fairly confused when I didn’t hear from you for two weeks, but I didn’t want to call on you because we agreed to just be friends and I didn’t want to give you the wrong impression. Though now that I think about it, that might have been the decent thing to do."

Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, Colin looked down at the floor as he waited for your response.

“Not at all!” you rushed out, wanting to reassure him. “It was my fault entirely. I apologize for not speaking with you sooner, I was just a tad embarrassed, as you can probably imagine.”

Colin’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled, feeling at ease now that he was certain you didn’t spontaneously hate him again.

“You were embarrassed? I rather think I should be the one feeling that way,” he laughed. “I still find it hard to believe you could have thought I was that... horrid for so long.”

You put your hands over your face and shook your head. “I can’t believe it either,” you groaned.

Sensing you were getting worked up again, Colin instinctively put a comforting arm around your shoulders, pressing you to him. “No, it’s quite alright. I promise I was just…”

Then, suddenly realizing just how close he was holding you to him, Colin stepped away quickly. Instead of apologizing and drawing even more attention to his overstepping, he settled for clearing his throat awkwardly, clasping his hands behind his back to keep from reaching out to you again.

“It was all in jest, I swear,” promised Colin, realizing he had never finished his earlier sentence.

Before you could respond, Violet walked into the dining room, followed by your family.

“Hello, Y/N!” she greeted you, reaching over to put a hand on your forearm in greeting. “I’m thrilled you’re here! We missed you last week.”

You smiled gratefully back at her, internally chastising yourself for ever wanting to avoid this wonderful family. All because you were scared of facing Colin, who, as it turned out, had a singular talent for making you feel at ease.

“You’re seated here, next to Colin,” indicated Violet, gesturing toward a seat near the end of the dining table.

“Oh,” you breathed out, not expecting to have to be in such proximity to him for the whole night. Realizing you had been impossibly rude, you added, “Thank you very much, I’m sure we’ll have lots to catch up on.”

Four courses later, you were having the time of your life. You were sitting between Francesca and Colin, and both had been keeping you endlessly entertained as you ate. Speaking to Colin came so naturally that you wondered how the two of you had ever managed to fight so much without ever having a proper conversation, save for one or two. It seemed impossible now, the forgone tension between you. Especially when you had to actively ensure that you were talking to Francesca, too, rather than just Colin. But he was just so easy to talk to, and you simply had so much in common that it was proving quite difficult to focus on anything else.

“Are you excited for your season next year?” you asked Francesca, leaning away from Colin so you could concentrate on speaking to her.

“I suppose I’m looking forward to having something of my own,” she responded after chewing thoughtfully. “An experience of my own, that is. It’ll be quite the luxury, especially being from a family as large as mine. Did you ever feel that way?”

You hummed, thinking back on your season. “I felt that way at the beginning, to be sure. But having seen my older sister’s fairytale romance and having a season that was nowhere near that had me wishing for a season similar to hers in the end.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean that-” Francesca started, having forgotten your ordeal with Lord Barlow.

You waved her apology away, smiling warmly at her. “Not to worry, I’m quite well-adjusted now. Perhaps next season will be better, though I’m not sure how unique it will be since I’m heading back to Spain, just as Isabelle did.”

“Are you really leaving?” asked Francesca, partially in shock that you were leaving after only one season. “But-”

“Y/N does,” came a loud voice next to you.

Confused, you turned around to face Colin, who seemed to have gone quite red in the face.

“I hadn’t realized I was speaking that loud,” he said bashfully, nervous now that most everyone at the table was looking at him expectantly. “Anthony was only talking about how I use the night sky to navigate my crew when I travel, and I was pointing out that you are quite knowledgeable in that area as well,” he explained, looking at you with wide, uncertain eyes.

Anthony, who had been at the other side of the table, was struggling to contain his laughter.

“I had no idea Y/N knew so much about the stars,” commented Violet, looking directly at Colin as she did so, an unreadable expression on her face.

Highly uncomfortable at being the center of attention for this particular reason, the third Bridgerton internally cringed and gulped his wine, hoping to wash down some of the discomfort as he did so.

“We’ve only talked about it a few times, but she does seem to be quite the expert,” he said finally.

Feeling charitable, Louis chimed in to change the subject, “I know I’ve been victim to her hour-long lectures about which constellations are visible at any given point in time. Were you thinking of traveling soon, Anthony?”

Letting out a sigh of relief now that the attention was no longer fixed on his thinly veiled infatuation with you, Colin cast a fleeting smile in your direction, eager to gauge your reaction.

But you only smiled amusedly at him, snickering as he gripped his fork and knife tightly in his hands with leftover tension.

“Tell Louis I say thank you,” he muttered.

You shook your head. “It’ll get to his head,” you argued.

And Colin’s smile in return was so charming, so roguish, and so handsome that you were tempted to forget your agreement to be friends right then and there.

Ah, that was why you had been avoiding him, you reminded yourself. Colin was far too charismatic for his own good. For your own good, rather.

But you had to remind yourself of what your parents –and society– expected you to find. A man with a title and a fortune. And that was decidedly not a Mr. Colin Bridgerton.

Clearing your throat, you turned away from Colin to face Francesca again.

Friends, you reminded yourself. You were friends with Colin.

---

The Montclair brothers sat in their father’s study, brandy in hand as they so often did after evening dinners ran long and they needed to wind down. Supper with the Bridgertons had been lovely, but the boys had important matters to discuss with their father. Well, important matters to you. But important nonetheless.

“Que pensez-vous de Colin?” asked Jacques, trying to seem nonchalant (What do you think of Colin?).

“Bah, il est assez gentil, mais il est vraiment amoureux,” came your father’s gruff response before he took a long sip of brandy, rubbing his temples (Well, he’s nice enough, but he’s definitely in love).

“Quoi? Amoureux de qui?” pressed Philippe, feigning innocence as if this wasn’t exactly what the brothers wanted Lord Montclair to notice (What? In love with who?).

“De Y/N, bien sûr,” replied your father, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world (With Y/N, of course).

That was the tipping point for Louis, who apparently was the only person in the world who wasn't instantly attuned to Colin’s feelings. Forgetting why he and his brothers were so eager to meet with their father and talk about Colin, the youngest Montclair brother set his glass of brandy down in exasperation.

“Putain, comment tout le monde a pu voir ça?” (Damnit, how did everyone else see that?)

---

Laughing quietly at a comment Colin had whispered in your ear, you found yourself truly enjoying a ball for the first time in a very long time. Now that you were past all the hatred and subsequent awkwardness, it was lovely to spend an evening with Colin by your side.

This might have been the first ball you had been to that you hadn’t spent a considerable amount of time sulking at. It was, to say the very least, quite freeing.

Not to mention the absolute entertainment that was watching the third Bridgerton rush from ambitious mama to eligible lady and back to another mama as he attempted to please everyone. You had only been here an hour and he’d already danced three times and spoken with at least four women you knew for a fact he had no interest in.

“Ah, Mr. Bridgerton, it’s lovely to see you again,” came a voice behind you.

Both of you turned around to face Miss Anne McCall, who was looking at Colin expectantly. Amused, you raised your eyebrows at him, too. You could bet your family’s entire fortune that Colin had promised her a dance at some point tonight.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, briefly touching your arm. “Excuse me just a moment, Y/N.”

You nodded, unable to respond because you were momentarily overtaken by the feel of his hand on you. An unfamiliar warmth radiated to you, and you almost stumbled as you tried to regain your bearings.

Looking out across the ballroom, you spotted Colin smiling and laughing as he danced with Miss McCall, who was looking absolutely enamored as he spun her around. You smiled to yourself, glad that your rivalry with him had been resolved and you could simply appreciate the fact that he was a lovely person. Maybe some night you would be the one he was spinning around the ballroom.

Shaking your head to will the mental image away, you made your way to the other side of the ballroom, needing to clear your head.

However, a hand gripped yours and you turned around, surprised. Colin’s relieved eyes met yours and he pulled you closer to him, though still allowing an appropriate distance between you two in case anyone was observing.

“A turn about the ballroom?” he suggested, eyes pleading.

Once again taken aback by how aware you were of his skin on yours, you could only nod, allowing him to place your hand in the crook of his elbow.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “I think I’ve spoken to too many people tonight. If I have to laugh politely at another conversation I’m certain I will dissolve right where I'm standing.”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, squeezing his arm. “You don’t have to do it, you know?”

“Do what?”

“That,” you said, gesturing toward the dancefloor full of couples waltzing. “You’re allowed to say no.”

Colin frowned, thoughtful. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”

“Why not?” you pressed.

“I- I don’t know, I suppose. It feels like it’s what I should be doing. Doesn’t everyone?”

“Hmm, not particularly. I’ve said no to plenty of men wanting to dance with me, you included,” you nudged him playfully.

“That doesn’t really count, though. Because you’re… you. It doesn’t matter if you say no to every single man asking you to dance.”

“Doesn’t it? You’re also you. So, it doesn’t matter either.”

“No, I mean that…I don’t know what I mean. I suppose that people would still like you even if you said no a lot.”

Your eyebrows shot up as you took in what Colin was saying.

“People would still like you if you said no every once in a while, you know? I know I would.”

Colin shook his head. “It’s still different!” Then, softening his voice, he added, “Because you have… Or rather, because I just don’t have any remarkable qualities beyond people finding me charming or affable.”

“Colin,” you scolded, rolling your eyes. Then, seeing that he was quite serious, your expression sobered. “Of course you have value beyond how much people like you. My word, Colin. You are so clever and so well-traveled. You can orient yourself on a map at first glance, and I doubt you would ever get lost at sea. You know most constellations visible from London, and I don’t even know how many beyond that.”

“Alright, I see your point,” he laughed, secretly wishing you would continue speaking forever. Colin was practically preening at your praise, and he so desperately wished you could want him the way he wanted you. “What do you suggest I do at balls, then, if I'm not dancing with every single member of the ton?”

“Well, you could start by only dancing with people you want to dance with.”

“In that case, would you like to dance with me?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, I’m serious.”

“So am I,” insisted Colin. Then, after a pause, he added, “Friends can dance together," a twinge of regret in his chest as he said the words.

But that seemed to placate you, and you placed your hand in his. “I suppose they do.”

With a shaky breath, you prepared for the next few minutes you would spend in Colin’s arms, not quite sure you or your heart were ready to look into his mesmerizing eyes and not fall completely head over heels for him.

But one smile from him, and you were completely at ease. One dance couldn’t hurt, right?

—

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anantaru · 2 years ago

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DIFFERENT KIND OF FINE

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — being kaveh‘s younger sibling can be quite jarring yet you‘re eternally grateful for his hot room mate keeping you company while you wait for him.

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 4.3k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, reader is in their 20s + kaveh‘s step sibling, kaveh is both older than you and alhaitham, perv alhaitham ??, he's calling you a 'good girl', he's a tease

by now, how many times in your life did you have to run after your careless, irresponsible brother?

had to make sure he isn't doing anything reckless again, despite him being an akademiya graduate. Or that one time when he had visited your home only to forget half of his belongings, requiring you to carry them all over to his place.

well, not to his place to be exact.

after yet another foolish decision in kaveh's life, your step brother even got himself caught up in heavy debt, being in need of a place to stay.

however at first, he had asked you, but ever since you had gotten adopted you had already spent the majority of your life with him.

to say you were tired was an understatement.

as a matter of fact kaveh did find a place to stay in the end, one you were quite surprised to hear of, bewildered even, you just couldn't wrap your head around how on earth that was supposed to work out in the long run.

you had heard of his roommate, the akademiya's scribe, or how most people were referring to him, as alhaitham, from kaveh himself, aside of the very detailed stories about how ill mannered and ignorant he could become, especially to your brother in question.

in all honesty, it made you laugh, you mean to tell him that yes, sometimes messing with him, taking a lot out of him could be fun in all aspects but maybe it was due to the fact that you were practicing those methods from your childhood days on.

as life went on, you found yourself at his new settling every once in a while, more often when the scribe himself wasn't there, almost as if kaveh was trying his utmost best to never have you both meet each other.

once you had asked him as to why, feeling insulted that he even thought you wouldn't realize when he was making it painfully conspicuous, more whenever your brother would panic that *now* he was usually coming home from his work, you had to leave right now.

all he had to say about it was that he was certain you wouldn't like him anyways, would actually loath him too and wasn't it a part of nature to protect your younger sibling from each major plague in life?

to that, you couldn't respond with anything meaningful, suffocating the conversation right then and there because truthfully, though it may seem strange, you didn't think your brother would lie to you in that precise set of circumstances because maybe he was right, perhaps you really would hold a hostile environment towards the scribe.

even now, as you were strolling through an appealing, warm evening in sumeru city, you not once had met alhaitham, at this being slightly hopeful that you wouldn't cross paths with him today either.

because you see, it was that time of the month again, the: your brother has, again, forgotten something at home after visiting you, putting on the responsibility on your shoulders to fetch and transport it back to his place.

ordinarily you concluded that at this time of the day kaveh surely must've gotten home by now, you knew his schedule by heart and were quite confident to meet him there right away, knocking on the door as you at last, found your way to the huge place he resided in.

knock, knocking once more, silence ... knock again?

after knocking a total of three times, with no one opening the door for you, your expression slightly changed from normal, to confused, to that of being utterly annoyed.

it's not like you didn't have anything better to do other than being your brothers little assistant or however you wanted to frame it.

since you had been to his place numerous amounts of times before, in addition that you determined that he surely must've fallen asleep again, you decided to check the door handle to see if it was open all along, which it then, was.

(you put an important mental note in the deepest ends of your brain to scold him afterwards for carelessly leaving the door to his home open like this.)

you carefully cradled your fingers around the door handle to pull it down, pushing the door open to let yourself in.

okay, well, maybe it wasn't a smart idea to just straight up enter a home from someone you didn't know, but kaveh was living there for a good amount of time already so you didn't think too much of it.

the second you had entered you swiftly closed the door behind you, the faint breeze from outside scampering around your body as you tightly held onto the two books he forgot at your place, walking towards the living room.

"kaveh?" you spoke, rolling your eyes and deciding to get a bit louder, already being done with this whole, bloody situation, "kaveh!"

once reaching the living room you with, might i add, a bit too much applied strength, violently thumped the books onto the wooden coffee table and huffed out, distressfully folding your arms in front of your body.

"what has that poor table done to you?" you helplessly shrieked the moment you had perceived an unfamiliar, deep voice, the little hairs on the back of your neck standing straight while you were slowly turning around in horror.

"who are you?!" you could say you spoke before actually bringing the whole situation to your mind to thoroughly think about it, leaving the unacquainted man in front of you with a confused look on his face.

"I think i could ask you the same." he was quick to gather a response, flawlessly bringing himself a step closer towards your frame but still leaving enough space between your bodies.

"because you see, this is my house." instead of kindly introducing himself to you, like any other person would, he swiftly walked past your body to plop himself onto the massive couch.

but never keeping his gaze off you, carefully sliding his eyes from your lips, to your exposed collarbones and glissading them over your body until reaching your legs.

it seemed as if he was waiting for a response from you, after all you had now rapidly deducted that this had to be none other than the scribe, alhaitham, himself.

you turned around to slightly lower your gaze to where he was sitting at, nonchalantly sipping on his cup before placing it on the coffee table right next to kaveh's books.

"so .. you must be?" warily, you allocated a question into the room, anxiously swaying in your footing from left to right.

"the owner of this house."

seriously?

the least he could do now was approach you back in kindness instead of making it a dozen amount more difficult for you, as well as embarrassing.

"that's not what i meant." how rude, okay, to give him the benefit of the doubt you were the one who broke into his house but clearly he must've known who you were.

or maybe he actually didn't when you take into account that all kaveh and alhaitham would do was bicker with each other day on day, play pranks or make it as difficult as possible for one another without actually exchanging a normal sounding sentence, once.

"what did you mean then?" casually, he settled back into the couch to withhold the long overdo smirk on his lips, leaning one hand over the frame, his eyes being currently fascinated by your cute lips, pretty eyes, attractive thighs and in confusion, scrunched up face.

or what about the skirt you were wearing, it neatly fit you and magnified your alluring curves, as if it was tailored just for your body to dress in.

what if you were to bend down right now, would the garment expose your cute panties underneath or was it just right, situated under your plump ass? keeping everything hidden from his hungry eyes.

your expression was being somewhat amusing, the hilarity of it all barely being able to be hidden.

"you know what? I'm leaving." attempting to stressfully remove the books off the wooden table, he quickly rose up to confidently sit upright, "wait."

"i assume you're kaveh's sibling?" the worst thing of it all was the tone in his voice, as if he wasn't actually asking you, just proving his own thesis. "yes."

you slowly pulled your shoulders back to appear more poised in your mannerism, standing upright when he suddenly shifted in his seat, scooting as to try to make some space for you.

"i'm alhaitham, though i don't think you've heard many good things about me." at the tip of his sentence, he gently tapped the now empty area next to him with his hand, beckoning you to take a seat.

what harm was there in doing that, right? it appeared as if kaveh wasn't home yet so you could spare some time to wait for him, with alhaitham, of all people.

his voice reverberated a deep, gentle timbre, as well as a controlling chime trussed around it.

you've quietly settled on the couch and exchanged names with him, you were wholly surprised to find such a man, that was for one, in all aspects different from what your brother had originally told you about and second, although he shared a couple intimidating peculiarities— which might be a natural revealing trait from his work, alhaitham was a clever, pleasant person to have a conversation with.

"kaveh is getting held back at the akademiya." he was idly finishing his drink, inconspicuously scurrying a couple inches closer to you.

"you can wait here if you want." you smile at his proposal, situating yourself within reach to better listen to him, "thank you so much, i will."

alhaitham hummed at your sense of utterance, his choice of words was well thought after, his body language too, turning it altogether more clear.

"who knew kaveh's sibling would be so well mannered." he added, understandably focusing on your lips or how they held a glint of sparkly lipgloss on top, "it's so different from him."

how would you taste like? the lipgloss he means.

would it be sticky on his lips? if he kisses you, or taste artificial, maybe a small amount of strawberries, the gloss faded in a translucent tone after all so all he could do was guess.

you're finding yourself awkwardly laughing at his words, "he's not always like that." nodding along, you decided to not dwell on it any longer, it was polite to bring forth your well mannered approach, after all he did open his doors for you ..

.. or you actually did, but he let you stay.

"i don't think kaveh is as polite as you?" he was lingering a bit closer now and for some reason you found the warmth his body set free pacifying.

you're able to fully glance over his facial features, focusing on the small dimples dwindling around the corners of his lips, his multicolored irises or the enticing cologne hanging in midst the air.

your nostrils were slightly flaring, involuntarily memorizing his scent, archons, you couldn't stop yourself from traveling into your thoughts, fighting every square in your body to halter yourself from drifting off into your daydreams.

"uh-" at first, you had no clue he was staring at you the whole, damn time, his hair strands were effortlessly falling around his porcelain skin, intently watching you through his thick lashes, "it depends on the person, i think."

"on the person you say." he trails off before smiling at you, a little coy and intriguing, the right corner of his lips being tucked back into a smirk.

you didn't even realize how close you two have been sitting next to each other by now, only being brought back to reality when you accidentally nudged your knee against his own, pulling in a sharp breath through your nose.

his scent was now heavily falling down on you, much more violent than before. A tease actually, that's what he was and you fell into it head first, your embarrassment cushioning your sweet cheeks with immense warmth as you disconcertingly pushed your thighs together.

so sweet, you never questioned yourself, and what about your brother? would he want you to fuck his roommate, or maybe, try and kiss him right now? and you know you shouldn't, obviously.

you could just fantasize about it after getting your ass up to leave this place, or this suffocating heat he effortlessly inflicted on you with nothing more than his pretty eyes delving daggers into your sweet skin.

but you wanted to taste it, the actual thing, his plump lips, you weren't this captivated by a person in a long time and it somehow scared you away, almost that is, because right now you were still sitting next to him, your knees playfully rubbing and nudging together.

his hand suddenly moves from his side to yours, gently being placed on top of your swaying thigh, massaging the soft skin when he noticed your slight shaking.

you returned his call, attempting to close the distance when he suddenly spoke again, "what would your brother say to this?" you only realize his hand wandering down more close when he rubbed painfully slow circles into the insides of your warm thigh, "would he be surprised, mad or furious?"

you're whining, he didn't even touch you on your burning little sensation and you were already helplessly heaving out, soft cries prickling from your throat to escape your lips.

"he doesn't have to know— please." this whole situation had your body tear each square of control off you and you were wondering what you were begging for in the first place.

perhaps to alhaitham— to keep his mouth shut in front of your brother, or maybe, you were additionally begging him to finally touch your clothed pussy with the flimsy material of your panties being drenched with nothing but your slick.

"Mm, please?" he's acting innocent, gently tipping his head to the side as his hand delved deeper, carefully pushing past your skirt, cupping your wet heat at once. "ah— there we go."

a single finger worked against you as you silently cried out, resting your forehead against his own while spreading your legs a little farther away.

it's only his middle finger but it still felt big, his build was remarkable and you could perceive a couple veins accentuating the back of his muscular arm rubbing circles on your clothed clit.

"you're wet there." he notes almost immediately, "what were you thinking about this whole time?" oh how sweet you were, the ticklish sensation of his knuckles ghosting on your skin had you giddy on the inside, your toes curling in your shoes. "n-nothing."

you deny whatever he thought about yet alhaitham knew better than this, way better, the amount of essence that coated his fingertips was too much evidence for you to blatantly repudiate his questions.

"pull up your shirt." he's fast, whispering against your neck when he instantaneously planted wet, open mouthed kisses on the thin skin, roughly slithering his tongue over it.

you do as he commands, quickly discarding your shirt but not completely, only letting the garment clutch over your breasts that were covered by your bra.

"good girl." you're trembling at the nickname, in your seat greedily burying your hands into his soft hair to pull him closer to your neck, letting him plant gentle bites and nips on you while simultaneously skimming his finger over your shielded folds.

"can you—" before you could finish, you stopped yourself from speaking, your attention being redirected by your sensitive little clit being pinched on.

you're throwing your head back at the slightly painful, yet fiery touch on you, "ah, please, more!" the anticipation in you to finally have his fingers deep inside your pussy, stirred up the adrenaline in your blood, yanking one of your legs over his own as alhaitham pulled you closer.

"more?" you clearly caught his interest, he lightly taps your clit with his middle finger before adding another one, your thighs instantly jolting up at the applied friction of another digit. "like this?"

"yeah— like this." you weakly responded, your voice a tone higher, alhaitham huffed out his warm breath on your damp neck that was wholly and sloppily glazed with his saliva when you smiled airily at him, resting your head against his comforting shoulder.

you're suddenly crying out, biting back a delicate whine when he gingerly hooked his fingers into the garment to at last, meet your exposed cunt, licking his lips at the sight.

if only your face wasn't so mesmerizing to look at while he's scissoring your tiny hole, alhaitham wanted to map it all out, your little pussy, every single inch, embed it into his perverted mind and jerk himself off at the thought of it afterwards.

he's greedily pulling your panties down, letting the flimsy material loosely dangle around your ankle as he positioned your leg back up on his own, watching your fluttering hole clench down on his curled up fingers.

if it wasn't for his other hand holding you open you were sure you would've suffocated the blood in his other arm by the way you wanted to push your thighs together around him, messily riding his digits with your bare cunt.

"i love how you feel down there." he shamelessly threw into the room, as if he didn't even care how shameful this situation was in its entirety, "you feel so good clamping down on me like that."

he smiles when he caught you yank your hips up a bit, meeting his pace midway, the raw squelching sounds of his fingers selfishly digging into your squishy walls rang through the big living room, your eyes squiring a glassy expression by the force alhaitham was going for.

"what if your brother comes in now?" at this, you reasonably gasped, desiring to actually smack that stupid grin off his face, "d-don't say that!" you mutter inaudibly as you're tucking him closer, your breasts cramming onto his chest when he looked at you, "really now?"

"imagine poor kaveh sitting on this couch afterwards." alhaitham heaved, abruptly pecking your lips when you deducted that this was the first time he had kissed you, at all, "the same couch I'm finger fucking his sibling on, right now."

you're moaning out screaming when he added a third and final finger, splitting your tiny hole with his thick digits and curling up, nudging the hammering spots deep within in your creamy walls.

his inappropriate choice of words had your mind turn hazy, liquifying all the rational thoughts in your body and turning them to nothing at all, dissolving them and replacing them with filthy, perverted things.

you could name it a carnal desire when you decided to hungrily kiss him, capture his plump lips with teeth colliding against each other.

it wasn't as tasteful as you thought it would be at first, the built up tension made it quite difficult to focus on two tasks at the same time, in addition to how hard alhaitham was fucking your tingling cunt.

yet alhaitham didn't mind, he wholly welcomed you, circling his wet muscle over your own as he pushed you deeper into the couch, adoring how your thighs began to vibrate from the sense of overstimulation he was capable to inflict on you throughout seconds.

how was it possible for him to be so good at this, so fucking skilled at pleasuring you senseless?

really, he only had met you today and you couldn't even remember another time when you were this needy, this wet and filthy minded because of another person.

"I think I'm close." you mewl out, your eyes being low lidded and beginning to strain from merely holding them open. Alhaitham snickered at your words, desperately suckling on your lips as he further amplified the tempo on your pussy. "close you say?"

he worked like magic, truly, it was addicting to be with him, the pleasure in you was heavily boiling, more so when your sensitive nipples began to roughly rub over the edge of your bra, your areolae being half exposed for his hungry, desiring eyes.

he was quick to pull himself away from your swollen lips, instead drawing himself to one of your nipples to encircle it in his warm mouth, greedily suckling in his breath to nibble on your tit while carrying on with his relentless pace on your cunt.

your lips twitch when you clasped them together, his finger pads grazing through the squishy flesh when your body tensed up, your hands having no other choice than to cradle around his neck, finally letting your orgasm wash over you.

"come on." his voice was raspy, "we're running out of time, you can do it, pretty." at his words you were helplessly scrunching your eyes shut, to half of his sentence you didn't even listen to, it was clear that the brutality of his touch alone would leave you sore, painfully sore but also yearning for him to do it once again.

you're limply grinding your hips into his hand a couple more times when you vehemently released into him, his palm being utterly drenched in your filthy slick while his thumb was carrying on to roll over your overstimulated clit.

you're moaning out his name, it felt silly to do it, to say it like that as if you were actually familiar with each other, contradicting the reality which was that you had just met him, not even hours ago.

"would you look at yourself." he purrs, alhaitham was lazily digging his fingers into your swollen cunt, captivated by your exhausted body listlessly leaning back, your chest heaving up and down and your thighs tightly clamping around his arm.

it was far too humiliating to look at him, to even speak back or say something.

because why, the moment you'd be brought back to reality, after a good fucking orgasm, all the problems would scrub over you in an instant, not even giving you additional time to bath in your deserved afterglow.

you noisily peaked between your legs with your loose cunt being still filled by his thick digits, noticing a dampened splotch underneath.

"you ruined my couch." he's noting before messily pulling out of you, his fingers being drenched in your sticky mess and quietly connecting to your cunt with a string of your essence holding you together.

"i— i didn't do it on purpose." you panic, not catching on that he was actually being sarcastic with you.

alhaitham for once, broke off the attention from your body, locating it to his soaked fingers before slowly opening his mouth, placing them on top of his tongue and closing his lips around it.

your eyes grew wide, the downright sinful look on his face had you hypnotized, another rush of excitement pistoling into you.

you find yourself staring without shame, drooling over the fact that alhaitham began to groan around his fingers, slurping them clean while searching for your gaze to hold them close to his own.

you were sure you were never going to get rid of this picture in your memories, you'll have it installed in your deepest depths forever.

when he was done, he carefully slid them off his lips, attempting to say something if it wasn't for a sudden noisy sound echoing through the heavy, of intimacy smelling, room.

you turned around in horror as you watched the door handle of the front door get pulled down, immediately alhaitham grabbed onto your shirt to drag it down your breasts, hiding your bare skin as he searched for a pillow to cover the obvious, painful erection in his pants.

"hey idiot, i'm home." the voice was sadly, very familiar, kaveh was now home.

kaveh? your brother! the one you were actually seeking out in the first place.

in a strive to look for your panties you lowered your gaze, yet being unable to spot them all over the floor when your brother walked into the living room at last.

"why is it so hot in here? oh—" his words instantly died in his throat the moment he had seen you sit next to his roommate, his eyes dramatically twitching, "what are you doing here?"

"what have you done?!" kaveh was quick to point whatever blame he could find on alhaitham, thankfully being oblivious to the fact that he rearranged your guts just a few moments ago.

"he did nothing, i promise!" you awkwardly laughed at the silence while clumsily getting up, innocently pushing your skirt down, "i was here to bring you your books and bumped into al— alhaitham!"

"no need to worry kaveh, i was only trying to make conversation." alhaitham sheepishly explained with an overly pleased smile on his face, yet not getting up, the big pillow resting on top of his pulsing crotch.

"whatever." kaveh rolled his eyes, being slightly irritated by the way you were so out of breath, deducting that alhaitham must've been a pain in the ass, overwhelming his poor, little sibling. "come on, lets get to my room."

as he went on to grab the books on the coffee table, you awkwardly ventured your gaze to alhaitham, just one last time, catching him stare at you before he playfully winked, darting his eyes away.

"lets go." kaveh was angry, cursing himself that he should've come home sooner, lightly pulling your arm so you'd follow him.

the moment alhaitham had heard the door of kaveh's bedroom close, he quickly disposed of the pillow on his lap, exposing your damp panties sticking to his pants.

you don't mind, do you?

you probably have a quite remarkable collection of underwear he has to see one day, until then, he'll give it his all to make good use of your panties ..

.. maybe even now, to fuck his stiff cock into the cloth while you're in your brother's room, without underwear, sore with your pussy still memorizing his slender, calloused fingers rubbing on your flesh.

yes, he might as well do it now.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #alhaitham smut #al haitham smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin x y/n #alhaitham x y/n #al haitham x you #alhaitham x you #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin impact alhaitham smut

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temis-de-leon · 4 months ago

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Gn!MC with chronic joint pain

Characters: Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub and Belphegor (x reader, separately, could be read as romantic or platonic)

Main Masterlist

Anon request: Could I request the brothers with a gn!MC with chronic joint pain? Sure, medicine makes it feel better when they take it, but it never 100% goes away and the meds aren't without side effects. On a good day, they can function relatively normally even if they do certain things at a slower pace. However, on a bad day, they can hardly get out of bed or do basic tasks (brush their teeth, lift a coffee cup, use a hand towel, etc) without difficulty, and require a fair amount of support when flare ups happen

A/N: I'm pretty sure Google thinks I'm the one with chronic pain

Mammon

Although he’s the one who spends time with you the most, it took an embarrassingly long time to notice how significant your winces and fatigue were. After all, his initial belief was that humans were naturally weak.

He thought he understood why you stayed too long in bed from time to time or why your brows would frown when you grabbed your backpack if it was especially heavy some days.

You’d say you couldn’t help it whenever he teased and of course, you talked with frustration each of those times, so he learnt to ignore it; just like you tried to do.

Then came the day when he crushed you in the hallway while running away from Lucifer. The only thing he could do before both of you fell to the ground was twist your body so he could act as a cushion, but even that wasn’t enough.

You started to complain before he had the chance to ask for payment for his ‘sacrifice’, but it wasn’t just words or berating; Lucifer was already doing plenty of that.

It was a mix of gasps and moans of pain that stopped both brothers in their tracks.

The only reason why the eldest didn’t obliterate the younger demon on the spot was because the guilt was already eating him alive.

He helps you with no asking needed, carrying your backpack to and from school, helping you put on your coat or making you breakfast, although it’ll most likely be burnt.

He’ll stop if it makes you feel useless or incapacitated on days when you are mostly okay, but if you’re barely able to lift your head off the pillow, you can bet all your money he’s laying right next to you ready to make you some company, even in silence.

It will take him some time, but, eventually, you will have his undying support.

Levi

Being as distracted as he is, with his eyes glued to a screen most of the day, wasn’t an excuse for him to ignore all the pill bottles in your bathroom cabinet or the way you sometimes couldn’t keep up with him when he was excited and walking too fast.

He feels like a horrible friend when you tell him. He should’ve known!

You will have to explain the whole situation to him in the comfort of his room, moments after he requests your presence for the testing of an arcade shooting game that will, for sure, make your arms sore for the next few days.

Although you assure him you can still play, just not for excruciatingly long periods and on lower difficulty, he still feels like he failed you in some way.

Sharing his interests with you will never be enjoyable as long as it has the possibility of causing you pain.

Fortunately, he knows countless games where long-range movements are not required and you can have fun anyway: visual and choice-based novels, turn-based RPGs, social simulation games…

He especially likes the choice-based ones. From your views on morality to romance and friendship, each important interaction with the characters or the lore helps him know you more and more as the game progresses.

It doesn’t stop there, though.

He will also try, not so subtly, to find games, shows, comics and manga where you can relate to the main character in one way or another.

It could be seen as pity, but that isn’t his intention at all. You should enjoy the media you interact with! Either heroes or villains or something in between, you should have someone you can understand on the screen or paper.

Asmo

Since observing you and everything related to you is an enjoyable pastime of his, it doesn’t take him long before he figures out your medication schedule. At first his beauty-driven mind thinks your pills are vitamin supplements, but then he notices the headaches, the stomach issues and the exhaustion; no doubt side effects.

It is on one of your worst days when he knocks on your door asking to spend the evening together. The only thing you can do to greet him is throw a weak peace sign from beneath the blankets and that’s when he pouts and frowns in worry.

He hopes you trust him enough to talk about it in case you want to keep it a secret and, if not, why would he treat it like a taboo subject?

He may be the only one who straight-up asks with absolute normality.

Changes are not noticeable at first seeing that he already liked being around you and dotting on you before knowing anything, but rest assured he will be there if you ever need him.

On days when you feel like you can’t take care of yourself, the only thing you have to do is send him a message.

Whatever you need, he will do.

From drawing a bath so you don’t have to stand up while holding the shower head to applying dry shampoo on your hair so you don’t get out of bed at all. He will also do your skincare routine and even your makeup if you're up to it; brush your teeth and your hair and organize your room while mindlessly chatting with you.

His favourite shared activity is painting your nails since you don’t have to move at all and you still enjoy each other’s company.

The rest of the brothers need to remind him from time to time that you aren’t a doll for him to dress, but he won’t ever do something that makes you uncomfortable in any way.

Beel

He doesn’t really notice until it comes up naturally in conversation.

You’re both in the kitchen, getting a snack to hold on until everyone is ready for dinner, and he starts talking about a new workout plan he is following in the gym. A famous bodybuilder posted it on his Devilgram account and he was too curious not to give it a shot.

Although he can do it on his own, he likes to spend time with you, so he innocently asks if you want to go with him someday and try it, even if it’s a watered-down beginner version.

It’s not like you can’t go to the gym, but the number of exercises you feel like you can do is limited and you need to be mindful while doing all of them. Hell, even at home you need to be careful with some of your movements, doing simple chores like making your bed or washing the dishes.

You remind him how you cook too, usually doing one-pot meals and trying to use your body as little as possible; there are human influencers (highly recommend) that show specific tricks to make cooking easier for people like you, after all.

Luckily, he understands immediately, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to give up.

Unbeknownst to you, he researches specialized exercises and routines, as well as food, made to alleviate pain and strengthen your weakest points.

It isn’t a definitive solution, and certainly not the best, but it’s the thought that counts and he’s genuinely trying to make your life more comfortable and pleasant; not so draining.

He won’t push if you decline his offers and options (he’ll never force you to do anything, even if it benefits you), but will be extremely happy if you accept.

Belphie

He never asks, but you never have to tell him either, he just knows.

Your pain reflects in the way you move and live your day-to-day life, slower than the rest of them and always taking precautions, medicating yourself periodically even if sometimes that isn’t enough.

All of them have dinner in your room when you’re feeling way worse than usual and each time his memories can’t help but go back to that fateful evening in the attic.

He willingly and excitedly caused you abysmal pain back then, but he doesn’t want to imagine how underestimated his measurements are.

You suffered, yes, but all of that happened in the past.

Asking you what exactly hurts and what makes it worse won’t help his guilt at all.

Now that he can help you, he won’t do anything but.

Being who he is and liking what he likes, he has a trustworthy list of mattresses and pillows that he doesn’t hesitate to share with you.

He knows better than anybody else what a well-rested body can do to the mind and, although it may not help much, he insists you try at least once.

Going shopping for something like this and doing it with him is a double-edged sword; while he couldn’t be a better critic, there’s also the possibility of him falling asleep on one of the mattresses on display.

And you know perfectly well you aren’t going to be the one dragging him back home, so inviting Beel as well is always the best choice; especially since you can hang out after shopping knowing that you will have your purchase delivered.

If you still feel like you aren’t getting any rest, he will use a little bit of his magic to make you fall asleep more easily without waking up in discomfort.

Taglist: @hatchers-hoard @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom

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galedekarios · 9 months ago

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this is a personal vent post so please let me just get it all out without trying to come at me lol:

so many ppl saying they respect larian's decision to peace out and not deal with hasbro/wotc, but i have to be honest, i don't respect them at all.

they are leaving a game behind that is unfinished and a narrative mess.

they leave a game behind where everyone paid the same amount of money for it, yet depending on which character you prefer, you get less content.

the disparity between everyone else and their writer's pet ast*rion is insane. he has a half to a third more content depending on which character you compare him to.

they leave behind a sparse act 2, which is already so barren compared to act 1 and all it had to offer. act 3 is a narrative mess and lacks structure.

they leave a game behind where they made promises a handful of weeks before release where they ought to have known that they, in fact, will not be delivering said promises: access to the upper city, consequences for playing certain races across the acts (playing a drow is going to be different in act 1 and gives you advantages vs act 3 where it would give you understandable disadvantages), etc etc etc.

they leave behind a game where content was cut from the companions to make it seem like the origins have something to offer when that system is barely able to compare what origin playthroughs offered in dos2 and it hurts the game and the experience (like tara being cut for companion gale).

they leave behind a game where they promised to much variety and proclaimed in panels from hell how they struggled to show the width and depth of the game, but really? it's about as deep as a puddle. a lot of the choices do not matter. kill ethel? nah, she's alive and well in the city. no sister hags to be angry here. give karlach no infernal iron and never talk to her at all? doesn't matter, she'll survive until the end of act 3 and will still call you her bff. dissuade gale to use the orb? we'll make sure he'll still offer 3 more times just in case. send yenna away from camp bc you don't want her there? doesn't matter, she'll stay. and yes, i'm aware these are all small things, but they are part of a larger problem. almost nothing you do truly matters to the point of where i just skip most things in act 1 and 2 now.

they leave behind a game that they promise to still patch, but some things have been broken since early access / release to the point of where i'm like i'm sorry, but your word that you will continue to patch things means about as much to me as all the other empty promises. the dialogue about morena dekarios is still broken and it's been over half a year now. the astral sea scene has low-res body textures for months. i know from mutuals who love minthara that her romance is still broken. and i could go on and on.

and what gets me the most about this is all is that they have learned nothing at all from dos2: act 3 of that game was so bugged and all over the place that i couldn't muster up the motivation to finish it the first time i played. they neglected a character to the point of where he could have been removed from the game or made a general hireling (beast).

those issues were at least attempted to be fixed in the definitive edition.

with swen saying that there will be no new content anymore and stating that both bg3 and its characters are now property of wotc/hasbro, it seems unlikely we'll even get an attempt of a fix.

so what this boils down to to me is just another game company not delivering on their promises after overselling their product and more or less abandoning it after a year to move onto the next big thing.

i don't think i can respect that ngl.

#vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #text: personal #larian critical #bg3 critical

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queenpiranhadon · 9 months ago

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A/N: You all voted on this poll, and this poll, and this poll and after a LOT of voting (((again) again) again), we have this :) I’ll be honest though, I have mixed thoughts about this. Nova, I owe you my life for beta reading this ily girl (@that-multi-fandom-hijabi) Go follow her writing acc! (@novaaaaaa-writes) Here's my masterlist! Divider made by @cafekitsune

Warning(s): Enemies to lovers trope, mentions of blood, reader's a baddie, reader used to work for Azula, bad depictions of firebending, maybe some inaccuracies idk man, some people might be ooc idk 😅, thoughts about death (like once), lots of buildup, reader is a good cook, reader owns a restaurant, reader sets a table on fire, both of them are very attracted to each other lmao, reader refuses to fire bend, I kinda head cannoned, basically if a firebender doesn't firebend of a certain amount of time, the fire inside them builds up and can damage the wielder, like clogged pipe in a way, love at first sight (?), slowburn kinda, reader is GN but written with f!reader in mind.

Pairing: Sokka x Firebender!Reader

•─────•°•❀•°•──── ᴇᴇʟ ʀᴏʟʟꜱ ────•°•☁︎•°•────•

It was safe to say, you were screwed. Traitor to the Fire Nation and all.

“Ugh…” you grit out, patting your side in discomfort, pulling your hand away to find sticky blood.

It was safe to say that Princess Azula wasn’t too happy to find out you didn’t approve of the current ideals of the Fire Nation. Alas, you were too far deep into her scheme to leave then, and you were now- but this time, you ran away.

You weren’t going to find the Avatar- joining him would only make things harder on yourself- especially since he and his friends most definitely hated you for all the stunts you pulled alongside the son and daughter of Firelord Ozai.

So you were left with two options. Sit in the dark and disgusting alleyway you were hiding in and bleed to death, or find somewhere to stay, patch yourself up, and bunker down with a new identity.

If there’s one thing the Fire Nation would underestimate about you- it was your will to live.

The journey to the Earth Kingdom was torturous, your aching feet would be screaming in overexertion, yet you pushed on. Solitude was your only solace, though the lack of social interaction guaranteed nothing would stop the onslaught of dark thoughts entering your mind, it was comforting to you that you were finally free to make your own decisions without anyone else influencing them.

You reached the gates of the Earth Kingdom battered and bruised- the month of so that you traveled for changed your appearance quite a bit- your hair slightly longer and the numerous different climates you had suffered through allowed your hair to settle into gentle waves. You got thinner, lack of food turning you into a near skeleton, but the muscles you had trained your whole life remained, and you were stronger than ever. Obviously, the guards didn’t recognize you, letting you pass without a hitch under a fake name.

You found a kind older woman in the outer ring of Ba Sing Se, who offered you take you in for the night.

There, you enjoyed a soothing bath and a good meal, and she was pleasant company. You slept on the couch that night, and left early the next morning, leaving a few gold coins as a subpar payment for her hospitality.

And then you were on your own again.

Days passed, and then months, you worked almost every job under the sun as you finally scrounged up enough money to open your own store.

It was a nice and quaint restaurant, and you worked your blood, sweat, and tears into it- and that was a statement, you rarely cried. Not anymore anyways- experiencing so much loss does that to people.

You called it the Unagi- your restaurant known for its excellent soups and eel rolls, both of which were comfort foods growing up. Even though you vowed to start a new life, and throw your old one behind, you kept this part of your old life with you. You stopped bending, not a single spark or flame left your fingertips after the day you left the Fire Nation.

Months passed, 7 to be exact, and you had built quite the reputation in Ba Sing Se- travelers from all over had some solely to try your food, and they were not disappointed. Your cooking prowess as a force to be reckoned with- and you enjoyed in immensely. For the first time in years, you were happy.

Of course, rush hour was the most overwhelming experience you had ever had to experience- as you refused to hire anyone to assist you run your shop- your trust had run thin, and you weren’t going to risk the product of your hard work to anyone. Eventually, you learned to keep all your ingredients preprepared- and then cook them in your soups and put them in your rolls the morning of each day, so that they were all fresh and it was less work for you. All your customers were understanding, and respected you for your time and work. People loved your story- a stranger and a traveler with basically next to nothing, and then turned your life around in just a few months.

After a few months, you practically knew all the gossip in the city- always overhearing the snippets of murmurs from your customers. Usually, you paid no mind to them, but today, what you heard stopped you in your tracks.

“Did you hear?”

“Yeah! The Avatar and his crew were spotted at the gates this morning!”

“Do you think Ba Sing Se is in trouble?!”

“I hope not, after what happened in the Northern Wa-”

You stopped listening after that, going back to the kitchen with the blood roaring in your ears. You stirred the soup you were making with a new intensity, as it your life depended on it. Dread pooled in your stomach- if the Avatar and his friends came around the Unagi, you were done for. The Avatar would recognize you, the only one to have seen you without the normal mask you wore- and the only one out of the group you had met.

You sighed, deciding to ignore the fear you felt. Months of peace wore down your guard a little bit, and you were used to forcing your body into a state of ease after the first few weeks you had stayed in the city- nightmares plaguing you day and night. They were gone now, thankfully, but if the Avatar and his friends destroyed everything you worked so hard to maintain, you might break.

Fortunately, weeks went by without a hitch, no sign of the Avatar, and no sign of the Unagi being burnt down.

One day, on a relatively quiet day, you hear a few voices outside.

“Here Sokka, Toph, take some gold and treat yourself to some food, I hear this place is really good.” A female voice says, she sounded around 14-15 years old. “We’ll meet you back in the square- bring some for the rest of us.”

You don’t hear much of what the girl says afterwards, opting to resume taking orders. That’s when you lay your eyes on the boy in front of you. He had a wolf’s knot, something you knew to be common in the water tribe. He had the build of a warrior, toned muscles littered with scars that you knew weren't achieved easily. And his eyes, a brilliant shade of blue you thought you could get lost in, a pleasant contrast to the red of the Fire Nation you would be tied to for the rest of your life.

It takes you a few minutes to realize you were staring, and a few more to realize that he was too. You cough into your fist awkwardly and look away, realizing you had company.

The young girl next to him slams a few pieces of gold onto the counter, but you, unlike the boy across from you, didn’t flinch – you were used to it. “Whaddya got for us, lady?” she asks in a brash tone, but you weren’t intimidated, nor were you offended, but the boy you were staring at earlier still apologizes on her behalf.

You chuckle lightly, it amused you to see the energy in the two of them as you respond to the girl’s question. “The gold can get you some soup with some salmon, along with eel rolls, on the house.” you say, smiling lightly.

The boy’s eyes light up in excitement, though he seemed a little older than you, there was no mistaking that childish enthusiasm for a nice homecooked meal.

“Can I get your name?” You ask, grabbing your notepad and quill to write down the order.

“Sokka” he says, with a teasing sparkle in his eyes, and you can’t help but grin at his antics. It’s been a while since you felt like this. You, giddy over a crush? The feeling was a little foreign to you, but it wasn’t unwelcome.

“And you?” he asks, leaning slightly over the counter. You reciprocate his movements, telling him your name and telling him and his friend to take a seat.

Sokka and his friend, Toph, left shortly after, taking their soup to go and devouring their eel rolls. It was late now, you were sweeping up the floors, planning to leave and close the Unagi in an hour or so, before something unexpected happened.

You feel a sharp pain in your chest collapsing to the ground, your insides felt like they were burning, invisible flames eating away and you. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, mind raging and all you could see what red.

Why was this happening to you?

You felt your body flare up in pain, and all you wanted was for it to stop for it to go away.

“You will always be a part of the Fire Nation. “Azula had told you, with a manic look in her eye. “No matter how long you try to suppress it, your inner fire will never be satisfied. One day, your fire will turn against you, your body won’t be able to handle it anymore, no matter how strong you think you are. Let’s face it, you’re a monster, just like me.”

You didn’t hear the jingle of the door opening.

Letting out an anguished cry, you thrust out your arms, cerulean flames setting one of your tables on fire.

And staring at you, through the blue flames, were those sparkling eyes you loved so much. Staring at you with disgust and horror.

“Sokka, oh my god-” you say, in shock.

“Who are you.” he cuts in, his eyes sharp and cold.

“I-I swear, I’m not with the Fire Nation anymore, I-” You stutter, your throat closing in. You stumble back, staring at the flaming table with a horrified look in your eyes.

Sokka looks at you, unsure of what to do. You were the enemy, you were a firebender, one who could wield blue flames. Yet... he knew you were telling the truth. You were the same person who kindly gave them free food and didn’t turn them away even with Toph’s brashness.

He sighs, and looks around, before turning back to you. “C’mon, let’s go find my friends. My sister’s a waterbender, she’ll put out the fire for you.

You just stand there numb, your body still reeling from the aftershocks of feeling so much pain. You didn’t realize you were crying until Sokka walks up to you and wraps his arms around you, letting your tears soak into the fabric of his shirt. He strokes your hair lightly and holds you close. He smelled earthy, a musk that reminded you of the scent you smelled after it rained, all natural and grounding, soothing your worries.

“I’m here.” is all he says, and you stand like that, Sokka’s frame blocking the blue flames from your sight- a barrier between the life you live now, and the one you left behind.

BONUS:

After Sokka and you find Katara and the others, you put out the fire- Aang recognized you immediately, but Sokka vouched for you, saying that you didn’t ally with the Fire Nation anymore, and that you were trustworthy. And then, once you guide them to the back of the store, where your living quarters were, you and Sokka were alone again.

“Hey Sokka?” you ask, the boy in question looking at you with his full attention. “Why were you at my shop in the middle of the night?”

Sokka chuckles sheepishly and looks at you with that sparkle in his eyes. “I may or may not have been craving those eel rolls of yours.”

You snort, and you look at him with a teasing smile on your face. “You still hungry?”

It was safe to say neither of you got much sleep that night, up laughing and throwing rice grains at each other.

#sokka atla #sokka x reader #atla sokka #sokka avatar the last airbender #sokka #the gaang #gaang #avatar the last airbender #atla #sokka x y/n #sokka x you #⋆｡‧˚ʚ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖚𝖉 𝖆𝖗𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖛𝖊𝖘 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

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unoislazy · 1 year ago

Text

‘Til The Caged Bird Sings

(Part 2)

Mizu x Mixed! Fem! Reader

Content Warning: Contains violence and mentions of SA

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Mizu stared at the blood left on the floor, her entire body trembling in fear and anger as the possibilities of what could’ve happened to you zoomed through her head. She shook her head to snap herself out of it, if something had happened to you then she would only have a certain amount of time to get to you before the situation would be made worse. Mizu looked around for anything that might’ve been left behind by the idiots who thought it a good idea to mess with you of all people. The last thing she had found was a torn piece of clothing which just so happened to have a crest on it.

It was a symbol she had seen before but she did not know the name of the gang.

What Mizu did know was that they were known for their careless assassinations, the trafficking they partook in, and their want to take out anyone who they deemed to be too ‘impure’.

She had never run into them personally but she had assumed they had been hired by someone to get to you… but why now? After all these years?

And why would they go after you?

She felt guilty for not being there to save you, she could’ve stopped this from happening if she had just stayed by your side.

Now wasn’t the time to get stuck on the ‘what ifs’. She had a chance to save you, so she needed to act now. She quickly dawned her old disguise, the one that she hadn’t used in years. She never needed to, she was comfortable enough around you to not hide who she was. She put on the old yellow tinted glasses, tying her hair up in the old hairstyle she used to put it in, her loose clothing disguising any part of her that might’ve been considered feminine. Lastly she put her wide brimmed hat on and grabbed her sword, giving one last look at the extremely messy house before embarking on her quest to find you.

She might not have known who exactly had you, but she at least knew where to start.

Mizu traveled by horse from town to town, eventually making her way to a town that was a bit of a ways away from your home village, the only thing she could focus on was the anger that continued to flow throughout her. Ever since she had met you, you two had never been apart for more than a few hours at a time, and even then you were no more than a two minute walk to the other partner. Mizu couldn’t help but be clingy, she had gotten so used to every single person who had a role in her life leaving her at one point or another and she feared that you would do the same, so she never left you alone. She enjoyed your company, she appreciated how you treated her, she loved doing things with and for you, she loved you. She loved you with every part of her heart. She didn't think it would be possible for her to ever truly claim that, but you gave her a feeling no one else had ever done.

You accepted every part of her just as she had done for you.

She was happy with you.

She especially loved when you two would just spend time under the stars together, whether you sat in silence or you would share your secrets with each other, it didn’t matter to her. One of her favorite memories with you was the day she had actually realized she had feelings for you. She denied it hysterically but she remembered the exact moment it hit her.

You were just doing your own thing, minding your business and working as you often did, before you had gotten up claiming you were going to go wash off in a water source that wasn’t too far from the house. At the time, Mizu didn’t pay much attention to you, she was more focused on just gettin healed and continuing on her journey but what had caught her attention was how you looked as you walked back through the doors of the house.

You were mostly covered up but that didn’t matter considering she was more focused on your face. You were still drenched, the water droplets left from your time in the water slowly dripped down your face and down to the uncovered parts of your body. Your hair was a bit of a mess, it stuck to your face haphazardly but your hands had gently brushed it away. Mizu was staring and she was staring hard. She couldn’t take her eyes off of you and despite her several attempts to, her eyes always found a way to wander back over to you. Her attempts only continued to fail as she tried her best to act like she didn’t even notice you had re-entered the room.

The way she had felt in that moment confused her but it also managed to get under her skin by a significant amount. After all, desire was beyond the need of her purpose, she needed to stay focused and continue with what she had set out and vowed she would do. She had been so consumed by the ideas of bloodshed and death that even the thought of settling down was something she wanted to avoid all together, but you had shown her that she was more than the sword she held, she was not a demon, she was a person just like anyone else.

Mizu looked back at that memory with a slight fondness, although it was quite an awkward moment for her, it was the exact moment she realized she was changing. For better or worse she couldn’t tell at the time, but now she knew it was for the better. Just because she had made that vow didn’t mean she always wanted to be seen as a bloodsoaked monster, all she wanted was to be looked at and not regarded as a devil.

Her horse continued to gallop over the grassy terrain as she held on, wandering if she would even get to you in time. She continued to wonder if she had taken too much time, she worried that once she had gotten through whatever amount of security they had, she would be too late. She didn’t want to lose you, she had lost everyone else that had come near her and she would rather die by her own hand than let something like that happen to you.

By the time she had arrived in the town it had gotten very dark. The place she had gone to wasn’t exactly familiar to her but she would have to start somewhere. She went over to one of the first men she saw, holding out the piece of fabric and asking,

“Do you know where I can find this group?”

Was it the best course of action, no of course not, but she was acting with haste. Usually when she was set on something she at least had the time to set out some sort of plan, but usually… your life wasn’t on the line.

The man that she had gone up to shook his head, claiming “I don’t want any trouble.”

and walked away. So Mizu went up to the next person, and the next but she had still been met with the same answer. There was no guarantee that this random town she had stopped at was going to have any answers but she had to at least try. At the very least she knew she was headed in the right direction.

Mizu tried one more person before she was ready to give up and move to the next town.

“Do you know where I can find the owner of this crest?” She asked, to which the woman looked down at the crest, then back up at her. She looked around her very quickly before silently nodding. Finally, a lead.

The woman beckoned Mizu to follow her into a more secluded area, and despite her better judgment she followed. She needed any help she could get, regardless of how sketchy the task to get it would be. The woman, now standing just before Mizu leaned towards her a bit, whispering, “They have a gambling house at the edge of town, rarely anyone goes there anymore out of fear of losing their money… or their life.” The woman informed her.

Sounded like every other gang affiliated house, just as powerful and unrelenting to the people around it too, considering the woman's skittishness. She must have had a run through with them at some point. She was lucky to have made it out alive by the looks of it.

“They’ve started attacking other villages, going out of their way to take out anyone they see fit. I don’t know what business you have with them, but if you value your life you’ll let it go.” The woman warned.

Mizu, of course, paid no mind to this. Her business wasn’t something she could just walk away from. She thanked the woman, beginning to walk away from her before the woman called out to her,

“Please reconsider! If they catch you, they won't stop even if you beg and plead for mercy!”

If anything, these words had the opposite effect on Mizu. It gave her even more motivation to hurry along with rescuing you. It had already taken long enough getting to this town, she didn’t want to take anymore time than what was needed.

Mizu made her way towards the edge of town, passing by the townspeople who stared as she passed by, each look given the same warning. It seemed to be silently agreed upon that past a certain point in the village, once you set foot there you weren’t coming back the same. You might come back alive, but you certainly wouldn’t be recognizable. She continued on, her face was stoic and emotionless, she could’ve fooled anyone if she had told them she was fine. However, under the surface she felt as if she was going to burst into flames. She felt as if her anger was clawing at her skin, eager to burst out and wreak havoc on anyone unfortunate enough to be near her, but she knew she had to keep her cool…

For now, at least.

Mizu kept herself hidden as she walked towards the gambling house, the entire place littered with guards and men who one could assume were there to waste their life away. She waited patiently, taking some time to memorize the movements of the guards before realizing they had left a small area uncovered. All she needed was to get inside, then all hell would break loose. Before making any moves, she first dropped anything that was unnecessarily clunky for a mission that would require a great deal of stealth. She took off her hat, her cape, the weights she wore on her arms and legs, and even her glasses. She needed to be able to perform as carefully as she could if she wanted to get you out safely, if you were even in there at all.

With as much stealth and agility as she could manage, Mizu made her way to the only unmonitored corner of the building. The grass made a very soft noise under her feet as she approached, they had boxes placed along the outside that she used to hoist herself up and grab onto the ledge. Once onto the ledge, she looked around for any opening she could find before someone would come around the corner. Luckily, one of the many doors that lined the outside was left even the slightest bit open, just enough for Mizu to squeeze herself inside.

Once inside she took note of her of surroundings, she seemed to be in someone's room. Luckily for her, no one was occupying it at the moment but there was a light coming from the other side of the wall. Someone was standing guard.

Why stand guard to an empty room?

She looked up, noticing the open spacing above the rooms, perfect for her to easily see everything happening from above. As she made her way up though, she could clearly hear some men laughing from another room over. They were the ones the guard was protecting.

She listened in, hoping one of them might have something important to say. As the laughter died down she could hear one of the men ask a question,

“So why’d you go after the demon in the countryside?” He asked, still partially laughing at whatever had been said beforehand.

“I would hardly call that snake a demon but you know what we do to the impure, one of my men had heard talk of one living just outside of Mihonoseki.” He gloated.

That’s where you lived.

They were talking about you.

Mizu waited a moment to hear what else they had to say before she would lose control.

“We were going to kill her like the rest, but my men deserved a bit of a treat every once in a while don’t you think?” He laughed and the rest laughed with him. Some of them even let out verbal cheers in agreement as they continued to share their food and drinks amongst each other.

These men… they stole you from Mizu and thought nothing of it.

They took you from her just to prove themselves better than the other.

They took you from her just to toss you around as if you were nothing more than a dirty kitchen rag.

Well that would be the last mistake they would ever get to make.

She had heard enough.

Mizu dropped down in the middle of the room, no longer caring about stealth or secrecy. The men all jumped back in shock, staring at what they assumed to be a man standing before them before drawing their blades.

“Who are you?” One of them asked, as if it even mattered.

“Where is my wife?” Was all she responded with, her eyes practically stabbed daggers in any of the men that she looked at. The one man, who she assumed was the leader of the gang, paused for a moment before erupting in laughter.

“You’re the one who's married to that half blooded demon? It all makes sense now!” He continued to laugh,

“No one wants a demon, so the two of you had to marry each other… How sweet.” He mocked, his demeanor exuded confidence, but his eyes held fear. He knew he had made a mistake but he’d be damned if he backed down now in front of the rest of the men.

“A pretty little singer she is, your wife I mean. Too bad after my men had their way she didn’t have the energy left to sing.” He bragged, causing some of the other men to snicker amongst themselves.

That was it, that was the last straw. Without even giving the men time to blink, Mizu drew her sword and attacked one of the six men that surrounded her. In a matter of seconds he fell to his knees, blood spilling out from his neck like a waterfall. The other men stood in shock and horror as they watched their friend fall before them. The leader, whos cocky demeanor had already began to melt away starred in fear before shouting,

“Move, do something! Fight!” He demanded. The other men began to attack but their attacks were sloppy and rigid. Clearly they weren’t the ones who were going out of their way and doing the attacking that they seemed to gloat about. One of the men had swung at Mizu, just barely missing her as she ducked underneath, sending a kick to his knee, dislocating it. He fell, just like his friend before him, screaming in agony. She quickly ended his crying with a swift blow through the chest, driving her sword almost entirely through him.

The guard that had been stationed outside the door had also come in to help the fight but Mizu truly didn’t take long to deal with him. Some guard he was.

She moved on to the next man who thought it wise to try and attack her from behind. As if it was rehearsed, she blocked the blow with her sword and knocked the man off balance. With one clean strike, she had given the man a large gash on his stomach area and he dropped to the ground, his eyes rolling back before he had ever hit the floor.

The two men that were left put up more of a fight than their assumed to be co-workers. One of the men had managed to actually land a blow on Mizu, luckily it hadn’t been with a sword seeing as she had already managed to disarm him by that point. He had managed to kick Mizu in her stomach as she went to swing which knocked her off balance and sent her flying by a bit. It hurt, she couldn’t deny it, but the adrenaline that coursed through her was enough for her to get up without even thinking twice about it.

Mizu lunged at the man, managed to take him out with a few labored swings of her sword, and turned to the last man and landed the final blow straight through his chest.

She then turned to the leader, his hands trembling as he held onto his sword. The man he saw before him was no man, he held the soul of a demon that bathed in blood and was fueled by anger.

She walked towards him, he weakly tried to attack her and failed almost immediately. She gripped onto the collar of his clothes, her sword pressed up against his neck as her eyes stared into the deepest parts of his soul. The look she was giving him had instilled a fear in the man that he had never felt before. The once pompous and arrogant leader had vanished, and in place of him was a shriveled up frightened child staring back at Mizu. She glared at him, her teeth gritting together as she lowly asked,

“Where is she?”

“Who, where is who?” The man asked, his entire body trembling as if he was just an innocent bystander. One might have thought that if they hadn’t seen him sitting amongst several other men who circled around him, waiting for his orders. This answer didn’t sit right with Mizu, he knew exactly who she was talking about as her grip tightened on his collar. She neared his face, her brows furrowed as her rage began to boil over, her icy blue eyes narrowing as she asked,

“Where is my wife?” She growled. Her threatening glare made the man shrink back in fear.

“I don’t know, I don’t know. I just told the men to deal with her, I don't know where they put her. Please I’ll give you anything you want, just don’t hurt me!” The man pleaded, nearly crying before her.

Mizu watched in disgust as the man practically groveled before her for the sake of his own life, the one he thought had been invincible not even twenty minutes before. He clearly had no information, so there was no reason left for him to live in her eyes. So with a swift and effortless movement, she sent her blade gracefully gliding across his throat. Within a matter of seconds the man dropped to the ground, blood spilling out as his eyes rolled back.

He lay there still slightly twitching as Mizu watched. Without another word, she left the room, leaving almost every inch of it soaked in blood. She didn’t know if there were more men, but if they had come across that room hopefully they would just take the hint and not try and be the ‘hero’ they thought they could be by stopping her.

She searched every inch of the house, opening sliding doors, checking every floor, even checking for hidden hatches that could’ve housed something that would lead her to find you. The longer she went on the more frantic her movements became. She hoped that the things the man had gloated about were just him trying to sound much more powerful than he was, she hoped and prayed to whatever higher power that had been listening that she would find you unscathed even though she knew that was unrealistic. You had been in the confinement of this horrid place for several hours considering how long it had taken Mizu to not only find this place but also travel to it.

As she frantically searched the room she was in for even the smallest thing that could have led her to you a man walked into the room, in a very unsuspecting manner before finally spotting her. Before the man could call for help, attack her, or do anything to get her caught, she lunged at him and kept him in her grip with her sword pressed up against his neck just as she had done to his leader.

The security in this place must have been awful for her to freely walk around without really having to care about being seen. She would’ve bet money on the fact that no one had gone to check on the bloodbath she had left the leaders room in but what else could she expect, sloppy assassins, sloppy security.

“The woman you took in early today, where are you keeping her?” She demanded, his eyes held the same fear as the men before him. She wondered how they managed to get anything done if this is how they dealt with an intruder. Everyone in the town was probably too frightened to deal with them, which meant they could remain at the top no matter how weak they actually were behind closed doors.

“You mean the demon?” He asked, trying to act as if the situation he was in meant nothing to him, but his eyes betrayed him. Mizu’s grip on her sword tightened as she began to push it into his neck, slowly drawing blood. Surely he couldn’t have been so stupid to refer to you as a demon while he had someone with blue eyes staring right at him, threatening to take his life if he said too much of the wrong thing.

“Okay, Okay! She’s downstairs, in the basement, there are a bunch of barrels stacked up on top of the hatch we use to get to her.” He exclaimed, finally giving her the information she needed. She quickly slit his throat and left the room, searching every room that she could find on the bottom floor, looking for the barrels. Once she had found them, she frantically tossed them aside, luckily they seemed to be placed there more for show than anything else. She opened the hatch and made her way down below the gambling house.

The path was dark and very dingy, but she had no time to stop, she had to find you.

All she could really hear was the sound of water dripping every so often as she made her way through the hall lined with makeshift cells, most of which were empty until she saw one that had someone cowering in the corner.

The person was curled up in a ball, their head down, and the only thing that came from them was the muffled sound of sniffling.

It was you.

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rottencherrypie · 9 months ago

Text

R-18+; Yes Ma'am (Sub!Kili x Dom!Fem!Reader)

Summary - A night's rest at a tavern during your painful journey seemed like bliss, it would have been pure bliss if not for the peculiar hatred a certain young dwarf had for you. Now being forced to share a room by orders of the king, you accidentally stumble upon the hidden truth behind the young dwarf's hatred'.

Warnings - Smut, language, afab reader, female reader, harassment, violence & mention of violence (poorly written), implied she-elf fancying you (brief), yelling, sub!kili, dom!reader, female genitalia, male genitalia, masturbation (male), pet names (mainly for kili), calling kili a good boy (a lot), reader being called ma'am (a lot), praise kink (male), degrading (male), oral (female receiving & poorly written), slapping, hair pulling, unprotected sex, bodily fluids, creampie.

Pronouns & POV - She/her, third-person-ish

Word Count - 8,800+

A/N - One of the few smuts I vividly remember...we are all whores here, ain't we?

Read on AO3 Read on Wattpad

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

The long journey towards the lonely mountain was a treacherous and painful one. The sore limbs, endless amounts of scrapes and bruises, and sleepless nights were almost nothing compared to the peculiar hatred from the youngest dwarf within the company.

A hatred you had not understood, possibly insulting him by the lack of understanding of his culture yet you had still seen it as an unfair hatred. Though it was well-known dwarves were rather secretive when it came to their language, cultures, and customs, many within your group had taught you what to avoid for the sake of avoiding an unneeded fight.

Nothing they had spoken of had come to mind as you reflected upon your short interactions with the brunette dwarf, you had even avoided joining in on their jokes when it came to his beard and came to his aid countless times yet he would simply turn his back on you in disgust before returning to his post beside his brother. Stupid dwarf.

The bubbling anger within your stomach quickly subsided as the leader of your journey announced all would be stopping in a tavern for the night, finally a good night's rest. Though the oddly sticky rooms and the scent of smoke were not what you had envisioned when it came to a proper room, far too spoiled by the elves of Rivendell during your short stay, yet it was pure bliss compared to the harsh grounds you often slept upon.

The cheers and discussions of sharing a room quickly died down as another announcement boomed out, "To save on our resources, I will be pairing you up with another for the night." A wave of disappointed groans followed their king's announcement, groans he ignored as he began listing off names.

The pairings which appeared more reasonable than the last, pairs of dwarves receiving their shared key before rushing off to receive their fix of ale. Only four members of the company standing without their shared keys, Fili, Kili, Bilbo, and yourself.

All wordlessly agreeing that Fili and Kili would have a room, they were brothers after all, and the hobbit and yourself would share one, both being quiet and ready to rest without the onslaught of snores from the rowdy dwarves.

"And finally, Fili, you will be with Bilbo." The elder dwarf announced, the calloused palms thrusting a rusty key in Bilbo's direction. "Y/N, you will be with Kili. Do not disappoint me." The sternness in his tone sending a cold shiver down your spine, all four mouths agape as he thrust the second key into his nephew's grasp.

"You cannot be serious, Thorin!" The youngest dwarf whined, his amber eyes refusing to even gaze in your direction. "Oh, I am. We are here to rest not be bothered with your jokes, you two have proven you cannot be trusted unsupervised." "This is unreasonable! Cruel!" The youngest dwarf continued to whine as the faint thump of his uncle's boots rang out through the rowdy tavern, the faint tap of his following shortly.

"Ignore him, Y/N, he is simply stressed from the journey." The golden-haired dwarf smiled as he clasped a calloused palm around your shoulder, his lip curling upwards in a friendly smile. "And if he is too difficult to handle, you are more than welcome to sprawl out your bedroll in our chambers." The offer lightly soothing your annoyed heart, at least one son of Dis was kind towards you.

"Thank you, Fili. Though I would prefer not to disrupt your or Bilbo's rest." "Oh, nonsense!" The hobbit announced while a wide smile spread upon his lips as his soft palm clasped on your opposite shoulder. "It would be a pleasure to have you visit even if it is for a mere cup of tea before returning to your chambers." The kind words momentarily distracted you from the young prince's hatred, the once sturdy weight upon your shoulders being lifted away by their gentle grasp upon them.

"I appreciate that offer, I just wish I knew what I have done to offend him." A soft sigh escaping your lips as their sturdy hands eased from your shoulder, the pair staring at one another before momentarily opening their mouths and shutting them. "I am sure it is nothing that cannot be resolved with some well-deserved rest, now off you go." The golden-haired dwarf began gently nudging you in the direction which his brother ran off to, either desiring to get some rest of his own before too late or simply wanting the discussion of his troublesome brother to end.

The slight thumps of your booted feet on the oddly sticky tavern floor were heavily masked by the cheering of ale-fueled patrons and clicking of their mugs against one another, your eyes darting from one patron to another as you looked for that small thorn in your side you called a dwarf. Had he gone to your shared chambers already? Thoughts wiped away as the sight of the dwarf cheering with his other company caught your jewel-colored eyes, and though you despised it, a sigh of relief left your slightly chapped lips.

You were certain if he had gone into your chambers he would have locked you out forcing you to fend for yourself out in the cold. His brother or that sweet hobbit would most likely come to your aid if that thought were to come to fruition yet all you wanted was some moments of peace by yourself before another pathetic battle with him.

"There you are, lass! Come have a drink with us!" The gruff warrior's voice boomed throughout the tavern, the once serious tone he held had surprisingly turned into a joy-filled one as he took another swig of ale from the pint in front of him. Ale running down all of the dwarves' beards except for one, his chin lightly stained with ale as his honey-colored eyes threw daggers into your form, his nose scrunching up in disgust as he murmured something to the hatted dwarf beside him that you couldn't quite catch.

"Thank you, Master Dwalin," The title the wise wizard used fell out of your lips in more of a tease aware of how much he despised you calling him such. "however, I am afraid I came to retrieve the key to my chambers so I may rest. Sadly ensuring none of you die by your own hands is more tiring than fighting any orc we've come across." The wide smile that had spread upon your lips never leaving them despite the onslaught of distressed yelps from your friends and the burning gaze from the one you did not know to call friend or foe.

Before any further conversation could ensue a strange male began to approach the table, you quickly moved aside thinking it was a tender coming to see if they needed more for their fill of ale but instead, they moved along with you. "Hello there." His attempt at singing the words came off as an oddly pitched slur, all eyes from the table quickly shifting their joyous gaze on the ale within their grasp to the stranger who had approached you.

"Erm, hello?" You uttered, an eyebrow-raising in his direction before turning your attention back towards the grumpy brunette. "As I was saying, I would appreciate that key now." Your eyes silently pleading with him to save you from this drunk. "Ooh a key, ey? I have a key for you right here." The delirious drunk motioning his lower regions, though you were facing away from him you knew this by the displeased and disgusted looks which spread upon your friends' faces.

"I am not interested in the tiny padlock key you own." The blandness in your tone and the mocking of his size surely gave no other interpretation in your mind, you did not want him and would never entertain such a thought. "Oh come on, baby. You've had too many dwarves in you, let me show you what a real man can do." The sudden pressure of his thin arms wrapping around your upper waist forced your lips to press into a thin line, a harsh exhale escaping your nostrils while your friends sprang onto their feet.

The sudden low pitched slap of your balled fist connecting to his nose echoed rang throughout the ravenous bar, the pressure of his slimy arms around your waist quickly easing as he stumbled back with a hand clasped tightly around his bloodied nose. "You fucking bitch-" The words dying in his mouth the moment you booted foot came into heavy contact with his groin, a loud groan falling from his ale-drenched mouth. "Listen here and listen good," You began grasping tightly at his greasy hair, low whimpers of pain falling out of him.

"I am not your baby. I do not want that pathetic excuse of a dick within five steps of me nor do I want it near any other women within this tavern." You continued yanking up his hair forcing a loud yelp out of his mouth while your friends simply stood their mouths agape at your sudden outburst, many later on blaming it all on the stress of your travels.

"If I find out you did this to another woman I will personally take you outside and make sure you will never bear an offspring, got it?" The hiss booming throughout the tavern, his head forced back at another tug of his hair as he attempted to nod through the stinging pain. "I'm sorry? I didn't hear you!" "Yes ma'am! I'm sorry!" The suddenly sobered male stuttered out, the pain of his injuries and the embarrassment of his degradation amongst fellow patrons enough to discourage further actions from continuing for that night.

"Good, now get out of my sight." The drunken male quickly scrambled to his feet after a rough shove from you, a sigh of relief finally escaping your lungs as you turned your attention back onto your friends. "Now that, that is handled. May I have the key...please?" The sight of your lightly blood-stained hand extending towards him was enough to snap him out of his dreamlike daze, though he had seen you fight numerous times he always managed to find himself captivated by your strength.

"Oh, erm, right!" The faint pat of his calloused hands against his clothes was followed by the clearing of his throat caught your ear, an attempt to scare away the blush that threatened to creep upon his cheeks. "Here." The cold metal quickly being concealed by your warm palm as you snatched it from his grasp, the tension in your shoulder quickly easing away at the sensation. "Thank you! I'm off to wash up, do not disrupt me." "Yes ma'am." The soft mutter barely caught your ear as the dwarven prince returned to his seat, an onslaught of teasing ensuing from the table as you strolled down the long hallway to your chambers.

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The plush towels gently embraced your bruised skin, a sensation you had yearned to feel again after all those cold sleepless nights on your journey so far. The lids of your eyes shutting softly while you soaked in your moment of bliss, the warmth of your bath's water still fresh on your skin along with the delicate floral scent of the tavern's oils, a scent vastly different than any troll or orc sweat you had gotten on you during battle.

The moment of bliss cut short by the loud pounding against the wooden door, a displeased groan escaping your lips as you mindlessly wandered towards the door. "Hold on a moment! I said hold on!" The pounding against the wood coming to an end as the door creaked open, the sight of your door's foe causing another groan to slip out of your plump lips. "I thought I told you not to disrupt me, Kili." The words coming out as a whine as you turned your attention away from the grumpy dwarf, slowly strolling towards the side of the bed you had assigned to yourself as you payed no mind to your lack of clothing.

The annoyance which flooded the dwarf's body quickly subsided at the glorious sight of you in nothing but a towel, the heat quickly rising towards his cheeks yet again as the cloth which restrained his cock suddenly grew tighter. "Come on then, spit it out already." The commanding tone that slipped through those soft lips of yours forced the fire beneath his skin to burn brighter.

"Oh! Well, erm, uncle wanted to know if you would be joining them for supper. There's a plate set aside for you...if you wish to join that is." His voice began to crack at the end while he quickly averted his gaze from your heavenly form, an image he would forever have ingrained into his mind.

A soft hum making its way out of your mouth as you sprawled out on the soft bed, your weight slowly sinking into the soft furs. Food, a thought that had slipped out of your mind during your hot bath. The low grumble within your belly showing that an actual meal compared to the odd scraps you had found throughout your journey would be greatly appreciated. "Let them know I will join them in a moment." "I was planning on staying in here...I have eaten already." Your gaze shifting from the tall wooden walls over to the prince, his smoky ones occasionally greeted yours before darting back onto the grimy floors. So much for his hatred being merely stress.

"That is fine, there is still hot water in the tub if you wish to bathe." A small creak escaped the mattress as your weight shifted upwards on the bed, the plush towel slowly beginning to slide down your upper chest. "The oils are on the second shelf and I will be bringing the key with me so you may rest." Though he despised you, you were still civil towards him for the sake of your friends and the shared goal to help them reclaim their home.

"That sounds fair." The mutters barely caught your ear as you allowed the towel to continue its trail down your oiled body as you strolled across the room, he had seen much worse on his journey so this would surely not phase the stubborn prince. "I will do my best to be quiet on my return, do not mess with my things while I am away." You scolded as you began to bend towards the small pile of clothes, the dwarven prince's gaze lifting upon your nude form in both the worst and best timing within his mind.

Every curve and imperfection on full display for him to take in, perfection. Pure utter perfection is what he saw you as, his hardened act towards you merely being one to avoid the hardening within his trousers which was always a failed attempt. Your kindness and charm were far too alluring to make him stay away and yet your abilities on and off the battlefield were enough to instill fear and curiosity within him.

He dreamt of nothing more than praising every inch of your heavenly body, kissing over each scar and bruise your soft skin held, and making you cry pleasure-filled moans with him in between your strong legs. The fabric which tightened underneath his dirtied trousers went unnoticed to him but not to you, your gaze shifting from your assortment of clothing you wore onto the young dwarf, finding it rather odd he had gone quiet so quickly on you until you caught his displeased gaze on your nude figure.

Though you had not wished for him to eye you as if you were a leg of meat similar to which the drunk had done an hour prior, you had not expected such a displeased look from him nor did you expect for it to sting within your chest as much as it did.

"It is rather rude to stare, is it not?" Your low tone startling the brunette out of his lust-driven thoughts, the subtle heat of his blush growing to overtake the paleness of his face. His mouth opened and closed quickly as if he were a fish fresh out of water before his gaze darted away from heavenly form, your jewel-colored orbs quickly looping around your skull while you pulled the scratchy fabric onto your softly oiled skin.

"I will be back soon, do not burn anything down while I am away." "This again? It was an accident, I was a dwarfling!" The dwarf's annoyed muttering barely catching your ear while you strolled towards the door, hands gliding across your clothing ensuring every inch of once revealed flesh was no longer on display. "I believed you of all people would know one time is far too many when it comes to fire, now be good." The low clicks of your booted heels rang throughout the silent room, the low muffle of cheers and glasses clinking together filling your ears as you furthered your trail down the dimly lit hall.

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The quiet thumps of your boots against the creaky oak floor began to fill the halls again as you strolled back to your chambers, your once empty belly now full of all the ale and food your heart's or rather stomach's desired.

Content hums echoing off of the walls of which your friends resigned in, many leaving before your meal was done to get as much rest as possible, an action you could not blame them for due to the unpleasant sleeping conditions they had endured for far too long.

The heavenly food and gentle conversation had nearly allowed you to forget of the bitter dwarf who stayed behind and though his lack of presence had not bothered you personally, you finding the meal more blissful without his cruel gaze burning holes into you, yet the way his brother's goofy smile faded into a saddened line plucked at the strings within your heart.

"Stupid dwarf." The thought of his kicked puppy look upon his face had reignited the subtle flame within your belly to a full-blown blaze. If that stubborn brunette dwarf truly hated you that was fine, you were merely staying for the friends you had made throughout the journey rather than any payment they could offer, yet it bewildered you he could go so far as to promise his brother of his return and purposefully break it in the sake of avoiding you.

Your annoyed thoughts coming to a halt while you inched closer to the massive doors, a loud sigh escaping your lips as you pulled the metal key out of your back pocket. So much for a peaceful evening.

The quiet creak of the wooden door filled the empty room, that's odd. That stubborn dwarf had surely been in here before you had left, the memories of his displeased gaze upon your nude form still freshly burnt into your mind. As if he would look any better than you after the drastic changes your body had dealt with in mere months, an annoyed sigh escaped your lips while you made your way towards the bed.

A silk slip still nicely folded upon the fluffy pillows, at least he had not messed with your things. Your soft hands embracing the smooth material, your thumbs grazing over the smallest lace detailing whilst you admired your gift. A gift from a she-elf in Rivendell, she must have felt rather badly about your conditions due to the way her face grew red as she handed you the soft fabric in front of your friends, the kindness not going forgotten as you kept the silk dress within your possession throughout your journey despite the few attempts to destroy it by that stubborn dwarf.

Once your clothing was entirely shed from your floral-scented skin, you made haste in slipping that soothing silk over your bare form. The thin straps on your shoulders and the shortened length of the slip left little to the imagination, the slip hugging in all the perfect areas as if it were made for only you.

The momentary bliss being cut short at a peculiar noise that arose from the bathing room, curiosity getting the better of you as your limbs began to move at their own accord, quietly inching closer to the oak door. The soft sound of splashing accompanied with the melody of soft moans and whines dancing within your ears as you inched closer to the door, the blood beneath your skin boiling as you could not help but listen to the same dwarf who mocked you daily's pathetic little melody.

"A-Ah! Y/N, please!" The desperate higher-pitched whimper stalling your heart, was he pleasuring himself to the thought of you? Your inner thighs glistening with slick wetness as you pressed your ear against the wooden door, the muffled whimpers and pleads which accompanied your name all too alluring yet infuriating to you.

His head drooped back against the metal tub, eyelids glued shut as his mouth hung open in pleasure. Images of you tugging at that male's hair and your nude form replaying in his mind as the knot within his belly tightened, the cool water clinging onto his skin along with the faint sheen of sweat that glistened upon his forehead and hardened muscles.

"A-Ah! Oh, fuck!" The pathetic whimpering signaling he was on the verge of his release sparked something deep within you, how dare he be so cruel only to cum at the thought of you. The creak of the heavy oak door swinging open was silenced by his loud moans, his mind swarming with images of you bouncing upon his cock and pulling his hair as if he were the man from earlier.

"You treat me as if I am lower than waste, attempt to destroy my personal belongings, disrupt my peace, and yet you have the nerve to pleasure yourself to me?!" The angry scoff stalling all motion in his body, his eyes growing as wide as the plate you ate upon moments before while he attempted to jump up from the tub, watering rolling down his toned abs simultaneously as heat spread across his face.

"I-well you see-I just, erm." "I do not want to hear your pathetic excuses, gods you are insufferable!" The heavy slap of your bare feet against the cold floor echoing within his ears, that damned shocked look fueling more rage within you. "Please let me explain I- '' The snap of your hardened gaze forcing his mouth to dry out as both fear and lust roamed throughout his veins, the remaining water droplets trickling down his scar-tattered form before dampening the floor beneath him.

"You what?" You snarled back, face burning red with rage as his face matched with a similar flush fueled by embarrassment. "What is there to explain that I haven't seen already?" A displeased laugh slipped through your plump lips, arms crossing in front of your chest while your eyes looped around your skull. "That you are cruel to me so you may have material to stroke that pathetic cock off to?" Your gaze burning holes into his muscular form, each inch of flesh looked as if the gods had hand-carved him.

"What? No that's not it at all!" He blurted out quickly, trying to inch closer to you as the rouge flush on his cheeks began to spread throughout the entirety of his face. "I just-" He groaned, halting his words as his fingers roamed through his hair, an action he mindlessly did frequently due to stress.

"I began having these thoughts after we met, I thought putting distance between us would stop them but they never ceased from my mind." "That gives you no right to be insufferable towards me and proceed to turn around and stroke that pathetic cock of yours whilst moaning my name." A bitter laugh slipping through your lips while your head shook in disbelief at his pathetic excuse.

"Tell me, was I down on my knees before you with that little cock in my mouth, or was I bouncing on it like one of those tavern whores?" His mouth opened and closed quickly at your bold question as if you had not caught him pleasuring himself to you mere moments before, the pounding beneath his skull and within his cock speeding up.

"Well? Come on now, speak up, whore." "Bouncing on it." He muttered under his breath, silently hoping the words would fall silent upon your ears, the lewd images still playing freshly throughout his mind as his cock flexed against his lower abdomen.

"Oh? So that's how you see me, is it? A tavern whore who will bounce on your little cock until you fill her up with your cum." His answer alone would have simply annoyed you but the way his cock twitched as he responded made your burn hot.

"And here I thought your brother was right, that all your idiotic actions were due to stress. I cannot wait to tell him how perverted his younger brother truly is." "Please do not tell anyone about this! They'll never let me live this down!" His voice rising in pitch with his panicked pleads, his hands clasped tightly in front of his chest while he stared at you in fear.

"Oh? And why shouldn't I, my dear prince?" Your plump lips curling upwards into a mischievous smirk. "I promise this will never happen again!" The sight of your eyes looping around in your skull made his heart drop to the pit of his stomach.

"I will do anything you want! I swear I will, please just do not tell anyone about this." The pathetic pleads of the prince made the mischievous smirk upon your face grow wider, a single finger tapping on your plump lips whilst you pretended to be in deep thought.

"Anything at all?" You questioned, an eyebrow quirking in his direction as you slowly strolled over to his bed, hips swaying slowly with each step you took. "Yes, anything! Anything you want, you name it and I will do it!" The smirk still plastered widely upon your face as you sat down on the soft mattress, the mattress creaking softly under your weight.

"What if I want you?" "Oh?" The panic in his veins was quickly replaced with relief and lust as he drank in your heavenly form, his lips curving into an equally mischievous smirk as he began to inch towards you.

"Ah, ah, ah." You tutted, the clicking of your tongue stalling his steps allowing him to admire your very being from afar whilst you spread your legs open, glistening pussy on display for the desperate dwarf. "If you want even a small taste, you will get on your hands and knees and crawl for it." "What?" The word barely coming out of his stunned mouth, the glint in your eye darkening as you rose from the bed, an annoyed sigh escaping your lips at the loss of comfort.

"I said, get on your fucking hands and knees and crawl like the little bitch you are." Your snarl accompanied by the low swoosh of your silk slip falling onto the floor. "If you truly want to fuck me, you are going to work for it. Now crawl, slut." On your command he knelt onto the cold wooden floor, his weight resting within his dampened palms as he slowly made his way towards you. His amber eyes burning holes into your heavenly frame, a pleased smile spread wide upon your lips as he sat down a few inches in front of your feet.

"That's a good boy." You cooed while resting your hand beneath his chin, his lightly stubbled chin resting on your balled-up fingers as your thumb gently grazed over his rough lips. "And that's all you want to be, isn't it? My good boy?" "Yes ma'am, I want to be your good boy so badly. Please let me please you." The tune of his pathetic mewls against your thumb allowed laughter to bubble out of your lips, you had a future prince of Erebor kneeling before you desperate to please you like the little whore he is.

"Aw, you sound so cute when you beg." You cooed, the mattress creaking yet again as you sat down upon it, the brunette dwarf following close behind now sitting directly in front of your feet. His smoky eyes blinked mindlessly up at you, watching as you began to spread your thighs apart.

"I am feeling rather generous at the moment. If you can make me cum with your mouth, and I mean only your mouth, I'll ride that pathetic cock of yours." The words barely left your mouth as the eager prince made his way in between your thighs, your legs dangling over his shoulders as his calloused hands grasped tightly around your thighs.

"Someone is eager-oh fuck!" The eager prince wasted no time as his warm tongue quickly lapped at your soaking cunt, his long licks up towards your clit sending small electric waves throughout your body. "Mmm, that's a good boy." The soft wet sensation of his tongue lapping up and down from your clit slowing in speed as the lids of his amber eyes fluttered shut, soft moans of his own vibrated against your dripping cunt.

The prickle of his stubble against your sensitive flesh furthering the waves of pleasure throughout your body, the motions of his tongue turning from lapping the entirety of your drenched pussy towards tracing delicate circles around your clit. "Just like that, don't you dare stop." Your words grew higher in pitch as your hands grasped tightly around the soft fur beneath you, legs beginning to tremble as a familiar knot began to weave within you.

His lips enveloping your sensitive bundle of nerves, switching from tracing small circles around it to sucking upon it making your toes curl as heat spread throughout your body. "Oh, holy shit!" The higher-pitched moan ringing throughout his ears as the dwarf continued toying with your clit, the soft pinch of his nails embedding into your thighs further tightening the knot within your belly.

Your hips rising and falling against the patterns of his tongue as your hands entangled within his damp brunette hair, the pinch of your nails against his scalp, and the tug at each silky lock forcing moans from his wet lips. The heavenly vibrations against your soaking cunt allowed your moans to grow louder, all care for your fellow guests thrown aside as the handsome dwarf continued to work eagerly in between your thighs.

The pressure against the sensitive bundle of nerves tightening against it while you mindlessly rolled your hips into his mouth, your nails digging into his skull as your toes began to curl. "Oh, gods yes! Shit don't stop!" The knot within your stomach finally snapping as you tugged tighter at his hair, the acting forcing him to moan against your clit furthering the electric waves that rang throughout your body.

The speed of your chest rising and falling quickened as you attempted to catch your breath, legs still trembling at the aftershock while your fingers loosened around his hair. A blissful smile spread upon your lips as you gazed down at the smiling dwarf, his dampened hair now tangled and clinging onto his face as a lopsided smile spread upon his thin lips.

"You were such a good boy." You cooed as you finally caught your breath, the cold air feeling like heaven within your lungs. "I think it is time for your reward, don't you?" The honey-colored eyes widened with glee, his grip around your thighs releasing as he leaped onto his feet. "Excited, are we?" "Yes ma'am." He grinned at you, the bed creaking at the new weight, his gaze never leaving your form.

Sweat still glistening on your heavenly form, the soft moonlight reflecting off it and each curve and imperfection it held. A pure goddess, one who was gifting him with moments in heaven for worshiping you. "Now, you still cannot touch me." The words making him whine as you raised from the bed, after your angelic moans all he craved for was to touch you, to please you like the good boy he is.

"Don't whine, you are lucky I am even considering this yet alone acting upon it." A chuckle escaping your plump lips as his bottom lip stuck out in a pout, your soft hands gently gliding up his toned body as you climbed on top of him, the tips of your fingers dancing upon the indentations of his muscles and scars. "Now, be a good boy and stay still for me." A soft whimper escaped his thin lips as your soft palm wrapped around his throbbing cock, lining the swollen tip up to your drenched entrance as you stared into his amber eyes.

"Fuck!" The slight pressure and burning stretch of his aching cock finally sliding within your soaked walls forced a moan out of the both of you, his hips mindlessly bucking up into yours at the sensation which you stilled with a palm on his chest. "I said stay still." The pathetic excuse of an apology that slipped through his lips was accompanied by a string of excuses in a high-pitched whine, his knuckles turning white as his fingers dug into the furs beneath him.

"I thought you wanted to be a good boy for me." You scoffed, your hips raising ever so slowly off of his allowing your tight cunt to clench around his throbbing cock. "I do, ma'am. I want to be your good boy." He whined as the lids of his eyes squeezed shut, throwing his head back against the mattress as his grip tightened further around the soft furs. "Good boys don't make excuses, do they?" You snarled, your hips slapping against his making him jolt upwards at the sudden embrace of his cock.

"They don't, I am so sorry ma'am." "Apologies mean nothing now, you have shown that you cannot control yourself and now I must punish you." The exaggerated sigh you let out was quickly accompanied by the tsking sound of your tongue, the nervous prince swallowing down a mouth full of air as the bed creaked under your shift towards his ear.

"You are going to lie still like the good little fuck toy I know you can be. You will do nothing other than moan unless instructed to, this includes touching and looking at me. Understood?" His mouth shooting open desperate to show he was listening but before any words could slip through your palm covered his mouth, the lids of his eyes twitched threatening to open only to squeeze close tighter at your disapproving tuts.

"I didn't say to speak, did I?" His damp hair tapped against your hand as he quickly shook his head no. "That's right, my little fuck toy can be so smart when he wants to be." Cooing as you lift your hips away from his, soft whimpers vibrated against your palm as you slid back down onto his aching cock. The heavenly stretch of his enlarged cock carving itself into your damped walls made soft hums slip through your lips, more intrigued by the moans your toy made while your cunt clenched around the throbbing mass than the volume of your own.

The silent room quickly filled with the pathetic mewls of your toy along with the squelching slap of skin against each other, the creak of the rickety bed completely masked as you leaned back onto his aching cock. His knuckles turned bright whine as his nails embedding themselves into the furs, his heavenly form glistening with sweat while you continued your slow speed.

"You're being so good for me, letting me use your cock however I want." Taking the entirety of his length within your drenched walls, you slowly rolled your hips in small circles, the swollen tip of his cock hitting the most sensitive parts of your core with each movement you made.

"Mmm, you want me to go faster? To bounce on your cock like in your fantasies?" You hummed as you began to slowly raise your hips to the aching tip, rocking your hips in tiny circles at the top as he quickly bobbed his head.

The lids of his eyes still glued to one another tightly as he clenched every muscle within him, desperate to be good, desperate to please you. "Oh, well that's too bad." The displeased look that scrunched upon his face making you laugh with each word you spoke, your hips lowering back onto his making him whine louder. "Oh shut up, you are lucky I have this pathetic excuse of a cock in me." His cock twitching within your core at your degrading tone.

"Aww, someone likes being made fun of. Doesn't he?" A mischievous smirk spreading upon your lips at the prince's desperate nodding, his throbbing cock twitching again within your as your walls tightened around him before releasing.

"I want everyone in this tavern to know how much you love being degraded by me." His muscles restricting at the thought, torn between being good for you and of the onslaught of embarrassment he would face if he did as told.

"I love being degraded by you, ma'am." The mutter barely catching your ear, your eyes looping around your skull at his worthless excuse of an attempt. The flesh beneath his cheeks burned hotter than any tales of dragon's breath he had heard, the harsh crimson spreading to the tips of his ears.

"Louder, pet. I know how loud you can be, out with it!" The stinging impact of your palm against his cheek accompanied by your commands pushed him over the edge of complete submission for you, his mouth flying open with a string of 'yes ma'am's before his loud decree.

"I loved being degraded by you, ma'am. I love it so much, Y/N. Please don't stop, please. I need to know how pathetic I am." The pathetic pitch of his pleads sounded heavenly compared to the off-pitched songs your company would attempt to perform. "There it is, there's my good pet." You cooed, a loud gasp escaping his chapped lips as the slapping of your hips fastened.

The heavenly sensation of your cunt squeezing around the thick cock as you slid up ever so slightly from him made his moan grow louder, your hips rocking against his as you rested upon the base allowing his cock to carve further into your drenched depths. "I haven't heard a thank you yet, what do you say slut?" A high-pitched whine replaced any attempts of words as he loosened the grip on the furs while you continued to grind against your hips into him.

"Thank you, ma'am." The sudden grasp at your breasts forcing you to stall your movements, a honey-colored eye opening at the lack of movement. "Oh, you think you get to be handsy and stare at me now? And here I thought you were going to be a good little slut for me." The soft slap against his wrists accompanied your displeased scoff, leaning forwards pinning them above his head.

The lids of his eyes flying open at the sudden movement, a soft mewl escaping his lips as his cock stirred within you. "I am so sorry, ma'am. But I just-" The words were cut short by a thwack which rang throughout the room, his wrists encased by your soft palm as the other firmly struck his cheek.

"No buts, now you're going to make me cum by your tongue again and if I catch you looking at me you will not be allowed to touch yourself for an entire week." The loss of your warmth embracing him made him whine as you shifted up from his lap towards his face, wet cunt inches away from his lips.

"You may hold my hips and only my hips, anything else and I will leave this room." The empty threat dying upon your tongue as his tongue slipped within your warm damp walls, small circles and tuts of his tongue earning pleased hums from you.

The grip upon his slender wrists released at the new flicking sensation within you, your hips rolling in slow circles allowing his tongue to graze the most sensitive spots within you. "Oh fuck yes! Right there!" His tongue flicking against the most sensitive spot in your core, hitting it repetitively as a knot began to form within your belly yet again.

Your eyes looping towards the back of your skull as small static waves pulsated throughout your body, your upper teeth sinking into your plump lower lip to stifle your moans, the sensation of the tips of fingers delicately gliding up towards your lips sending a shiver down your spine.

"If you keep being a good whore like this I'll consider letting you fuck me." A loud whine escaping your lips as the flicks grew closer together, his nails piercing into the flesh of your hips as he hummed against your cunt happily. Each vibration sent tiny electric waves throughout your core as his tongue stroked that heavenly spot, each movement pushing you further into the edge of bliss.

"Yes, yes, yes. Holy fuck, don't you dare fucking stop!" The muscles throughout your body trembling as you tangled your fingers within his hair, tugging it to guide him back to that heavenly spot over and over again as you hunched over his face. The prickly stubble against your bare cunt further fueled the burning fire within you, the knot within your belly tightening on the verge of snapping with each fast click of his tongue.

"Ah!" Your screams echoing throughout the tavern as the knot within your stomach finally snapped, his calloused palms were the only thing preventing you from collapsing on top of him, your thighs tightening around the sides of his face as your inner walls fluttered around his tongue. The rising and falling of your chest quickened, cold air catching in the back of your throat as you freed his damp hair from your harsh grip.

"How are you so good at that?" Letting out an airy chuckle while sliding off of his face, the lids of his eyes still glued together tightly as his lips pursed out in a pout at the sudden lack of weight. "You may look at me and speak on your own accords. I hate to admit it but I do miss that smart mouth of yours." His eyes quickly opened as a lopsided grin spread upon his lips, the bed creaking while he shifted his weight onto his elbows, his dreamlike gaze burning holes into your barest form.

"I think you have proved that you can listen and I have done all the work here. Haven't I, pet?" The sight of his brunette mop bouncing quickly at the nodding of his head allowed a soft smile to grace your lips. "I know, I work so hard but now it's your turn." The soft prickle of his stubble on his cheek graced your palm as you purred, his eyes widening at your words as his heart stilled hoping this was not but another tease.

"Well? Come on now, hurry up before I change my mind." The moment your scold caught his ears the dwarven prince leaped out of the bend and onto the cold floor, quickly making his way between your thighs as his hands hovered above them. Though he was allowed to speak and look he still waited for your permission to touch, his smoky eyes staring back into yours while he waited patiently for an answer to his unspoken question, such a well-trained bitch.

"You may touch." His calloused palms made haste wrapping your thighs around his waist, a hand going between his muscular legs to line himself up with your soaked entrance. The graze of his swollen tip against your core sent a soft hum through your lips, still sensitive due to the pleasure you had received from him moments before.

"Ah!" The soft whine slipping through his lips as he pushed his aching cock into you, the familiar stretch and pressure earning a pleased hum from you. "That's a good boy." You cooed, a finger curling in front of his gaze motioning for him to lean forwards which he did so without question. A pleased exhale slipping out as he inched his face closer to yours, your gentle palm rested upon his opposite cheek while your soft lips finally graced his.

The slow speed of his throbbing cock carving its way into your heavenly cunt accompanied by the soft melding of your lips sent a spark of pleasure throughout his bruised body, all stress and worries gliding off of his toned shoulders while his hips slapped against your arse. "Fuck." The soft whine against your lips accompanied pleased moans which slipped through yours, a heavenly melody that further sent blood to flow within his aching cock.

His hips stilled as the squeezing sensation around his cunt ingrained within his memory, the sight of you under him with your mouth opened slightly in an 'o' making the memory all the more pleasurable, one he would later reflect on during nights he could not sleep without the ease of his aching cock. Taking in a steady breath, hands tightening around your thighs while he slowly slid his cock out, whimpering in disappointment at his actions before sliding back within the warm depths.

"That's it, love. Let it all out." You cooed as your thumb caressed his softly stubbled cheeks, the steady pace of his cock carving within you stalling at the sudden use of a sweet name as he melted into your gentle touch. "You can move, pet. You have held yourself back for long enough, you may relax but you mustn't cum until I say so." A renewed energy spread throughout his body, his head bobbing quickly with excitement.

A squeak flying out of your lips at the sudden harshness of his hips ramming into yours, your sensitive walls fluttering around him while he further carved himself within you. Each thrust turned sloppier as he fell into the darkness of his lust, pathetic whimpers slipping through his lips as he buried his face within the corner of your neck.

"I know, it feels so good. Doesn't it?" The tickle of his scruff against your neck, a burn rising in his hips far earlier than he had hoped for wanting nothing more than to be fully immersed in the pleasurable moment. Memories of you catching him in the tub flooding his mind while his cock twitched yet again within you, pounding faster into your core as the familiar knot began to tie within him.

Each milking squeeze of his cock becoming all too painful, his knuckles turning white around your thighs while he whimpered against your neck. "I can't." The softness of your hands gliding up and down his scar-tattered back making him tremble within you, soft whines escaping his lips as he tried to stop the knot from further hitching within him.

"Oh but you can, my love. I want you to let it all out, that is an order." Your soft coos encouraged the speed of his aching hips, the knot within him tightening each painful moment that passed. His animalistic thrusts growing more sloppy as his eyes squeezed shut, his head tilted backward into your line of sight allowing you to see how beautiful and pathetic he looked.

Thin mouth agape with a string of pathetic mewls slipping out of them, the thin sheen on his forehead which strands of hair would cling onto, and the overwhelming beauty of his entire being relaxed in his most blissful state. A sight which would be forever burned into your memories and force heat to rise within your cheeks whenever you gazed upon the idiotic dwarf, your idiotic dwarf.

"Oh fuck! Please, ma'am. I am so close, I can't. Please." His hips stuttering with each sloppy thrust he made, your walls fluttering and squeezing against the aching cock. "Aww, does my good little whore want to fill up my pussy?" You cooed softly gliding a hand from his back onto his prickly cheek. The thin pair of lips quivering with every whimper which left them, the side of his face nuzzling against your palm yet again as his pleading honey-colored eyes bore into your jewel-colored pair.

"Do it, cum for me." The soft command was the final tug to tear the knot within him into two, his eyes rolling up into his skull as he trembled against you unintentionally dragging you off the same cliff with his high-pitched whines.

The sensation of your inner walls pulsating around him further encouraged him to release the burning white ribbons within your soaked cunt, his pathetic gasps and whines echoed throughout the tavern for all to hear. Your nails gliding down both his upper back and his stubbled cheek, a mark showing he was yours if the loud whines had not given it away already.

"Fuck! Thank you." The syllables clinging onto his lips while he leaned down onto you, his head resting on top of your breasts as you both rode down from your shared highs. Hazy smiles staring at one another as each grip released, his swollen cock still resting deep within you keeping your inner walls painted white.

"I'm sorry...about earlier." The tips of his fingers delicately tracing each scar that rested upon your skin, all attitude from him melted away while your sturdy arms wrapped around his upper back. "I forgave you the first time you made me cum." The admission forced a fake gasp from the prince's lips, your lips pressing together tightly to stifle bubbling laughter within you.

"You liar! I thought you were infuriated with me." His bottom lip sticking out in a dramatic pout as he rose away slightly from your chest, and despite your best attempts, soft laughter escaped your lips. "I was at first, you had been cruel to me for months." The sternness in your tone forced him to gulp down a mouth of air, guilt trickling into his veins at his past actions towards you out of his stupidity.

"However, I cannot be mad at such an adorable excuse." "Then what were the punishments for!" The prince scoffed at your words as a familiar crimson tint spread upon his face. "They were meant to teach you a lesson, which they did." The warming sensation of your lips melding into his easing some of the annoyance from the dwarven prince, the same dramatic pout still glued upon his lips as he stared at you.

"Are you alright?" The gentleness in your tone shocked him as you looked over his body, the red marks lighting a small flame of worry within you. "What do you mean?" A thick eyebrow raised in your direction while he watched your curious actions, though he had pleased women before none had taken the time to look over him after. "Are you feeling alright after...well..." The words dying off on your tongue as a similar heat flooded beneath the flesh of your cheeks as if you had not used him as a personal fuck toy moments ago.

A soft chuckle escaping his lips along with a pleased sigh as his calloused palm rested beneath your chin, his thumb tilting your head up towards him while the corners of his lips curved up into a bliss-filled smile. "I am fine, I promise. Dwarves can take quite the beating, ma'am." The title coming out in a teasing tone, an amused sigh escaping your nose as your eyes rolled around in your skull. Though his joking manner could be tedious at times, especially tender moments like these, you could not imagine the dwarf without it nor would you trade it for any gem within all of middle earth.

"If that is true, my pet, would you at least accompany me while I bathe?" The question barely escaped your lips as he pulled his softened cock out of you, the odd sensation of his cum trickling out of your cunt sending a shiver down your spine. "You will hold me after?" "Yes, my love, I will hold you after." A gleeful look spread upon the dwarf's face as he hooked his arms under your legs and back, a surprised squeak leaving your lips as he lifted you with ease.

The high-pitched complaints and concerns missed his ears as he happily strolled to the tub with you resting loosely in his arms. "Dwarves are stronger than any men, my dear." He reminded you with a goofy smile, oh how you could've seen yourself now when this all began.

In the arms of your 'foe' as bare as the day you came into the world, though even if you could you wouldn't have changed anything about it as you finally received a night of bliss out of all of those torturous nights of travel and battle, blissful nights which would continue in secret throughout your journey with your idiotic dwarf.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

#the hobbit smut #kili x reader smut #kili x y/n smut #kili x fem!reader smut #x fem!reader smut #kili x fem!reader #smut #x dom!reader smut

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writing-for-life · 23 days ago

Text

Dream’s Therapist Love: Nada

Apprehension because I decided to broach the topic of romantic relationships today, which the client seems to believe are not for him, as previously discussed.

Discomfort because I recall our last session and have a distinct feeling that the client is trying to catch me off guard somehow. He also seems to be convinced he can read my mind, which is obviously delusional.

However, he was very close on each attempt, suggesting high competence in judging emotions and intentions, which I do not see otherwise reflected in his behaviour and outlook.

All things considered, I will need to reassess after today’s session and consider supervision.

I am surprised the client is exactly on time today, and my receptionist leads him in on the dot, throwing me a likewise befuddled glance.

DT: Oh, you are on time today.

Dream (I notice snark): I am never late, am I?

DT: No, but you are usually early.

Dream: I could not fathom what to read today, so I just did not feel like… sitting around.

DT (I feel slightly confused): You come here early so you can read?

Dream: (I notice a sort of hum.)

DT: I won’t hold you back of course. Do you enjoy reading at home?

Dream (He does not reply and throws three books on my desk before he does the same to his backside and the chair. I take a glance and recognise Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye. The other two are both by Kazuo Ishiguro: The Remains of the Day and Never Let Me Go.)

DT (I take note of the general theme of these novels and wonder if I should really look deeper into his relationships, especially of a romantic kind, today. These book choices do not seem arbitrary to me. Then again, I probably shouldn’t start reading into things): These are interesting choices. Would you like to expand on why you relate to them?

Dream: Reading them does not imply relating.

DT: Don’t we read because we wish to relate? Find ourselves in characters? Understand ourselves better? Escape?

Dream (I notice the distinct stare of someone who looks at a woman with two heads): I read stories. Weave them. I am not in them.

DT: That’s not what I said though, is it? (I notice a scowl. ) But let’s entertain that thought for a moment—you could be in a story. Somewhere. In someone’s mind.

Dream (I notice an exasperated-sounding puff of air exiting his nose. He stays otherwise silent.)

DT: You told me in your first session that you struggle to commit to romantic relationships. Can you tell me why?

Dream (I was not entirely prepared for that kind of hostile glare): I do not struggle to commit.

DT: But you said…

Dream: …that I have commitment issues and that love is a quaint human invention like…

DT: … gluten-free pizza or reality TV.

Dream (His mouth hangs open for a split second. When he closes it, he simultaneously narrows his eyes): You finished my sentence.

DT: As you did mine.

Dream: Point taken.

DT: You might recall you told me you can read minds?

Dream (I notice something resembling a half-smile): Ah, but I doubt you can.

DT: No, but I am not too bad at remembering. And educated guessing.

Dream (I notice a slight sigh): Did you really think I was serious when I said love is a quaint human invention resembling… (he gestures aimlessly) tasteless food products?

DT: No. I thought it was a defence mechanism to cover up past hurt (I brace myself for the fallout.)

Dream (What I wasn’t prepared for is that his voice seems to drop half an octave and sounds like… melancholy. There is no other word for it): The truth is that I find myself troubled by… matters of the heart. Love, it seems, eludes me.

DT: Love is complicated for most people, so you’re in good company (I note a certain amount of disbelief in his expression). I am not going to force you to talk about something you don’t want to talk about, but I do think it would help to tell me about your past relationships.

Dream (He stares at my paperweight. Which makes me think that one day, I will need to ask him what’s so special about it, or what it reminds him of. But now is not that time): There was Nada, obviously. (He stops himself and looks at me through his lashes)

DT: Obviously.

Dream: I condemned her to Hell for ten thousand years because she rejected me.

DT (It’s always so hard to tell if he is in the grip of his delusion, or if he is using strange metaphors to make a point. I hesitate for a moment and then decide to give him the benefit of the doubt): That sounds... intense. How did that make you feel?

Dream (I notice his foot is tapping): How did what make me feel?

DT: The rejection.

Dream (I notice his brow is tied up in knots): You are more worried about the rejection than my condemning her to Hell?

DT: I’m not worried about anything. Just more interested in one thing than the other.

Dream: For science? (Is he actually… smiling?)

DT: For science (He is). And to support you in understanding patterns we might unearth, which in turn might help you to understand yourself (The smile disappears and is replaced with 12 minutes of silence while staring out of my window).

Dream: It made me feel… angry. Hurt. Misunderstood (He finally looks at me). Wounded with no way to stop the bleeding.

DT: And did hanging on to that anger and hurt for a long time…

Dream: Ten thousand years.

DT: …and sending her to proverbial Hell…

Dream: Not proverbial.

DT (I’m doing my best to ignore his attempts at throwing me off) …stop the wound from bleeding?

Dream: I guess not.

DT: You guess?

Dream (I notice the eye-roll): Fine. I know it did not.

DT: What did then?

Dream: I do not think it ever will… stop bleeding. I have since freed her, but the guilt remains.

DT: So you feel guilty? About what?

Dream (He sighs, but it sounds angry): Are you truly listening? I feel guilt about sending her to Hell.

DT: I am listening. You made someone’s life hell because they rejected you. It happens.

Dream: But not like this! I… never mind.

DT: I do mind.

Dream: We are talking at cross purposes.

DT: Then explain it to me in a way I can understand. Or tell me if you don’t understand what I’m asking, because that’s on me.

Dream: I am trying, but…

DT (I throw a pencil at him, and he catches it. Good reflexes.) You’re lucky it wasn’t the paperweight you tried to lift the last time.

Dream: Fine. I will explain. (He lowers his voice and looks at the pencil) Lest you continue to impress me with your psychological paperweight-pencil warfare.

DT: Not likely (I will need to get him back on track). Nada. Rejection. Hell.

Dream (He looks at me as if he is gauging something. I have no idea what): When I said I condemned Nada to Hell, I truly meant it. She pursued me. Then she rejected me. Then she did not. For a brief moment (I notice his eyes glazing over, and he seems lost. My instincts tell me he will shake his head like a wet cat in a moment, and he does not disappoint). And after her people died, she killed herself (Shit. I am beginning to think his delusions might have been brought on by trauma, rather than having genetic or biological causes. I scribble “CAPS-5” into my notes)…

DT (I am waiting since I am under the impression he isn’t done. After four minutes, I decide that I was probably wrong. Or maybe not. You sometimes cannot tell with him): I am really sorry for your loss. Do you wish to expand on how losing her made you feel?

Dream: No.

DT (Of course he doesn’t. I also think something isn’t quite adding up): How did you free her? (He just stares at me) You said she died, but you also said you have freed her.

Dream (He stops staring and looks at his hands instead): These things are not mutually exclusive.

DT: Can you elaborate?

Dream (I notice he zones in on the paperweight again): Do you believe in an afterlife?

DT: Does it matter what I believe?

Dream: Yes and no.

DT: Why yes?

Dream: Because your beliefs shape your understanding of the world, and your understanding of the world shapes your beliefs.

DT (Oh, we’re going meta): And why no?

Dream: Because your beliefs are inconsequential to me.

DT: But you are part of this world, aren’t you?

Dream (His eyes look wet. He doesn’t speak.)

DT (Let’s do this, then): No, I don’t believe in an afterlife.

Dream: You just took a risk.

DT: Which is?

Dream: Alienating me.

DT: Did I?

Dream: No. But you might not believe me when I say that I went to Hell to set her free after leaving her there for aeons, or that… (He stops himself.)

DT: I believe that’s what you believe, and I also believe that you both went through hell.

Dream (I notice a weak smile. The extremely weary kind, and it worries me): Isn’t it strange you speak in metaphors while I, for once, do not? (He pauses. For less than a minute). I trust our time is up?

DT (I feared he would say this): Not yet. If you would like to…

Dream: Very well, I shall leave then. (He gets up and takes his books off my desk.)

DT (I have a weird feeling about this and get up from my chair, too): I suggest you schedule a session for tomorrow.

Dream: I do not think that will be necessary.

DT: Then briefly check in tomorrow via phone.

Dream (He narrows his eyes): You are worried about me.

DT: I have protocols in place...

Dream (Strangely, that seems to make him smile): And of course these protocols need to be followed. I understand. About rules.

DT: Then you…

Dream (He interrupts, but he is rather soft spoken): You need not worry about my safety. (The pause feels too long once more) But I thank you. Truly. (The next one seems even longer) I shall see you tomorrow.

DT (I feel relieved but a little nagging voice at the back of my head says I cannot rely on his word alone)

Dream: You can (Is he mind-reading again?) And you should know by now I do not have a tendency to go back on my word.

DT: May I still encourage you to take this? (I hand him my out-of-hours number because I am 100% certain he would not call a crisis hotline.)

Dream (He takes it reluctantly and dips his chin): Is this also… protocol?

DT: In certain cases.

Dream: I will not require to make use of it… If this reassures you.

DT: I’d rather you take it anyway.

Dream (He stares at the card for what seems like ages and doesn’t look at me when he says): Will you… use ink to write down tomorrow’s appointment?

DT: Would you like me to?

Dream (He just nods)…

< Previous Session

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lauraneedstochill · 2 years ago

Text

My first choice (part 2)

summary: Aemond thinks you are way too good to be Aegon’s best friend. But you are enough for the one-eyed prince to fall in love with. pairing: Aemond Targaryen and F!Reader words: ~8500 (this is why I divided it into 2 parts lmao) warnings: friends to lovers, more angst (death of a parent, attempted harassment), hurt/comfort, an embarrassing amount of softness, Aegon is the smartest one for once author’s note: this is heavily inspired by “Little women” (2019) and Amy March in particular (read the rest of my long-ass explanation in part 1). again, I apologize for the angst! it gets worse before it gets better.

Part 2. In a room full of art I stare at you.

It’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with Aemond. Maybe you were too blind to notice until it was too late or maybe you were doomed from the start. From the moment when the boy, who everyone deemed to be intimidating and reclusive, bent down to you to offer help without any hesitation. The second-born son of the King, tall and close-mouthed, surely had more important things to do than waste time on a strange girl crying over her stupid dress — and yet, he only showed you solicitude, asking for nothing in return.

You thought that mayhaps you owed him, and were seeking the opportunity to return the favor. Or at least that’s how you tried to justify the fact that you were looking for him every chance you got. You often found a reason to chat with Aemond during dinners and feasts, feeling bad for him spending time on his own — and you learned that he was very easy to talk to. You made sure to visit the training yard if he was there and sometimes stayed to watch him train for hours, even — or especially — when everyone else already left. His tenacity and strength had certain allure but under all those layers, you saw a lonely boy whose only friend was probably his dragon.

Despite the circumstances and his preferred solitude, Aemond never rejected your company, however sudden it might have been. Even when Aegon foolishly suggested playing hide and seek one evening, bored out of his mind, and you busted into the library and stumbled upon Aemond, who looked like he had no interest in silly games. And yet, when you awkwardly asked for the best place to hide at, he guided you to the enclosed area of the reading room. It was dimly lit by just a few candles and, somewhere between feeling uncomfortable and getting scared, you reached for his hand. He didn’t pull away. Furthermore, he stayed with you and cheered you up with stories about Old Valyria, making you forget about any childish fears.

As the two of you have grown older, you often heard people being frightened by Aemond’s disposition but you found there to be no ground for that. He’s never been rude to you nor had he lost his temper, regardless of circumstances — and the day you saw him without the eyepatch for the first time was the prime example of that. It was getting late and Aegon had too much to drink and, while running around in a drunken stupor, he cut his hand somewhere in the yard. Luckily, the wound wasn’t too deep but he was bleeding and refused to get help, against your best wishes. He was babbling that scars adorn a man — and then, in an attempt to escape you chasing him, he barged into Aemond’s chambers. You ran in merely a second after, with explanations at the ready, and were met with his younger brother standing there, looking startled. It took you a second to realize he wasn’t wearing his eyepatch.

“My scar will be easier to hide,” Aegon giggled, not recognizing the gravity of the situation.

It was the only time you had to make an effort not to slap him in the face. You thought it was mostly a secondhand embarrassment, which was part of the experience of being Aegon’s friend, but the look on Aemond’s face, hurt and humiliated, also made your heart ache.

“His scar is a reminder of his bravery and the strength of his character that he should only be proud of,” you gave Aegon a death stare. “Yours will be a reminder of your idiocy.”

It seemed to work as his smile vanished and he even muttered an apology, leaving hurriedly to call for the maester. When you turned to Aemond, he already had his eyepatch on, and you fought the urge to come and take him by the hand again. You didn’t want to bother him at such a late hour, so you opted to offer an apology, too, and leave him be.

“His behavior was unworthy. But I meant what I said,” you turned to Aemond on your way out. “And the sapphire looks very pretty,” you could swear you saw a trace of a smile on his face but you chose not to think much of it.

With every encounter, sudden or not, and every conversation, most of which were too short for your liking, you were making more room for Aemond in your heart. You should’ve known you were a lost cause when you actually told yourself — out loud, with hands grabbing the edges of your table — “I will not fall in love with him.” At that point, you already did. He always worked so hard to be seen — and you only had eyes for him all along.

You hid your true feelings well enough for anyone to take notice — but your father was no fool. He also knew better than to meddle with whatever your thinking process was. So he watched from afar for quite some time, until you started catching his curious glances on you every time you went to talk to Aemond. Predictably, after yet another feast he could not resist bringing up the topic.

“Did the royal menace have too many cups of wine again? Haven’t seen him this evening,” he adored Aegon whole-heartedly, and you suspected that their shared love for crude humor was the main reason for that. You didn’t mind.

“Wasn’t that many, actually,” you chuckled. “But he asked me and Aemond to help him to his chambers, said he wasn’t in the mood today.”

“Well, you seem to really enjoy Aemond’s company. I assume that the feeling is mutual?” he looked expressively at you.

Your face grew hot at his words. You also felt your heart break just a little.

“We are merely friends,” you told him, your smile too tense to be believable.

There was a shadow of concern in your father’s gaze, followed by a sad sigh.

“You will let me know if anything changes, though?” he mustered a smile in return and his was much brighter than yours.

“You will be the first one to know,” you promised as he came closer to bring you into a bear hug. You never spoke of it again.

Surprisingly, the only other person who seemed to have suspicions about the nature of your and Aemond’s relationship was his father, the King. You didn’t think he was aware of your existence, and even when your friendship with Aegon grew stronger and you became a regular guest at the castle, you soon realized Viserys barely paid any mind to his younger kids’ whereabouts. You would catch a glimpse of him in the halls and curtsy out of politeness but didn’t expect him to notice. You got too comfortable with his absence — so much so, that one day, when Aegon was carrying your supplies and humorously complained about the lack of art in the castle, you blithely suggested painting a portrait of the King. The last thing you expected was for said man to step out of the corner.

“I would be delighted,” he cut right to the chase. “Lady Y/N, isn’t it?”

He didn’t look scary up close, his face wrinkled and a tad too tired, but quite benevolent. He simply asked if you would be content with drawing him on the Iron Throne and you agreed, just as easily. Truth be told, you didn’t think he would follow up on his offer — being the King and all that, but he sent a carriage down to fetch you literally the next day. Viserys took the task with juvenile ardor, bombarding you with questions — what pose to take, what paint do you use, how quickly will it dry and how did you learn to draw. After he was satisfied with the answers, he changed the subject.

“My wife considers you to have a positive influence on my eldest son,” he pointed out with ill-concealed interest.

“I deeply appreciate her trust but I believe that he is capable of changing on his own,” you corrected him courtly.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he disagreed with a mischievous grin. “I’ve only heard good words about your guidance. It seems that you rein him back so easily, you would’ve made for a fine wife.”

You silently groaned at his comment.

“Your grace, I can assure you, our relationship is strictly of a friendly nature.”

“Oh, I know, I have seen you two,” he said, laughing, and when you peered at him, you saw that it wasn’t his usual uncomfortable-looking crooked grin but an actual genuine laugh.

“Shall you ever lay an eye on any other of my sons,” Viserys continued, much to your surprise. “Do not hesitate to tell me,” and his face suggested he knew more than he was letting on.

You ducked behind the canvas so he didn’t see your heated cheeks.

His suggestion lodged in your memory and even though you wouldn’t dare to actually approach the King, you held out hope that maybe he would give Aemond a similar hint. But months passed, Viserys’s condition drastically worsened, and for whatever reason, he never mended the relationship with his children. And eventually, your hope was gone.

You didn’t lie to Aemond when you told him about having power over who you love. But you failed to mention that said power has its limits — and doesn’t guarantee that your feelings won’t be one-sided. You learned that lesson the hard way when you had to face up to the reality you were in. Your love for Aemond seemed to be as infinite as the ocean — and you had to fit it in a fragile vessel of your heart. At first, you felt the waves raging at the mere glance of his, at every gesture of his goodwill or just upon hearing his voice. The storm of your feelings would splash over the rocks of your self-control but you survived the roaring torrent of love, time after time. The rough ocean grew calm over the years as you came to terms with being in love with someone who didn’t love you back.

You did choose to harbor feelings for Aemond, and you had no regrets about that. But when adulthood came with its own responsibilities that you had to focus on, all your energy was put into finding a husband. You were aware that your choice would have a major impact on your family as their stability depended on it. You approached the issue in a cold-hearted manner, prioritizing the duty above all else. Mayhaps, you were too calculated in your pursuit, and that was how you ended up accepting the courtship of a man who had nothing to give but his wealth.

When it comes to Jason, he never ceases to evoke a few feelings, too, but none of them are pleasant. His arrogance is the first thing that catches the eye — he’s wrapped in it and wears it with pride as if it’s another title of his. You often have to bite your tongue and fake a smile in response to his dismissive remarks and borderline vulgar comments. It doesn’t help that his self-esteem is inflated beyond your comprehension, and if only he could put his own face on their House’s sigil, he would. You are grateful that he keeps his hands to himself but you notice him getting quite handsy with the maids, and it gives you an unsettling feeling. His behavior is so disdainful and frivolous, you have no doubts that once you are married, you will be merely an accessory to him, a pretty wife to show off to his friends without taking your opinion into account. Showing off is the one thing he does best — and each time you can’t help but compare him to Aemond who doesn’t even know how to take a compliment. You find yourself thinking about the prince every time Jason comes by, and these thoughts help you get through tiresome promenades with the lord and endure boring dinners with him.

But after your last conversation with Aemond, you force yourself to stop thinking about him altogether. That decision is remorseless but you believe it’s for the better — or at least that’s what you convince yourself to think after you run out of the garden and into your carriage, only caring about getting home as soon as possible. You pretend that nothing happened, lying to your parents that the prince was too busy and you had to return earlier than planned. And then you lock yourself in your chambers, with hand clamped over your mouth to muffle the sound of crying. A small part of you hopes that Aemond will come to you the same day and explain himself. But he doesn’t. When you don’t hear from him for another two days, you come to the conclusion that he regretted his sudden outburst. And that his words actually held no meaning.

Cutting Aemond out of your life does seem to be attainable with some time, and you perceive it as just another task, another skill you can master. But getting him out of your head seems like an impossible goal from the start. You are so used to keeping memories of him, cherishing each and every one, you can’t just erase them all at once. You try your best, you do so with ferocious persistence, but there’s always some annoying little reminder ready to surface and catch you off guard at the most inopportune moment.

It gets even harder when four days later you find yourself sitting next to Jason who is even more presumptuous than usual. At this point, you feel like your nerves are at the limit, so you can’t even find it in yourself to keep up the act. You push your food around the plate, jumping from one pointless thought to another: the tasteless meal, the barely visible crack in your cup, the revolting tone of the lord’s voice. You feel your mother staring at you, clearly displeased with your attitude, yet Jason is oblivious, too wrapped up in bragging about his winery — or whatever else he is talking about, you have no idea because you stopped paying attention about twenty minutes ago.

You think if you stay by his side any longer, you will be physically sick.

So you get up from the table — may be a bit too dramatic for your own liking — and muster out a weak excuse:

“My apologies, I am in need of fresh air.”

You leave before anyone has a chance to stop you.

It seems like an act of disobedience but there’s so much freedom in it, you feel that you can finally take a breath. And you do exactly that once you reach the balcony, several corridors away from the dining hall that felt stuffed with Jason’s ego. As you stand there, soaking up the last rays of the sun, you can’t ignore the obvious question — how is it even possible to marry someone you absolutely cannot tolerate. You never had illusions about the nature of your relationship with him but you at least hoped there would be some ground to build your future on. At yet, right now it looks like you are trying to lay a foundation in the quicksand. For a man of a noble lineage, Jason knows too little of what nobility actually is, and you have enough self-respect to not give him explanations. The prospect of marrying him makes your duty feel like a burden, and you contemplate if you should even take the risk.

You are lost in your thoughts until you hear a thin voice:

“Do you know where the sun lands?”

You turn to find your sister Alyna standing at the door, in her long white nightgown and barefoot, her eyes unnaturally large for her baby-like face. She always talks like that, too thoughtful for her young age, and sometimes she reminds you of Helaena. There you go, another connection to Aemond.

“I do not, my sweetling. Wherever that place is, it’s a well-guarded secret,” you comb her curly hair with your fingers as her curious eyes study your face.

“Maybe it doesn't want to be seen,” she deduces. “Just like you don't.”

Her ability to get straight to the point sometimes blindsides you. It’s also quite liberating to talk to someone who hasn’t yet learned the skill of pretense, and she may be the only sibling of yours with no ulterior motives or hidden agenda. Alyna tilts her head, signaling that she isn’t enjoying your touch anymore — and when you remove your hand, she says, out of the blue:

“Just like Ser Lannister doesn’t.”

You stare at her in bewilderment, and only then notice that the hallway behind her is empty. It dawns on you that Alyna’s nanny Dorea is nowhere to be found. She is only a couple of years older than you, meek and quiet, her trusting nature ever so defenseless — but she is also very pretty. Too pretty for her own good, as your mother likes to say.

You feel a wave of nausea again. This time, it’s followed by a sense of dread curdling in your stomach.

“What did he do?” your voice comes out unusually calm, in striking contrast with how you are really feeling.

“I heard him talking to Dorea outside my chambers. I wanted to join the conversation but he asked me to leave,” her brows slightly furrow. “He said there are some things I am not supposed to see.”

It may be the first thing you and Jason can agree on, you think. It is also the only thing because you certainly will never agree to marry him — and that realization frees you of any false politeness and self-restraint.

“What are those things?” Alyna naively asks, shifting from one foot to the other.

“I shall go and ask him,” you pat her on the cheek. “But you stay here, alright? I will be back before you know it.”

Usually, it would take about a minute to reach your sister’s chambers, but you cover the distance twice as fast. You are a couple of feet away when you hear muffled voices — one is demanding, the other one is scared, and both are well-known to you. You grasp the situation in no time and run to quickly open the door. When you walk in, you feel a flare-up of anger at the sight: Jason grabbed Dorea by the hips, trying to pull her closer, as she weakly protests, her palms pushing at his chest in an attempt to get away. The squeak of the door makes them turn their heads to you, and you see the distressed look on the nanny’s face.

And then their gazes fall behind your back, and Dorea gets horrified.

You easily guess the reason for that — your younger sister isn’t very good at following orders. So Alyna mumbles, standing next to you and looking at her nanny:

“I do not think she likes it.”

“Neither do I,” you throw Jason a baleful stare. “Let her go and get out.”

He removes his hands — so carelessly, it almost seems like he’s offended by your suggestion of his wrongdoing. Dorea immediately comes to your side, ashamed and distraught.

“Did he hurt you?” you inquire, helping to adjust her dress.

“My lady, I think you misinterpreted —” Jason tries to say but you shut him off.

“I am not talking to you,” you scowl in his direction. Your face softens when you ask Dorea again: “Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head, sheepishly trying to explain:

“I didn’t do anything, I-I didn’t want to, and he said... He said he is a lord and I sh-should be flattered.”

Not only did Jason has the audacity to pull that off but he also wanted to do so at your little sister’s chambers — and you simmer at the thought.

“I believe you,” you gently stroke her shoulder. “I promise you will never see him again.”

“These are some unrealistic expectations,” Jason sneers, walking to you but his grin dies down when you look at him again.

“I know your opinion of women isn’t very high — trust me, the feeling is mutual — but you cannot seriously believe you will fool me,” you sense that now he isn’t pleased with your attitude but you don’t care. “When I told you to get out, I meant it. You are not welcome in this house.”

“That doesn’t sound like a wise decision to make if we are to be wed,” Jason contemptuously hisses.

“Then I guess the wedding is off,” you glare defiance at him. “But whoever you end up marrying, I hope she outlives you. Just so she can spit on your grave,” the last part is meant only for him to hear.

And he definitely does as his face reddens with rage. Jason roughly grabs you by the hand, and your nose fills with the stench of wine when he speaks:

“You are in no position to make demands,” he drawls. “Your family is in debt up to its ears, you little halfwit, so I suggest you choose your words very carefully.”

While he doesn’t see it, Alyna looks between you two, and, out of the corner of your eye, you notice her frowning. She doesn’t do well with conflicts as they upset her deeply, which can only trigger one reaction. Before you can say anything, a high-pitched scream shatters the room, echoing through the whole house.

Jason removes his hand within a second, looking shocked, but Alyna stands innocently with her mouth closed as if nothing happened. Your parents come to her chambers in the blink of an eye.

“What is wrong?” your mother looks at you all uncomprehendingly.

“Ser Lannister got lost,” you cooly explain. “He is already leaving.”

“And why is that?” your father glares at him with suspicion.

You want to spare Dorea the humiliation so you pause for a moment, trying to come up with an excuse. But Alyna has no understanding of what a maiden’s honor is — and she loudly proclaims:

“Ser Lannister was touching Dorea, and she didn’t like it.”

No one in the room needs an explanation for that.

“You shameless scoundrel!” your father roars at Jason, who unsurprisingly isn’t as courageous as before.

“Ser, there clearly has been a mistake — ”

“It was a mistake to let you in,” your father rudely interrupts him. “You won’t set foot in my house ever again. Get out of here before I make you!”

Jason doesn’t need to be told twice and storms out of the room as your father’s gaze follows him. He stands with hands clenched into fists, his nostrils flaring with anger.

“Pompous jerk,” he mumbles under his breath. “And to think that I was willing to give him my daughter’s hand...!” his voice breaks, hoarse with ire, and you notice a vein pop on his forehead. You have never seen him so furious.

“He’s been dealt with,” you cautiously say to ease the tension. “That shouldn’t be a cause for your concern anymore.”

He turns to you, his eyes bloodshot and breathing heavy. As you step closer, you hear whistling sounds with his every breath, and his gaze gets absent. You realize that something is wrong as he opens his mouth to speak but no sound comes out.

“Father, are you alright?”

He places a hand over his heart, trying to inhale, a look of fear in his eyes. The chain of events is too sudden to comprehend: his breathing begins to wheeze as he squirms, falls flat on his back and convulses.

And then your evening turns out to be way worse than you could’ve ever imagined. A week later Aegon wakes up at an ungodly hour — and he’s fueled by sole determination to put an end to everyone’s misery. Surely, he must be the only sane person in his house since all his family members seem to be oblivious to what is going on between you and Aemond. Aegon, however, can use his eyes for their intended purpose — and it is clear as day to him that you and his brother are in love with each other.

He caught on to that pretty fast, although the signs were not that obvious at first: you often smile to people purely out of politeness and Aemond may not show his true feelings even under threat of death. So Aegon kept secretly observing you two, taking note of fleeting glances and light touches, of the way you would relax in Aemond’s presence, the way he was always too eager to help you with whatever you needed, and how you two would gravitate toward each other. Both his brother and his best friend were annoyingly stubborn about making their own decisions so Aegon didn’t mean to interrupt — or at least he tried not to. But when your evident mutual pining stretched into years, Aegon started losing his patience.

In the beginning, he initiated small things, asking Aemond to come and greet you (“Oh, I just woke up! And you are already dressed for the occasion”), to deliver you his hand-written message (“Yes, it is incredibly important and I trust no one but you!” — it was his doodling of Aemond), to keep you company during the feast while Aegon stepped out for a moment (he didn’t come back). He asked him to switch places at dinner (so you and Aemond could sit together), to help find the books you wanted (“All those years of you reading should be good for something”), to pick up the portrait of his children (“They are your nephews, is it so hard?! No, I am not being dramatic!”). A couple of times he even pretended to be way more drunk than he actually was just so you and Aemond could help him to his chambers and spend some time alone in the process. None of that worked. At some point, he seriously contemplated locking you both in a room but then came to the conclusion that you would rather team up to find a way out than confess your feelings. Truly, it seemed hopeless, and Aegon thought that maybe he should give up.

But as of recently he couldn’t help but notice that something was clearly off between you and Aemond, although the younger prince refused to talk about it, and you simply stopped visiting the castle. He decided to give it a day or two, hoping that you would sort things out and refusing to even consider the opposite. A week passed and nothing changed, and Aegon cannot bear looking at Aemond’s sour face any longer. So the older prince comes up with a plan.

He is unexpectedly the first one at the breakfast table and everyone who walks in shoots him a surprised glance. They are amazed even more to see that Aegon isn’t drinking which is as rare as a miracle. Aemond comes last and he is the only one who doesn’t notice the change, too wrapped up in his thoughts. Another thing that goes unnoticed is the gleam of sadness on their mother’s face.

Five minutes in, Aegon clears his throat to attract everyone’s attention.

“So, I was thinking,” he drawls loudly.

“That does not sound good,” Otto mutters, unimpressed, which Aegon chooses to ignore and continues.

“Lady Baratheon’s poor taste in men shouldn’t be an obstacle in our way of reaching the grand goal.”

“Which is...?” Otto asks while the younger prince doesn’t move an ear.

“To find a lady worthy of my brother, of course!” Aegon tries his best to say it with a straight face.

Aemond spares him a glance. “I didn’t know you took much interest in that.”

“I always have your best interest in mind,” Aegon slaps him on the shoulder earning a disgruntled hum in return.

“I was just thinking if we should go over the list of requirements once more,” Aegon suggests.

“I don’t have a li—”

“Of course you do!” another slap. “At the very least, she should be of a noble kind. Am I right?”

“Sure,” Aemond absentmindedly agrees.

“And we are definitely looking for someone who is keen on reading.”

“Yes,” Aemond rolls his eye and looks at his plate, already showing no interest in the conversation. That is exactly what Aegon wants — and he starts talking a bit faster:

“Someone with a flexible nature...”

“U-hmm.”

“And with a kind heart...”

“Yes.”

“A great listener...”

“Uh-huh”

“Who will attend to your every need...”

“Sure.”

“And may even be of indescribable beauty...”

“Hmm.”

“...And you will still be miserable because you love Y/N.”

“Yes,” Aemond says without thinking — and then it’s too late to take his word back because everyone’s eyes are already on him. When he turns to his brother, Aegon has a shit-eating grin on his face:

“You are welcome.”

Alicent looks genuinely confused. “Aemond, but why haven’t you mentioned it?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same question for years,” Aegon snorts, and Otto raises an eyebrow.

“Years?” his grandsire questions.

“I almost gave up on him,” Aegon keeps talking while his brother just sits there, eye glued to the table.

“She was the one who drew the portrait of our father,” Helaena cheerfully speaks up. “And he kept it.”

“He did,” Alicent nods and gives her son a sympathetic look. “Aemond, she is an admirable young lady. No one would have spoken against it if only you —”

“It doesn’t matter now,” Aemond cuts her off, averting his gaze. “She is to be betrothed to Ser Lannister, and I do not intend to ruin her plans.”

“You cannot be serious!” Aegon pinches the bridge of his nose. “Shall you find the courage to propose, she will immediately reject him!”

“She already did,” Alicent avows, to everyone’s surprise.

Aemond looks up at his mother in an instant.

“Did she?” he asks in disbelief.

Alicent gives him a wan smile.

“A week ago, yes. It is rumored that his behavior... left much to be desired,” she explains half-heartedly. Her face, however, doesn’t show any signs of happiness.

“That seems like a reason to celebrate but it doesn’t sound like it,” Aegon looks at her questioningly, and Aemond tenses up in anticipation.

Alicent dithers as her face falls, eyes getting woeful and voice feeble.

“Her father fell ill that very day. Some say he got too upset with the whole situation, and I...,” she takes a deep breath. “I received a message this morning. He passed away three nights ago.”

Everyone falls silent, their faces showing shock that is quickly replaced by sadness.

“Seven hells,” Aegon mumbles.

Aemond doesn’t utter a word, feeling his heart sinking. He knows that you’ve always been your father’s daughter, and the prince cannot even begin to imagine how heartbroken you are right now. He should’ve been there for you, he thinks, full with remorse and guilt.

“You should go,” Aegon turns to him, not a hint of jesting in his voice. “We may give her some time to grieve, but I will gladly take Sunfyre out for —”

“Why would you need to?” Aemond gives him a puzzled look. “I can take Vhagar.”

Aegon emits a long-drawn groan and says to no one in particular:

“And to think he is the smartest one? I am having doubts”, he then glances at Aemond with reproach. “I am sure her mourning family will not at all get terrified at the sight of your monstrous dragon.”

His brother mulls over the idea.

“It is not safe to fly drunk.”

“I will be stone-cold sober.”

“You believe both of us will fit into the saddle?”

“We will fit just fine, can you stop with your excuses?! I am being reasonable for once, and you are making me regret it!”

“I don’t think it would be wise,” Otto cuts in their bickering, and both princes turn to him.

He holds pause with a blank stare before a sly smile crawls out on his face.

“I would rather recommend the prince goes right away. We don’t want her family to make any rushed decisions,” their grandsire advises, earning a sign of relief from Aegon, who jumps out of his chair.

“We’re leaving this very second! Do I need to drag you out of your —”

“You do not,” Aemond stands up in a hurry — and then Aegon still grabs him by the hand, pulling his brother out of the room.

Alicent gazes fondly after them.

“It was very kind of you,” she says to her father without looking at him.

Otto thinks that, with how well you’ve been handling Aegon, marrying you to Aemond would be a blessing. Because gods know, he is fed up with them both.

On their way to the Dragonpit Aegon can barely hold back his excitement but his brother’s mind is clearly elsewhere. The older prince lets Aemond take time to gather his thoughts and doesn’t bother him along the road. But once they reach the cavernous building and both pop out of the carriage, Aegon decides some encouragement would be fitting.

“Have I ever told you how I met her? That day at the feast?”

Mentioning your name always works wonders — Aemond turns to him in a flash.

“I was jesting around and she was the only one who didn’t laugh at my jokes. At all. Just stood there with a straight face and ignored me. Can you imagine?”

Aemond does know the unimpressed look you usually give Aegon, and it causes him to let out a dull chuckle.

“Took me good five minutes to even make her smile — and, frankly, my success didn’t last very long. Pretty sure half of my jokes landed flat. But you know what was the real issue?” Aegon’s smile is melancholic. “Most of the evening she kept asking about you.”

Aemond looks like the very epitome of heartbreak. Not only was he blind, he was also an idiot, he realizes.

“I know, I should’ve told you sooner,” Aegon gives him an apologetic look.

Aemond shakes his head. “I should’ve told her sooner.”

“Well, it’s only been what, seven years?” his brother chortles weakly while the dragon keepers finally bring out Sunfyre, and the dragon casts Aemond a curious look.

Aegon approaches the beast first, running his hand over the scales that shine bright in the sunlight, and the prince can never get tired of that blinding beauty. But his excitement mingles with another feeling.

“I value her friendship, you do know that, right?” he squints at Aemond, who simply nods.

“This is my way of saying that if you mess it up, I might push you off my dragon on our way back,” Aegon casually remarks, grabbing the rope to climb up.

Aemond falters with answering, reluctant to admit.

“There is a chance that I already messed it up.”

Aegon looks down at his brother and gives him a stern glare.

“Unmess it, then.” You don’t remember much from the past week, your days and nights blurred into one another. The only thing that stays on your mind is your father’s face — you can still see it so clearly, with his gentle gaze and his every wrinkle, the corners of his mouth always upturn like he’s a second away from smiling. You also remember how that face contorted in pain, how his body stiffened, and that scene plays on repeat in your head, over and over. And then there are only pieces of memories, torn and mushed together, and you can’t find it in yourself to sort them out.

You spend all your time at your father’s bedside, with a string of never-ending prayers falling from your lips. They don’t seem to help — and nor do the maester’s efforts, and you lose hope with each passing minute. As hours fly, you get a very bad feeling that soon turns into blood-curdling awareness. Deep down, you know what’s to come, and you hate yourself for it. You think you will never stop crying but by the time the maester declares your father’s demise, there are no tears left. Death has many faces — none of them looked at you with mercy.

Your mother wails, overtaken by despair, your sisters don’t leave her side, eyes puffy and full of sorrow, and you are sure that you look the same — yet you feel completely empty. There’s a cleft in a place of your heart, and all the feelings seemed to flow out, leaving you drained and emotionless, but it brings you no relief. Everything in your house reminds you of your father, his presence tangible in the rooms and in the halls, his image still as clear as a reflection in the mirror. The memories of him crawl out of every corner, seep from under the doors, fall on you along with the dust you brush off his things that you can’t make yourself take away.

Stacks of hardcovers with bookmarks in the middle.

The unfinished cup of wine.

The long grey coat hanging on the back of his chair.

Piles of letters left unanswered.

Parchments, ink and a quill that he will never use again.

All the pieces of him that you can’t look at, don’t want to look at — yet it’s all you see, and there’s is no hiding from it. You feel trapped in your own house, and you wait for the walls to collapse so maybe under the weight of them you will find some peace. You are restless in your grief, you are drowning in it.

The day of the funeral leaves a blank space in your memory, void of colors and sounds apart from everyone’s crying. The ceremony is rushed and there is only a handful of family members since your mother couldn’t bring herself to tell everyone yet. You don’t blame her for it — you think she’s too afraid to say it out loud, afraid that speaking the words will make them real, and she’ll have to finally accept his death. You have no problem with acceptance, you just don’t know how to move on. How to stay strong when you are shattered beyond repair.

Your home now feels like a coffin but everyone expects you to be in charge, so you force yourself to. Merely an hour after his body was buried in soil wet with rain, you find yourself sorting out his papers. You look through his diary, his scribbled notes, the calculations he made in attempts to stabilize the emptying coffers. He’s always been the responsible one, keeping count and cutting costs, planning for the future — and yet he’s been robbed of it. None of it makes sense to you and your father isn’t there to teach you. You clench your teeth in frustration, and it makes you want to put your head through a wall.

You push through the second and the third day. You give orders to the maids, who walk on eggshells around the house, sharing concerned looks. You take it upon yourself to bring meals to your mother and all but spoon-feed her so she at least will have some energy to get up from bed. She doesn’t — while you want nothing more than to get away. You’ve had a fair share of responsibilities your entire life but now there’s an abundance of them and it puts you in a chokehold, and you are all alone in your discomfort which brings you no respite at all.

On the fourth day you wake up feeling like the walls are closing in and you can’t breathe, the need to leave anchoring in your lungs. You don’t want to waste another second as you put on a coat right on top of your nightgown, frightened that each moment of stalling might lead to you being dragged into the same routine again. But the house is asleep, and the sun has barely risen when you tiptoe out of your room. You only wake up one maid, telling her you’ll go for a walk so your sudden absence doesn’t come off as a deed of cruelty.

You step outside and close the door behind your back, taking a slow, deep inhale. And just when the guilt is about to sneak up on you — you dart off into the morning fog.

The air is fresh and cooling against your skin as you run away from your house and through the trees, not minding the branches or the damp ground. You breathe the crisp air in, and it makes your body feel weightless, and you speed up, leaving no chance for the responsibilities to catch up with you. Patches of the forest, splattered with all shades of green, bushes and weeds that graze your knees — you pay them no attention as your feet carry you further away, up the hill, to the most remote place you can think of. You don’t know how long it takes for you to reach the narrow wooden bridge and cross the remaining field that ends with a cliff, but when you finally do, your feet ache and your lungs burn and you gulp air.

The sky is draped by the light layer of clouds but the blue of it stretches as far as the eyes can reach, and the movement of the sea can be seen in the distance. The morning is still with silence and it welcomes you, the fresh breeze encircling your body. The feeling of it isn’t gentle as the wind instantly bites every part of your skin that is covered with sweat. You should’ve worn thicker layers, you shouldn’t have rushed, maybe you shouldn’t have come at all — but you are too tired of thinking, of restrictions. Of yourself.

You let the cold seep in and pierce you to the marrow as you watch the waves meeting the horizon. You then close your eyes, hands coming up to cross over your chest. It’s an oblivion of some sort — with no demands and no tears, it’s only you and the wind. The empty space around you matches the emptiness in your heart, and the beating of it sounds like a hollow note. You feel nothing, you feel numb, but it’s so tranquilizing, you can’t help but give in, just to stop brooding for a few minutes — or maybe hours, you care not.

In this state of torpor, you almost miss the sound of wings cutting through the air. When you open your eyes, you only catch a shadow hidden by the clouds and a glimpse of gold but it’s still enough to guess. Sunfyre. At any other time, Aegon’s visit would’ve brought you joy yet right now it feels useless against the doldrums of your soul. At least your sisters will be happy to see him, you think, not having the slightest desire to move from your spot. The wind is now howling, the grass is rustling — and then the small measured sound joins the melody of nature. It sounds like someone’s approaching but their step is nearly noiseless. There is only one person who walks like that, and the realization brings you out of your trance.

You turn to Aemond before he can say anything, your gaze meeting his, and he immediately stands still. The distance between you is just like before, and you only now grasp the amount of time that has passed. You haven’t seen him in two weeks — and so much has changed, and nothing is the same — but when you look at Aemond, at every painfully familiar feature of his, your heart twinges. You really, really missed him, and it’s the first thing you feel in fourteen days.

He notes your lack of protest and hesitantly comes toward you, only pausing when he’s at arm’s length. His cheeks are flushed pink from the wind, the collar of his coat raised to the angles of his jaw.

“I didn’t want you to be alone,” his tone is filled with sadness. “Even if you despise me.”

“I could never,” you mirror the words he once said but your voice comes out too quiet and blank.

There is only compassion and understanding in his gaze, and you are hungry for both, so you don’t break eye contact. He doesn’t, either, and reaches out a hand — it moves to your shoulder as he says:

“I am so sor—” when his fingers come in contact with you, Aemond suddenly stops talking, and his eye darts to your arm. There is a flicker of confusion on his face that quickly turns into worry.

“You are freezing,” he breathes out, and his worry grows stronger in an instant.

Aemond cautiously guides his hand up and down your arm — you see the movement, clear as day, but you don’t feel it at all.

“I didn’t really notice,” you mumble.

You want to tell him that staying with your family drove you up the wall, that you lost sleep and the nights bring you no rest, that you accept your emptiness and loathe it. But the wind is still howling, your mind is clouded with exhaustion, and you are afraid that Aemond will get angry at you.

Instead, he pleads.

“Let me take you home,” he continues caressing your arm. “Please, let’s go back. You can’t —”

“I don’t want to,” you retort, and all the unsaid words bubble up and pour out. “I could not stay there any longer, it was all too much, I needed a break, I — it just made me feel like...,” your skin finally absorbs the heat of his touch which sends goosebumps down your spine, and you get short of breath.

“Like I wanted to disappear,” you say, voice barely above the whisper.

Your confession hangs in the air, and you catch that same unreadable emotion in his eye. Three heartbeats later Aemond removes his hand, and the absence of it threatens to strip you of your short-lived comfort. But then he unbuttons his coat — and opens his arms to you:

“Disappear here.”

His words break the ice of your numbness, filling your lungs with air — so much of it, you almost feel light-headed. You are cold, and you are lonely, and you missed him. In a heartbeat you fall into his embrace, with the same force one may plummet down from a cliff — only instead of waves, you are welcomed by his warmth, and you instantly sink into it.

Aemond takes you under his coat, gently putting it over your body, and then holds you tight. You instinctively wrap your hands around his waist, nestling against his chest. Your cold palms glide over his shirt, and Aemond involuntarily shivers but doesn’t budge. He starts slowly stroking your back, and you soak up the calmness that radiates off him. His touch is soothing, quieting your mind, and you lose yourself in the serenity that it brings.

You are both lost in time, standing quietly, as your body gradually warms up and relaxes. You listen to his heartbeat, the rhythm of it even and lulling, and it makes you feel at peace.

When Aemond looks at you clinging to him, his heart swells with so much love, he can barely contain it.

“How are you feeling?” he asks softly.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “It all happened so fast, I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t. Everyone expects something from me now and I... I wish he was still here.”

“Your father was the kindest man I have ever met,” his voice is laced with sorrow. “I am so sorry you had to go through that. I should’ve come sooner but I only found out this morning.”

“And you came,” you remark delicately. “It’s all that matters.”

You snuggle up to him even more and relish in the feeling of his body close to yours, finding solace in it. You let yourself forget about everything else in the world, comforted by his kindness as he shields you from all the worries and the troubles of life.

“Whose idea was it to take Sunfyre?”

“Aegon’s,” the prince chuckles. “He was very persuasive, I’ll give him that.”

“Is he waiting for you on the hill?”

“He went to see your family, offer his condolences. And maybe complain a little since he didn’t particularly enjoy the flight.”

You try imagining the two of them squeezed into the saddle, and you know Aemond must’ve teased Aegon all the way to your house. You feel the tickling of laughter in your throat but it doesn’t go higher and then dissolves. Still, it’s a start.

“How much do you regret agreeing to that?”

Aemond pauses — and then his low voice vines through your hair:

“Right now, I don’t.”

You feel his heart skipping a beat, and for some reason, his pulse speeds up. You wonder what the reason may be, and your cheeks heat up when you are struck by the answer you can’t dare to hope for.

Or maybe you can.

“I’m not marrying Ser Lannister,” you blurt out, your own chest vibrating with anxiety.

Aemond pulls away just a bit, only to have a look at you.

“I heard about that,” he reveals. “He was never a good —”

“You are under no obligation to say anything or do anything,” you cut him off, nervously lowering your gaze, because if he tries to pity you it will break your heart all over again, and you cannot bear it right now. “I just... I knew I would never love him. So I believe it’s only for the best.”

You keep babbling, but he hardly listens, his eye fixed on your face. Aemond isn’t sure you fully allow yourself to be this vulnerable with anyone. But it’s his favorite side of yours — with your bashful sincerity, your overly complicated explanations that he understands with ease, your habit of talking with hands, with your searching gaze and your eyes bright with life. It’s all the little things that he adores.

It’s what makes his feelings finally spill over.

“...But we don’t need to talk about it, you don’t need to say anyth—”

His touch is so gentle, you barely register when Aemond puts a finger beneath your chin, lifting your head to look at him — and then suddenly his lips cover yours. His mouth is even warmer than his hands, and he gives you a couple of seconds to make sure you won’t pull away. And then he starts kissing you, slowly and steadily, in a way you could only dream of.

Aemond gently cradles your head, his lips are soft and ardent — they meld with yours, and time freezes and sounds fade as you melt into the kiss, into his touch. And at that moment nothing else matters. You are wrapped in his tenderness, the ocean of feelings flooding your body, and he enters your heart like he owns it. He always did.

Aemond is the one to break the kiss, sensing that you are gasping for air. You slowly open your eyes in a daze, as if you’ve been awoken from a dream.

“I will take care of everything,” he affirms, his mouth still only a couple of inches away. “You do not have to worry about a thing.”

One of your hands moved on top of his chest, and you feel that his heart rate is back to normal. The pounding of it pulls you back to reality.

“You mean that?” you whisper. “Aemond, I don’t have that much to offer.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face and leaves a trail of light kisses up to your temple.

“You have everything a man can wish for,” he reassures you, and his gaze finds yours again. “Everything I have ever wished for.”

The prince takes your face between his hands, and his thumbs follow the contours of your cheeks.

“Even in a room full of art I can only look at you,” Aemond murmurs, his words are flamelike and go straight to your heart, making it flutter.

Only now you notice that the sun emerged from the clouds, and the golden light illuminates everything around you. You bask in it as well as in Aemond’s affection — and he makes you feel seen, safe, cared for. Loved.

“That was very poetic of you,” you tilt your head and lean closer to him.

“I agree with poets on one thing — we have no control over who we love. But I have never regretted loving you,” he can’t stop himself from placing a kiss on the edge of your mouth. “And if I had to choose, it would still be you.”

When you meet his gaze, this time you read it with ease — and you are sure it’s a mere reflection of your own. An overwhelming feeling sweeps over and spreads through you. But the ocean is calm, and you are not cold anymore — and Aemond does love you, after all.

You feel your mouth quirk in a smile, genuine and a very happy one. Aemond presses his forehead to yours and promises:

“From now on, you will always be my first choice,” and then you see him trailing for your lips.

And you believe him.

the taglist: @greenowlfactif, @mischiefmanaged71, @pasta-rask, @imjustboredso, @iiamthehybrid, @m00n5t0n3, @crispmarshmallow, @bellaisasleep, @aemondssuit, @ipadkidsworld, @itisjustwhatitis, @maximizedrhythms, @fckwritersblock, @hiatuswhore, @fantasyreader130, @bibli0thecary, @teapartydreams, @kyuupidwrites, @thelittleswanao3 (I couldn't tag some of you for whatever reason, so I'll just message you guys)

yep, it’s me again!

the title is someone’s quote (I have no idea where it’s from, pls help a girl out)

“Disappear here” are Jonathan Carroll’s words that have been engraved in my memory for years and they just popped into my head while I was writing in a haste and only then I realized wait, technically it’s a quote, you can’t do that?! but guess what, I did! I also tried to rephrase these two words but it looked weird so I’m letting you know that I suck as a writer

the bit when she babbles and he looks smitten with her — I couldn’t help but think of that scene from “North and South” (it screams Aemond to me!)

I imagined the cliff to look like this 🍃

I originally planned to turn the romance down just a notch ’cause I already have 4 sappy fics and I wanted this one to be more “realistic” but… oh well, me and romance go hand in hand, apparently.

you will see this version of Aegon more often because I enjoyed it immensely!

what do you guys think? comments and opinions are VERY welcome! 🥺 ✨ my masterlist English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

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