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#dear god she was from somewhere
unravelingwires · 10 months
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Somewhence
“Vijaya?” 
Jaya turned and inhaled sharply. “Ah– Mrs– My– um…”
“Baker.” The woman smiled. “Though you’re so grown up, you have to call me Harry. Do you–”
“I remember,” Jaya answered. “I’m sorry I forgot your name, but I do remember you, Miss– Myer. I– oh, goodness. I’m sorry–” that she didn’t keep in touch, that she didn’t come back to this neighborhood, that it had been almost a decade, oh lord it had been a decade, but none of this was really her fault she was like 10–
“And who is this?” My. Baker asked. That was right: she’d been good at smoothing awkwardness out of a conversation.
“Oh, right. This is Raine, my girlfriend, and Ellie, a friend. Raine, Ellie, this is My. Baker. She’s lived on this block an eternity.”
Ellie waved. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too. We moved in when you– Jaya– were a kid, actually,” My. Baker said. “You were tiny– this would have been 1990 or so.”
Jaya laughed. “Really? I saw you as these immovable pillars of living here, though I guess that’s silly.”
“You were always silly,” My. Baker half-agreed.
Raine snorted then tried to play it off as a cough.
“You checking on the old house?” My. Baker asked.
“Yeah,” Jaya said. “I’m thinking of moving back in or selling it… I mean, I was surprised when I realized Lady Chel hadn’t sold it, and I just thought I should do something with it. I don’t know.”
My. Baker waved. “Well, while you’re thinking about it, do you want to come in for a cup of tea? Laurie would love to see you.”
“Yes! I mean, yes, that sounds nice.” Jaya smiled.
Mrs. Baker laughed.
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reiderwriter · 5 months
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I’ve watching the episode where Reid kisses the actress. Could you write a fic where the reader is in the BAU and is best friends with Reid but has a secret crush on Reid which is obvious to everyone on the team but Reid and she is so jealous of the actress and the teams teases her about it?
A/N: Hello! Thanks for the request, I hope you enjoy it~♡
Warnings: none, hints of bi-reader, but like...come on.
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Your “too obvious, plain as day, nearly embarrassing” schoolgirl crush on Spencer Reid was taking too long to fizzle out naturally. 
When you'd met the man, and your heart fluttered, you knew you'd have to go through the motions: you'd hope, grow fonder of the man, dream about him, then cringe, get ick, and ultimately you'd achieve the ultimate crush death. 
You were stuck somewhere between hope and dream, still, and had taken a wrong turn somewhere leading to nearly Hozier-levels of desperate longing. 
5 months assisting the BAU as a press liaison, working as JJ's assistant on more public facing cases had landed you here. 
And what better case for you to spread your wings on than one in Los Angeles itself, starring the famous Lila Archer. 
When Gideon and Reid had called the case in, you'd been eager not to seem too eager. You'd never been out of Quantico on a case before, usually shacking up in an office to shout down phone lines as reporters on the press room floor telling them they were scum of the earth for sensationalizing murder. JJ had obviously taught you to have a more nuanced conversation that that, but your inner thoughts were still allowed. 
But LA was a different kettle of fish, and Hotch appreciated that. It didn't quite help that you visibly perked up when you heard Reid himself had a hand in calling it into the team. A high-school classmate and a jet ride later, you were excited and ready to greet Spencer Reid. And Lila Archer. 
She was so pretty it was intimidating to even breathe the same air as her, a magnetism that drew everyone in the room closer to her just as Spencer drew you towards him. 
You tried not to see the obvious attraction the two had to each other, but the bile rose in your throat every time you thought about the case. The sour twinge of jealousy became a constant on the case, as your efforts to save Lila from her stalker also pushed her closer and closer to Spencer. 
And that wasn't even accounting for the fact that you'd suddenly become tongue-tied around them.
Spencer had asked you multiple times how you were enjoying your first time out in the field, and the most you could muster was a nod and a stammered “it's been good, I guess.”
With Lila, it was worse. You couldn't even tell her your name, and had overheard her politely asking Reid for it a few times every time you'd dropped coffee off in their vicinity. 
Your school girl crush was hitting the first heartbreak road bump at full speed, and dear god, you were not ready for the car crash. 
You tried to psych yourself out of it, to clear your mind and remain professional, but one tabloid cover after wrapping the case ended that for you completely. 
“Whooo, Spencer, my man! I knew you were a pretty boy, I didn't know you had game like that!” 
The tabloid had been dropped on his desk by Derek loudly and had quickly drawn a crowd when they'd seen the resulting red flush from the man of the hour. 
He'd snatched up the gossip rag pretty quickly, but not before you'd gotten a glimpse of the cover. You recognised Lila’s pool, then Lila herself, then the man she was passionately making out with as you felt your heart crack in two. 
You'd stuck like a fly on the wall and quietly joined in the teasing as you swallowed all of your ugly emotions at once. 
“And in the pool, too, Spencer, that's crazy. Look at Y/N. She can't believe it herself!” You forced a small giggle past your lips and hoped the others couldn't tell how fake it was. You stuck out a few more minutes of conversation before nearly running back to JJ's, thankfully empty office. 
The tears were silent. 
You berated yourself for even letting them fall. An unrequited love wasn't the end of the world - especially considering you had to work with Reid, see him every day. 
It took you months to get over it. Not that you ever fully managed it.
You simply told yourself that you'd never felt that way in the first place, gaslighting yourself into believing there was no feelings and thus no heartbreak. 
After a month of haunting the office with your general gloom, you got into the flow of it and truly convinced yourself you were over it. 
And you were until everyone started talking about it all over again. 
“Spencer, I heard your lady friend is going to be in a real blockbuster soon. Congrats!” Morgan clapped the man on the shoulder as he walked past, discarding his coat at his desk as he arrived for work. 
You gripped your coffee mug slightly tighter as you wished the conversation would blow over. 
“Reid has a lady friend? Oh, please do not spare the details,” Emily jumped in, eager to integrate herself into the team now that she was in it. 
“You know that actress, Lila Archer? We babysat her on a case a couple of months back, and she took quite the liking to our little genius-” 
“Morgan, stop-” Reid groaned, flushing yet again at the mention of the whole scenario. 
“Okay, I'll back off,” the older man said quickly. “If you can tell me honestly, you don't still have that tabloid cover in the second draw of your desk.”
You tried to stand and walk away from the conversation without drawing any attention to yourself, but the tension in your body left you stiff and less than graceful. You tripped on the corner of your desk on your way out but didn't pause to even listen to the others' call after you in your haste to clear the venom burning in your throat. 
You were fine and happy to ignore your emotions, but you realized then that kind of tactics would only work if everybody else managed to avoid them, too. 
You calmed your pace to a wall and took a series of deep breaths, trying to rationalize your departure to yourself. 
“I'm busy. There's some files I need to pull anyway, so I'm just going to file storage. That's why I left my desk. That's all, I'm fine.” 
Your small pep talk didn't rewrite history, though, and you still felt a cloud of envy following you around.
He kept her picture. In his drawer. 
Truth be told, you weren't expecting it to hurt this bad. 
You heard footsteps come up behind you, so you quickly ducked into the empty elevator, not quite ready to face anyone yet. A hand caught it just as you were about to be left alone, though, and Spencer joined you in the elevator. 
You weren't exactly shocked to see him. He'd been just as uncomfortable with the topic of conversation as you had, if not more so. You just wished you hadn't been in the same place now. 
“Sorry, I need some files.” 
Great, you were going to the same place as well. You just nodded slightly and gave him a tight-lipped smile as you travelled down to the place you'd both chosen as an escape. 
“Back there, you left…” Spencer started, fidgeting awkwardly next to you in the elevator.
“You left pretty abruptly.”
“I remembered I needed some files.’
“Right, right…”
The silence that stretched between you was thick and suffocating, and you begged the elevator to move faster. 
“I don't, by the way.” He spoke up again, awkwardly clearing his throat before continuing. “I don't still have that tabloid. There is a picture in that drawer, but it's not…that one.” 
“A different picture of Lila, then?’ You tried to keep your tone light, but even while trying your hardest, you couldn't keep the bitterness out of your tone.
The elevator reached its destination, but you both held back for a few seconds, and neither of you was quite sure what to say anymore. 
“She kissed me, you know.” Spencer said, facing you now, pinning you in place with his attention. 
“Yes, Spencer. Well aware, I saw the photo, too.” 
“No.. no, I mean, she kissed me.” 
“Loud…loud and clear,” you said, raking a hand through your hair as you tried to drown out all of the noise. 
“Y/N, I don't think you're hearing me.” 
“Oh, and I should be paying attention to you recounting the time an actress decided you were worthy of your time and tried to mount you in a swimming pool? I need to hear about how her tongue felt being pushed down your throat?” 
The words jumped out of you, and you had no way to stop them once they started. Instead, you simply shoulder checked your way out of the still elevator and marched your way to the file room. 
“Y/N, I'm sorry, please just hear me out,” you heard Spencer calling out to you, but you didn't stop or turn around. 
“Y/N, I'm trying to explain, please just-” You heard him groan in frustration as you kept up your pace and felt slightly satisfied that he was having such a hard time. A solid hand on your wrist pulling you back wiped any smile you had on your face clean off, especially as you were pulled into a somewhat solid chest and a hand tipped your head up to meet his own. 
To say you hadn't imagined the moment that Spencer Reid kissed you for the first time would be a lie. You thought it would be sweet and small, an awkward peck if nothing else that led to giggles and more innocent chaste kisses and possibly an illusive hug. 
Instead, you were pushed back against the nearest wall, pinned up by your wrists, and robbed of all of your breath as Spencer kissed you until you were seconds from passing out. 
Even after you both came up from air, he released your wrists so he could angle your head back up to him, allowing him to deepen the kiss the second time around. 
Stunned was not the word. 
And though you were completely taken unaware by the kiss, that didn't mean you weren't eagerly reciprocating. 
You kept your wits about you as his tongue parted your lips, leaning into him as you savored the moment. 
It didn't stop the confusion after you finally broke apart, though. 
“What…the…fuck, Spencer?” You said between gasps, chest heaving. He let your wrists go awkwardly, hands trailing down to your waist as you rested yours on his shoulders.
“You weren't…listening. Needed a different strategy.” 
“Well, I'm all ears now.” 
He nodded and then took another moment to catch his breath before relinquishing you from his hold and putting a bit of space between you. 
“I didn't kiss Lila Archer. I didn't particularly want..to?” He cleared his throat and continued. 
“She kinda just grabbed me? And did it? There was a pool too, so I was trying not to choke on water and chlorine and hair everywhere. Like, she just grabbed me-” 
“Like you just did?” 
“Like I just… did, yeah, like that.” 
You weren't sure what to do or say anymore. So you just nodded and stood there, and so did he. 
“That's not to say that I didn't enjoy this kiss. It wasn't just to illustrate the point. It kind of was, in the sense that it helped you understand what happened before, and that I hope it will help you realize the point of this conversation-” 
“Which is?” 
“I like you.” He said, finally pausing his rambling to look you in the eyes. 
“I like you, and I didn't want you to misunderstand.” 
“Oh. Oh right.” 
You both stood there looking at each other and looking away in a loop, neither talking or breaking the silence until you both tried to. 
“What about y-” 
“Kiss me again.” 
Reid blinked at you a few more times, trying to work through your words. 
“Kiss me again” you repeated, stepping away from the wall and closer to Reid as he still just stared at you. 
“We're still working, what if someone walks past?” 
“Didn't stop you the first time.”
“But-”
You cut him off quickly, grabbing his tie and pulling him down to your level, locking lips with him again. 
When you again came up for breath, possibly much longer after the time a second kiss should last, both of you just laughed again. 
“I was jealous.” You said, looking up at him, ready to bare yourself to him now that he'd given a confession of his own. “Of Lila. Of you for being adored like that by someone so cool. But mostly of Lila.”
“Because?” 
“Because I like you, too,” you said, rolling your eyes at him. 
“Nice. Cool, that's great. I like that you like me, too. I like you, hey, I like us,” you cut off his rambling quickly with another small kiss and pulled away.
“So the picture?" You asked, backing away down the hall as he stood and watched you.
"Hmm?"
"The one in your desk."
"Oh," he said, scratching the back of his neck as the tips of his ears turned bright pink.
"Penelope gave me this picture from the Christmas party. It's, uh, me and you."
You smiled brightly before turning to leave, the bile of jealousy that had been consuming you turned magically to butterflies in the space of two kisses.
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alastor-simp · 8 months
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La Vie en Rose🌹 - Alastor X Reader
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Requested by @hitherethea
"Ugh FML!" Groaning out loud, your body was slowly making its way to somewhere quiet. Today was a very unlucky day, as there was many mishaps that left you feeling frustrated and emotionally drained. Earlier in the morning, you dropped a few plates while putting them away for Niffty. Niffty said it was fine and cleaned up the mess, but it left you feeling extremely guilty. After that incident, you were tasked with getting some groceries for the kitchen, only to being catcalled and nearly sexually harassed by some grotesque reptile demons once you started to head back to the hotel. Nothing happened to you physically, but god, why do some people have to be so gross?! Once you got back, your head got nearly speared by Vaggie on accident when you walked in through the door. She wasn't aiming for you thankfully, she was trying to hit Sir Pentious after he accidentally blasted her favorite ribbon with a laser gun. She grabbed the spear and ran away to catch Sir Pentious, yelling out an apology to you as she chased after a screaming snake slithering down the hallway.
Lord you couldn't catch a break. Your only place of sanctuary was the porch in your room. The view always helped you relaxed and the breeze was nice, despite the mass pollution in the air. Entering your room, you slowly made your way to the porch. The sky was covered in stars, but instead of pitch black, it was a dark vermilion. Well, this was Hell, so it was better then nothing. Heaving a sigh, you moved to one of the chairs on the porch and took a seat, throwing your head back as you tried to relax from the migraine that was starting to form. A few minutes went by as you continued to lean back in the chair, listening to the sounds of the cars screeching below and people yelling profanities at one another. "Why the long face my dear?" A static voice appeared next to your head, causing you to jolt and nearly fall off the chair. Looking up, you see a certain deer demon, leaning down due to his tall height, smiling like a jester at your reaction. "Not funny Al." Grumbling from your position, you got up and sat back properly in your seat. Alastor stood up to his normal position, and broke into a fit of laughter, probably still finding your reaction hilarious. "HAHA! Apologies, my dear! I didn't expect you to take a tumble!" He made his way over to the other chair and sat down, placing his microphone against the wall, before turning to you with his legs crossed and hands on his lap. Finding his response ridiculous, you rolled your eyes. "Yeah right. You enjoy scaring the crap out of everyone."
Shrugging his shoulders, he continued to stare at you, smiling widely. "Anyhoo! What seems to be troubling you, my dear?" Alastor asked you, as he continued to stare at you. His sharp smile turn to a more soft grin as he awaited your response. Sighing again, your eyes turn back to gaze at the view. "Not a very good day today. I made a mess for Niffty, almost got raped by some gross lizard-like demons when I left the grocery store, and then the icing on the cake was getting nearly speared by Vaggie from her chasing after Sir Pentious." Alastor continued to listen to you, his face changing a bit from slight sadness to extreme anger, especially when you mentioned the demons who tried to assault you. Looks like he has some hunting to do later. He may be a serial killer, but any inappropriate actions towards a lady infuriates him. Pushing his feelings of carnage away, he continued to stare at you. Your body was slouched on the chair as your eyes continued to stare at the sky. Instead of the kind smile you usually wore, it was replaced with a somber frown. Moving his hand slowly, he placed his clawed hand on your head, giving you a slight rub. He wasn't use to acts of affection, so this was the best he could offer. "Is there something I can do to make that frown of yours turn back into a smile?" Surprised by Al's words, you looked back at him. He was still smiling, but he was staring at you with kind eyes. You found it sweet that he wanted to cheer you up instead of leaving you alone in your negative emotions. Thinking long and hard about what you wanted, you came to a conclusion.
"Um, could you sing for me perhaps?" Al nearly froze at your request. Out of all the things you wanted, you wanted to hear him sing? Oh what a charming doll you were! Alastors smile grew tremendously, almost to the point it broke his face. Grabbing his microphone, he turned to you, positively joyful at your request. "My my! What an adorable request! Now then! What song would you like me to sing my dear? Request away!" Alastor was beaming at you. He was surprisingly cute like this, but you wouldn't tell him that. Any song? This was tough. You knew he was a fan of oldies and jazz and detested some music genres. Soon you came up with the perfect song for him to sing to you. Blushing at him, you looked away from him, twirling your hair with your fingers. "La vie en rose, please." Alastor was actually surprised at your choice, as he tilted his head. "Why that particular song, my dear?" You looked back at him, face flushed. "Well, I heard that you knew how to speak French, so I kinda wanted to see if it was true or not." Twiddling your fingers, you continued to stare at Al, who was still smiling. "Can you really? Speak French, I mean?" Alastor nodded his head: "Oui mon cher!" Oh no, that made your heart race. Al's voice was already amazing as it was, now you get to hear him sing to you in French?! Someone better pinch you to make sure this is not a dream.
Clearing his throat, Alastor adjusted his position, placing his mic in front of him, as he was preparing for his small performance for you.
youtube
(Credit to Paranoid Dj on Youtube for this awesome cover)
🎶𝑄𝑢𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑠
𝑄𝑢'𝑖𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑏𝑎𝑠
𝐽𝑒 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑒 𝑒𝑛 𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒
𝐼𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑡 𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑠 𝑑'𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑟
𝐷𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑠 𝑑𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑗𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠
𝑀𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑖, 𝑐̧𝑎 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑡 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑙𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒
𝐼𝑙 𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑒́ 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑚𝑜𝑛 𝑐œ𝑢𝑟
𝑈𝑛𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑑𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑢𝑟
𝐷𝑜𝑛𝑡 𝑗𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑎𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑎 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒
𝐶'𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑢𝑖 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑖, 𝑚𝑜𝑖 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑢𝑖 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑙𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑒
𝐼𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑙'𝑎 𝑑𝑖𝑡, 𝑙'𝑎 𝑗𝑢𝑟𝑒́ 𝑝𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑒
𝐸𝑡 𝑑𝑒̀𝑠 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑗𝑒 𝑙'𝑎𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑐̧𝑜𝑖𝑠
𝐴𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑠 𝑗𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑠 𝑒𝑛 𝑚𝑜𝑖
𝑀𝑜𝑛 𝑐œ𝑢𝑟 𝑞𝑢𝑖 𝑏𝑎𝑡🎶
Two words, HOLY S***! His voice was incredible! The whole time during his performance, you were blushing madly, but also it felt like all the frustration you were feeling before slowly diminished. Singing out the last of the lyrics, a sound of applause radiated from his microphone. "Enjoyed the performance, darling?" Alastor looked back at you, noticing your flushed face and wide eyes. "Darling?" Alastor tilted his head at you, confused at your reaction. Breaking from your trance, you started nodding rapidly. "Yes! I enjoyed your performance very much!" Satisfied that you enjoyed it, Alastor gave a nod, as he placed his microphone back to where he left it. Looking back at you, he raised his hand and grabbed your chin with his fingers. "Feeling better, chérie?" His ruby eyes gazed into yours, almost as if he was staring into your soul. Heat rose to your cheeks as you suspected you were as red as his hair. "Y-es I am. Thank you again Al." No longer feeling upset about the day, your emotions improved and you gave Al a warm smile. Humming with approval, Al still held your chin, but not before leaning closer to the point your noses were touching. "Wonderful my dear! Glad your smile has returned especially since you are never fully dressed without one! If you desire another performance in the future, seek me out."
Goosebumps began to form on your skin, as you continued to stare at Al. He is so close!!! Tongue-tied, you nodded your head. Pleased with your response, Al let go of your chin and stood up from the chair, adjusting his suit and hair. He remembered his previous mission, before he sang to you. Feelings of wrath and rage bubbled inside him, but he hid it as not to alarm you. "Well then! I have some business to attend to at the moment! Have a good evening my dear!" Alastor bid you a farewell, as he diminished in a black shadow, and disappeared from your eyes. Watching Al leave, you covered your face with your hands. It was true you were no longer feeling upset about today, but now you were starting to feel other emotions. Your heart was pounding and your palms were sweating. What was this feeling? It wasn't fear, cause you knew you weren't scared of Alastor, so what was it? Admiration? Or was it something else?
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twizzie-lairs · 7 months
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My Darling, My Honey
Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 13)
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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |
Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13
Part 13:
After practically being dragged by Vaggie back into the main lobby of the hotel with Alastor quietly humming behind the two of you, you were basically swarmed by Charlie, Angel, Husk and Nifty.
"WHERE WERE YOU? I was so scared!" Charlie barely manages to get out past the blubbering tears streaming down her face as she hugs you.
Angel examined your body with all of his arms, checking to make sure you were okay, "Geeze, toots, how'd you manage to survive that long against Smiles over there? I was sure you'd be dead meat!"
Husk gave you a glance up and down, "Glad you're alright. I'd hate to miss out on getting to know another drinking buddy." Husk glances over to Angel and grumbles under his breath, "You owe me $50."
"You were betting on if (y/n) was alive???" Vaggie groans, hands rubbing her face in exasperation.
Nifty is basically hyperventilating in your face, sniffing and examining your hair strand by strand, "Yup- still gross- EW!" Before she launches off your shoulders to go and do god knows what somewhere in some far corner of the hotel...
You let out a breathy chuckle, "I appreciate the concern... and the vote of confidence... Angel..." You give a sarcastic glare over in the spider's direction, earning a sheepish smile from Angel.
Taking Charlie's hands in your's, you take one of your hands to dry the tears from her eyes and say, "Charlie, you don't need to cry. You're such a sweet girl. I honestly can't thank you- and Vaggie-" you smile in Vaggie's direction before continuing, "- for saving my life and bringing me here to the Hazbin Hotel. I came here to find the love of my life- back from when I was alive. It's only been a few hours, yet you've already helped me fulfill the goal I've been trying to achieve for decades!"
Your words brought surprised looks upon Charlie, Angel, and Husk's faces.
Husk nearly dropped the glasses he was cleaning, "Uh.. Say what now?"
"Excuse me, but did you just say you found the love of your life... from when you were alive?? Who the hell-" Angel started to say before Alastor walked over put his hand on your shoulder,.
"Oh, you gotta be fuckin' kidding me." Husk interrupted Angel's sentence with the most deadpan yet exasperated voice he could muster.
"Wait... you mean... Freaky face has a fuckin' WIFE???" Angel yelled out in disbelief. "What the actual FUCK? I didn't think that guy was capable of love!"
"Ahem." Static noises became louder as Alastor glared in Angel's direction.
"Alright, alright, jesus, sorry! Husk, I need a drink."
"Already on it."
Meanwhile, Charlie just stood there as still as a statue from the shock. Until she suddenly started chuckling slowly, "Ah ha... hahaha... wait... really?" She brought her hands up to her mouth, trying to hide the huge grin that was slowly forming on her face.
You nodded, "Well, not quite wife haha... I was killed before he could propose..."
"Geeze, talk about grim.."
"Why, I do say that is quite enough from the peanut gallery!" Alastor piped up, menacingly twisting his head towards the bar where Angel and Husk were.
Charlie turned to Alastor, "How come you never mentioned you had someone special before?"
"Well my dear Charlie, I am a very private person, I do not often willingly divulge personal information about myself or my life back when I was alive."
"Oh." Charlie looked down at the ground dejectedly, thinking she was closer to Alastor than to be kept at such length still.
You patted Charlie's head, "Don't worry- I'll be happy to chat with you anytime! Though I don't know if you'll have fun hearing how I killed my husband- er- before Alastor. Maybe I'll have to settle for stories about my art career!" You chuckle smiling at her.
"Jesus, she IS crazy after all."
"Takes crazy to know crazy"
"Oh, shut up."
Charlie gasps, suddenly perking up, "Oh.. MY... GOSH!! Does this mean we get to host the very first wedding at our hotel??" She squeals and gives both you and Alastor the puppy-eye look.
You link your arm through Alastor's and look up at him with an inquisitive look.
"Ahaha! Why, if it is what my dear (y/n) desires, then that is what we shall do!"
You grin and bring your left hand up and hold it out to Charlie, "We already have the rings!"
Charlie blinks blankly and her mouth hangs open holding your hand to examine the ring on your hand. Vaggie leans over to look as well, "I honestly don't know I missed that..."
After staring at the ring for a while, Charlie smacks Vaggie's arm a bunch before squeezing her in a big embrace- the sounds of her squealing excitedly filled the room.
"WE HAVE A WEDDING TO PLAN!!!!!"
-> Part 14 - Final
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toournextadventure · 15 days
Text
a cold reunion
Summary: Astrid hasn't visited her mother's old house in a while. She wonders if someone new has moved in by now. Maybe it'll be a "ghost," like her mother claims used to live there. Ha. She would be so lucky.
Word Count: 3.3k Warnings: mentions of death, Tim Burton style tones Pairing: Astrid Deetz x Reader A/N: I know absolutely nothing about this movie, only the original, so I'm just gonna have some fun with it
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Being a Deetz was one of the most irritating parts of life. At least, it was in Astrid’s opinion. Even without her own uncommon interests, she was held to the standards of her mother. Because her mother was weird, everyone assumed she was too. Which she was, but it wasn’t fair she couldn’t make that statement for herself.
She used to have a friend. You had been new to town and hadn’t known anything about her mother. It led to a wonderful friendship. Her favourite classes were the ones you had together, and eventually, she invited you over outside of school. Everyone thought you were crazy to agree, but you never faltered.
Even her mother and grandmother liked you, saying you were a “good kid.” Astrid knew better, you were trouble. Always in detention or being scolded by teachers in the hallways. You were anything but a good kid when it came to following the rules. But she wouldn’t deny, you definitely sweet talked your way into her mother’s and grandmother’s good graces.
You had done the same to her, pulling her in until she didn’t want to leave. The first kiss had been under the bleachers at a football game; disgustingly cliche. You had tasted of the cigarettes you stole from your mom. A disgusting taste, but it was good on you.
But as soon as she really started to like you - a little more than like, she would admit - you disappeared. You hadn’t been at school that morning, and when she went to your mom’s work, she had said she didn’t know where you were. Said it was no surprise you left; you could do better than this town.
That had been two years ago. Your mom had left town not long after your disappearance. Everyone assumed she had done something to you; a suspicion that came from the simple fact that your mom was, as the town called it, “trailer trash.” She was a nice person, Astrid had always liked her. She didn’t blame the woman for leaving.
Even Astrid had left for college once school was over. What else was she going to do, stay put? No, she wanted to get started somewhere else. Somewhere she wouldn’t be saddled with the name Deetz like it was some kind of curse. She loved her mother more than she would ever care to admit. But she wanted to do something for herself.
It was winter break before she came back home.
“Leaving already?” Her mother called from the porch when she grabbed her bike and started walking it to the street. “You haven’t even been here for three hours.”
“I’m going to check on the house,” Astrid said with a shrug. “I heard the owners moved out.”
“They did, thank god,” her grandmother said. “They did that house no justice.”
Bold coming from you, Astrid thought but kept her mouth shut.
“Don’t stay out too late,” her mother said.
“Lydia dear, when you were her age, you were almost marrying a ghost,” her grandmother said. “Consider it karma.”
“Mom,” her mother sighed.
Astrid had already hopped on her bike and started down the street. The path to the old house was well-worn; everyone knew it. The old owners had tried their best to convince everyone the house wasn’t haunted, but most of the town didn’t believe it. At least none of the school kids. They had jumped at the opportunity to have a haunted house in town whether it was real or not.
You had always liked that old house. No one had ever fully convinced you that ghosts had lived there, but you liked the thrill of it. I don’t think they’re real, but what if? You had asked one night after sneaking in through her window. We should check it out one day. After you disappeared, she had avoided the house like the plague.
But Astrid knew the path by heart. Snow had been plowed from the streets, and the dutiful citizens had shoveled the bridge. When she approached said bridge, she slowed until she could get off the bike, walking it across instead of riding. Her mother had made it clear that under no circumstances was she to ride or drive over the bridge. It was a silly rule; she followed it anyway.
The house was more run down than usual. It shouldn’t have upset her as much as it did. After all, it wasn’t like she had really ever lived in the house anyway. But it was still part of everything she had known growing up. To see it practically falling apart was… well, it was nothing short of devastating.
Without taking her eyes off of the house, she propped her bike up by its kickstand and slowly made her way to the front door. Step by step, each stair creaked under her weight. The house was a little creepy. Maybe it would be best if she just didn’t go in. After all, the door was practically falling off the hinge, if she actually knocked it would-
-the door swung inwards.
And you were standing there in the doorway with your eyes wide. You looked like you had seen a ghost.
“What are you doing here?” Astrid asked quietly.
You exhaled harshly, shoulders sagging with the movement.
“Want some tea?”
—---
Astrid looked as beautiful as the day you had left. Well, no, you hadn’t exactly left but… no, that was something you would face later. For the moment, you were going to enjoy seeing her again. It hadn’t been long, but she had grown into her own. Beautiful as always, too.
And way too quiet for your liking.
“Chamomile okay?” You asked when the kettle was near screaming.
She nodded once, not removing her eyes from you. It was unsettling; you had used to love it. Astrid wasn’t like normal girls, and not in the “too cool for school” kind of way. It was more of an “I’ll be me whether anyone likes it or not” kind of way. If she wanted to be weird and goth then she would and no one could stop her!
But you didn’t like how she was looking at you.
You placed the teabag in the mug and slid it in front of her. The kettle was only seconds away from screaming when you pulled it off the stove. No need to burst anyone’s eardrums. There was no point in being careful with the scalding water as you poured it into her mug.
“You disappeared,” Astrid said while you were mid-pour.
“About that,” you hummed.
“Does your mom know?” She continued. “That you’re right back where you started?”
Your mom. Momma. She had been left all alone after… how had she fared? Were the townspeople nice to her? They had better be, or you would personally bring hell to every single one of them.
“What does she think happened to me?” You asked as you turned around and placed the kettle back on the stove. You didn’t turn back around.
“What everyone else thinks,” Astrid said, “that you ran off.”
“Was she okay?”
“Honestly?” She asked. “She said she was glad you got out of this little town. Said you were too good for it anyway.”
Well that… that almost hurt worse than knowing she never knew the truth. Your momma hadn’t been perfect, but she had done the best with what she had. Time and time again, she had told you in her drunken stupor that you were destined for great things. You had always taken it to heart.
You need to tell her.
“Hey, Astrid?” You asked with a weak voice.
She hummed for you to continue.
“Remember in school when we would say we didn’t believe in ghosts?”
“Yeah, why?”
With a sigh, you turned to look over your shoulder. Astrid’s head was tilted slightly in that way you always found cute. It didn’t click just yet. She just kept looking at you, waiting for you to continue. You raised your brows at her. She was almost there, you could tell by the slight crinkle in her nose, and- ah, there it was.
“You’re joking,” she said.
You gave her your best tight-lipped “white person” smile but otherwise didn’t answer.
“You saw one?” She asked.
Oh. Oh, no, she didn’t get it.
“Well, yes,” you said, turning your full body so you could lean back against the stove and look at her, “but that’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are-” there it is “-oh.”
There was something in her eyes when realisation dawned. Her eyes, while a gorgeous dark brown, were usually so bright. So happy, even when she was trying to act like she didn’t care about the world around her. But this was different. Any brightness dimmed to practically nothing.
“How?” She asked.
You shrugged and looked away. “The football team pushed me off the bridge.”
It wasn’t a fond memory, that was for sure. The icy layer covering the river had been rather sharp. But even that hadn’t compared to the pain of inhaling freezing water deep into your lungs. From what you could remember, it was slow. A memory you didn’t enjoy having, but maybe one day it would go away.
“You were murdered?” Astrid asked incredulously; horrifically.
“I mean listen, it’s not too bad,” you attempted to play it off. “It got me out of taking winter finals, which we both know I would’ve failed.”
“But it’s-”
“-I know, Astrid,” you interrupted.
You liked Astrid. You would even go so far as to say you loved her, mostly probably. Were you young? Sure. A little stupid and naive? Absolutely. High school sweethearts? You would say so, yeah. But she instigated a little too much, and she wanted to know everything, but this just wasn’t really something you wanted to indulge her in. Not yet, anyway.
Astrid was quiet for a moment. The gears were turning in her head, you could practically smell the smoke coming off them. What was she thinking, you wondered. Was she dwelling on the fact that you had died, cold and slow and alone? You certainly hoped not, it wouldn’t change anything. You were dead, you were now a ghost, and long-distance relationships weren’t that hard any more thanks to technology, so you could both still make it work!
If she wanted, of course.
“I thought my mom said her ghosts were stuck in the house for, like, a century or something,” she said instead.
You laughed. That was much easier to answer. “I told their caseworker I’d take their place. You know, let them rest in peace, or whatever,” you waved your hands vaguely.
“Caseworker?”
“It’s a long story.”
“So you’re why the previous owners left?” She asked.
“Guilty as charged.” You wiggled your fingers in her direction and smiled.
For the first time all day, she smiled back. God, you missed her smile.
“If you really are a ghost,” she said with a tilt of her head, “how can you pick things up?”
“Ooh, we’re getting to the fun questions,” you said with a smile.
The look on Astrid’s face was perfect. Curious, distrusting. The best mix of emotions; you loved when she was uncertain. It was a more genuine look for her, instead of trying to act like she knew everything and always knew what to expect. Always made her look super cute, honestly.
You walked over to where she was sitting at the run-down table. She turned to keep facing you until you were standing directly in front of her. It was going to be a risk, but one you were very much willing to take. Worst case, you stay stuck in the stupid house forever. No different from your current predicament.
“Took me a few months to really get the hang of it,” you said. Her eyes sparkled again. “You just focus on what you want to touch,” she blushed, “and voila.”
Her blush vanished when you picked up the mug beside her. What you really wanted to do was touch her. Gods, you wanted to know if you could still feel her warmth, the softness of her skin. But it wasn’t time. No, she was probably still worried about the fact that you had… well, you know. Died.
“It took you months to figure out how to do that?” She asked with a cheeky smile.
“Shut up,” you huffed, placing the mug back on the table. “It wasn’t like I had much to work with.”
“Why didn’t you ask my mom’s old friends how to do it?” Astrid asked before leaning back against the table. “I’m sure they would’ve helped you.”
“Never actually had the pleasure of meeting them,” you said with a shrug. “I only got to meet the other guy.”
“The other guy?” She asked, looking away in thought for a moment before looking back at you. “Oh, you mean Beetlegeu-”
-you slapped your hand over her mouth before she could continue.
“Don’t say it,” you whispered.
She nodded once, and you pulled your hand away.
“Was he really that awful?” She asked, matching your tone.
“He was that annoying,” you grumbled. “God, I swore the guy would never shut up.”
Astrid did her little crooked smile and laugh. The one that you would always try your best to force out of her during class to get her in trouble. Wait, that sounded bad. You didn’t want her to get in trouble, you just would have enjoyed her presence in detention. With you.
“So what else did you take two years to learn?” Astrid asked. She leaned forward until she was so close you could smell her shampoo. “Anything exciting?”
Wait. Wait, this could be your chance. You might be able to do something about it, this could be your shot. Two years in limbo, sitting in a run down house that did nothing but remind you of Astrid with everything you saw. It was her family’s house. You couldn’t leave her even if you had wanted to.
“Well,” you said, “there is something I’ve been wanting to test out.” You looked up to meet her eyes. “May I?”
“Let’s see what you got, ghosty,” she said.
You nodded to yourself and focused. Focused on her body, more specifically her face. Her stunning, beautiful, gorgeous, smiling face. Day after day, you had been thinking of her, and you had hoped time and time again that somehow she would come back to the house.
One deep inhale, hold your breath. Your hands were shaking so badly you would have dropped everything had you been holding something in the first place. And yet, Astrid didn’t budge when you lifted your hands and placed them on either side of her face. Exhale.
Her body was absent of warmth. Astrid had never been an exceptionally warm individual to begin with but this was… different. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell her that you couldn’t feel her. Sure, you could touch things, but you couldn’t feel any of it. It wasn’t something you could describe, except calling it surreal.
“May I?” You asked again.
You could feel her breath on your lips even as she nodded. It was all you needed to pull her into a kiss. There was still no warmth, but there was a… a comfort in it. In feeling her lips against yours again after so long. To feel her breath mix with yours, replacing everything you didn’t need but you so desperately craved.
Her hands attempted to settle on your hips but fell straight through. In turn, you felt her shoulders sag as she placed her hands on your knees instead. That was… not a nice feeling. Maybe you could learn to focus enough to let her feel you back. That was possible, right? Surely it was.
You pulled away slowly. If you could have stayed kissing her for the rest of your century in that hellhole, you would have. But unfortunately, Astrid still had to breathe, and you had to give her the space to do it. Earlier you had questioned if you had really loved her or if it was a puppy love?
Oh no. It was the real deal.
“You can’t leave at all?” Astrid asked. “Not even for an hour or so?”
“You mean the haunted house isn’t romantic?” You teased.
“What do you even do in here all day every day?” She asked.
Once again, she reached out to touch you. Somewhere, anyway. You looked down at where she was attempting to hold your hand. Maybe if you could focus really hard, it would work. As far as you knew, you couldn’t materialise. At least, you didn’t think you could. But if you really concentrated.
Her fingers slipped between yours and, for the first time in two years, you felt her squeeze your hand. Physical touch. Real physical touch.
“I, ah,” you stammered, looking down at where she was still holding your hand. “It’s in my contract to scare people.”
“Contract?” She asked. Your arm moved as she pulled you closer. Okay, maybe physical touch was a bit unfamiliar to you after so long, you would need to get used to it again.
“My caseworker says I have a quota to meet,” you said, finally looking back up to meet her eyes. “So many people each quarter, you know?”
“So you need people to scare?” She asked. “On a regular basis.”
There was a sparkle in her eye. Something dangerous; scandalous.
“You have something in mind?” You asked with a tilt of your head.
Her smile was vicious. And attractive.
—---
The house looked beautiful in the daylight. The paint was fresh, the inside was cosy, and when nighttime fell? Rumour had it the ghosts came out to play. That was why most people rented out the house; their own private haunting for a night. The listing said if you could survive the night, the stay was free. So far, no one had lasted long enough to even give it a good shot.
And as you stood at the end of the bed watching the young couple sprint down the stairs screaming, you knew they wouldn’t be the winners either.
You walked over to the window and watched as they threw their singular bag into their car and peeled out of the dirt driveway. It hadn’t even been any fun, they hadn’t given you any time to actually scare them. Hell, all you had done was stand at the bed! You hadn’t made any faces, hadn’t pulled any jumpscares, you had simply stood there.
Were you really that scary?
“Gone already?” Astrid asked in a sleepy voice as she walked to stand beside you at the window.
“Didn’t even stay long enough for me to have any fun,” you pouted.
“Well, you’ve hit your quota,” she said. She grabbed your arm and pulled it over her shoulder before tucking closer to your body. After a few months, you were finally starting to feel a bit of warmth from her.
At least, you thought you did.
“Your mom is coming by in the morning?” You asked.
She hummed her confirmation.
“Maybe I can try to scare her, then,” you said.
Astrid pulled you away from the window and started walking you toward your shared bedroom. Not that you really needed the sleep, but it was nice to be able to lay next to her. It was exhausting to keep a more physical form, but for her? You would do it all day every day.
“Good luck scaring her,” Astrid said as she pulled you onto the bed. “She practically grew up with ghosts.”
“I’ll scare your grandmother then,” you said softly, but she didn’t move.
Astrid was already asleep in your arms, just like you had always imagined. Maybe being dead really wasn’t as awful as everyone had always made it seem. After all, it got you your dream girl.
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hueseok · 3 months
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( 16. ) A LOVER’S KISS.
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a friends with benefits relationship never ends on a good note. unless, both parties are not dumb fucks who find themselves falling for each other along the way of their agreement, of course.
and in yours and jeongguk’s case, you should have known better than to think the two of you would be an exception to the so-called curse of being friends with benefits with someone you already hold dear to you, since not even five months since it was agreed upon—the line between being only friends and being a little like lovers only continue to get hazier and hazier.
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━ jeongguk x reader ━ 4.1k words. ━ 18+ ━ smut | angst | fluff | friends with benefits au | idiots to lovers au | college au | yearning? pining? | ft. swimmer!jeongguk, editor-in-chief!reader (small appearances from swimmer!jimin & associate editor!taehyung) ━ warning/s: swearing
note. no smut for this part, but i’m keeping the rating 18+ and have the smut label above since this drabble series overall isn’t suitable for minors !!
[ chapter index. ]
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EPISODE 16. the one with a lover’s kiss !
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jeongguk couldn’t sleep the night before the competition.
it’s not the first time this happened, of course. one can guess that he should be used to it at this point due to the nerves and the pressure and his desire to do great for the sake of the university’s reputation and for his own reputation as well (and maybe because of the expectations of his coach too who often wasn’t that kind in order to push him to the farthest of his limits). 
however, as made apparent by you before you attended class earlier, he didn’t just have the game to keep in mind for tomorrow, no—because as you have explained to him and cruelly reiterated when he called you a few minutes ago just for the purpose of hearing your voice before he tried to sleep—tomorrow was also going to be the day in which you were going to tell him your decision on whether you were willing to fully take him back again or not after the whirlwind of events that happened to your relationship these past weeks.
he wanted to believe that he had a good chance in winning you back; he wanted to confidently say that there was perhaps no way you would reject him, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up too high either. god knows how much that could hurt once you give him your answer and it turns out to be the opposite of what he was guessing. though a part of him was already convinced that surely, you wouldn’t have entertained his sweet gestures this week since making up if it wasn’t going to lead to you taking him back, right?
right? 
you possibly couldn’t be that brutal.
though in your defense, he didn’t think he had the right to be angry if leading him on was your plan all along. truth be told, he has been both intentionally and unintentionally brutal to you before to have the nerve to complain, that if you were going to take this opportunity to get the revenge you wanted, then he should just be a man about it and accept it the way it is.
***
“i don’t see her.”
jeongguk couldn’t breathe. he took a dramatic inhale to calm himself and regulate his heartbeat. “anywhere? you don’t see her with the guys and just—somewhere in the bleachers, maybe?”
“nope.” jimin glanced at him. “why? is ____ not coming? haven’t you two made up already? don’t tell me you did something stupid again.”
“we’re fine.” he rolled his eyes, slightly unsettled by his own statement. “it’s just important that she’s here.”
“yeah, i know, she’s your lucky charm, blah blah blah.”
“it’s not that.” jeongguk huffed. “well, it’s a part of it, but it’s bigger than that. is it wrong for me to want to try and find her before the competition begins?”
“yeah, coach would kill you if he doesn’t find you here when he arrives, so i advise you to just chill and be patient. maybe she’s just running a bit late.”
“yeah, you’re right. i’m just paranoid, am i?”
“what are you even exactly paranoid about?” jimin asked.
jeongguk frowned. talking about it out loud made it too real, and he preferred not to do it because of that, but he figured that he should at least tell someone about it if he wanted more insight perhaps. at least jimin has been a far better partner to yebin than jeongguk ever was to you to not be the person suitable to talk about this with. “she said if she doesn’t attend, that means she’s dumping me.”
jimin’s eyes widened in genuine surprise. “really? i never thought ____ had it in her.”
“she made it clear that she’s not going to see me anymore if i don’t see her today. i’m practically on the verge of death right now—or the start of my emo boy era.”
 jimin snorted. “didn’t you already go through that phase?”
“no, i haven’t.”
“yeah, you have. you’ve been moping for a few solid weeks when you and her weren’t okay. can’t say that you don’t deserve it. after what you did, you realize that it’s fair for her to play you around a bit, right?”
jeongguk wanted to strangle jimin sometimes because of his bluntness and desire to always tease the hell out of the people he’s close with (which unfortunately included jeongguk). but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that it was good to have a friend like him who could slap the facts in your face in order for you to see the truth and the implication of your actions—and be sometimes funny with it, for that matter.
“is it really?” jeongguk asked.
“well… i mean, it is in a way that you should see how lucky you are that you’re going to get your answer straight away. if i was her, i would have dragged this winning her back thing for a whole year before dropping the bomb that maybe we should just stay friends.”
“you seriously can’t be that cruel, jimin.”
“i could be, if someone really fucked me up.” he laughed. “but ____ isn’t like that. and i know she has strong feelings for you too. so maybe the best course of action now is to just trust what she decides for the both of you and live with it.”
this wasn’t the pep talk that jeongguk was expecting to receive before the tournament.
“and what am i supposed to do if she doesn’t come and that means we’re really over?” he questioned again.
jimin sighed. “then i guess you just have to go back to your emo tendencies and move on.”
***
the first time jeongguk personally asked if you could go to one of his matches, you and him weren’t secretly sleeping with each other yet. you were still in that weird phase of being great friends when you have the rest of the gang with you, but suddenly being really quiet and awkward with each other when it was just you two. he never even thought of inviting you alone when it came to his scheduled races, believing that he was doing the both of you a favor by not putting yourselves in a situation wherein you and him will just fall back to the usual cringeworthy interactions that will lead him physically wincing whenever he remembered them.
but that time, you overheard his conversation with taehyung who was apologizing that he couldn’t come for his match that weekend because of a project he needed to work on, and jeongguk, upon hearing him explain, visibly expressed his disappointment at the news because he wanted a friend to be there just so they could take a proper picture and video for him that he could look back after (if it wasn’t mentioned yet, jeongguk was obsessed with always doing a better performance than his last).
“i can go,” you volunteered before, your eyes focused still on the monitor inside the campus publication office but your ears were paying attention to them. “i’m free this saturday.”
jeongguk looked at you afterwards with a look that showed absolute hesitance. he was thankful that you weren’t peering at him to notice. “oh. you sure, ____? i wouldn’t want to bother you.”
“it’s fine.” you flickered your gaze to him. “though, if you don’t want me to be there, that’s totally okay too—”
“what? don’t be ridiculous.” a very very awkward chuckle tumbled out of jeongguk’s lips, one that taehyung furrowed his eyebrows at because of how fake it sounded. “why wouldn’t i want you to be there? of course you can come. i’d be really glad if you do.”
he didn’t know what response he was expecting, but you grinned, nodding in an skeptical manner, and then returned to what you were doing like nothing happened. jeongguk decided to face taehyung again afterwards, the latter staring at him with a similar dubious yet funny look, but he punched his arm and opted to flee from the office, muttering that he was going to be late for class if he stayed any longer.
fast forward to when the tournament came and he finished first place, he was ecstatic, brimming with pride because of his accomplishment—and when he met you outside the locker room to thank you for really coming and taking shots of him that he would review that night, he was a bit startled when you congratulated him with a tight hug, not used to that kind of affection from you.
sure, he always knew you were sweet to your close friends. you were like that to goeun, taehyung, and haru.
to him, though? that was the first.
“i’m so proud of you, guk!” you told him, the smile on your face so bright that he thought he might have to squint to look at you properly. “this is your first win of the season, right?”
jeongguk nodded. “yeah, i think it is.”
from that point forward, things weren’t so awkward between the both of you. your friendship solidified further when he asked if you wanted to help him with something at his uncle’s newly built restaurant, and you agreed, recognizing the same newfound comfort he was beginning to feel that you were eager to foster it more because it didn’t sit right with you how you were alright with everyone else and yet weird with him.
now, he didn’t want to think of the possibility of things being like that again. he barely survived not talking to you that much during the soomi fiasco and the period wherein he purposely avoided you to not cause any more damage than he had after the confrontation. it was one of the driving forces why he made up his mind in truly pursuing you—the realization that he wasn’t fond of the idea of not being able to talk to you every single day, of not being able to tell you the most random things and be certain that you would always know what to say next.
entering the natatorium, jeongguk didn’t appear as if he was hiding the fact that he was searching for you among the crowd. he already quickly spotted taehyung, haru, and goeun at their spot (you weren’t there), and then he tried searching for yebin, hoping that you decided to accompany her instead this time to create some kind of suspense (you still weren’t there when he saw her). so, all he could do after was let his eyes explore the whole venue as fast as he could, his heart hammering harder at every instance he failed to find you.
was this going to be the end of it all?
were you not coming?
was yesterday the final moment he got to hold you?
“guk,” his coach abruptly called his attention, “take your jacket off. it’s about to start,” he said, noticing jeongguk’s stiff posture as he stood there at the starting platform, immobile while the other players he was competing against were already removing their clothes.
jeongguk took one long scan again.
he still couldn’t see you.
and although he has yet to dive into the water, it felt as if he lost the ability to swim and was drowning to the bottom of the pool.
***
“congratulations!”
jeongguk could at least afford them a genuine smile as taehyung, haru, and goeun pulled him for a group hug. they simultaneously and continuously patted his back, the two boys doing it in a harsh manner to annoy the hell out of him that jeongguk had to groan and shove them off to prevent them from doing further damage to his aching body, though not without laughing and muttering his thanks for both being here and congratulating him.
“you did great back there,” haru said with a proud grin. “you’re definitely going to be the cover of the next issue again with the victory. i doubt i have to get ____’s approval just to make that happen.”
at the mention of your name, jeongguk’s attempt to seem fine crumbled a little. it didn’t go ignored by the rest of the gang with him; although they weren’t aware of the deal you and jeongguk had, they could understand that your absence today meant that something was wrong.
goeun cleared her throat, the silence insufferable that she couldn’t resist finally speaking up. “well, uh, haru mentioned that he’s also treating us today.” she placed an arm around haru’s shoulders, tiptoeing and struggling in the process. “right, ru?”
haru glanced at her. “i am?”
“you are.” taehyung chimed in, linking his arms with haru as if to lock him in. “you said you would if jeongguk wins first place.”
“i did?” haru’s tone remained confused.
jeongguk had to chuckle at their dumb effort to lighten the mood again. it was obvious that no conversation which involved haru saying that he was going to treat them later if jeongguk indeed won occurred. 
“don’t worry,” jeongguk said to haru, “i already messaged my uncle about the win and he’s gonna cook for us at the restaurant.”
“thank god.” haru exhaled a relieved breath. “because i do not have enough money right now to pay for all of us.” he glared at goeun.
“sorry, but someone had to say something,” she muttered.
“and you thought saying that i was going to treat everybody was the perfect thing to mention?” asked haru.
her shoulders lifted up in a shrug. “you’re the most generous out of us three.”
“no, he’s not,” taehyung butted in, “i think that title goes to me.”
“is it?” goeun asked. “you’re probably the most frugal of us all.”
“sensible is the right term for that,” defended taehyung.
jeongguk was about to join in the banter, to divert the teasing towards taehyung more as some sort of payback for the back slaps he got earlier, but just as he was opening his mouth to get a sentence out, he saw you coming into view.
you were here.
you came.
but you were late. what did that mean?
“____,” jeongguk breathed out.
the group automatically shut up, whirling around to see where jeongguk was staring at.
he was very much tempted to run to you, but his knees stayed put, somehow frozen in place. a part of him perhaps knew that talking to you immediately might be the wrong choice. he was afraid that the reason why you arrived late today was because you were still planning to reject him, that you were just being nice about it by doing it in person instead of text—but that was more cruel, in his opinion. he rather you don’t see his face when give him the news that you’re not willing to be with him again.
“hey,” you said, looking directly at him before diverting your attention to the rest of the crew. “you guys mind if guk and i speak alone?”
a pause.
“yeah, it’s cool.” haru was the first one to say, followed by taehyung, and then goeun.
“thanks.” you smiled.
they awkwardly shuffled and made their way to the exit of the locker room. they gave one last look to jeongguk just as they disappeared into the hallway, as if they were wishing him luck or reassuring him that everything was going to be okay, and looked at you too, as if they were sending a similar message that translated more into ‘please don’t break his heart or else this friend group might turn weird’.
when they were gone and definitely out of earshot, jeongguk finally had the courage to take a step forward. “____,” your name tumbled out of his lips again, “what are you—”
“i told you so,” you cut him off. you were going to lead this conversation, you made that mental note to yourself earlier prior to leaving your place, and you were going to say everything you had to say to him that maybe you never had the courage to do so in the past. “you didn’t need me here to win.”
he frowned. “winning is the last thing on my mind today, honestly.”
“that’s not a good mindset for an athlete.”
“it isn’t.”
you pursed your lips. “still, you won.”
“i guess, i did, huh?”
“without me there too.”
“yeah, you already said so.” although he didn’t appear resentful, he sounded bitter. “are you going to keep repeating that because you want to prove that even without you, i’ll be okay?”
“that wasn’t my intention.”
“then what is your intention exactly? i thought you said that if you didn’t come today, then that would mean that you’re not willing to give me a second chance.”
“and yet… i’m here, guk.”
he raised his eyebrows. “you are, but you were… you’re late.”
“because i chickened out.”
“you chickened out?”
you moved forward and sat on the empty bench across him. it was a lot easier to pour your heart out when doing that was only done through your imagination. “i was supposed to be here earlier. it’s just, uh, i… i’ve been—i’ve been stalling.”
it was true. you were adamant last night that you were going to give him a second chance. you were confident that for the past few days, regardless of how short the span was, jeongguk managed to prove to you that he was serious in wanting to commit to a real relationship with you. you saw that in the manner he always looked after you, in the manner he made time for you, in the manner he didn’t shy away from showing you affection when he felt like it—you were convinced that even though he never said it out loud, he really liked you, because the things he did… you were positive that you didn’t just do that to someone you didn’t like.
but you were also really fucking scared. it dawned to you last night (while you were overthinking everything and talking to yourself) that it indeed hasn’t been that long and that you were being too easy again for jeongguk; you were laying yourself out to him without him struggling that much. and why? because you loved him, of course. because you were afraid that if you prolonged this, he would give up and you were going to be alone and hurt once more.
“hey.” jeongguk placed his hands over yours as he knelt in front of you, hair wet and expression sincere; you didn’t notice him walk towards where you were, you were too preoccupied in your thoughts again to catch it. “you don’t have to…” he struggled with what he was going to say, mostly because it wasn’t what he wanted to happen, “you don’t have to give me a second chance if you’re not up for it.”
“really?”
his heart dropped. it was only a hypothetical statement; he didn’t expect you to bite the idea.
“um…” he tried to speak, realizing that acting like a martyr isn’t part of his portfolio, but he was willing to act one right now to not make this harder for you. “i mean… it’ll suck ass, and i’ll probably cry for months, and i’ll beg you first not to date anyone else while we’re still studying in the same university—but after that, after i stop being a big baby about it,  i’ll…”
“you’ll what?” you were waiting for what he was going to tell you next. the corners of your mouth were turned slightly upwards at the hint of playfulness in his tone.
he scooted closer to you. fuck his knee; the high probability of it being bruised if he stays kneeled on the ground was the least of his worries. “i’ll stay by your side and i’ll try harder until you get tired of me. it’s what i told you the other day, didn’t i? i won’t ask you to be gentle with my feelings—i’ll let you torture me and walk me around like a dog. i’ll follow you wherever you’ll go, just patiently waiting ‘til you decide i’m worth your time. i’ll let you hurt my feelings, ____, because between us two, i know that it’s my heart that deserves a pretty good beating.”
you snorted at how dramatic his speech sounded. “hurting you is far from what i want. i’m not that sadistic.”
“then what is it that you want?”
“you.”
jeongguk couldn’t stop the smile from conquering his features. he got the answer he wanted to hear. “i want you too.”
“i don’t mean that in a horny way, okay?” you quickly clarified and he had the strength now to laugh. “i want you to be here for me—all the time—is what i mean. i want you to continue being my best friend, and i also want you to kiss me whenever you feel like it. i want you to annoy the shit out of me, i want you to hug me, i want you to volunteer to do the most random stuff just to help me, and i want you to keep proving that you want us to work, guk. i want you to always remind me that it’s safe to let my guard down and give you my 100% all the time.”
“i’ll do that, if that’s what you want,” he promised. “you can trust me, babe. you can even exceed that 100% and make it 200 or a thousand—” your laughter echoed in the locker room.
jeongguk joined you, laughing as well, but as he did, it was also sinking in that what happened between the both of you left a huge mark that made it difficult for you to trust him. he couldn’t blame you, no, not after what he did, and he was eager to change that. he was optimistic that he could do that—because he knew it inside him that he has strong feelings for you. he could even say that he loved you and it would feel right.
“i’m sorry for being late,” you said.
he shook his head. “don’t be. i kind of deserved it.”
“well, you’re not wrong.”
“wow. you’re not a sadist, huh?”
you snickered; jeongguk grinned. he thought that he could stay in this moment forever, just you and him staring at each other, this unexplainable yet gooey feeling in your chests making it seem like everything was going to turn out fine.
and then he asked, “can i kiss you?”
your eyebrows rose. you remembered the last time he asked you that, when you were both in the middle of sex and you were hesitant to grant him that kiss because you were afraid of the repercussions that would soon come after once you did. yet, thinking more about the moment, he didn’t really ask you before, really; it was more like a demand, a plea, and it was different from what he was doing right now because despite appearing like he could beg just to get that kiss, it was still so sincere and was done out of—
love.
love? he hasn’t said that out loud before. you didn’t want to assume. but the way he was gazing at you…
you placed your palms on his cheeks while he didn’t hesitate in extending his arms so that they were circled around your waist, pulling you closer that unconsciously caused you to open your legs to make space for his upper body. 
“doesn’t your knee hurt?” you whispered.
jeongguk pressed his lips together. “it’s tolerable.”
there you were again, with that infectious laugh, leading jeongguk to be tempted further to just kiss you without waiting for an answer. “okay, guk.”
he gave you a questioning look.
you rolled your eyes. “yeah. you can kiss me. but if you do...” you trailed, “that would mean that you’re taking the lucky opportunity of being my boyfriend.”
“i’ll make sure to thank you every day for that wonderful honor.” he allowed himself to push forward and kiss your lips. it was what he was dying to do for the past week; it wasn’t enough that he was only close to you or had the permission to hug you every now and then—his body craved to have you close, not in a manner that was horny like disclaimed just seconds ago too, but for all the reasons that you illustrated as well. 
kissing you gave him the signal that you were close. and god, did he always want you close.
“i’ll be better,” he murmured, kissing you continously. “i’ll treat you better, ____.”
you didn’t answer. you just smiled and kissed him further.
when for the past months, having your mouth on his was the thing you had to avoid the most, finally having the liberty to do it now just drove you to do it over and over again.
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note. hehe surprise? this update took so long that i think it took two whole damn years before i got the motivation to write again and finish this 😭 apologies for that lmao. life has been a whirlwind but since i'm now in a much happier state, i decided to try continuing this and i'm glad that it ended up with me finally concluding the story :D
honestly, i'm not too sure if got the vibes / essence of the story still since i haven't touched this mini series in such a long time. nonetheless, i did reread it and i hope that i brought justice to what you might have thought the ending was going to be! (also, i might edit this later on for improvement bc i just realized that my writing perhaps did not improve lmao but for now, this is what i can only offer >.<)
as always, THANK YOU FOR READING & FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED ! ♡(ˆ‿ˆԅ)
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taglist (1/3): @fan-ati--c @marknee @sexymenandcuteanimals101 @jiminisnotavirgin @joondala @afangirllikeme-blog @jxxvk @this-is-seriousbusinesz @swga-ficrecs @apollukee @bloopkook @jaerisdiction @thisartemisnevermisses @koolvrr @wearenot7withu @brilliantmoon7 @naturules @betysotelo18 @jinyoungie0922 @codeinebelle @minimoni7 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @moonchild1 @taeshuworld @daydreambrliever @lilyflowerguk @rjsmochii @namjeonii @drownforryou @sugapiie @emeriroth @xius-exos @sw33tnight @lunaoceanchild @outropjmm @dojacandy @brit97 @abyjil @haruharux23 @haniiii @callmejimmeo @itsalyssa15 @hinawariinoue97 @libra04 @gukkmoans (striked means tumblr won’t let me tag them!)
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421 notes · View notes
starlessea2 · 2 months
Text
That It Is (Astarion)
Pairing: Astarion x Reader [Baldur's Gate 3]
Summary: After a long day trudging through the sunlit wetlands, you discover your bedroll is waterlogged, and that Astarion has lost his in the swamp... AKA, the classic: ‘oh no, there’s one bed, whatever shall we do, darling?’ (Act 1 spoilers).
A/N This one has a tad more enemies-to-lovers vibe to it, but sweetness nonetheless. 
Masterlist
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Night was creeping over Faerûn.
After a day of toiling through the deep murk of the sunlit wetlands, your party had found refuge: an abandoned shack a little ways inland from the swamp. It was unassuming enough through the fog that Gale had tripped over its porch, and even Astarion’s darkvision had missed the contours of the old building tucked away. 
But once scoped, you found that the place was empty. Shadowheart deemed it safe enough for you to unpack your bedrolls and dry your waterlogged boots. So you did just that—even managing to rouse a fire with an ignis and a few pieces of damp wood. 
The flames took a few moments to blaze to life, but once they did, the warmth was heavenly on your skin. One by one, you started to shed your wet outer garments, laying them out by the fire.
“Oh, bloody hells!”
A voice rang out over the crackling hearth. You turned to find Astarion on his knees, rummaging through his supply pack half-deranged.  
He flung the contents out onto the floor: some soggy books, a cask of water, pristinely-folded clothes. Then he promptly turned the pack upside down, seemingly devestated to find nothing else inside.
The rogue threw his hands up. “Gone,” he declared, with a dejected sort of laugh. “Be it just my luck after trudging through this gods forsaken waste—”
From the corner of the room, Shadowheart stopped wringing out her gloves. She gave you a look. Deal with him, she said through the shared connection. 
With a sigh, you conceded. “What’s wrong, Astarion?” You stood over the pale elf, hand on hip, “Broken a nail?” 
Irritation painted his face, but his demeanour remained playful.“Ha! Hilarious as always, my dear,” he replied, without sparing you so much as a glance. “Alas, I’m afraid my situation is a tad more dire.” 
You clicked your tongue. “Go on.”
Astarion stood up, taking a moment to dust himself off. “It seems I’ve lost my bedroll somewhere in that bloody marsh,” he finally admitted. 
Somewhere across the room, Shadowheart’s snort was quickly covered up by a faux cough from Gale. “Oh?” you said, “I thought elves didn’t need to sleep.” 
Astarion shot you a glare. “And do you need to dry your clothes by the fire? Need to eat tonight or, gods forbid, drive us half mad with your infernal singing sometime tomorrow?” 
He stalked the cabin, pointing vivaciously at your drying garments, and menial rations you’d hoped wouldn’t spoil. 
You felt your brow furrow at his display. “No need to be rude,” you said shortly. “Today’s been hard on all of us.” Pushing past him, you quickly retrieved your own pack from its place near the door. “Here—just take mine.”
Fishing around the bag, you searched for your own bedroll before producing it for him. Astarion let out a sound of disgust. 
“You could at least try to be grateful, Astarion,” you started. Then you felt it; your trusted bedroll squelched in your hand. It was pasted with a layer of thick algae, and some other mysteries you couldn’t discern. “Son of a—” you cursed. How had you forgotten when it rolled into the marsh earlier in the day?
A hand found your shoulder. “Thanks for the generous offer, my dear, but I think I’ll pass,” Astarion said, proudly. He then flicked a rather large leech off your bedroll, causing Gale to shriek when it landed at his feet. “I’d like to remain the only bloodsucker around here.”
You were about to quip back, when Astarion stepped closer—enough so that his breath dusted your cheek when he spoke. “And I think I spy a bed in the other room. That should do me just fine.” 
It took you a moment to unravel his words. By the time you did, he’d already traipsed halfway across the cabin. “Hang on a moment,” you called after him,“I already staked my claim on that earlier!”
“Hmm?” the elf hummed, feigning ignorance.
The audacity. You shot a glance back at the wizard, who immediately threw his hands up in surrender. “Oh no, you don’t,” warned Gale, “I’m staying out of this one.”
To his left, Shadowheart looked equally unbothered by your plight. You scowled at them both. 
It was going to be a long night.
The cabin was quiet. It had been some time since you had rested in a place with a roof and four walls. There were no beasties lurking near your camp, or dangers beyond the trees. The only threat to your person was Gale’s snores coming from the main living space. He’d taken refuge on the floor, whilst Shadowheart seized the chaise lounge. 
It was a comfortable night. So in principle, you should have had no problem falling into a dreamless sleep. Especially given the feather bed at your back. 
“You know, my dear,” Astarion whispered, “I might have agreed to this arrangement, but that was under the condition that you get some sleep.”
You tried not to startle, but his words sounded so close to your ear. It made your skin prickle with anticipation—despite doing your utmost not to show it. 
“I think you’ll find I was the one who was forced to agree,” you countered, “and I’m trying. You just—” 
Shifting in the bed, you turned around to face the elf beside you. He was leaning on one arm, gazing up at the wooden ceiling as though he were watching the stars. His eyes found yours. “I what?” he asked. 
You could hear his grin; he was teasing you. But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of backing down now. “You make me nervous,” you answered bluntly. 
He did not reply. Each second of silence that passed made you more and more uneasy. You couldn’t see him well in the dark. And as much as you tried to make out the contours of his face, you knew for sure discern every line on yours—every expression you hoped to conceal. “And why’s that?” he finally asked.
You let out a huff before falling onto your back. “You know why. Stop acting so smug—It doesn’t suit you."
Astarion’s laugh made its way to you. “Everything suits me, darling.” 
A witty remark alluded you, so you opted to stay quiet. Sleep was what you needed right now. The gods only know how deprived you were of it.
So you plumped your pillow and made yourself comfortable. Then you gathered some blankets to yourself. A yawn left you, but your mind felt anything but relaxed. You readjusted again, this time your body pressing into Astarion's. He moved to accomodate you; you stiffened in response.
“Will you stop wriggling around? I can’t so much as move without you flinching."
At his words, your breath hitched. You were midway through an apology before he interrupted.
“Look at me,” he said.
Despite the darkness, his thumb perfectly traced your jaw until it found the space just under your chin. Gently, he coaxed your head up.
“You know I’ve drank from you, right?” You gasped at his candidness. “I've felt your pulse on my tongue and your blood coat my teeth,” he went on. “Hells, I have your thoughts swimming in my head far more often than you probably realise.”
He paused for a moment, and in that time you breathed twice as fast as you ought to.
“You’ve allowed me that much, so sleeping beside me like this?” he said, with a lightness to his voice, “that shouldn’t matter, now should it.”
You couldn't reply. His words were likely meant to comfort, but they had only the opposite effect. As his fingers brushed your cheek, you immediately pulled back—hoping he did not feel the way you burned for him.
“No. I guess not?” you stuttered.
“Good,” came his reply. “Now sleep. I promise I won’t bite” 
He returned to his side of the bed, not overstepping the invisible boundary you'd drawn earlier that evening.
And on your side, you were left to press down whatever feelings threatened to bubble to the surface. You weren’t quite ready to let them out yet—not when you couldn’t see clearly the face he would make in response.
Right now, you just needed to sleep.
So you focused on the snores echoing from the other room, the rain pattering the windows, Astarion's breaths and your heart—which, without realising, had recently started to beat for him.
“Goodnight, Astarion,” you whispered into the dark.
“Yes, my dear," he said softly. "That it is."
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0bticeo · 6 months
Text
welcome to the show!
summary: vox sends you as a spy to the hazbin hotel. alastor decides to give him a show.
tw: voyeurism, biting, blood play, fingering, valentino mentioned. english isn't my mother tongue.
you're thrown in hell - quite literally. the fall from purgatory and its beasts was long, arduous, and painful.
you've led an ordinary life. woken up. worked. slept. repeatead. same old decaying matter as everything else. you didn't think too much of it, of course not. you were twenty something and rising slowly, steadily in your company as an esteemed lawyer. memento mori didn't ring a bell. maybe it should've.
now you're in hell, and you're burning with sheer, unbridled rage, because how dare they throw you in there? (you're all in hell for a reason. all of you, fangs and bad intentions bare to the world.)
you take up your old job at vox tech. lawyer for a corrupt company. old habits die harder than you do. there, there's the thrill of probing the opposing companies and sinking your fangs into them, corrupt little fox with a too wide smile on your face.
what you gather is this: velvette's sense of fashion involves too much purple, valentino is the embodiment of everything you hate and vox... vox is obsessed with the radio demon. he's disappeared not too long after being asked to join the vees. you'd know, you're the one who wrote the contract he refused to sign. bastard.
could've been fine, really. but they work you to the bone and treat you as little less than a glorified secretary. when valentino throws the cup of coffee you brought him to a board meeting with the other executives of the company, you slam the door on your way out and don't look back.
it goes like this: you've been in hell for a while, and you're done playing the part of the sinner. so you tell charlie morningstar when she greets you at the hazbin hotel.
she accepts you, welcomes you with, out of all things, a song. too much trouble for dear old you.
"nonsense! everyone deserves to be given their rightful importance!"
that one hit close home.
you don't have the time to thank her before she's introducing you to the staff and the rest of the hotel.
vaggie, staring you down with a suspicious eye, fingers itching to reach for her spear. ah. an angel. fascinating.
angel dust. you have to thank him for being here. after you murder him for calling you an enticing little vixen and winking at you.
husker. former overlord. sold his soul to the radio demon in a bad game of poker.
your hair stand at the back of your neck. static crackles in the air. your ear twitches. alastor's entered the game.
"alastor, it's a pleasure to meet you, quite the pleasure my dear!"
he brings your gloved hand to his lips. even through the thin leather, you can feel the warmth of his breath, the press of his teeth like a warning.
his grin deepens when you introduce yourself in turn. a glimmer of recognition flashes in his eye.
shit.
**
you've always liked to cook. there's something about the glimmering edge of a knife cutting thin slices of meat that appeases you. tonight, you crave some rabbit.
somewhere in the kitchen, the clock ticks the minutes away, time bleeding out. doesn't matter when you have eternity to atone for your sins. 
the watch at your wrist flashes. 2:37. of course, insomnia had to follow you down to hell. it served you at voxtech, back when you were pouring over contracts and meaningless paperwork.
you make your way towards the fridge, hoping to god you'll find something to satiate your appetite.
"ah, feeling peckish my dear?"
you startle.
alastor.
you turn, back facing the counter, resisting the urge to bare your fangs. there he is, slithering out of darkness, a spectre in red. you wonder if it's a reminder of the blood he's shed.
"what do you want?" you snarl.
he laughs, static buzzing in your ears. you blink. when your eyes open, he's inches away from your face, craning your neck towards him - he's tall, that fucker.
"why so aggressive, little vixen?"
his fingers dip down your shoulder, down your arm, until they close on your wrist. his teeth press against the bracelet of your watch, scraping the skin beneath, drawing a drop of blood. the screen glows, a faint blue light in the penumbra of the kitchen.
your breath catches in your throat. he's gorgeous, blue light draped over his hair like threads of moonlight.
he hums, the vibration settling low in your gut.
"i just want a little taste..."
you shiver at that. at the way he looks at you like he wants to devour you, consume you whole. at the way his tongue presses on the cut, lapping at the blood. you tense, biting back a soft, needy little sound.
his leg pushes your thighs apart. you don't realise you've been humping against the warmth of him until his hand settles on your hip, claws digging into your skin hard enough to draw blood.
"behave, little spy."
you laugh at that, baring your throat.
"was it really that obvious?"
he hums, clawed finger trailing down the column of your flesh, pressing against the jugular. he can feel your pulse, staccato little thing beating wildly as you look up at him, lips parted with want.
his smile stretches, impossibly wide.
"vox wouldn't have let his precious little lawyer go." his claws tap against your watch. "and i'd be a fool not to get a taste."
he kisses you. he kisses you, teeth nipping at your mouth until you can feel static against your tongue, until you arch your back against him. you whine, claws digging in his shirt, eager for more. of course, he pulls away. bastard.
"patience, my dear. all good things come to those who wait."
you scoff.
"because seven years and s'more weren't enough?"
a pause. his lips trail down your throat.
"i suppose that's fair."
he bites you, teeth sinking at the junction of your throat and shoulder. you keen, a breathless moan of his name as you feel him grind against you. you shouldn't let this happen. shouldn't revel in the warmth of him, body going limp in his grasp. shouldn't drag his hand towards your aching core, let him press his fingers against your slit and chuckle at how wet you are. you can't let him finger you on the kitchen's counter, can't mewl like a wanton whore.
you do.
you do, his name like a prayer on your lips, hips stuttering, desperate for release. you feel him against you, lapping at your flesh like a starved hound. when he lets you go, there's a spider-web thin string of blood connecting him to your shoulder.
the sight of him takes your breath away.
there he is, eyes half lidded, looking at you. there he is, blood, your blood, dripping down his lips, his chin.
he leans closer, watching you, the way your shiver at his every touch, as his free hand digs in the tender skin of your breast and sinks into the flesh.
oh.
something snaps in you - you're on fire, head thrown back in a silent cry of his name.
on your wrist, the watch flashes blue. alastor grasps your wrist in his hand, bringing it up. it's easy for vox to see you. you, disheveled, red fur a mess of sweat and blood, panting, cheek pressed against alastor's chest. you, nightgown hiked up to your hips. you, legs wrapped around alastor's waist, teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder to muffle your moans as he drills his cock into you.
vox groans at the sight, pants growing too tight.
the radio demon smiles.
"hope you enjoyed the show, old pal!"
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emmaofnormandy · 1 month
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Imagine you are the third head of the dragon.
Warnings: explicit smut, drama, angst—fluffy endings tho. We stand happy Aemond and happy Aegon; long post.
***
• (I)
You are the only princess of the four children of King Viserys and his second wife after the demise of Princess Helena before you were even born.
So at the time of your birth your grieving mother relied on you, giving you perhaps a different treatment that she conceded your brothers. The Queen is definitely more protective to you.
As you grow, robust and lively, you find yourself looking for a place between Aemond and Aegon.
To complicate things, your father neglects you and your mother starts to busy herself with queenship.
This is the background you find yourself for the moment. Overshadowed by an older sister you've never seen, ignored by two brothers who are constantly at each other, loneliness is your companion and you feed it with books, sharpening your mind as you grow.
It happens, however, that you find Aemond at the library this day. You'd quickly turn out had he not spoken to you first.
"Come here, Y/N. Why do I get the sensation that you are fleeing from me?"
You do as told.
"I do not think you appreciate my company for whenever I am nearby you disappear."
Leaving the book aside, he looks up and greets you with a small smile.
"So the princess speaks. Well, if it happens to be so it's because I have other tasks. Unfortunately our lessons are scheduled for different parts of a day."
Seeing you are still untrusting his words, Aemond sighs and moves to where you are.
"Come now, Y/N. What are you intending to read today?"
As one looks to the other, the initial distrust is overcome. Whatever Aemond sees in you finds home in how you let him in too.
*
Aegon sees you the moment he leaves Sunfyre.
The four and ten year boy watches as you, four years younger, pace lonely around the gardens.
He'd usually have no time to waste if the person in question was Aemond, but something about you changes his mind and he turns around.
"Is this a Targaryen trait to be able to read a book and walk at the same time?"
You raise your head and chuckle at his words.
Aegon has always been the unreachable elder brother, but for some reason you are like a sunbeam whenever he looks at you. And he is proud of himself for making you smile.
"I cannot say, but if this is the case then it is a gift I can at least claim."
Aware this hints at the fact you haven't reclaimed a dragon to yourself yet, the prince softens towards you.
"Dreamfyre is out there, you know."
"I cannot",
", and your smile falters. "It was hers."
Rarely the Queen spoke of Princess Helena to you. The sister whom you've never met was the eldest (she'd be joined by Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron before you came to this world) of the family, after Rhaenyra. She had claimed a dragon when she was two and ten, and had she lived today, she would be counting a second decade in this world.
But due to a sickness, two years after Helena delighted in riding Dreamfyre, she was no more. It did impact her family in many ways and you, born six years later, still feel daunted by her memory.
"Y/N", Aegon understands well what you left unsaid. "This is not how she would have liked to be remembered."
"You say it so because mother doesn't compare you to her like she does to me."
In pain, a bond rises. Aegon is surprised himself when he notices it.
"Oh, how mistaken you are, dear Y/N. I too wonder at times if it wasn't better for us all that the Gods spared her instead of me."
You take his hand in yours and you like how warm his skin is.
"Do not say so. You are good to me, Aegon. You can be good. Do not forget it."
That evening, Aegon could believe there is hope somewhere. About what? He cannot say.
***
• (II)
Tensions between Rhaenyra's offspring and the Queen's are growing slow, but intently. You have noticed how often Aemond has been mocked for not having a dragon to claim, a topic that is quite sensitive to you as well.
These are the moments where you come out of your cave.
"Leave him alone. It seems to me that neither of you are capable of understanding that it's to the Gods' decide whenever we bond with our dragons."
Lucerys laughs disdainfully at you, and Aemond sees you going red. A bad sign. He holds your hand as if he's trying to prevent you to get into a fight that is not yours.
But when Baela snaps back, the unexpected happens. You are brought to an unpredictable display of ire, pushed to the point where you knock her down.
"Shut up, won't you?!"
It doesn't get worse because Aemond interferes and, together with a very impressed Aegon, you are taken off the room. But the implications of the day only worsened your moods when Aemond himself loses an eye because of Lucerys.
"I am glad in you I can trust", says Aemond in a rare display of affection, of fragility.
You hold him tight.
"I cannot forgive myself for being absent this day. I failed to protect you, Aemond. For that I'm sorry."
He looks at you, partially amused.
"You are my younger sister. It's I who should say so, not you."
"Nevertheless..."
"Don't, Y/N. I'll be fine."
Neither speak for a moment. It's here where the lines are drawn out, where there is a subtle modification in the nature of the relationship between him and you. But what would you know?
***
• (III)
Here you are, watching Aegon flying with Aemond. Despite your pride, you took the opportunity to ride with your boys. The rarity of the occasion-where you, a rider unclaimed, had the chance to mount a very ancient dragon and another relatively younger-helps strengthening the bonds between you three.
But as you are tired, you are merely an observer.
Lying down in the green grass of the open field, a spot where you like to spend your time with your siblings, here is usually your safe haven, where no one troubles you —where the deranged concept of paradise can be traced in the back of your mind.
However, your flaws give you little time to rest upon. You are constantly reminded that everyone has a dragon but you. Though your father has shockingly observed Dreamfyre has no rider, you refuse to take the dragon of the sister whom everyone loved as yours.
Thus it is you start to recount in the back of your mind the dragons left yet to be tamed-if yet they can be claimed so. It's when your are reminded of a dragon as old as Vhagar... one of the kind that has long been left with no rider to claim as its own.
The arduous task emanates behind your eyes.
Ambition rises in your chest, but you are up to it.
When you observe Amond and Aegon up in the skies, you whisper to yourself:
"I am by no means lesser than any of them. I'll show them all I am the third head of the dragon."
A deadly promise that certainly has the eager ears of the divine.
*
The day chosen for this is, in fact, right after your lord father has died. Aegon has been chosen a king in opposition to Rhaenyra and as conspiracies roll to dethrone your elder sister in favour of a male heir, in similar parallels to the same council attended by King Jaehaerys many moons ago which determined that Prince Viserys would inherit the throne against Princess Rhaenys' rights, you follow your lead.
It happens to be a storming day, a bad omen to many-depending of the point of view. To a start, you are betrothed to Aegon.
"I have always assumed you'd have Lady Baela at your side", you are heard musing to your inexpressible elder brother.
Aegon limits himself giving you a long look.
"As if, my dear Y/N. As if!"
You chuckle quietly. And the sound of it makes the elder of the three to smile genuinely. Indeed, as you notice for the first time, it is a good sight to admire.
The now king who is styled as Aegon II seems to notice something different in you too. But this exchange of glances ends abruptly as businesses are conducted-and you notice that Aemond, a silent witness that is so easily mistaken to a shadow, doesn't like what he sees so he leaves.
You sigh and stand, going after him in spite of your mother's protests that you should stay so the betrothal is announced... But as you part nonetheless, Aegon's eyes refuse to follow you.
It appears I must learn to share.
The new king finds this concept a rather odd one, but his namesake did the same, so why not do the same? As he plays with his finger and hears the council planning his coronation day, Aegon realizes this may not be such a bad idea.
After all... there must be three heads of the dragon.
He shivers.
*
Aemond stands at the yard, his chest heavy, smashed by the weight of wishing everything he cannot possessed. He wishes they could see that it's Aemond, not Aegon, better suited for the crown, better suited for...
"Aem", like a whisper, like a prayer your voice comes to his ears.
Aemond slowly turns only to spot you dressed in dark green robes, hair split in two long braids.
You've turned to a woman, no longer the introspective child that feared his presence.
"Y/N", he whispers too.
"You left the council."
"So did you".
Silence. Aemond can tell you are irritated by his words. By how you breathe, he knows you are upset. And he wishes things are otherwise, but what can he do when you are out of reach?
"You should have stayed", you insist.
"What for? I have no use there", Aemond scoffs.
"This is not the true." When you slip towards him, the prince finds in your gaze a very obstinate trait that, however, is tempered by your gentleness.
Some you remind him of his ancestor, Queen Rhaenys. "We must stick together. The world out there is cruel, Aemond. We need each other."
His hands are now resting around your waist-an imperceptible gesture, done almost unconsciously—, drawing you closer, even though you need not so much encouragement to do it willingly.
When have these sentiments begun to change?
Or have they always been there? A question Aemond does not dare to pose even if they are detected in his good one eye, softened as you raise your right hand to stroke his cheek-and he does not push you away.
"I have never failed my duty, Y/Nickname", like the boy he was, he opens up to you. "But you are not mine to claim even though l'd be a better husband to you."
You smile and it is as if the clouds open up to let the light come in.
"I know you have not. Which is why I'm asking you to stay", you lean forward and Aemond detests the trap he's led into. "We need you. Perhaps not all is lost...”
You tilt your head, letting words be spoken.
Aemond knows that where you are concerned, there is no way to say otherwise. Haven't it always been like this?
Thus it is not entirely surprising that he cedes at your charms by wrapping his hands around your neck and looses the control of his impulses by locking his lips with yours.
You sigh in content, not fighting this urge nor repressing the sentiment that has always been there. You respond his kiss, gladly letting yourself be involved. For where darkness lies ahead, Aemond provides you some light.
"It seems better", says he when you both pull apart to catch some air, "to share you with him than with a stranger."
"I'm glad we have finally agreed", you smile like the silly thing you are.
Despite these merrier circumstances, you are very mindful of what's to be done. And you have no need to wait further for it... even though as you prepare to it, Aegon spots you.
"Never took you for sneaking, Y/N", the king comes at you, and you see in his eyes a mix of feelings that being tossed to such a high position brings him. "Is it me the cause of your elope?"
"I am not eloping, Aegon", you say calmly but firmly. "I have no reason to do so."
Aegon scoffs and an old wound is opened to bleed.
"I am not like Aemond. I understand that it is him you opt to be wedded to."
You sigh, aware of the task that awaits you.
Nevertheless, you are not someone known to be a quitter. You step forward, shortening the distance that for so long has been great.
"You are not unlovable, Aegon. In these peril times, we must not be apart of each other. Feelings do not make us kings. Duties do."
"Bards tend to claim that duties are the death of love", Aegon shoots you a long gaze, still distrustful of your intentions.
You let silence hang loose as you take his hand, moulding into yours as fingers are intertwined. It feels surprisingly good, warm and cozy. You stare at what this union means and you look up at him.
Aegon seems to share the surprise when observing how well your hands are. Little by little tension begins to fade.
"Duties should not be the death of duty. They can coexist." Your thumb rubs around his skin. "There must be three dragons, Aegon."
He sighs.
"I cannot protest against it."
"You can. I am not forcing you into anything for you are the king, after all."
Aegon snorts. It takes little time before he pulls you against him and lifts your chin so his lilac eyes reflect your ones.
"How grown and witter you've become, Y/N", and a sly smirk curls upon your lips when his eyes part to look down at your heavy breathing chest.
"Quite a woman indeed."
Experiencing this lust is to taste the fire of the dragon. Aegon smirks when reading these new sentiments that rise in you. But frustratingly.. he lets go of you.
"I shall best wait for our wedding feast. You'll not be disappointed. Have a good evening, my dear Y/ N."
How your name rolls out of his lips gives you shivers. You wish you could plead him to stay, you are tempted to follow your impulses... but as the king walks off, you let him think victory is with him. For this night you are expected elsewhere.
*
To cool off your womanly needs that have recently risen, you resignify your actions. There is a soft rain pouring this night and you are wearing your court gown. Guarded by two guards and a lady of your trust, you confide your life into the unknown.
You lead the way to the cave where a dragon as old as tale is left in his asleep. For years untroubled, no one dared to claim him. But you... you want more. You've always aimed higher. And we are not speaking of the game of thrones.
Wild as a beast, you are not the royal daughter of House Targaryen whose beauty has earned a rare comparison to Queen Rhaenys. Some bards dare to say you are her incarnation. You are you, Y/N of House Targaryen.
The third head of the dragon. The dragon they need.
Thus you venture inside the cave.
***
• (IV)
The moment you land Aegon's Hill with Vermithor is when every question about your apparent disappearance is answered. Aemond and Aegon are indeed surprised to find in the sweet and delicate sister they share a formidable ally in the upcoming war.
"Y/N, this is very bold of you", your mother tells you in between awe and annoyance. "To leave out in the dark without any explanation... do you realize how wrong this all could have gone to?"
"I'm sorry, mother, but I had to try."
"Wouldn't Dreamfyre be sufficient to you?"
"No. I am not here to supplant my deceased sister, but to be my own self."
The dowager queen doesn't like the answer she gets of you, but at the same time she sees herself in this precise response. She takes your hand into hers and you are more than pleased that you two come to terms about it.
Later that day, when you prefer not to be included in the green's council, Aemond comes at you. You are found at the backyard, reading under a tree.
"I pray I am not interrupting anything."
You lift up and the rogue prince smiles to himself when seeing how lighted up you are at his presence. You quick move to where he is and Aemond is drowned to your presence, burying his face in your neck.
"Gods, I missed you", you say, hands stroking his long hair. "I wish we were not part of this, Aemond."
"Neither did I, but we must protect Aegon at all costs" , says the prince, now stepping back to look at you. He sees through your beauty, aware that this is someone bold like him, rider of an ancient dragon. You are every inch of Queen Rhaenys the Conqueror's blood.
Hands intertwine as gazes are locked. Whatever path this conflict is leading all of you to, you are prepared to take part of it.
"We must and we will." You stroke his face. "We need each other, Aemond. We truly do."
"For we are the three heads of the dragon", muses Aemond, taking your free hand to his lips, upon which he presses a kiss. "I know it as much as you do."
You lean forward to kiss his lips. To feel him one more time is a must, but this is not a goodbye.
This should not feel so.
Specially because Aemond has other plans to weave.
*
Meanwhile, you opt to visit Aegon in his privy quarters. It has been some time since the two of you had a moment to yourselves...and you detest the anguishing possibility that he's been avoiding you.
Aegon is found sharing a drink with his mates when he sees you. Embellished in a mix of green and red, your hair is long lose in curls that match your delicate features.
Can he look away before this view? He cannot. What is more, you are naturally seductive and yet completely ignorant of the power you have in others.
Aegon thus finds reasonable to dismiss his friends and greet you properly.
"What a delighted surprise it is to find you here, Y/N."
"Should it be so?", you take a seat next to him. "I shall be your wife within days and even though it is an arranged marriage, I believe we must make the best out of it."
Aegon looks at you as if he's trying to read your true intentions, but you are being as genuine as your nature permits you to be. He chills then.
"I've always considered Aemond to be a better match for you."
"We cannot be apart of each other, Aegon. Not in these perilous times", and here you take his hand, gently holding it. "You are not by yourself."
Aegon doesn't answer at first. You stand and move to where he is, daring to involve him in an embrace. His head is now against your chest, and you stroke his hair as he holds you against him.
His breath against your skin gives you shivers. But you know what you are doing.
Little by little, right at the throne chamber, where only the fireplace is the witness, Aegon starts to unlace your gown and his lips are suddenly over the swell of your breasts going up to your neck.
You smile, very inclined to it-you move your hip to sit right over his, letting him do whatever he wants with you. Because you are not so innocent, hardly a lamb-you are just as passionate as he is.
And his lips going to your neck so hungrily, makes you wipe out reason of your mind. You moan softly, pleased to be introduced to this matter.
Aegon's left hand moves to your hips and legs, lifting your skirt, his teeth claiming your neck all the while.
And you throw your head back, eyes barely closed when his eager flingers find his ways to your aching womanhood.
"Has he touched you?", Aegon whispers in your ear, biting down your earlobe and smirking pleasantly when seeing you shiver.
"No. It is my husband's merit to do so", you tell him, feeling his aroused member pump against your womanhood.
You'd gladly move against it, rubbing yourself in the process, but his finger suddenly finds the way to your core.
"Oh Gods!", you cry out.
Aegon smiles pleasantly. His smile, burning bright like the sun, is so captivating. And yet here you are, subdued to him as he touches you in such an indecent manner.
"Mm." He buries his head in your neck, holding you close, always tender, always considerate to you. "Yes, my dear Y/N. Come to me, will you?"
You are experiencing a new kind of bliss, so indescribable, that you cannot help yourself being so loud. You cling onto him, your lips desperately looking for his to clash.
It’s a different sensation to kiss your betrothed, and him, likewise. A new bond is forged from fire and blood. The result of it… Aegon feels right in his hand.
“I told you”, you cup his face as you rest your forehead against his, “that you are not unlovable nor undesired, Aegon.”
You are breathless by the time you pursuit him. For the first time in a while, Aegon grants you permission to let you in. As he cuddles you, hands wrapped around your waist, the king says:
“Gods be good for sending you, my darling.”
“Anything for my king, my love.”
And you mean every word of it.
***
• (V)
Right before the marriage is officially celebrated in the common rites of Westeros, another is on its way under the rites of Old Valyria. For both brothers espouse you as their wife.
“Who’d see this day coming?”, says Aegon in a jest. “Like the good old days.”
Aemond shoots him a meaningless look.
“Better it keep in the family than out of it.”
“The dragons must be three”, you say, rather moved by a strange intuition that occurs you every now and then. “Three. Not two. Never two.”
“The old should hardly have been replaced by the new”, says Aemond. “Tradition is something very few valued these days.”
“Quite the opposite, brother”, says Aegon in good mood. “We are prevailing, can you not see it?”
So the ceremony proceeds after all of the tree has come to an agreement that this is a secret with few to share…
*
Later that evening, you try not to look so nervous as the bedding feast begins. You spot a discreet Aemond retiring and you partly fear that he will not join you and Aegon. The mere idea, though, gives you shivers and begins to shake your nerves.
Aegon, seeing how you struggle to conceal your true sentiments, takes your hand under the table and gives a light squeeze. Then he leans discreetly to whisper in your ear:
“All in your time, my dear. If you do not wish to partake it, I can…”
“No”, you tell him firmly. “I shall perform my duties accordingly. Besides…”, and here you flash him a mischievous smirk, “…this is something I’ve been looking forward to do.”
Aegon smirks at you, but when he reclines back to his chair to down another glass, his eyes remain glued in you. He knows you more than you’d have judged.
And yet when he comes to take your hand into his, you dare to look at him again and now… as you two share a look, you feel at ease for the very first time.
*
When you get to the privy quarters, you are putting up with a confidence you lack. You dress only one line robe over your nude frame and your silver hair hangs loose on your back.
The door opens and to your surprise you find Aegon and Aemond, both waiting for you. They are talking as if nothing different is about to happen, as if this is a regular day to them both.
You are rather relieved to see them getting along like they have always been—partners, brothers and friends. Aegon doesn’t look troubled like he often is whenever he’s at the council or nearby his Hightower relatives, your mother being one of them.
His hair is slightly shorter, hanging it at his neck, a complete mess of curls. He is wearing his me nightgown, which shows his bare legs and… You blush at the sight of his manhood, something you’ve never had a glimpse before.
It is a struggle to look at Aemond, though, who is dressed similar. You think you are about to faint, but the subtle warmth you experience in your womanhood certainly prevents you to shy away of consuming this union you’ve longed to arrange.
As you step forward silently so, all eyes are now on you. Aegon and Aemond share a look as if there’s a silent agreement about something. It feels as if they have already discussed how this is going to be.
“Our wife looks stunning this evening”, says Aegon, coming forward to greet you. He takes your wrist and there presses a linger kiss, and something about how you react to this simple gesture makes him smirk. “Do you not think so, brother?”
“Ever the charming”, and here comes Aegon, standing by your right, his slander hand gently touching your curls. “She, whose beauty is unmatched, has come to love us both.”
“Equally”, Aegon sublimes it, very pleased to detect a blush on your paled cheeks. Standing by your left, he gently strokes your face, before slipping a hand to your chest, thus starting to unlace your robes.
“Equally”, Aemond agrees, gently touching your jawline and neck. “And so do we.”
“For there must be”, Aegon whispers in your ear the moment your robes drop to the floor, “three heads of the dragon.”
You shiver. Speechless, all you can do is appreciate their handsomeness. You touch their faces, letting your gaze transmit all your tongue cannot.
The connection is indeed strong, for neither feels the need to translate to words what has always been understood, accepted and taken into the respective hearts.
As Aemond takes his time in exploring your body, his lips slowly going to your cheek to your neck, it’s Aegon who takes the initiative in showing you the ways of… a marital activity.
“Oh Lords”, it’s all you eventually manage to speak out when Aemond kisses your neck and you start to caress Aegon’s manhood all the whilst you are told so many naughty things that make your womanhood ache.
“Mm”, Aegon groans lightly as he takes your hand and leads the way, teaching you how to caress his erect manhood, pumping all the way. “You are natural in this, Y/N.”
You purr the moment he kisses your lips and Aemond starts to caress your already painfully hardened nipple. You throw your head back, about to lose your balance—but thankfully Aemond has a hand to rest on your lower back.
It is a very promising night. Your innocence is certainly no more as you start to enjoy doing it so. Your lips are now going fervent from one to another, a victim of their prey—for though you believed to have had this all along, when Aegon takes your breasts with his skillful hands only to let Aemond slide to his knees and do wonderfulness in your womanhood… you see this has been woven by them for a long time.
“Ah!”, you throw your head back, already a puddle of mess as Aemond takes you all with his tongue.
“Cry out, Y/N. Scream if you dare”, Aegon smirks, pleased to have you the way he wanted you to be: completely corrupted.
“I cannot…”
“Holding back is only worse, and we haven’t even begun yet.”
When your eyes meet, you realize this is their doing and you are their creature. Thus you explode in orgasms, but Aemond doesn’t shy away from drinking all of it.
*
It is Aegon who has the privilege to bed you first. Aemond is very patient—in fact, he likes to watch and make eye contact with you as the elder of you penetrates you nice and slow. It’s delightfully painful to be in this manner, and you never felt so good nor desired, less so to be loved and admired.
As you are close to get your climax, Aemond takes his part in it. Aegon leaves it him to finish the task, but you want more of it—don’t waste the seed, you ask him.
And you engulf it, when Aegon does as requested.
“Indeed, the three of us are nothing but a great piece of art”, muses Aemond as he throbbes inside you.
In this mix of bodies and pleasures and pain, it is only fair that synchrony does its work and pays it well the effort that is to love two men at the same time.
*
Yet, not all is about bedding activities and indecent leisures. War is still being carried out and news have been bad enough to shake the confidence of the Green Cause.
For it is said that Rhaenyra has accomplished a number of bastards to ride some wild dragons. It means to say Aegon is outnumbered.
Hopeless as it may, neither Aegon nor Aemond are willing to quit a fight. What they must do is put in practice the good old strategy: to divide is to conquer. This means they start to ponder how to do so… when they remember that you are the rider of a dragon as old and powerful as Vhagar is.
“Do not think”, your mother, who’s part of the council, is informed before you do of their intentions, “that Y/N should take part of this. She is too innocent for this matter and has no taste to wage wars.”
Aemond clenches his jaw but Aegon dares to snap back:
“To think we are this low morally, mother, gives the light upon which you see us. Well, let me remind you that Y/N loves to ride and is every bit a Targaryen. To hid her away will not change the fragility that you put me through!”
“I intend to keep your throne by all means I can”, says Alicent just as firm. “But this does not require that I must test all of my offspring.”
“This is war”, says Aemond. “What else do you expect? Innocent and guilt are not spared, nor noble or lowborn folk. If you intend to fight for our cause, well then, light the way.”
Otto Hightower, so far watching the discussion with interesting eyes, decides this is the proper time to interfere.
“I was not expecting a wise remark of Aegon, but there it is. He is right, Alicent. War does not spare anyone and hasn’t Y/N claimed Vermithor? Vantage is in our side and we must use it. Next to Vhagar, no one will stand for us. However… We must reason how to do so.”
“I see how little my own perspective here is considered”, and yet Alicent adds: “Be this if it may. Let us fight with the claws we have. We will indeed light the way to the throne and burn all of those who dare to stand in our path.”
Finally, Aegon smiles. Finally a queen who fights for the rights of her children. It seems the greens have finally been tied in one knot.
*
You are found pacing around the gardens with two ladies a few feet behind in order to grant you some privacy. Having just landed after riding with Vermithor, you need to settle before going back to court.
The court, an ideal world where illusions are played in order to entertain courtiers and put a rein to the noble houses’ ambitions. Ruling it is like ruling a realm. One misstep and diplomatic relations can break.
To keep a certain distance between nobility and the royal household you must dress as significant as possible—for fashion is every princess’s weapon, a form to express power through rich cloth that no one can purchase. This exclusivity has always been part of House Targaryen, the only one to exhibit purple cloth amidst its traditional colours to reinforce its royalty.
Not only you dress fancifully to show your power as Queen, but your manners too are regal and carefully pondered. Always the diplomatic, you are impeccable whenever you entertain men and women who could possibly be working for Rhaenyra right now.
Since you do not like the attention, you appreciate the role that most might judge—your enemies, overall—as superficial. But to work beneath the table always works better.
So here you are resting when he finds you.
“Of all the changes I’ve seen, it is good to see one thing remains the same”.
You turn around to see Aegon in his traditional green robes. The tenderness in his face when seeing you warms your heart and distracts you of this recent exhaustion that has been plaguing your heart. But this perception you do not share with anyone.
“What is that, I wonder?”, you smile warmly as you motion towards him.
Aegon takes your hand before pulling you closer to him.
“That your tastes have not been affected by the transition of age.”
You blush. Who could have foreseen that a bold as this would grow to a deeper sentiment, far more than lust and affection could conceive?
“You know more than you show.”
Aegon takes your hand and brings it to his lips.
“How can I not know my lady? My wife and queen, my greatest support.”
“You, as my king and blood of my blood, are more than I deserve.” And here you move boldly to press your lips against his, not minding the protocols.
A serene kiss that, both of you know, not only comes so naturally to physically reinforce this tenderness that involves each, but that tempers the bad news you sense that may come.
“You have something to tell me.”
It is not a question. Aegon sighs, but since Aemond has parted with Vhagar, he is left with the discomfort decision of giving you the resolution of the council.
“How’d you know? Has my discomfort played its card?”
You smile benignly, always the patient.
“When I made you and Aemond the solace of my heart was not only moved by this strange intuition that a dragon must have three heads. It was more than inclination to old prophecies that anyone would understand.” You shrug your shoulders, but none of this surprises your husband, already familiar with the topic.
“This means that when I claimed Vermithor, I was prepared for the day we would be challenged. Your cause is uncontested, my love.”
“I only wish I had not involved you in this.”
You kiss your cheek.
“Not even Rhaenys contented herself with entertaining court for so long. When her Aegon required, she attended her duties. So, mine own liege Aegon, what is it you request of me, your humble wife?”
Aegon swallows, but when he raises his eyes, you see resignation behind them.
So he tells you the plan.
***
• (VI)
The day before the three of you would fly with your dragons and lead your armies to war, you find yourself feeling slightly nauseous. Thankfully a maid came to succor you before you succumbed to your strange new moods.
“Thank you”, you smile at her. “But I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
Early this morning you have found yourself in a strange twist of humour since you’ve been without either of your husbands and bed has been cold. You struggle to be in a good mood when war leaves you anxious and the company of your mother irritates you every now and then.
There is always a great price to pay to keep my emotions in check.
Thankfully though, Aemond is the first to return and you rush to greet him. Today, it’s raining and you do not mind to get wet when you welcome him in your arms.
“Looks like I was missed”, muses the prince with a smirk when being engulfed by you. His hands caress your sides before lifting you and spinning you around.
“You took some time, Aemond. It is unjust to leave me waiting.”
“My apologies, wife, but you know I cannot flee my duties”, and here he takes your hands and kisses each before doing the same to your lips. “I have missed you more than it is sensible to conceive.”
Resting his forehead against yours, Aemond is at peace again, a rarity ever since the war has started—specially after what happened to Lucerys, which had ran out of his control and he never forgave himself for that.
Sensing his troubled soul, you take him inside the castle, trying to distract of his mind. He appreciates the effort, and you two have your privacy at the library, running away of this plagued world for a few moments.
“This is where it all begun”, says Aemond, amused as he scans the shelves where heavy and dusted books are kept. “I recollect you feared me a bit.”
You smile at the memory.
“I thought you were unreachable and that was because you didn’t like me.”
Aemond snorts at you.
“Dislike you?”, he lifts your chin and draws you closer to him, imposing his taller presence in a way that makes you weak in your knees. “How could you nurture such thought?”
You feel like you’ve been dancing with him towards the wall, for you hit your back against it and he presses you in it. It doesn’t help your state that he pulls his knee right in between your legs, rubbing it against your womanhood.
And your reaction is precisely what he expects.
“You… you were often so out of my reach”, you tell in short curt breath. “Aemond, darling, we are not in our privacy.”
He smirks, leaning to peck your lips as he lifts the skirts of your gown. It occurs to him that something about your body looks different, but not knowing what this is, he doesn’t pay attention to it yet.
“Is that so?”, and his hand makes the path he’s so familiar with. “You’ve been lonely, I know.”
You are barely short breathed as you feel it going to your womanhood. Your eye flashes are barely open and the moment his finger starts to do wonderfulness in you, every protocol dies in mute resistance.
��How could you tell?”, you moan, desperately holding onto his shoulders, pulling his hair back before kissing his jawline and burying your lips to his neck.
“Because”, Aemond’s breath hitches for a moment before he whispers, “I know your apetites well.”
“You are the blood of my blood”, and now your hand is quick to find its way to where you want it to be. “It could not be otherwise.”
But Aemond holds your wrists above your head, pinning you further against the wall as he quickly slides his manhood in you just as you are about to reach climax in his skillful hand.
“Aemond!”, you cry out.
“Mine that you are, my queen”, and he shushes you with a fervent kiss all the whilst he bangs you against the wall intently.
*
You are standing outside the castle in your own armor suit. Vermithor has left the dragon’s pit and it seems to feel your anxiety. The old winged beast looks eager to go back to war, to be useful again and you cannot blame him for it. It only mirrors your sense of duty.
“You don’t have to do this, Y/N”, you hear your mother’s plead and when feeling her pain, you are moved by it. When you turn at her, you see her struggling between encouragement and fear for her only daughter… and considering the premature death of Princess Helaena, you realize you should have been kinder.
“I know where my duties lay, mother. Let me do this for my house like Queen Rhaenys did for hers.”
“And look what it befell her!”
You side smirk at your mother before pressing a kiss over her forehead.
“We are not fighting the Dornish, mother.”
But as you move to your dragon, Aegon and Aemond seem to reconsider your part in this. When hearing their hesitance, you scoff at them.
“We are in this together whether you like it or not. There is much to be done. I am not merely your wife, but a queen also, a queen who fights for her kings.”
The three of you stay silent for a few seconds. It falls to Aemond the task to give each a charge to put an end to this bloody war. But little do you know what’s yet to roll…
When it is about to each follow the path and mount each dragon respectively, you are taken by a bad feeling that makes you rush to Aegon.
“Wife”, he greets you with that sunny smile that has always been a weakness of yours. The king is adjusting the armor before getting to Sunfyre. “Shouldn’t you be on your way to Y/C?”
“I should, but I came to wish you my luck”, you say, strangely emotional. You come to realize you’ve been very weird lately, but so far you’ve managed to successfully kept a show. “Aegon, do not be imprudent.”
“Well, if anything falls on me, you have Aemond.”
To his surprise, you burst in tears. Aegon softens, having clearly underestimated the degree of affection you have for him. All his life he felt he’s been overshadowed whether by his younger brother or his elder sister, so he struggled to find his own place.
And yet… to see how you love him, even if he’s always agreed to share you with Aemond, aware that you and him had so far more affinities that with him—which he accepted well—, makes him somewhat emotional.
“You are not unlovable, Aegon”, you sob as he breaks in and holds you against him. “Do not dare to say such a thing. You are irreplaceable.”
So this is what it feels like, a thought occurs him. To feel loved.
“I do not deserve you. And you deserve someone better.”
“Shush, you fool. You are not only the king and blood of my blood, but the solace to my poor desolate heart.”
Aegon smiles to himself before lifting your chin and looking right into your eyes.
“My sweet Y/N, this is not the day I plan to die.”
“Do not dare to leave me in this world.”
He kisses you thus and you mewl under his embrace.
“Never.”
Reluctantly, though, Aegon parts of you. Very chivalrous, he takes your hand to his lips and there presses a kiss. The sight of you, not as a regal queen, but a devouted wife transports him to the old songs he used to love as a young man.
Oh but they will sing about us. The song of the three head dragons. The song about the queen who loved her brothers.
The idea encourages him to move forward. But even when he does so, you cannot wipe away the cascade of tears that expose you to an unknown cruciate misery.
*
Moved by strange sentiments, you think wise to follow them. What a sight by many to see you mounting Vermithor.
“There goes my sweet child. My only daughter”, the queen sighs in melancholy as she watches you fly.
“She is very brave, sister”, her brother, Ser Gwayne, says with a hint of pride. “There is a reason why Vermithor chose her and not the other way around.”
His words are very prophetic. And the Black party would be the first to feel its weight.
*
Aegon meets Rhaenys, the Queen Who Never Was. But it is a rather unmatched fight: Meleys is older and experienced in battle all the whilst this is the first time poor Sunfyre is put to war.
The king holds the reins of his angst, but he tries his best even when the scenario is at his worst. The inevitable seems to occur, the circumstances do not favour him at all.
“I know we can do this”, Aegon mumbles to Sunfyre.
It is when so suddenly a grunting howl breaks through the air. It gives shivers to anyone who hears it. Soldiers down the field interrupt their fighting to see, fearful, who is coming to bring desolation to their cause.
If it is Caraxes, the Greens shake. But this is a dragon older perhaps than Prince Daemon’s winged creature.
Mounting for war, you ride Vermithor well prepared for the fight.
“This is my husband. This is my king and you will not take him of me.”
Vermithor senses the weight of his words. He does not wait for the order, he attacks. Aegon is surprised by how bold you are in battle. And what is more, you came to aid him.
He smiles in relief when seeing Vermithor out power Meleys, even though this is not an easy fight for the Red Dragon has her own experiences.
But Vermithor is deadly, dangerous and… mad. The dragons dance and it is no ordinary dance. One bite in the other’s belly, stretching out until…
“DRACARYS, VERMITHOR!”
A victory for the green cause, but this hasn’t finished yet. Not too far from it comes Baela in her dragon. She flies in complete outrage, but when your gaze meets Aegon’s, well… the princess must be prepared for a double wave of equal display of rage.
***
• (VII)
As war carries on, victories and losses have their prices. Despite the green’s evident advance, you are troubled by the dreams of a battle between your husband Aemond and your uncle Daemon.
To worse matters, Rhaenyra has summoned Targaryen bastards to ride wild dragons. You have been in advanced stages of pregnancy when it all seemed to lead for her upcoming victory—she’s been planting spies in the capital to stand for her cause, which means it is a matter of time before she takes King’s Landing.
“You are staying with our mother at Hightower, should the worse happen”, decides Aegon. “Do not give me this look, Y/N. You might as well as be carrying our heir, so I cannot stress—nor should I—enough the importance of your safety.”
These arguments are reasonable enough to convince you to stay. But to leave Vermithor behind? This is a risk you are unwilling to take.
“You must be out of your senses to suggest flying with your dragon in this state!”, Aemond hears your suggestion completely baffled. “What part of the safety of our unborn child do you not comprehend?”
You gritted your teeth and hiss away, storming off to your chambers. Not a very mature more when you know they are correct in worrying over you—your pregnancy has been giving you some concerns too, since you’ve been feeling exhausted for no reason. But such is the way of a pregnant woman.
“She will come to her senses”, says the Queen dowager. “Y/N has gotten used to be very active in her role, whether as wife, whether as queen, so it is understandable she’s not been taking well to be frustratingly… quiet.”
A sensation that Lady Alicent has been familiar with, but it is only vague since, in truth, she’s been plotting behind the scenes to impede Rhaenyra’s advance.
“Just… make sure the baby comes out well”, says Aemond, concealing the distress that is to go to war and leaving you behind for the first time.
“And make sure she’s safe”, adds Aegon, concerned likewise.
Alicent nods. She smiles at them. Once she found…unusual that the three of her children had linked so deeply in many levels, but now she is proud of the family they’ve become. Otto’s plans, her plans, succeeded and she wished Viserys saw that.
Now they part under grey clouds and mysterious scenes that lay ahead to be fought.
*
To the dowager queen’s surprise your labour is difficult. Perhaps due to your emotional state, it is more complicated that it would be assumed.
The men fight their battles and here you are, fighting yours in your own battlefield: the childbed.
Hours pass and no relief is found. Your screams can be heard in the corridors as you try to follow the midwife’s commands to push.
It really does not help that in this moment you have a sort of dream, a vision of a green battlefield painted in red. The blood of innocent spills in it, screams of terror follow the sound of blades.
Above skies, dragons dance. To your atonement, it is blurred. You cannot spot even the colors of the beasts, but their sounds scratch your ears and you begin to breath anxiously.
“Aegon…. Aemond…”
The sounds turn into cries and eventually… one of the dragons collapses. You shake before the view. Regardless of sides, dragons represent the power of the house Targaryen.
But there must be always three. Three heads of the dragons.
You know not where this certainty has come from. Like your sister Helaena you have dreams, but in your own way. They are not always clear and often come blurred. But this certainty…
Well, what does it matter now? You want to put an end to this misery. So you cry out with all the strength you have.
*
“Daemon Targaryen is dead”, Otto announces proudly and in evident display of emotion. “Gods be good, we are so close to victory.”
“Our plans have finally come to fruition”, Alicent cheers to it, downing another glass of wine. “Once my girl is recovered, I can tell she will give a fantastic ball.”
“Sometimes I am reminded of your mother whenever I look at Y/N”, says he, contemplative. “She has such a merry and firm spirit within that is hard not to be captivated. Helaena would have liked her.”
Sadness flashes behind Alicent’s eyes. Two children she lost in these years—first, Helaena; second, Daeron—and these losses a mother can hardly be fully recovered of.
“Yes, I like to think so. Had Helaena lived, though, this madness wouldn’t go forward.”
“Madness?”, Otto chuckles. “Aegon the Conqueror was not seen as mad when he took his two sisters as his wife. Regardless whether he did for duty or passion, it was wise to keep blood within the family. A trend the House you married to kept.”
“But not like this. Two husbands…”.
Alicent is baffled by the lack of atonement on her father’s part, but his stare leaves her disconcerted.
“Tell me you wouldn’t have done yourself if you had the opportunity. To be wedded to two Targaryens. And you know whom I speak of.”
The dowager queen chooses the silence. It suddenly appears reasonable not to question your matters of heart so openly…
*
You are just recovering when the door opens and you see Aegon and Aemond breaking through. You blush when seen in this state: dressing in a line nightgown, looking tired and paled after a day breastfeeding your twins.
“Oh! You have returned so soon!”, you’d quickly try to throw your robes over your frame, but Aegon promptly stops you to do so.
“Don’t, Y/N. You must rest. It isn’t as if we haven’t seen you undressed before”, says he with a smug smirk that makes you warm. He strokes your hair before being embraced by you. And Aegon is surprised when you start to weep. “Y/Nickname… what are these tears for?”
Aemond is reclined against your bed’s support watching the scene with the same puzzled expression.
“Have you even been churched?”
“I apologize for my overly emotional react. May be motherhood, but whatever it is… I am overjoyed in seeing you both so well! Does this mean we have won?”
Both brothers look at each other and had not been the glimpse of mischief you spot in their gaze, you’d have been despaired.
“Well?”, you insist in not the best of the moods.
“I am uncontestedly the king of Westeros”, says Aegon, very pleased in delivering the news and more so for seeing you smile so brightly. “You’ll know the details later, but first… how have you been?”
It’s when they are told of the children you gave birth to. Jaehaerys and Visenya, very Targaryen names who remit to two of the most powerful Westerosi sovereigns you descend of.
“I like to think Jaehaerys is yours”, says Aemond to Aegon, quite amused before the fact you birthed two children when you married two different men. “And Visenya is mine.”
In this late evening, once everyone is comfortable, you are found in between your husbands.
“Really?”, Aegon chuckles. “Why’s that?”
“Just a feeling I have. But it doesn’t matter this much, does it?”
But you do not take part of the conversation, for exhausted you are, you fall asleep… and for the first time in a long while, it has no green dreams to daunt you…
237 notes · View notes
a-killer-obsession · 3 months
Note
Hey you know im gonna need AFAB she/her reader with a respectful number 9 with some accidental P and desperate T >:3c and if you can work in some F and W elements too well that would be an added bonus
That's a extra large number 9 McHorny Meal with a boytoy, please enjoy your meal!
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Touch of Pollen, Touch of Pearl
Prompt: Sex Pollen + Thighjob + First Time + Body Worship
Additional Tags: afab reader, she/her pronouns, shark anatomy (claspers aka two dicks), masturbation, this came out a little omegaversy lmao, biting, size difference, this is basically a monsterfucker fic, oral (recieving), fingering, forced orgasms, pervert fish?, p n v sex, creampie, cumshot, aftercare, friends to lovers
WC: 7.6k dear god
Event Masterlist
🔞 Minors DNI 🔞
You were a little anxious to say the least, pacing the lawn deck of the Sunny nervously as you waited for the scouting party to return. You'd only been on the crew a few months, but you cared about them greatly, and though the island was uninhabited you still held concerns. As the new botanist for the Straw Hats, born and raised in the New World, you knew how deceptively dangerous even just the plant life on these sorts of islands could be, and you cursed yourself for not insisting you joined the scouting party when you didn't draw a coloured straw to be chosen. Grass was flattened and getting damaged in the straight path you walked back and forth, other members idly sitting around on the lawn or stairs but nonchalantly keeping an eye out as well.
Usopp stood on the stern castle deck near the entrance to the aquarium, a telescope in hand that quickly shifted as he caught movement at the treeline. “They're coming back!” He announced, mouth turning downwards to a pout, “I think something is wrong, Robin's fleur is carrying Boss Jinbei”
You rushed up the stairs and grabbed the telescope to look, pointing it to where he'd been looking. Sure enough Nami and Robin were running towards the ship, Robin's arm's crossed and pink petals swirling in the air as giant hands appeared and disappeared in turns, carefully passing along Jinbei between them to move alongside them. He looked unconscious but you couldn't see any blood from this distance, so it was impossible to tell what was wrong. You could see Robin through the telescope as she spotted you, concern on her face as her mouth began to move. You almost yelped as the voice appeared right beside you, her pretty mouth tickling your shoulder where it had appeared as she spoke.
“[Y/n]! Can you hear me? Nod if you can,” the mouth said in Robin's sweet voice, a little panicked sounding which filled you with worry given her usually calm demeanour during times of crisis. You nodded in her direction, still too small to see her properly without the telescope but you assumed she had an eye somewhere you couldn't see. “Good, listen to me carefully. The three of us got hit with some sort of pollen spores, but it only seemed to affect Boss Jinbei. I'm worried about contamination so tell the others to put Boss Jinbei's mattress in the aquarium, then keep everyone clear of us, I mean it. Even Chopper, we don't know yet how this will affect the others if we still have pollen on us”
You gave a stern nod and turned to the others, who were slowly gathering behind you. “Franky, grab the Boss's mattress and take it to the aquarium then come back here. Nobody approach them when they arrive, I have a theory but right now it's not safe, we don't know how contagious they are”
“But I have to treat Boss!” Chopper cried.
“I know Chopper, but we can't have our brilliant doctor getting sick, Jinbei wouldn't want that,” you told him, making Chopper do his blushy little wiggle dance, “they said they all got hit by pollen so they could still all be covered in it, we need to keep our head about us”
“Okay…” Chopper said sadly, kicking at nothing. Franky returned from moving the mattress and joined the others as they gathered in front of the door to the boy's cabin, leaving plenty of space for the scouting party to ascend the gangplank and head to the aquarium. A giant hand appeared on the deck in a flurry of pink petals as they got close, receiving Jinbei from the previous hand and taking him to the aquarium as a trail of smaller hands received him and passed him through the door and out of sight.
“Robin-cwan! Nami-swan!” Sanji cooed as he ran towards the two women ascending the gangplank with open arms. You caught him by his collar, momentarily choking him as you yanked him backwards, throwing him at Zoro who rolled his eyes and hooked his arms under the cook's armpits to trap him.
“Sanji are you stupid?” You chided, “I told you we have to stay clear!”
“Sorry, my darling! I was caught in a spell of love!” Sanji replied, immediately starting to fight Zoro and setting off a fistfight that quickly ended for both of them with a hard knock to their heads from your closed fists, leaving them to sit on the grass and rub their scalps. Robin was saying something to Nami as they came on deck, and Nami quickly disappeared up the stairs and through the aquarium door.
“Robin! What happened!?” Chopper cried, rearing to go to her.
“It was some sort of mushroom,” she panted heavily from the run and straining use of her devil fruit, who knew how long they'd been running. “Nami stepped on it and it let some sort of cloud of spores out, and then Boss Jinbei started getting sweaty and feverish and collapsed”
“Did you see the mushroom?” You asked, a theory in mind but you needed to check your books and confirm the plant first.
“I did, and I'm guessing you have the same theory as I do about its effectiveness,” she suggested.
“Aye,” You replied confidently. “Sanji, Chopper, go to the kitchen once Robin and I are behind closed doors, use the pulley to communicate with Nami. I don't know the exact nature of what he's being affected by right now, but there are many plants and fungi on the Grandline that only affect males, so I believe us women are safe, as well as Brook I believe, since he doesn't have the capacity to be affected by drugs. Brook, go take Nami's place so she can shower, tell her to rinse her clothes and make sure she scrubs her hair well, Robin and I will go to the library to confirm the mushroom”
“What about the rest of us?” Luffy asked, pinky up his nose casually. You were glad to have such a laid back captain who had no problem giving up power at a time like this.
“The rest of you stay in the boy's cabin till someone comes to get you,” you ordered, already starting to leave, Brook long since run off to relieve Nami. “You have to all stay here till there's no chance of contamination. It shouldn't take long, just until Nami and Robin are clean, but under no circumstances is anyone other than myself, Robin, Nami or Brook, permitted to enter the aquarium. Even if Jinbei is cleaned we won't know if what he has is contagious to the rest of the men on board anyway”
“Right!” Usopp declared, hands on hips, pretending that he wasn't terrified and unbelievably relieved that he could just go hide in his bed.
You hurried off to join Robin, the two of you rushing up the stairs, the sound of footsteps and little hooves a safe distance behind you as Sanji and Chopper headed to the galley. You rushed to your shelf and pulled out a few books while Robin described the mushroom in great detail. Small, fat head, vibrant purple, blue spots, bulbous, she described it as being the relative shape and size of a dog's penis, which seemed oddly specific but you didn't question it. Robin searched through one book while you searched another, until she, with her undeniably impressive research skills, found a diagram of the mushroom she'd seen and slid the book across the table for you to decipher the technical jargon that she only particularly understood, being that this wasn't her field of knowledge.
“This isn't good,” you bit you lip as you recognized the page and remembered what you knew of it, “he's been hit by a powerful aphrodisiac, and just as we thought it only affects the males of species that procreate through sexual reproduction”
“It probably bolsters species numbers so it has more corpses to feed off,” Robin said nonchalantly. You shuddered at the incredibly morbid observation but she was probably right. “How will it affect Boss Jinbei?”
“His body is telling him right now that he needs to breed,” you sighed, scanning the page and reading the lists of side effects and potential treatments. “He's essentially going into the mammal equivalent of a rut. It says here the effects can last up to four days until-” you re-read the passage over and over hoping you were reading it wrong but disparingly it remained the same.
“Until what?” Robin asked with great concern as she noted your hesitation.
“Until his body gives out from the strain and he dies,” you replied, voice shakey. Robin was cold and silent as she processed the statement, logical mind in overdrive as she looked for a solution, separating herself from her feelings to keep her wits about her as she often did in situations like this. “What happens when animals are exposed?” She finally asked. “If it wants them to reproduce, surely it doesn't just kill them?”
“It says they mate several times and the effects wear off, if they don't find a mate the mortality time frame is two to seven days depending on the size of the animal,” you reported, slumping into a chair in defeat, already mourning the loss of the helmsman you'd come to really care for. Really, really cared for. Now that you were losing him, your heart was going into overdrive and you regretted never telling him how you really felt. Would he even be coherent enough to understand if you told him now?
“So he just needs to mate then,” Robin said matter-of-factly, like it was no big deal, shaking you from your self-immolating spiral. You brows shot up in surprise, like she wasn't suggesting the fishman just needed to get laid to save his life. “Do you want to do it or shall I? Nami is only interested in women, I don't believe she'll be of help here.”
“Robin!” You exclaimed, vibrant blush spreading on your cheeks as you considered what it might be like to lay with Jinbei. So strong… so… big… it wasn't like it was the first time you'd thought about it either. Robin quirked a brow, she could practically see the cogs turning in your head.
“You like him, don't you?” She smiled knowingly. You gave a frustrated huff and crossed your arms but didn't correct her, making her giggle. “I'll leave him in your care then. I should go shower, but I'll update Chopper on the situation afterwards and say what he says”
“Robinnnn, I can't-” you complained, “I mean… he's not in his right mind, what if he hates me after?”
“I can assure you that Boss Jinbei will probably be the one apologising profusely afterwards,” she smiled, “he'll probably blame himself and claim he took advantage of you. It'll be fine, [y/n], I think he'll be thankful you did it instead of letting him suffer and die. It's not the worst thing to happen, he is quite fond of you after all”
“He is?” You blushed, picking at your cuticles under the table.
“He told me himself he thinks you're quite beautiful,” she assured you, no hint of untruthfulness or malice in her voice. “I should warn you though, I've discussed fishman anatomy with him in great detail for my research and you may find he is quite unlike any human you've been with”
“Ah, yes.. because I have definitely slept with other humans,” you mumbled sarcastically. Robin took a seat next to you and rubbed your hand reassuringly.
“[Y/n] my dear, are you a virgin?” She asked softly, no hint of mockery in her voice, only quiet concern.
“... yes,” you replied in a small voice. She made a little sigh and rubbed the back of your hand with her other, your palm sandwiched between her soft warm ones.
“Are you sure you want to do this then?” She asked, “I don't want you to be uncomfortable. It's a lot to ask of someone even if they had experience”
“It's okay, I think, if it's him,” you replied with a heavy blush, “it's not that I never wanted to, I just never had the opportunity, given my… coloured… history. I've done… some things… just never the whole way. What do you mean thought by ‘he's unlike a human’?”
“Ah,” Robin smiled softly at you, “you see, Boss Jinbei is a whale shark fishman. His genitals are quite like that of a whale shark.”
“Meaning?” You pressed.
“Meaning, he has claspers instead of a penis,” she explained. You cocked a brow, not missing the plural.
“Claspers, multiple?” You asked.
“Yes, two of them,” she answered causally with that usual sweet smile of hers like she hadn't just dropped a bombshell. You must have been cherry red at this point, your face hot with flush. “There is also something else,” she continued, and you wondered how she could possibly have anything more shocking to say than dropping than Jinbei has two dicks. “You are aware of how some mammals lock together during mating, yes?” You nodded anxiously, already seeing where this was going, “Claspers have a similar process, so you may find a little discomfort as he finishes”
“Oh, okay,” you blinked, trying to recall every moment in your life that led to this bizarre scenario. That's what you get for staying on the Grandline you guessed. “What do I… um… what do I do? I mean how do I… how do I please him?”
“Just follow his lead,” Robin assured you, “I'm sure despite the pollen he will be a gentleman. Boss Jinbei has a strong will, a little horniness isn't going to be enough to make him hurt you”
“Okay,” you replied anxiously.
“I'll keep the other's from the aquarium, make sure you shut the pulley hatch though, or the sound will travel,” she winked as she stood, bringing on a whole new round of fluster. “If you change your mind just tell me, I won't judge you if you don't feel comfortable with the situation, I'll take care of him if you find yourself unable to”
“Thank you Robin,” you sighed as you stood, following her out the door. You made your way down the stairs as she headed the other way to head to the bathroom, and you took a deep breath before entering the aquarium. Jinbei was laying on the mattress in the middle of the floor, pushed up against the bar seating that surrounded the mizzenmast running through the center of the room. His kimono was open to the waist, his red sun tattoo on full display, smooth skin dripping with sweat as his chest heaved with heavy breaths. He was unconscious still, Brook carefully dabbing at his forehead with a cold damp cloth.
“Ah! [Y/n]-san! Do you have news?” Brook asked hurriedly, resting the cloth over Jinbei's forehead as he turned his attention to you. You sat on one of the bench seats that lined the half moon room, blue aquarium lights colouring the room in soft lighting that would be romantic under other circumstances.
“We know the mushroom that he was affected by, and we were correct in thinking it only affects males,” you looked at Brook, “sorry, males within their fertile age range.” Brook nodded for you to continue, not taking offense to your attempt at not immasculating him, he understood what you meant. “I can help him, he'll be okay, but I'll need some privacy for the rest of the day and evening. The treatment is quite delicate, I don't think he'd like others seeing him in that position”
“It sounds like you're going to torture him,” Brook half laughed, and you struggled to force a smile for him to keep it lighthearted. In reality, Jinbei's current position, laid out and panting, half clothed and covered in sweat, was having an effect of its own on you, and you felt a little ashamed that you were beginning to look forward to the… treatment… despite the fact that Jinbei was clearly suffering right now. “Shall I leave then?” Brook asked, standing and reminding you how incredibly tall he was.
“Yes, thank you Brook, I can look after him from here,” you hummed, “please ask Sanji to send our dinner up in the pulley as well as plenty of water. I'll also need some clean towels, and probably some more cloths with a bucket of water to wet them”
“Aye aye, [y/n]-san!” Brook gave a mock salute, “please take care of Boss-san!”
“He's gonna be okay, Brook,” you smiled, running a thumb over the back of the skeleton's cold boney hand. You weren't sure if he could feel it but you hoped the motion was comforting anyway. You could tell that Brook was concerned, he was doing his best to come off as nonchalant but you knew he cared a great deal about Jinbei, and could hear the underlying concern in his voice. He gave your hand a squeeze, letting you know he understood the gesture and appreciated it, before leaving to pass on your message and gather things for you.
You pulled your knees up to your chin as you watched over Jinbei. From what the book explained, right now he was going through a process that would usually take several days, his body being pumped full of hormones that would put him into a frenzy when he eventually woke up. For now he would likely be asleep a little longer, so you had a little time to prepare. First you took the towels and bucket of water that were sent up the pulley, setting them aside on a bench with the bucket on the floor. You set the large jug of water Sanji sent up on the bar counter along with the two glasses, and set beside them the lovingly made snacks that were sent up with them. You took the opportunity to eat and drink a little while you could, then, satisfied there was nothing more to be done, you locked the aquarium door, shut the pulley hatch, and removed most of your clothes. They were going to come off anyway, you may as well make it less awkward for Jinbei by doing some of the work now, leaving yourself in only your loose comfortable shirt and panties. You curled up on the mattress beside him, Jinbei making little groans as you pressed against his side. His usually cool skin was almost blistering to the touch, yet it erupted in goosebumps wherever you made contact. You hoped your physical presence could offer him some comfort during his fever dreams, at the very least he would know he wasn't alone when he woke up.
⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆
The mattress shifting underneath you woke you from your unintentional nap, heavy breathing and groans next to you indicating that Jinbei was awake. You realised his kimono was draped over you like a blanket, still warm from being against his feverish skin, but notably that meant he was likely naked. You turned your body to face him, his bare back to you, hand at his front moving frantically, you didn't need two guesses to know why. You could hear his teeth occasionally click together like he was biting air as he made frustrated growls and fisted himself. He nearly jumped out of his skin as you reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder, his smooth skin coated in sweat.
“[Y/n]!” He exclaimed, curling in on himself to hide his shame, “please excuse me! I didn't mean to- I mean I had to- ah, I'm usually more controlled than this!”
“It's okay Boss, you're not in your right mind,” you cooed, rubbing his back soothingly, “you've been dosed with an aphrodisiac, how much do you remember?”
“Ah, we were scouting and then,” his brows furrowed as he tried to fight the horny haze in his brain to concentrate, “Nami stood on something, and there was some sort of cloud, and I felt warm and dizzy. I don't remember anything after that. Ah, are the other's okay?”
“She stood on a mushroom,” you explained, “Robin and Nami are okay, as is everyone else. The mushroom only affects breeding age males, the others are all being kept clear of this room. Right now, you're experiencing the mammal equivalent of a rut. Do you understand?”
“Ah, that does explain my… condition,” he hummed, cheeks flush with embarrassment. Jinbei was strong and brave, even against emperors he showed no fear, but when it came to matters of sexual needs, his confidence was practically stripped from him. He was raised in a generation that instilled a great amount of taboo about all things of a sexual nature, he knew it was just a natural process many experienced and the foundation of how most species continued, but he couldn't bring himself to work past the feeling of shame that sat deep within him for having such desires.
“I know this is… awkward… but you have to let it run its course,” you said softly, “you have to give in, or it'll wear you down till your body gives out. That's why I'm here. I imagine you are… unable to find satisfaction on your own right now, because of the pollen”
“You would be correct,” Jinbei cleared his throat awkwardly, “but I can not ask you to do that. I will die with my honour intact instead, I will not force myself on you because of this”
“Jinbei…” he shivered a little at your use of his name, you only ever called him Boss as many of the crew did, and his name sounded like honey dripping from your tongue. “You won't be forcing me to do anything, I'm offering. I… like you…” your voice cracked a little as you forced out the confession, no time like the present you guessed, especially if this was your only chance to say it. “Robin has offered as well, if you would prefer her…”
“No!” He spooked you a little with the speed he turned over, taking your wrist firmly but not painfully in his large smooth hand, “I, I want you. I woke up thinking about you. Even before I realised you were here, I could smell you, that delicious sweet scent you have,” your breath hitched as he pressed his nose against the crook of your neck, forcing your head to move and unintentionally baring it for him. He took a deep inhale, making a small groan as he caught your scent. “You've always smelt so good to me, and you're so beautiful. So sweet and strong and kind, I care a great deal about you. Which is why I can't take what you're offering, my pearl”
“I can't let you die,” you whispered, pressing your forehead against his as he retracted his face from your shoulder. You shuffled forward so your bodies were pressed together, feeling the long hard forms of his two cocks against your abdomen. It made you ache with need, unconsciously pressing harder against him. “I want you, Boss,” you whispered, “and I want you to be okay. So use me, use my body to fight the pollen, so you can live. You care about me, don't you? Don't hurt me by letting yourself die because of a stupid outdated concept like honour. It's not honourable to let yourself die needlessly, let me help you”
Jinbei made a little whimper as your words soaked in, letting you guide his hand to rest against your ass. You reached down between your bodies, taking his claspers in your small, shaky hand and doing what you could to hold them together, unable to wrap your hand around them properly. He was big, proportional to his large body, each one being about the length and width of your arm from fingertip to elbow, thicker even perhaps, smooth and tapered at the end, witg none of the prominent veins or defined head that a human cock had. He made a stuttered groan as you touched him, his hand flexing on instinct and unintentionally squeezing the flesh of your ass, his hand large enough to cover the whole of your rump. It was just as well he was big, with your face up near his you could barely reach, the base of his cock closer to your knees than your own center, but his cocks were long enough that you could reach the top third of them anyway.
His eyes were shut as you touched him, making restrained groans as you ran your other hand up his chest, till it cupped his cheek, running your thumb curiously over the edge of a tusk. His eyes opened in surprise as you pressed your lips against his, small mouth slotting nicely between his tusks which were smooth against your cheeks. His eyes closed again as he returned the kiss, his lips parting as his tongue pressed against yours, so wide it barely fit in your mouth, sparking arousal at your core at just how big everything about him was. His sharp teeth were no issue as he kept dominance over the kiss, pollen driving his need as he began to buck into your hand, the tips of his claspers finding their way under your shirt till he was sliding against your warm bare skin. Something in him snapped as you let out a needy whine, pollen taking his mind completely as he broke from the kiss and flipped you over so your back was against his front, your core aligned with his. He pressed against your ass, his cocks driving against you as he rutted desperately till he found what he needed, the pair sliding between your thighs and making him growl as he found the pressure he was looking for. He immediately set a fast pace, fucking your thighs hard, hands holding your hips tight as his cocks rubbed firmly against your center, grinding against your clothed clit and making you moan. Your moans only spurred him on more, entirely driven by lust and need, and he could feel the way your panties grew damper with every long pull, the scent of your arousal thicker by the moment and slowly driving him insane.
He made a possessive growl as he tore your panties from your body, making you yelp in surprise, his hands pushing your shirt up roughly and groping your soft breasts as he felt the first drops of your slick against his cocks and made a deep satisfied rubble that reverberated through your chest as he pinned you against him. His claspers were pressed hard against your pussy, slicker with every pull, rolling your clit back and forth between them as they moved, making you whine and squeeze your thighs harder to force more pressure. You couldn't have fought him off even if you wanted to, his hold so tight on you as he moved one hand back to your hip, the other still kneading your breasts and playing with your nipples, that clicking sound of his teeth slamming together returning behind you. A thought occurred to you, knowing he was being driven by instincts right now, and knowing many predator species used their teeth to hold the female during mating.
“Boss, you can bite me if you need to,” you whined, pulling your shirt aside to expose your skin. His nose breezed against your neck again, making you shiver, the clicking sound now right against your ear. Your shirt was suddenly torn open, the remnants hanging weakly from your torso as you felt his teeth nip at your skin. He didn't sink them in like you thought he might, instead just pricking the skin like little needles, barely noticeable past the pleasure he was giving you, making small love bites that only occasionally drew a tiny amount of blood, which he would tenderly soothe with his wide tongue before making a new mark. The deep rumble in his chest continued, almost akin to a purr, making your whole body vibrate pleasantly. He shifted slightly and it had the effect of making one cock zero in on your clit. Previously it'd been sort of ground between them, but now he was making direct contact against it and your coil quickly pulled taught. You fought his hold instinctively against the overstimulation, but unable to escape you had no choice but to let go, gushing over his cocks and shaking hard against him. He groaned as he felt your release and bit your shoulder again, this time holding his teeth almost threateningly against your delicate skin as the ends of his claspers opened like umbrellas and great swathes of cum shot from them, pooling against your thighs and on the mattress in front of you as you made overstimulated whimpers.
His hold only slightly loosened on you, his thick tongue running over your shoulder and neck before shifting so you fell back against the mattress, cum pooling underneath you as the weight on the mattress made it run in your direction. You felt utterly lewd sitting in a pool of his cum, some of it still dripping over your front as you panted, the thick fluid slowly seeping into the bedding below as it cooled. His tongue never stopped moving as he loomed over you, running it over your torso, wide enough that he could envelop an entire breast with one swipe of the wet appendage before sucking it into his mouth, careful of his teeth as he flicked your pert nipples with the tip of his tongue. You were a squirming, panting mess underneath him, the scraps of your shirt pulled from your body leaving you entirely nude underneath him, his tongue travelling further and further down as he licked and touched every part of you. He pushed your legs apart and knelt between them, grabbing your ankles and pulling them up so he could run his tongue over your legs, leaving you with only the upper half of your torso against the mattress as he dangled you practically upside-down. The way he manhandled you made you ache, he could snap you like a twig if he wanted to but his hands were firm and gentle, prying your legs apart as you grew suddenly shy. He gave you a hungry look as he held you open by your thighs, his large hands able to wrap right around them like he was holding no more than a couple of training weights, admiring the vibrant blush on your face as you failed to hide behind your hands, and the way his cum was now coating your hair with the way he was holding you. He kept eye contact with you as he ran his tongue between your folds, making you buck and squirm as he held you tight, lapping at you like you were a frozen treat before zeroing in on your sensitive clit and giving it a harsh suck. The sounds you were making made him rut against nothing, though occasionally you could feel the tips of his hardened lengths against your back whenever his hips jolted forward. The end of his tongue teased against your entrance and you held your breath, overly anxious from having never been penetrated before. He could see your hesitation and despite the cloud of lust, he stopped himself, concerned for your wellbeing.
“Do you want me to stop, my pearl?” He asked, voice husky and deep, making your eyes momentarily flutter shut as you shivered.
“No, don't stop,” you whined, “I just haven't… I've never had anyone there”
“I can avoid that, if you'd like,” he said softly, “there are plenty of other things I can do,” he continued playfully, running his tongue flat over your pussy to emphasize his point.
“No, I want it,” you moaned, reaching up to touch him but unable to reach, arms falling uselessly back to the blankets, “I want you inside me, please Jinbei”
Your hips rolled on their own accord, searching unconsciously for fullness, and his cocks twitched at your neediness. “I'll be so gentle with you, my pearl,” he cooed, the tip of his tongue back at your entrance where you ached for him. He pushed it in slowly, watching your face carefully for any sign of unease or pain, knowing full well his tongue was thicker than any normal human man's cock. He probably should have used his fingers first, but they were impossibly thick as well, so it probably made little difference. At least your previous orgasm had relaxed you a little, allowing him to get about a third of his wide tongue inside you without much resistance, slowly sinking more in as you stretched around it. You were already moaning and writhing at the fill and he hadn't even done anything yet, making a grin spread over his face as he watched you drape an arm over your eyes and grope at your own breast with the other hand.
Finally he hit the thickest part of his tongue, sliding the rest in with relative ease, making you let out a long, deep moan as his tongue began to thrust in and out of you, causing you a type of pleasure that was entirely unfamiliar to you. He barely had to move, making agonizingly slow, shallow pulls and thrusts with his tongue that had your pussy fluttering around him, crying out in pleasure while your honey pooled on his tastebuds. He curled it inside you, pressing against your spongey g-spot and making you see white as you suddenly came again without warning, gushing on his tongue, making him groan as he made lewd slurping noses and drank your release.
“You're doing so well, my pearl,” he praised as he removed his tongue, giving you one more wide stripe of it before lowering your pelvis to his lap as he licked his lips. You could feel his claspers, hard and twitching against your back. Your legs were either side of Jinbei, soaked pussy pressed against his front by design, arousal catching on his curly black tuft of pubic hair as your chest continued to heave with every heavy pant. Your ass was pressed against the base of his cocks, and from this position you could feel how they reached all the way to your upper back, to the bottom of your shoulder blades. There was no way you could take him, it was physically impossible, but you couldn't help your curiosity as you wondered what it might feel like for him to fill you with what he could, especially given the nirvana you'd found with his tongue alone. One of your hands stayed drapped over your face, unable to bring yourself to look at him, embarrassed by how debauched you must look. The other you slid under your back, making Jinbei grunt as you found a clasper and stroked it experimentally.
“Jinbei,” you whined, “want you~”
“Are you sure, my pearl?” He asked hesitantly, bringing a thumb to your wet cunt and pressing it gently against your swollen clit, making you squeak. You could feel how hard he still was underneath you despite how much he'd cum earlier, the pollen needed more from him, he needed another release, and you wanted it too.
“Want you inside me, please,” you moaned, rolling your hips to grind yourself against his thumb. Jinbei's teeth clicked together again, and he shook his head as he fought the suffocating cloud of lust the pollen was causing. Everything in his brain was telling him to grab you hard and use your body till you were fat with his babies, but he couldn't do that to you, so small and fragile and trusting under his strong hands. You finally pulled your arm away from your face enough to look at him, peeking out from beneath your forearm, eyes blown out with lust, your lip millimeters from bleeding as you bit down on it.
“Fuck,” he huffed, knowing full well he couldn't deny you when you were looking at him like that. You shivered with anticipation, you were sure you'd never even heard him swear before, and it made your pussy drip knowing it was your expression alone that made the usually polite, well mannered gentleman curse. He wasn't even sure at this point if it was the pollen or just your body squirming under him that made him feel so aggressively horny and possessive of you, seeing the perfect half moons of small red dashes that littered your skin from his teeth, marking you as his. He wanted all of you, and the way you gripped his cock told him how much you wanted all of him too.
He slid his hand under your rump for just a moment, freeing the clasper you weren't holding, pulling it to the front and letting it fall heavy against you with a wet slap. The base of it gave you something to grind against, which you did eagerly, lubricating him with your arousal while his tip laid between your breasts, precum dripping from it and dribbling down towards your neck. You looked at him as you teasingly craned your neck, swiping your tongue over the end and gathering some of the salty fluid that leaked from it, feeling it pulse against your abdomen as more fluid leaked onto your tongue. You let yourself lay back again, ass still raised in his lap as you grinded against him, licking your lips as you held eye contact. He made a little growl, undeniably turned on by what you'd done, then he grabbed you with a hand under your back and the other under your ass, scooping you up and moving you easily as though you weighed nothing, seating you on the long bench that bordered the aquarium. Your body was almost as blue as his under the soft lighting, and his hands pressed against the underside of your thighs, pushing them up and out so your cunt was on full display for him, pussy slightly gaped from his thick tongue and glistening with honey. He had you practically folded in half, chest and head pressed against the back of the padded bench, ass at the edge of the seating, legs in the air. You would have been embarrassed by how exposed your cunt was but the hungry way he was looking at you overrid any inclination of shyness. He lowered his face to your pussy and ran a wide stripe up it again, letting his tongue continue upwards, running over your stomach and between you breasts, lapping up his own precum until his tongue reached your mouth and he captured your lips in a hungry kiss.
He used the kiss to distract you as he slid two thick fingers inside your pussy, pumping you slowly and scissoring them to stretch you out, the webbing between fingers catching against your edges and assisting with the stretch. He added a third, swallowing the whine you made at the slightly painful stretch, which faded back to pleasure as you adjusted to him. He brought his cocks up to rest against your stomach and you reached between your bodies to take one in each hand, stroking them the pace he was setting with his fingers even if you couldn't fit your hands right around them.
Satisfied you were open enough to take him, he sat back on the balls of his feet, fisting his claspers together in one hand, his hands big enough to reach around both at once with no issue. You bit your lip as you looked at them, so impossibly big, and it was like he could read your mind as he ran a soothing thumb over your inner thigh.
“I don't expect you to take all of me, my pearl,” he assured you, “just some of one will feel devine I am certain. Are you ready my love? You can say no, I won't be upset with you.”
You nodded and bit your finger nervously, letting your knees fall outwards to spread yourself as wide as you could, feet resting on the curved bench either side of you. He took a clasper in each hand, guiding one to rest against you while he positioned the other at your entrance. “It may hurt a little at first, but only for a moment. You'll tell me if it gets too much, right?”
You nodded again and he gave you a soft smile, running a hand up your chest till it cupped your face, holding you so very gently and rubbing his thumb over your cheek and lips as he began to slide his cock inside you. He'd prepared you well, but there was still some amount of stretch, a slight stinging pain as your entrance widened to its limits. He saw the pained expression on your face and cooed soft praises, moving as slowly as he could until he felt his tip press against your cervix, pulling back a little so he wouldn't hurt you by pressing against it. He stayed deadly still until the pain written on your face melted, your expression falling back to pleasure as you appreciated just how full you were with his body connected to yours. When your eyes opened, not even realising you'd closed them in concentration, you found him looking at you with such pride and devotion that you couldn't help but offer him a half-lidded smile, which he returned with his usual toothy grin, making your heart soar.
“Are you ready now, my love?” He asked softly, his smile making you feel significantly less nervous, remembering that this was Jinbei, and you were safe with him.
“Y-yes,” you replied, biting your lip as he began to drag himself back out of you, and gripping the fabric of the bench below you hard as he sunk back in. His pace was agonizingly slow for both of you, barely half of his cock shealthed, the other clasper resting heavily against your abdomen and grinding against your clit with every thrust, meeting with the buldge in your abdomen that made Jinbei's eyes roll back every time he saw it, aroused by seeing himself so deep inside you.
Bit by bit he increased his pace as you grew more comfortable, whines turning to strings of loud moans and cries of his name, making tears in the fabric of the seating below you as your nails sank into it while you held on for dear life. Your entire body was being rocked back and forth as he fucked you, pollen slowly winning out over his better judgement as he lifted one of your legs and nipped at the calf. He had to put all his will power into keeping himself from sinking any deeper into you, but your hot wet walls felt so tight and devine around his cock, the soft skin of your belly giving pleasant friction to the other. The hand not holding your leg was resting at the top of the bench over your head for support, wood creaking under the strain as it threatened to break. He couldn't help but blush when he looked up and saw the fish in the aquarium watching him, a small audience as he fucked you senseless.
“Jinbeiiii,” you whined, pulling his attention from the voyeuristic fish, “I'm- I'm gonna-”
“Let go for me, my pearl,” he groaned, “I'll be right there with you, you're doing so very well”
You went practically silent as you saw white, body arching off the bench and seizing, hands reaching out and grabbing at forearms, sinking your nails into them as you came hard. You felt a swelling inside you as his clasper opened, vaguely registering through your haze as the other opened against your belly, liquid spraying out over your breasts and neck, some even splashing against your face, while more still filled you and dripped from your overstuffed cunt as Jinbei groaned and stilled. Both of you went slack, Jinbei's cocks slipping from on and in you and slapping against his thighs wetly as he pulled away, hands either side of you to keep him from crushing you. He kissed you softly, both of you unable to do any more than exhausted soft pecks in the intense afterglow of your orgasms, cum dripping down your center and leaking from your cunt, pooling on the floor beneath you as he helped you sit up a little better. He looked at the fish above you and gave them a little growl, the school quickly dissipating at threat of being eaten.
You weren't sure how long the two of you sat there in silence, panting heavily and exchanging soft kisses. At some point he redressed, using the cloths and towels you'd prepared earlier to clean you both up as best he could. He frowned at your clothes, torn in his lust-addled haze, making note to himself to replace them, before taking the cape from his kimono and wrapping it around you. He sat on the bench next to you and pulled you into his lap, and you giggled as he hand fed you snacks and water, smiling to himself at how cute you were, a light dusting of pink on his cheeks that you still seemed so trusting of him after the relatively hard fuck he'd given you. His mind felt a lot clearer, the pollen now worked out of his system, but he couldn't find any ounce of regret at what had happened, and neither could you.
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buckysegan · 6 months
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We've been waiting for you, John Egan
summary: there's more waiting for john when he gets back from stalag luft iii. john egan x she. word count: 2.1K a/n: something in me felt a little feral tonight and this was needed. a little curvy fmc mention but nothing too much. i just love john egan and would give him all my babies i guess??? again we're rolling with some historical inaccuracies. a continuation from here
it had been five hundred and fifty one days. that was how long it had been since she had seen major john egan. that long since she had slept a whole nights sleep without worrying. that long since she'd known what i was like to be really settled. she tried not to think about it, how much time had passed and how hope seemed to get a little bit worse with each passing day. but it was so hard when she had such obvious proof of just how much john was missing whilst he was away.
she hadn't even realised at first, what the signs were. she had been so consumed in work with more pilots to care for in the hospital than ever before she had barely noticed that she was tired. the nausea was just a sure sign of how much she was missing john. she was confident of it. despite her not eating, the swell of her already generous hips was inconsequential compared to the rest of her worries so she barely paid attention to any of it.
it was douglass, sweet douglass that made the first joke about how if he didn't know better with how often he'd seen her run away to throw up he'd assumed she was pregnant. after that it hadn't taken long for the room to fall silent and for everyone to slowly do some of their own math. the other nurses has scooped her up, rushed her away to the infirmary and sat with her as she did her own calculations on what had happened. three months since she had last bled. dear god.
she should have been sent home. everyone around her knew that was likely when her bump started to show under her uniform and she was ready too, to be sent home and discharged, but the hundredth had always been an unruly bunch and it was almost as if no one could bare to send her away just in case. what would egan do if he got back and they weren't here? no one asked her, who the father might have been, everyone knew without anyone having to utter the words, hardin pulled plenty of strings to keep her around for his boys.
weeks of knowing, turned into months and each of the men around her stepped up in place of their friend. blakely rubbed at her shoulders when she looked a little tired. crosby was around day or night to fetch anything she might have needed. rosie tossed out baby names for girls and boys alike, offering sincere ones and ones that he knew would make her laugh. jack left the traded jacket for her on her bed and no one said a damn thing when she wore it around base. each of them did their best but when she laid on her bunk at night, hands cradling her bump it didn't take away the longing for her major.
those quiet times were when she let herself imagine what it would be like if all of this was happening at different times. how much larger johns rough hands would look splayed across her stretched stomach. just how good he would be at building things ready for the baby and preparing for their impending arrival. the soft spoken words that would have been offered in encouragement through her doubt.
it was two hundred and eighty two days since she had seen john, when the screams of a baby boy filled out a hospital wing and cheers of the hundred went up at the sound. a new soul welcomed into the world and surrounded with so much love despite the fact his dad was stuck somewhere out there.
jokes were passed around at the spirit of baby egan and the hope that he offered for the men. every time the men went up, there he was in the tower reminding them what they were all fighting to come back for. what good in the world still made it all worth while. as cheesy as she had always found it, she knew that the saying it took a village to raise a child had never been truer than it was here in thorpe abbotts.
gale cried when he saw them for the first time. the woman he knew his best friend had been fighting for and the bundle of brown curls in her arms. guilt flooding him that john had allowed him to escape when he had this to return home too. a family. a pair of matching blue and a smile that warmed his heart waiting for him to make it back. he told her as much, that he was sorry and it should have been bucky that made it home and she was quick to remind him that, john egan, wouldn't be the man either of them loved if he had ever left buck behind.
the days seemed to be longer now gale had made it home and she was still waiting on her bucky. each laugh her son offered and mile stone he hit causing a contradiction of emotions in her. joy that she got to witness it all and devastation john was missing it all.
it had been five hundred and fifty one days. that's how long she had been counting when blakely flew into the hospital, douglass and crosby on his tail. "john's home." the two words alone were enough to make her knees buckle as she looked back at the trio, who were all seemingly holding their breaths as they waited for her to respond. she would have cried, with joy, with relief, with the overwhelming sense of emotion that flooded through her. she was going to cry, she was sure of it but right now she needed to see john and she needed to make some introductions. with gale still away on relief mission, everyone knew who john would be asking for first.
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bucky could feel something was wrong the second he landed. people had been happy to see him for sure, but there was a buzz around the boys. they were all looking at each other, over him, like they were all sharing a secret he couldn't be privy to right now. it was driving him crazy and that was saying something.
"buck alright?" he found himself asking because if anyone liked to tiptoe around him, it was usually around his best friend but everyone seemed to jovial for that to be the case. even kenny was here with that god damn stupid grin on his face that the rest of them seemed to be wearing. what was he missing?
"yea bucks fine, he's flying today but nothing to worry about, just dropping supplies, we just thought there might be someone else you wanted to see." blakely offered with a nod of his head, and john was sure his face was a continued picture of confusion as he watched the men part like some sort of celebrity was on base but his frown quickly vanished as he saw her. the last time he had seen her this clearly she had kissed him goodbye before they had dragged themselves away from each other.
"we've been waiting for you, john egan." god her voice was even sweeter then he remembered but it was the we in her statement that drew his attention to the small bundle in her arms. a baby. a boy by the looks of it and he felt his stomach drop. she had moved on, of course she had. without him around he wasn't surprised that someone else had scooped her up. he moved to look at each of his men, trying to find which one looked guilty but he was met with more excitement, a little confusion even, what were they surprised he was heart broken she hadn't waited for him.
"you going to stand there all day or are you going to come meet him?" she asked, voice soft as she raised a hand to him and bucky moved towards her without much of a thought because no one seemed ready to stop him and his fingers linked with hers as soon as they were in reach. "you had a baby." john smiled down at her softly, eyes full of wonder as he looked at the small version of herself that she had created.
" i sure did." she nodded with a smile the men hadn't seen in months, the one reserved just for bucky. "i'd like you to meet thomas gale egan." time stood still for a moment then, john was sure of it as he looked between her and the baby she was holding, his blue eyes taking in each feature of the infant before him. their eyes matched he realised after a moment, the dark curls on his head were the wrong shade to be hers, they were his. she was holding his son. "baby...you had my baby?" he asked, as if he needed some sort of further confirmation of what his eyes at told him.
"mhumm, i told you, we've been waiting for you, do you want to hold him?" she offered, her face a mirror of the men around them, all smiles and joy and as john took tommy in his hands with such care she stopped trying to fight the tears that had been ready to spill since she'd heard he was home. with tears rolling down his own cheeks john took in the baby that watched him with what he hoped was quiet wonder, he had a whole baby boy that he had never known about and he was perfect. "thomas gale egan, it sure is good to meet you." reaching a spare arm around her bucky pulled his girl close to his side, unable to move his gaze from his son.
"alright any of you clowns going to tell me what else i missed whilst i was gone?"
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he had been sure that he would sleep for hours when he returned to base. that his body would crash and that he would need time to recover but he had never felt more wired than he did as he stretched out in bed. it had taken john far to long to shake the rest of the boys, listening to stories of how each of them had helped his girl at some point. stories of all tommy's firsts since he had been born, the photos they'd managed to get all offered to john so he could piece together the time he had missed.
he'd stepped away from them only to check on gale when he had landed who had offered him the biggest grin and wondered if he had met his name sake yet, john still unable to believe she had named their boy so well.
nothing about his should have surprised him though, she was perfect, she had been before he had gone and now as he watched her tucked into his side sleeping softly like her own body could finally rest. tommy was spread across his chest, warm skin to skin, sound sleep on him with his little mouth wide opened as he showed no sign of being anything other that utterly content as he slept on his dad, one of john's hand spread across his tiny back taking up the whole space but to afraid to let him or his mom go as if either of them might vanish on him.
feeling her stir a little in his arms john pulled his gaze from tommy for a second to meet sleepy eyes, his chest flooding with more love for her than he had ever thought possible when he'd had to leave her a life time ago now. "you struggling to sleep?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep as she checked on tommy for a second before her eyes met john's once more. "i'm scared i'm still in that camp and neither of you are real." his confession was quiet as he offered it and with a soft hum, she pushed gently, pressing her lips to his. "sleep daddy, we will both be here in the morning."
"i just want to watch him a little longer." john offered quietly, tucking her back into his arm so she could sleep once more. if he never slept again it wouldn't be a shock to him. how he was ever meant to stop looking at this? well bucky just didn't know. "thanks for waiting for me, baby." he offered, to her sleeping form, lips pressing a kiss to the top of her own curls. he'd been waiting for them too, he'd just not known how to dare dream of it, till they were here in his arms.
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melrodrigo · 6 months
Text
needles - tara carpenter
Tara Carpenter x Fem Reader
A/N: A little drabble bcz god knows we need it in this drought
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“But baby I don’t wanna!” You whine, gripping Tara’s arm and burrowing yourself into her.
You feel the vibrations of her giggle before you can hear it, that silent wheeze that belongs only to your girlfriend.
“I know you don’t want to, but it’s good for you. I promise i’ll be right here.” She mummers, trying not to draw attention to the two of you.
You’re sat next in line for a vaccine shot, and although you know it is good for you, you hate needles.
“Ugh. God really gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers.” You announce dramatically.
Tara smirks just the slightest; and you poke her in the sides.
“Is this really your toughest battle?” She teases.
“I’m just a girl.” You grumble, heart picking up as the nurse gestures that it’s your turn.
“You’re speaking in brain rot right now.” Tara muses, gripping your hand in an attempt to calm you down.
Bless her, it doesn’t.
When you finally get in the seat you swear sweat is dripping down your face. The nurse gives you a small sympathetic smile.
“Not good with needles, dear?” She asks, cleaning her supplies.
You chuckle nervously, embarrassed but relieved that the nurse acknowledged it.
“A little.” You say, and slap Tara when she lets out a snort.
“Is this your girlfriend?” The nurse asks again, not unkindly.
You beam, looking over at Tara. She’s as pretty as ever, her long brown hair messy because of the wind.
“Yeah. I’m the luckiest girl in the wor- ah!” You yell in surprise, feeling a prick at your arm. You don’t dare look down.
Tara stifles another chuckle, and you send her a glare.
“Sorry about that sweetheart, I find distraction helps most people with Trypanophobia.” The woman says, rubbing your back.
“Aaaand you’re all done. Good job.” Tara whispers as you stand up, a little shaky.
“Stay here for 15 minutes. If you feel nauseous or weird, come find me immediately. If you’re all good, you can leave.” The nurse instructs, nodding for the next person in line to come up.
You nod adamantly, trying to convey that you’re really listening to her. You focus on her eyes, she has really pretty eyes, big and brown like Tara’s.
You feel a little tug at your waist and feel Tara dragging you back a bit.
The both of you find a seat somewhere close to the hospital, arms intertwined.
“Don’t you think that nurse was kind of cute?” You ask mindlessly, thinking back to the scene.
Tara raises an eyebrow, but her little smile tells you she isn’t annoyed. She’s amused.
“I guess. Not really my type.” Tara sighs, moving in closer to you.
She takes her pointer finger and places it on your bottom lip, getting a hitch from you.
“My type is sitting right in front of me.” She says, voice dropping a few octaves. You know what she’s doing, she loves to tease you like this. You’ve always had a weak spot for her voice.
You flush bright red, gulping.
“I only thought she was cute because she looks exactly like you.” You squeak, trying to get yourself out of trouble.
Tara grins, obviously comforted by your statement. “I know. I just wanted to hear you say it.”
She leans in and presses a faint kiss to your lips, tender. She tastes like that Willy Wonka Chocolate Lipbalm you’d convinced her to wear. It doesn’t taste like chocolate.
You laugh against her lips, and she pulls back with a rather big frown.
“You taste yucky!” You say, playfully.
“Excuse me, i wasn’t the one who wanted to wear this.” She banters back, tackling you in a tickle.
You wheeze, tapping her back. You give up way too easily.
“Okay, okay! Fine, it was my fault.” You admit, idea sparking in your head.
“But, I know just how to fix it.” You whisper, and before Tara can ask you, you swipe your hand against her lips gently, taking away all the flavored balm.
You lean down and press another kiss to her, and she just about melts into your arms.
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chaostudee · 2 months
Text
meeting the family, charles leclerc
summary : you are nervous about meeting charles's family but you feel at ease once they welcome you with open arms. warnings : none words :
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༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
charles gave your hand a small squeeze, soothingly rubbing his thumb over your palm as he pulled the car up into the drive. you had charles had now been dating for a year and you both had finally agreed that it was time for you to meet his family. although you were nervous about making a bad first impression you were excited to meet charles's favourite people.
"you okay?" he asked as he brings his hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. he could sense your nervousness.
"what if they don't like me....." you mumble, your inner thoughts being voiced.
charles sighs as he wishes that you could see yourself that he sees you. "i know that you don't believe me but they will love you i promise and even if they don't i love you and that is all that matters"
he places a small kiss onto your hand and you can't help but smile at him. in everyway he was perfect every time he touched you, you couldn't restrain the butterflies that emerged in your stomach.
"you always say the right words" you confess as you place a tender kiss on his lips, one that he greets with a smile.
a few moments later he pulls away.
"you ready?"
this time you nod confidently because now with charles by your side you felt much more relaxed.
charles hops out of the car and he gestures for you to wait as he walks around the opposite side to open your door for you. he grasps your hand as he helps you out of the car.
his childhood home made you gasp in awe. the garden was adorned with ferns and countless flowers and ivy creeped up the walls of the building. you turn to smile at him as you both walk up to the front porch.
charles knocks on the door, taking your hand and giving it one final squeeze.
"i love you" he mouths to which you reciprocate those words.
his mother is the one who opens the door and is immediately take aback by the sight in front of her.
"oh charles come here mon coeur" she gestures for him to give her a hug as she invites him in with open arms. "i missed you maman" he admits as he rests his head on her shoulder. she pats a hand on his back in comfort and then looks up to find you standing there awkwardly.
she pulls away from charles and smiles at you.
"and you must be y/n, god charles won't shut up about you whenever we call". you smile once hearing that and can't help but giggle when you see charles blush at his mothers words.
"come here my dear so good to finally meet you" she also invites you in for a hug which makes you feel simply at ease and when you notice charles give you a thumbs up all the anxieties fade away.
once you pull away from the embrace pascale closes the door and encourages you to come inside to the dining room.
"sorry charles but lorenzo said he couldn't make it because he is working or something but arthur is around here somewhere" pascale looks around, wondering where her son has gone off to.
"don't worry about it mother im just grateful for you for organizing this" he places a kiss on both sides of his mothers cheeks in gratitude.
arthur comes running in and stops in his tracks when he sees you. "omg charles is this y/n" he asks pointing to you.
charles responds nodding proudly at you.
"its so great to finally meet the girl who made this idiot fall madly in love like omg all he talks about is y/n this or y/n that like im so surprised that he hasn't proposed yet". arthur chuckles at his words but you were deep in your own thoughts. did charles actually want to propose to you.
what brings you out of your thoughts is charles hand slipping into your own. "c'mon baby let's sit down".
pascale and arthur join you. arthur sits across from you, pascale beside you and charles on the other side.
charles holds your hand in his lap as he catches up with his family, you listening intently, watching as his dimples showed whenever he smiled. you couldn't stop the blush creeping across your cheeks.
"so y/n tell me about you what do u do for work?" pascale asks as she takes a sip of her wine.
you hesitate and clear your throat before speaking. "well i've just finished medical school and now im looking for a nursing job in monaco so me and charles can be together when he's home". you turn to look at charles and he rubs your cheek comfortingly.
"she forgot to mention that she attended harvard" charles added never failing to voice your accomplishments.
"wow y/n im impressed" pascale reponds smiling at you and taking your hand. "i also have to thank you for taking such good care of my son and making him happy, i havent seen him smile this much in years".
you place your hand on top of hers. "it helps that i love your son very much and that his mother raised him right".
charles smiles at the scene before him, his girlfriend and mother bonding but he is brought away by a glipmse of arthur in the corner of his eye. arthur is holding up the left hand and pointing to wedding finger to which charles just rolls his eyes at him. truthfully he had been thinking about it and he was actually going to casually bring it up to get your thoughts about it.
after dinner had ended charles had offered to clean up, along with you also. you and charles had come up with a system. charles washes and you dry. as charles hands you a dirty dish you notice him give you a cheeky grin.
"why are you smiling at me like that?" you giggle as you bring the cloth to dry the plate.
charles stops scrubbing and pauses. "i'm just happy that tonight went well, my mum really likes you".
"i'm happy too"
charles sighs in relief. "i told you it would all work out".
he places a kiss to your forehead before returning to the dirty dishes.
༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆𖦹.✧˚
pascale pulls you and charles in for one last embrace and you both earn a wave from arthur as you both exit the house.
"take care you two" pascale calls out as you and charles walk down the steps to the car.
"you too" you call back giving one last wave before charles helps you into the car.
once charles had hopped in he started the car and you were off. you couldn't keep your eyes off him as he turned the wheel and moved the gearstick. in noticing that he took your hand and brought your knuckles to his lips.
maintaining his eyes on the road he speaks. "you know i love you right?"
you chuckle because anyone who had eyes could see that it was blatantly obvious. "i know and i love you too"
charles smiles to himself. he briefly flicks his eyes to you. "i'm going to marry you someday"
it was like all the breath left your lungs when he says those words. but those words excited you.
"pls say something" charles urges unsure if what he had said upset you.
"charles from the minute i saw you i knew i was going to marry you".
charles bites his lip before placing a hand on your thigh.
in this moment there was nothing that could make you happier than you are now. with your boyfriend beside you and a hopeful future ahead you couldn't wait to see what was in store for you.
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lxkeee · 7 months
Text
⋆.˚ . FLY ME TO THE MOON ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚.
—PART FOUR
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Archangel Raphael! Fem! Reader
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Notes: finally, a divorced man meets a divorced woman.
PART ONE | PART THREE | PART FIVE | MISC.
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Nothing too interesting happened for the last couple of months, work on earth, do paperwork in heaven, repeat.
Scratch that, something did happen.
[Y/n] looked at her hand, seeing the gold band that was usually on her ring finger was now placed on her middle finger. A symbol of individuality and responsibility. She and Azrael finally got divorced—for shits and giggles. Just kidding. Azrael found love that's why and he and [y/n] it was time to end this marriage of theirs and remain friends. Azrael is now dating this cute principality angel named Francis. She supports them. She even set them up lmao.
They still continue doing their usual routine of spending their free time in each other's places (more on spending time at her home) and gossip.
She has to find her own love someday. [Y/n] sighs softly. Eyes staring outside her office window.
Today is the extermination day. She hopes Adam fucks up during it.
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It was rather boring for the rest of the day. She was just flying around heaven and seeing if the order was maintained. [Y/n]'s eyes widened when she saw Emily showing someone around heaven. Someone familiar.
That's right! She saw this snake man during the meeting when Charlie was showing about Angel's progress.
He looks different though.
Her eyes widened, realization dawning upon her.
He got redeemed.
Blinking her eyes, eyes sparkling in excitement.
She calms herself down first, she needs to confirm it.
Flying next to Emily, the girl slightly jumps in surprise to see [y/n]. Despite the woman being one of god's seven virtues, Emily sees her as an older sister figure.
“Hi [y/n]! Nice to see you here, it has been awhile since I've last seen you!” Emily says excitedly, eyes sparkling and wings flapping from excitement from seeing the older woman. The man beside her just looked in confusion.
“Hello Emi, dear. I just so happen to have some free time so I was just flying around. Is this a new soul you're showing around?” [y/n] asked, smiling softly at the girl and the girl squealed.
“Yes! Actually, this man right here. Was a sinner and got redeemed! Isn't that amazing!” Emily says and [y/n]'s eyes widened and smiled, smirking a bit before returning it to a genuine smile. The confused snake just staring back and forth between the two girls.
“Really? Now, isn't that surprising. This... This changes everything.” [y/n] says with a whisper before turning to look at the redeemed soul.
“Tell me, mister. What is your name? As one of the seven virtues, I would like to know the name of the first sinner ever to be redeemed.” [y/n] says curtly and bows at him gracefully.
“I am Sssir Pentiousss... It is a pleassure to meet you... Misss?” Sir Pentious greeted, though a little awkward but cute.
“Greetings Sir Pentious, I am Raphael. An archangel and one of God's seven virtues. But you can call me [y/n].” [y/n] says with a small smile, offering her hand for a handshake which Sir Pentious accepted.
[Y/n] looked at her watch that's on her wrist, pretended to look worried. “As much as I want to stay and chat. I have somewhere else to be. Emily, Sir Pentious. It was nice seeing you two.” [y/n] says frantically, although just pretending.
Emily nodded and tried to calm the panicking archangel, “It's alright Miss [y/n], we can catch up later.” she says and [y/n] smiles and places a gentle kiss on the girl's forehead.
“Alright, have fun. And Sir Pentious?” [y/n] calls out to the man and he looks at her with confusion. “Welcome to heaven, I hope you'll enjoy your stay.” she says and quickly waves goodbye and flies away.
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A meeting was then held with the seven virtues, they discussed what they should do next now that Charlotte Morningstar's hotel has worked. They agreed to put Sera on a trial but won't punish her severely like Lucifer.
“Adam's dead?” Camuel asked, shocked and [y/n] nodded.
“Apparently. Based on the exorcists' reports. Manz gone.” [y/n] says with a shrug and a lazy smirk.
“Finally!” Azrael laughs, the others just smirking.
“Good riddance.” Michael says calmly though a slight smirk on his face.
“What's our next course of action?” Gabriel asked, crossing her arms.
“Since this hotel the Morningstars are offering seems to work then there's only one thing we can do next.” Uriel says, sighing.
“Can't believe it actually worked. I guess we were wrong on how we treated Lucifer.” Camuel says and the others just shrug and sigh.
“We support this. We'll have to make sure this hotel keeps on working.” Jophiel says.
“[y/n].” Michael calls out and [y/n] can already tell where this is going.
“No.” she deadpans and Michael deadpans at her in return.
“What do you mean no? I haven't even asked yet.” Michael deadpans, Azrael chuckling beside [y/n].
“I just have a feeling I won't like it.” [y/n] says with a frown on her face.
“Too bad, you're doing it anyways. I want you to go down there and make sure to keep track of the hotel's progress.” Michael says sternly making [y/n] whine, she drops her head onto the circular table they were all sitting in. Groaning.
“More work? I don't wanna.” she says with a groan. Gabriel laughs.
“This can be an opportunity to get closure with you know who?” Uriel says with a chuckle.
“The fuck is closure? I don't need it.” [y/n] says, rolling her eyes.
“I think this is your chance [n/n]. I heard he's divorced lmao.” Jophiel cackles, [y/n] groaning once more.
“You two are going to be matching or twinsies!” Azrael teases making [y/n] glare at him playfully.
“Jokes aside. You need this [y/n]. Get some closure. We want you to be happy for once and I don't think we can handle more years of you feeling guilty for being so cold during the last time you saw him.” Camuel says softly, giving the girl a thumbs up.
“I better get extra day offs for this.” [y/n] says with a groan.
“Deal.” Michael says and [y/n] sighs.
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It was a few weeks after the extermination that was targeted at the hotel. The hotel has been rebuilt and now looks even better than before. Charlie is happy that she and her friends managed to stop the extermination. There are some new sinners who wanted to give redemption a try so now the hotel is now bustling slightly. Her dad moved in and has a room of his own and helps her manage the hotel.
Currently, the crew are in the lobby just talking. It was already late in the evening and the other guests are now sleeping. Angel, Lucifer, and Husk were at the bar area. Niffty was cleaning, Vaggie and Alastor were on the couch.
Knock, knock, knock.
Loud knocks were heard on the front door of the hotel.
“New guests perhaps?” Alastor says with a grin, Charlie grins excitedly. A new soul wanting to try redemption.
The others just watched the girl walked towards the door, curious who was behind it.
Charlie took a deep breath, preparing herself to greet the new guest.
Opening the door, it was someone she did not expect.
A tall woman (almost the same height as Alastor) was standing by the door, a serious look on her face. What caught her attention was the amount of authority and power emitting from her and... The golden halo on her head and the small angel wings behind her head.
“Good evening Charlotte Morningstar, I came as a messenger from heaven.” the angel says with a grin.
Lucifer's body went pale as he heard that oh so familiar voice.
“[y/n]...” Lucifer murmurs in disbelief, seeing his supposed best friend now in front of the door.
“It has been awhile, Lucifer.” [y/n] says softly, eyes still emotionless. She's actually just dissociating so her eyes are like that, she can't control it okay. She has a serious case of lazy eyes.
“Ooohh drama...” Angel Dust whispers to Husk.
Suddenly an angelic spear was pointed at her throat, she did not flinch nor was afraid. She merely used her finger to move it away.
“What are you doing here?” the gray haired girl asked, glaring at her. [Y/n] just looked down on her with a smile on her face.
“I am just here to deliver a message. The seven virtues would like to support this hotel!” She says with a grin, Lucifer looked at her suspiciously.
Why wouldn't he? The seven virtues didn't listen to him before. So why now?
“Why now? Why did the seven decide to support this hotel just now?” Lucifer glares.
[Y/n] clapped her hands, Lucifer's eyes landing on the wedding band on her middle finger. It's no longer in her ring finger.
Alastor noticed the way the king of hell looked at the newly appeared angel with so much longing in his eyes. Interesting... Alastor grins.
“First and foremost, heaven apologizes for the yearly cleansing. It was a decision Sera, the high seraphim decided without informing us. We do not condone her actions and she would be faced in a trial.” [y/n] says nonchalantly, putting her hands on her pocket.
Lucifer flinches, he didn't know the decision was Sera's alone.
“Secondly, the hotel works.” [y/n] says with a grin.
This made the others look at her with confusion.
“A certain serpent sinner was redeemed. Ironic as the first one to doom humanity was a serpent and the first one to give humanity hope for redemption is also a serpent.” [y/n] laughs softly, Lucifer's eye twitched.
[Y/n]'s words sparked even more confusion with the others.
“Serpent?” Angel Dust asked, taking a sip of his drink.
“Someone who goes by Sir Pentious is now in heaven. Based on my records, he was a sinner before.” [y/n] says, shrugging.
Their eyes widened at the news. Sir Pentious is alive!
“How can we be so sure you're not lying?” Husk asked, raising an eyebrow at the woman. [Y/n] just chuckles.
“It is up to you if you believe it or not, after all... Angels never lie.” she says with a grin, summoning a small notebook from thin air, flipping through the pages of the notebook to scan for her notes.
“Lastly, I will be helping with the hotel during my scheduled time here. I'll be keeping track of the soul's progress here and research how a soul actually goes to heaven as Sir Pentious' case is a rare one and the first one so... We have no data. Heaven hopes to find more info about this case.” [y/n] explained, “I hope we'll get along.” she says with a grin.
Charlie's eyes widened, progress. Her hotel is making progress. Heaven is slowly helping her.
“Excuse me, Miss...?” Charlie softly calls, not knowing the angel's name.
[Y/n] looked at the smaller girl, patting the girl's head.
“My name is [y/n], also known as the archangel Raphael. One of God's seven virtues. It is a pleasure to finally meet you officially, Ms. Morningstar.” [y/n] introduces herself gracefully. Lucifer is still in awe in how fast she climbed the ranks.
Charlie nodded, finally happy to know the woman.
“Is there a way for us to visit Sir Pentious?” she asked hopefully, the others leaning in and hoping the same thing. [Y/n] closes her notebook, a loud sound sounding from it.
“I am sorry, heaven currently doesn't accept visitation unless necessary. Although, I can send letters back and forth whenever I visit.” She suggested, Charlie's eyes saddened but returned to hopeful. At least they know Sir Pentious is still alive.
“That would be all. I'll see you next time on my visit to keep track of the progress. Until then.” [y/n] says softly bowing at them. Turning her back and slowly walked away from the door.
Stopping, she didn't turn around to face them again.
“And Lucifer...?” she says, hesitating but her voice is vulnerable. Lucifer's breath hitched and the others just looked at the scene with curiosity. It is obvious these two knew each other based on how they already know each when she first arrived. They can practically sense the tension.
“I was wrong and I am sorry.” she says softly. Summoning her three pairs of wings, large and majestic.
She has wings now... Lucifer thought. His eyes softened when he heard her apologize.
“Wait... [Y/n]—” He called out but she didn't listen.
[Y/n] quickly flies away, a portal opening for her and closes after she enters.
“Did anyone else notice the tension...?” Angel asked, voicing out everyone's thoughts, a smirk on his face. Angel didn't mention that he really felt the unspoken romantic tension between the two angelic beings. He's getting more tea.
“This is getting interesting.” Alastor says with a grin and Lucifer knows that the radio demon just found more ways to torment him.
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End notes: I know some of you read Alastor's line in Zhongli or Childe's voice lmao. And yes, Azrael and reader divorced each other. I had to ship Azrael with my oc okayy, I need Azrael to have some love 💀
TAGLIST:
@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata
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thebadboyfanclub · 6 months
Text
Together As One (Daemon x Reader)
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So this is more a twisted love type of hype, I hope you guys like the way I portrayed this request cause I wanted to give it more of a dark edge since Daemon is definitely a gray character. Hope you enjoy!
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Mothers love their children, everyone could agree upon the unconditional love mothers held for their kind with no doubt in their hearts, songs, poems, plays, and any type of art one can think of have attempted to portray such devotion. None, however, could predict that some mothers have a certain type of fear for their child, like some whisper in the back of their heads warning them about the little glimpse in their eyes that was not like the stars but more of a scorching fire threading to burn everything.
That was the exact feeling Rhaenys had for her beloved daughter, the twin sister of Laenor, it would often baffle her how her husband could not see what was clearly there, (y/n) was always in competition with everyone about everything, the finest clothes belonged to her, she had to ride a dragon first, learn Valyrian faster.
Whilst Rhaenys prayed for her daughter's thirst to settle, the others praised her for her bravery, her determination, and her intellect, something that made (y/n) yearn for more.
“I would like to raise a toast to my dear brother, a married man to our future queen, may your wedlock be blessed with numerous children and a road paved with nothing but joy and success, Prince Daemon, hopefully you are next”
(Y/n) stood with a smile of triumph dancing on her lips before she raised her cup to gently take a sip, as she sat down Daemon's eyes followed her, he was well aware of her game, though he seemed unfazed and almost amused by her comment the truth laid somewhere deeper than the surface, not a single soul in this room would have been able to guess that the delighted twin of now future king consort was playing a game of cat and mouse with none other than prince daemon behind closed doors.
(Y/n) had been relentless in her ways to seduce Daemon, sneaking out at all hours of the night, sending people after him so she could know his whereabouts just so she could magically appear, the combination of sweet wine and her alluring voice was enough for Daemon to stumble and fall right on top of her, taking her for a ride to the addictive roads of lust.
She was stunning, flawless, a true Targaryen that screamed opulence and elegance with a face sculpted by the gods, the common folk would gush over the “oceans Angel” a nickname given by the realm for her angelic features, how would they know how dark her mind could get in order to make everyone yield before her?
-
“Mother”
“Dearest, how are you on this fine morrow?”
“I am well, the little one finally decided to let me get some rest”
“When I was pregnant with you I remember thinking you would kick your way out of my belly, the Apple does not fall far from the tree”
(Y/n)s daughter, Leora, leaned as much as she could to kiss her mother's cheek before she sat down next to her to break her fast, queen Alicent had already taken her seat along with her daughter Heleana and (y/n)s other son Elion, Alicent and (y/n) enjoyed each others presence, a mutual bond based on respect had been build over the years that was sealed by marrying Leora with Aegon and Elion with Heleana.
“The maester said you should drink more orange juice, it will help with the fatigue”
“As well as eat more meat, pregnancy is no easy task, you must be as strong as ever”
Alicent chimed, the birth of her second grandchild was one of the most important events, Alicent adored her first grandchild, beautiful Hael, a strong boy who was just now starting to learn how to walk, still, he had everyone wrapped around his finger.
“I appreciate your concerns but I am fine, healthy as a horse”
“It wouldn’t hurt, let us not risk it dearest”
“I thought once I get older I wouldn’t have to listen to my mother”
“Well I am sorry but that will never happen, drink”
(Y/n) had stepped up and appeared as the perfect mother, loving, kind, and caring, she did love her children, however, what she loved most was the things they could do for her, her firstborn daughter was now the wife of the king first born son, and her son was a strong, skill full knight that served the realm and came back in triumph, how could she not adore her perfect creations?
“How is the king?”
“I am afraid his health is decreasing, the maesters advise him to remain abed for the day”
“Rhaenyra will be questioned, he won’t sit this one out I am afraid”
“Ugh the precious Rhaenyra, I wish I could stay in my chambers until those god-forsaken days pass”
(Y/n)s smile was wiped from her face and in an instant it was replaced with an angry scowl, in a split second her hand had grasped her daughter, Leoras' eyes went wide with fear when they met the angry hues of her mothers.
“You mustn’t speak in such a way, I’ve taught you better”
Leora only nodded frantically, (y/n) had her own opinions over Rhaenyra, she however, knew better than to voice them, not even in such a secluded area of the palace, (y/n)s hold turned from forceful to a caress before she directed her eyes back to her friend and queen Alicent.
“Besides, the king will do as he wishes and if the gods bless him with the strength to stand he should be there, isn’t it right Alicent?”
“I couldn’t have phrased it better, my dear”
-
(Y/n) and Alicent were each other's shadows, one compelled the other and in the end one way or the other the result was one of their favor, (y/n) was disciplined and had mastered the act of a gracious and lovely princess, Alicent was strict and slipped under everyone’s nose as she cloaked herself with the act of a pious queen, the two of them had years up on the horse of being able to maneuver their way around the kingdom so the men would not suspect a damn thing.
Viserys had seemed to get worst which made him unable to attend even when Daemon and (y/n) went to his room to assist him, the king could not even sit up let alone walk, Daemon was disheartened, thankfully for him his dutiful and beautiful wife let him rest on her shoulder and like a soothing salve her encouraging words went over his wound of his beloved older brother nearing his end.
“My Love”
“(Y/n)? What- what has happened?”
“I apologize for waking you up my dear, it is your brother”
“Viserys? What about- no”
“My dear husband, you must be strong, I am so sorry”
(Y/n) grasped Daemon's hands tightly before she brought them up to her lips to kiss his knuckles, of course, she was one of the first to know, Alicent had rushed to her chamber and delivered the news herself, she had waited patiently as the king took his last breath, Alicent told no one, not even the maester, (y/n) had to know before anyone.
“Viserys”
Daemon had been taken over by his thoughts, they’ve always had their differences but at the end of the day, they shared the same mother and father, a bond that could never be broken, no matter how many times Daemon has run off he always ended up by Viserys side.
“My love, I understand that this is too much for you, however, we must prepare our daughter”
“What does Elora have to do with this?”
“She is to be queen, she needs her father”
“Queen? Have you gone mad?”
(Y/n) bit her bottom lip in combination with her head tilting to the side, as if nothing but a mere candle lit her face Daemon could still identify the features that he so adored but now he could not wrap his head around what was his wife suggesting.
“My lord husband, King Viserys has left us, it is only natural for his son to succeed him”
“It is expected for his firstborn, Rhaenyra, to do so, not Aegon”
“Where is the princess? But in a place where she could have visited if she wished, when has she even attempted to come and visit her beloved father who was in agony all these years? She only came when her privilege was at risk and then blamed Alicent who has served by the king's side for his illness”
“This is not a matter to discuss”
“But it is, the gods know I loved Viserys and he had been good to me, but let us not forget he killed his first wife in his desperate attempt for a male heir, he remarried and Alicent gave him an heir and a spare and still it was not good enough, he passed by you and his sons to bury his guilt by calling Rhaenyra the heir, it wasn’t because he trusted her or because he saw something in her, he passed the title on to her because he did not trust you and then because he wanted to wash the blood of queen Aemmas from his hands”
Silence fell upon them, (y/n) pulled away from her husband and headed towards the door, as his hand rested upon the handle she turned her head back to lord husband who was visibly shaken, (y/n) might appear disheartened but she could detect that her monologue had started to creep on to Daemons heart.
“I love you with all my heart, that is why I shall leave you to grieve, if you wish to run to her I will…. Understand, it is not like I ever doubted the unconditional love you have for the realm delight, now might be your chance to pursue it”
Her tone was drowning in sorrow leaving Daemon with an unwavering sense of guilt in a dark room as his wife had disappeared to place her hand over a war of fire and blood, (y/n) was correct, Daemon did love Rhaenyra, still, he did not place his flame for her over what he had built with his wife over the years.
(Y/n) walked away with a smile of triumph, she had done her part flawlessly and now she was certain that Daemon would be by her side before the crown was placed on Aegons head, however, she did not have time to waste, Alicent and (y/n) were the ones to wake the new king and queen, preparing them for what they had destined to be.
“You may enter”
“Prince Daemon is asking to see his daughter and wife, alone”
(Y/n) stopped brushing her daughter's head, carefully placing the golden brush down before she looked down at her daughter who nodded in approval.
“Let him in, do not allow anyone to disturb us”
“Right away”
The girl curtsied as quickly as possible before she disappeared only to be replaced by none other than Daemon. (Y/n) took a sharp inhale through her nose once he entered the room, preparing herself for a mental battle, surprisingly when her eyes scanned for his she was met with a certain lightness, an ease to him that caught her by a pleasant surprise.
Instinctively a small smile played on her lips, her Daemon was dressed in his black attire, leather suited him, and his hair was pulled away from his face the way she always told him to do it.
(Y/n) was not made of stone, she might play like she is though her heart skipped a beat every time she was near her lord husband, Daemon was one of the very few people that (y/n) would throw herself in the fire, even though their love felt like the flames licked her back, that sweet pain of admiration and devotion that the poets would sing and the common folk would go mad.
“My dearest loves”
Daemon declared, that their daughter rose from her chair and ran to her father, she was always the one known to succumb to emotions and this time (y/n) could not scold her over it, Leora was her father's daughter, (y/n) might not have spoken over the matter only to allow the young girl the solidarity of her feelings, inside Leora was always waiting for her father to walk through this door.
“You look beautiful, a perfect gown for the queen”
“Father I-“
“Before I handed you over to Aegon I made you a promise, do you remember it?”
“I will do anything to see you happy”
“I will put myself through war if you tell me that this is what you want, all you have to do is say it”
Daemon was no fool, he was certain that the second that crown graced his daughter's head a war would nip their heels, Rhaenyra would not go down without a fight and that meant that Daemon would have to face her in battle, a battle he was willing to put for his lovely Leora.
“I want to be queen, I want Aegon to be our king”
“Very well, I wish you a fruitful reign, may the Gods smile down upon you”
‘May the Gods have mercy on us’ he thought, with a smile he brushed away those dark thoughts only to place a kiss on his daughter's forehead, a small part of him screamed that this was the right thing, his brother never thought he was good enough, now his brother was on the ground and his daughter was crowned queen and would carry on the legacy of the Targaryen name.
“Go on now, I want to have a word with your mother”
“I will be waiting for you”
Leora informed them before she gave them the privacy Daemon desired. (Y/n) stood as still as a statue, her heart pounding on her chest as her throat grew dry and scratchy, she was the master of composure up until now, faced with the only person who could make her waver.
“My beautiful, sweet lady wife, you spoke harshly last night”
“I spoke nothing but the truth”
She threw back in a cold tone. Daemon only smirked as he started to approach her, she did not dare to move, (y/n) was comforted by his light-hearted manner though there was an underlying mischief, Daemon was playing something, and (y/n) was left trying to catch up before it is too late.
Daemon stood before her, his arm finding her forearms and giving them a gentle squeeze, his eyes gazing back at hers with a glimmer that (y/n) had grown to yearn for, she despised the fact that she had to manipulate him like this, she was left with no other choice but to do this, a side of hers cursed the day Rhaenyras and Daemons fates met, this would have been so much easier had (y/n) been the only women Daemon loved.
“You are so bright, I am almost disappointed that you didn’t foresee this”
“The war?”
“No, me, you think I have not caught wind of all the scheming against Rhaenyra? The upbringing of my daughter to become the wife of my brother's firstborn son, putting our son on the sea the minute he was born to have better knowledge of anything driftmark related to gain the favor of your father, every step you so amazingly calculated with Alicent so you can get our family here”
“You have gone mad”
“I saw behind the facade and that makes you nervous, I was there with you every step of the way you mustn’t be frightened, I let you do all this for only one reason”
“Alright, let us entertain this absurd claim of yours, what is the reason?”
“Because I love you”
(Y/n) mouth slightly parted in shock, Daemon had professed his love for her on multiple occasions but the weight on this one was different, he had pulled what she thought was the perfect cover, leaving her bare in front of him, uncovering her thirst that she had kept away from everyone.
“I love you so much that I will let my daughter become the target on Rhaenyras mind, I will go against the woman that you think threatens your position in my heart, I will put myself in the sword before I let her even get one strand of your hair because you and our daughter want this”
“And you don’t? You always held a grudge over the fact that Viserys never declared you as his heir”
“My brother is dead now and because of you our child wishes to be a queen, I picked you as my second wife because I saw your strength, your determination, you need to come on top, that is the Targaryen fire through and through”
“You truly mean all this?”
“You are my lady wife, you gave me a home, now it is time to show the realm that we are the rightful heirs of the throne, together as one”
(Y/n) reached daemons lips for a passionate kiss, his hands slid down to her waist and pulled her as close as humanly possible, sharing this moment meant everything to (y/n), she had him devotedly by her side, he saw her true nature and walked straight into her fire, surrendering in her and even shielding her and her family.
“Let us find out daughter, I want us to be the ones to place the crown on her head”
“I wouldn’t dare let anyone else have that honor”
Requests are open!
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What is Broken I (Aemond Targaryen x Pregnant Wife!Reader)
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The war, the "Dance of the Dragons," as they have come to call it, is over. And yet, you are not celebrating. You have just learned that your husband, Prince Aemond, spent the last months of the war with another woman in his bed. Not only that, but his mistress is pregnant. Just like you...
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (third person, no use of Y/N), side Aemond Targaryen x Alys Rivers
Warnings: Angst, pregnancy and related symptoms, infidelity, some pushing and hitting
Author's Note: It's finally here! Sorry y'all, this month a) I found out my dog has terminal cancer, b) I got covid, and c) my laptop randomly went kaput in the middle of an episode of the West Wing. But it's finally here! As it says on the taglist, this will be a three-part series.
Taglist is done via reblogs
Series Masterlist
What is Broken
It was a lovely night in King’s Landing.
There was not a cloud to be seen for miles, and the stars were bright and twinkling. The waters of Blackwater Bay were calm and reflected the full moon as clearly as a freshly polished mirror. Even the wind seemed in a pleasant mood, carrying the sweet scent of spring on its back as it drifted lazily through the windows of the Red Keep.
Every bit of it grated on her heart like a whetstone across dull steel.
The worst night of one’s life should not be so lovely, she thought. It should be terrible. With storms and an angry sea, and perhaps even a raging fire somewhere in the distance.
If the night had been so, she would not have seen it when, only a few moments ago, a massive winged form landed in the fields just outside the city with a lowing wail, the last person she wanted to see strapped to its back. Thankfully, Aemond was far enough away that she could not make him out against the mass of his mount.
The people would cheer him in the streets as he rode toward the castle. The victorious Prince, returning after long months at war, having not only ended the war itself but avenged the deaths of his eldest sister, brother, and his little nieces and nephews.
Daemon Targaryen and his dragon had perished above the God’s Eye, the waters below boiling when their bodies fell into its depths.
With the Rogue Prince gone, the war was swiftly over. Rhaenyra was killed, her last remaining son taken as King Aegon’s ward, and the royal host returned to King’s Landing victorious. Even Cregan Stark had agreed to halt his advance South, redirecting to Harrenhal for peace talks.
Harrenhal. A cursed place, now to be the site of great diplomacy.
Even thinking about the horrible castle was enough to turn her stomach.
A letter detailing exactly what had occurred within those melted stone halls during the war, written by the late Prince Daemon himself, sat on her vanity. A final act of retribution against his soon-to-be killer.
She knew that her husband was only returning home because of the letter.
My dear Princess, Despite the conflict between our sides of the family, I have always thought you a rather sweet girl. Therefore, it is with the deepest regret that I must now shoulder the burden of informing you of your beloved husband’s improper conduct during this awful conflict…
A pang of nausea shot through her stomach as she remembered the words.
A mistress… some Strong bastard… called Alys, my spies tell me… every night, without fail… from the very first week… another bastard babe in the whore’s witchly womb…
There was a pounding from within her, soft thumps and kicks as the life inside her own womb became unsettled by its mother’s roiling emotions. She laid a hand over her belly, whispering soothing words she did not believe to try and calm it – and herself.
Once, she would never have believed Daemon’s stories. But then word came that, after the final battle, Aemond returned to Harrenhal for less than an hour before he again mounted Vhagar and flew for King’s Landing. It was not like Aemond to make such swift decisions. Nor did it strike her as the action of an innocent man.
When she called for Ser Willis Fell, her heart had been filled with hope that the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard would dispel her worries. That she had only allowed herself to consider the possibility of Aemond’s infidelity because her mind was addled by her delicate condition.
“My princess, I cannot, in good conscience, tell you a lie…”
She had screamed then. And cried. And possibly thrown things at the Kingsguard, but she couldn’t entirely remember.
All she could remember was how Aemond kissed her on the day he left for Harrenhal. Deeply and passionately. Until she could feel his love for her as clearly as her own heartbeat. Then he knelt before her and placed a single, tender kiss to her belly, to where they had only just learned that their babe grew.
Less than a moon’s turn later, he had taken another woman to his bed, and seeded her, too.
Now he was returning home – in haste.
He knew, then. That Daemon had let slip his secret. Perhaps it had even been the Rogue Prince’s last words. Spat in Aemond’s face in the seconds before his body tumbled into the lake below. Had she not been caught in the crossfire, she might have admired it for the masterful manipulation it was.
But in seeking to destroy Aemond, Daemon had destroyed her as well.
She was broken from her thoughts by the distant sound of people cheering. Aemond was making his way through the city more quickly than she thought. The streets weren’t as crowded as she hoped they would be this late at night.
It was late. Far later than she had become accustomed to. These days, she was often in bed and asleep not long after the sun had set, hoping that she would somehow find a full night’s sleep. Never to any avail.
For a moment, she thought of slipping beneath the blankets and pretending to be asleep so she would not have to speak to Aemond until the morning. But he would only crawl into bed with her, and then he would see when she inevitably woke…
That was not a conversation she wanted to have today. Really, there was no conversation she wanted to have with Aemond, only that which must be had.
She was resolved that Aemond would not find her weeping or stewing in heartbreak. No, she would not let him think he held such power over her, even if he did. He always had, even when they were young children.
So, she resumed her nightly routine as though nothing was wrong, as if she was entirely unaffected by his betrayal. Sitting at her vanity, she began to unbraid her hair. Her maids usually did it for her, but she had dismissed them the moment she read Daemon’s letter, not wanting to see their pitying faces for longer than she had to.
Since learning she was with child, everyone – including her maids – fussed over her constantly. It was not without reason, she knew. There was indeed very good reason why everyone was so concerned about her. But after six months, she was tired of it.
Just the simple act of taking her braids out and brushing through her loose hair by herself brought a welcome feeling of independence that she had not felt in some time. Perhaps ever.
That feeling slowly faded away as the cheering and celebration from the city came closer and closer, until she could hear gauntleted hands clapping in the castle courtyard below.
Aemond was here.
Her hand fell to cradle her stomach and was immediately met by three quick thumps against her palm. She knew the child did not understand what was happening and was only responding to the touch itself, much in the same way a cat arches its back when petted.
Still, it comforted her. It made her feel like she was not alone.
“Kirimvossi, rūhossas,” she whispered with a smile before resuming brushing her hair.
Her smile did not last.
Sooner than she had hoped, she heard the clanking of armor as the guards outside her door straightened, bowed, then retreated.
A shiver went through her, stealing the air from her chest while cold gathered in her heart and began sinking to her stomach. Dragging her brush through her hair suddenly took great effort, as did every breath.
Yet it was surprisingly easy to banish the tears forming in her eyes and school her face into tired neutrality. To glance only once at the figure now lingering in the doorway before turning away without acknowledging him.
She did not know if it was strength or cowardice.
He called her name, his voice rasping and low – desperate. “We must speak.”
She did not respond. She didn’t even look at him.
Aemond sighed, calling her name again. “Please, my love. Look at me.”
Still, she did not move.
“Ābrazȳrītsos,” he said, a hint of command slipping into his plea. Little wife.
He had always loved calling her little. According to their mother, the first thing Aemond did when he saw her as a babe was exclaim, “She’s so little!”
Ever since, he’d been calling her little.
First, she was simply hāedus. Little sister.
Whenever she tried to follow Aemond when he went somewhere she wasn’t allowed or did something she wasn’t allowed to do, he would gently scold her, “Haedus, you’re too little.” Inevitably, she would cry. About half the time, her crying was enough to sway him.
Then, she became zaldrīzītsos. Little dragon.
“You’re my zaldrīzītsos,” he would say when she hugged him tightly after Aegon or one of the Strong boys mocked him for not having a dragon. She didn’t have one either, but she never felt she needed one, for she had Aemond.
For a time, she was maegītsos. Little witch.
Aemond had dubbed her so when she came to visit him in the Maester’s tower while he recovered from the loss of his eye. The Maester would give her some “special leaves” so she could brew a “magic potion” to help Aemond get better. In truth, the potion was simply tea. But Aemond always pretended that the potion had indeed worked miracles, just to make her happy.
Once he was healed, she was again zaldrīzītsos.
Since he finally had a true dragon, she worried that he would not want her anymore. When she came to him in tears one day as he was leaving the Keep to see Vhagar, he hugged her tightly and told her, “You will always be my zaldrīzītsos.” Then he brought her with him to ride Vhagar. It was the best day of her life.
Or it was, until the day they were officially betrothed, and she became raqiarzītsos. Little darling.
It was what he would call her every morning when he greeted her with a chaste kiss on the cheek. How he would summon her to his side at court events. What he moaned when they kissed unchastely each evening before saying goodnight.  
She had been so excited when she became his ‘ābrazȳrītsos.’ The first time he had whispered it in her ear at the wedding feast, she’d blushed so brightly that their grandsire inquired about her health. The next time he said it, Aemond made sure they were alone.
Little sister. Little dragon. Little witch. Little darling. Little wife.
Always little.
Once, the names had made her heart flutter with delight. Now, they only prompted another wave of nausea.
Aemond was everything to her – he always had been. She thought he felt the same way, but it seemed she was wrong. To him, she was just “little.”
She flinched at the sound of his voice, of that word. How he spoke to her like she was some frightened animal poised to lash out.
Yet at the same time, her heart melted to hear the voice she loved so dearly after so long an absence. Merely the sight of him in the mirror sent a feeling of warmth and belonging flooding through her.
She hated him.
She loved him.
She was angrier at him than she had ever been in her life.
She wanted nothing more than to run into his arms.
She could do nothing but continue to brush her hair and stare into her reflection.
Aemond sighed, finally stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him. “You won’t even look at me, ābrazȳrītsos?”
She gave no answer.
He whispered her name again, “Abrazȳrītsos, please,” Aemond’s voice turned quiet as he reached her and set a hand on her shoulder as if to turn her around by force, but she wrenched herself out of his grip, staring down at the floor. Though she did not look at him, she could almost feel the misery on his face. “Please look at me.”
“If I look at you, I fear I will be sick,” she explained weakly. “I don’t want to harm the babe.”
His irritation began to surge, she knew it even without seeing him. His breathing quickened slightly, and she could hear the creaking of leather as he rolled his shoulders and balled his hands into fists – he had been so hurried he had not yet taken off his riding gloves.
“You are my wife,” he huffed. She could hear him attempt to contain the sharp edge of barely contained anger in his soft voice. At least he was considerate enough to hide it. “You are my sister – my blood. You love me as I love you, and you carry my child within you. Yet you cannot even look at me?”
Fury roared to life like a surging flame within her. How dare he be angry with her when he is the one who ruined everything?
“Why did you come back?” she spat back, quietly yet viciously.
His stare continued to weigh on her through the mirror. “I promised you the day I left that I would return to you when the war was done,” he said, half-smiling at the memory. “The war is over, so here I am.”
She shook her head. “The war is not over.”
“Of course, it is. Daemon and Rhaenyra are dead, and – ”
“The fighting is over,” she corrected. “But the war is not finished. Peace must still be brokered. As Prince Regent, that is your responsibility. Yet you are here rather than with the rest of the soldiers and politicians at Harrenhal. Why?”
She wanted him to be the one to say it.
Aemond sighed, raising a hand to touch her, then pulling away. “Is it so hard to believe that I missed you and simply couldn’t stand to stay away a moment longer?”
She was moving before she could process what she was doing, standing from the vanity and turning to face Aemond, her hand raised and ready to strike.
But he caught her arm by the wrist, stopping her moments before her palm could impact his cheek – his scarred cheek. His eye was wide, filled with sadness and shock in equal measure. He turned to look at her hand as if it was some kind of curiosity he had never seen before, like he couldn’t understand how it could ever be raised against him.
Tears were spilling down her cheeks when he turned back to her, and his expression gave over entirely to despair. Aemond opened his mouth, but words failed him.
He lowered her hand gently, bowing his head slightly to the right to give her an easier target.
It broke something within her.
She dove toward him, wrapping her arms around him as she cried into his chest, clinging to him as if he were her the only thing keeping her anchored to the ground.
But the moment Aemond moved to return the embrace, she shoved him away. It only moved him a step back, still within her reach. He did not move closer, and when she began to pound her fists furiously against his chest, he didn’t try to stop her.
“Why did you come back?” she demanded as she pushed him once more. “Why did you not just stay in Harrenhal with your whore and leave us alone?”
Aemond did not respond. His mouth hung open, but he said nothing. He could do nothing but stare at her, his eye flitting between her belly, where his child had grown –so much he could hardly believe it – in his absence, to her eyes.
Those eyes. A warm, rich brown that shone with gold in the firelight. It was Aemond’s favorite color. For whenever he saw it, in her eyes or their mother’s, he knew he was home.
But now those eyes he loved so dearly were filled with tears of his own making. He wanted nothing more than to see them dry and sparkling with love once more.
“Abrazȳrītsos, you must know I will always return to you,” he begged, stepping forward and cautiously placing a hand on her belly. Almost immediately, he felt a stirring within her, and a weak pushing against him.
His child.
Was it reaching for him, or pushing him away?
Before he could truly ponder either answer, his wife pulled away from him, her arms curling protectively around her abdomen.
He had to say something. Something to take her pain away, to make everything well again so he would have the chance to hold her and the babe. Even if it was a lie, he would say it if it made her forgive him.
“Raqiarzītsos,” he started, only for her to take another step away and scowl at him. He sighed as the realization of how deeply had hurt her truly sunk in. He softly called her name, “My love, it was one mistake. One moment of weakness, I swear –”
“Liar!” Her voice had grown rough with her fury, and Aemond flinched at the sound. He had never heard her shout like that, not even when she was a babe herself.
She saw his discomfort and reveled in it. Seeing him suffer a fraction of what she felt gave her a sinful spark of joy, one that she felt no need to beg forgiveness from the Seven for. She turned away from him and retrieved the letter from Daemon, panting as she looked over the words once more.
“A mistress now lies in your husband’s bed. She was a wetnurse at Harrenhal, some Strong bastard. She must be something truly special, for she is the only Strong – trueborn or bastard – to have survived Aemond’s rather thorough purging of the bloodline. I suppose it is now clear why. I have not been able to learn much about her. She is called Alys, my spies tell me.”
With smoldering eyes, she turned to Aemond and began to read aloud. “She reports to your husband’s chambers every night without fail, as she has done from the very first week he arrived at that cursed place. One of my spies even reported that he calls her to him after each battle or razing of some poor Riverlanders, as well as anytime he feels frustrated. It is no surprise, then, that there is another bastard babe in the whore’s witchly womb. Your brothers do have a fondness for seeding unsuitable women, don’t they?”
When she looked up from the letter, she found Aemond’s face set in anger, his fingers curled as though they were aching to grip his sword and run someone through. His eye flew from the letter to her face, the rage burning there only softening for a moment.
The left corner of Aemond’s mouth twitched upward involuntarily, and he jerked his head to the side to try and hide it. “You would believe Daemon’s word over mine, abrazȳrītsos? After all he has done?”
She let the letter drift back to the table. “If all I had was his word, I would not have believed it,” she explained. “But it is not only his word.”
Aemond exhaled slowly, looking away from her. Incensed as he was, he would not make her the target of his ire. Never her.  “Will you tell me who else?”
“No,” she answered, shaking her head slightly. There was a dark glint in his eye that promised violent retribution upon whoever she would name. No one deserved torture, or perhaps even death, for telling the truth.
With a nod, Aemond closed his eyes and bowed his head. He would not press her further, though she knew he would likely still try to find out who it was by other means. But in that moment, she could not bring herself to care.
She was so tired.
She had anticipated a long fight, and thought she was ready for it. In the hours she waited for Aemond’s return, she had carefully tended the spark of her anger so it would burn only when she commanded. But the moment she saw him, it escaped her grasp and became a wildfire in a dry grassland. It was fierce, quick, and lethal. In an instant, it had consumed every bit of her strength, leaving only the barest smoldering remains in its wake.
After a few more silent moments, Aemond again opened his eyes and looked down at his wife.
“I will not insult your intelligence by trying to deny it any further,” he said, clenching his fist to stop himself from reaching for her, “and I know there is nothing I can say to excuse what I have done. But my love, I truly am sorry. For what I did, and for the hurt I have caused you.”
She stared at him, trying to detect and hint of insincerity. She found none.
“I love you. I know I have given you ample reason to doubt that but…” he swallowed thickly. “I do love you, abrazȳrītsos. I always have and I always will. I know in my heart that the gods made us for each other. And if they had fated us to others, I swear I would have defied their will and ripped them from the heavens so that I could love you.”
He licked his lips and removed his gloves before offering her his shaking hand.
Perhaps it was the result of the weariness pervading her entire being. Perhaps it was the tug of an unborn babe reaching out, somehow knowing its father was near. Perhaps it was the sliver of her soul that had always belonged to Aemond beckoning her to rejoin him and become whole again.
Whatever the reason, despite the protestations of her aching heart and her rational mind, she put her hand in his.
It did not fit as well as it used to.
If Aemond noticed, he did not acknowledge it. He raised their joined hands to his lips to kiss before resuming his plea. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I will understand if you do not give it, but for the sake of my heart and the love we share, I must ask it. Abrazȳrītsos, can you ever forgive me?”
The world fell silent, and so did she.
If she focused, she could hear her heartbeat, along with two others, thumping out three different rhythms. It was discordant, yet somehow comforting. She listened to it for a moment, trying to hear a melody within it. But there was nothing.
She turned her attention to her hand in Aemond’s grasp. There was a welcome heat where his skin touched hers, but also a tingling numbness. A slight discomfort, akin to wearing new gloves before they had softened and molded to her hands.  
Then, she looked at Aemond. At the face that was more familiar to her than her own. It had changed in the last six months – more so than she would have expected. The color of his skin had deepened from so many days spent in the sun, and there were new blemishes that had not been there before. The shadows under his eyes, the roughness where it once was smooth, and the new smudge of a scar above the corner of his right brow.
All of it was strange. Known, yet unknown. Question, but no answer.
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
“What…” Aemond’s lip quirked again as he cupped her cheek with his free hand. “I don’t understand, what don’t you know, my love?”
She winced slightly at the foreign sensation of his hand against her skin. He had callouses now he didn’t have before. “I don’t know how to forgive you, or if I even want to. I just feel… tired.”
Aemond nodded, bowing his head once more to hide the disappointment he could not keep from his face, and looked at her belly. “Of course, you are tired,” he said, “I am sorry, I did not consider how late it was.”
She caught his eye flicking towards the bed – their bed, or at least, it used to be. A cold coil of panic began to wrap itself around her heart. He could not sleep here. He could not see…
“I would prefer if you slept elsewhere,” she said hastily before he could ask otherwise. “For tonight, I would like to be alone.”
Tears shone in Aemond’s eye for a moment, but he did not let them fall. He gave her a tight smile and again kissed her hand. “If that is what you wish, I will obey, but may I ask one thing?”
It would be foolish to say yes. Foolish to give him the opportunity to persuade her at all when she knew how easily he had always been able to sway her with his sweet words. Foolish to do anything but send him away immediately.
And yet…
“What would you ask?” she whispered, betrayed by the foolish little part of her heart and soul that was still and would always be his ‘hāedus.’
“I ask only for a few moments, and then I will leave, as you wish. But it has been half a year, abrazȳrītsos, since I have seen you, or heard your voice, or held you in my arms.” He squeezed her hand, drawing her attention to his face, open and earnest and pleading. “So for only a few moments, please, allow me to hold you again.”
His softly spoken words were like a siren’s song, and she began to feel faint as she struggled to resist falling under its spell. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, begging her mind to calm and think clearly.
“I promise, I will do nothing more than hold you,” he said, running his hand delicately over her cheek. “I just want to hold my wife.”
He did not deserve it, she knew. Nor did he deserve to be touching her as he did now, though she did not push him away. He did not even deserve her consideration of his request.
But it had been half a year for her, too.
Half a year with no one to kiss her good morning or good night. No one to carry her to bed when her legs and back ached. No one to hold her hair and whisper soothing words when she was sick.
She’d had her mother, her sister, and her maids. Even a Maester, at one very low point. But that was not the same. It was not the touch of a beloved husband.
Despite her anger, she was aching to be held by him.
“Just for a few moments,” she whispered through trembling lips. “Then you must leave.”
She did not have time to regret her decision before Aemond pulled her forward and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead as he thanked her. And before she could pull away, he was turning her slowly, so her back was pressed flush against his chest.
“It’s alright,” he assured her when she made a soft noise of confusion. “Trust me, abrazȳrītsos.”
His hands skated down her arms, his touch featherlight and yet searing. She gasped as he began to cradle her belly, her head lolling back into his shoulder. If given one more breath, she would have pushed him away, but then…
He laced his fingers together and took the weight of her belly into his own arms.
It was a rapturous feeling, to have the burden of it lifted from her and her eternally aching spine, even for a moment. She sighed in relief and leaned back further into her husband. Gratitude flooded through her, and her hands flew to rest over his.
“Oh, Aemond,” she breathed into his neck.
Gods, she had missed him so much. Everything would have been so much easier if he’d been here to hold her like this. He had always known been able to help her, she should have known that even with their first child, he would somehow know what to do…
Her eyes snapped open, and her blood ran cold.
This was their first child, but it was not Aemond’s only child.
He had another, far away, within a different mother. A mother whom he had been there for as she grew, Who, thanks to her role as a wetnurse, would be able to teach him exactly how to help.
“Did you hold Alys like this?”
Aemond stiffened behind her, and his grip tightened. “Abrazȳrītsos…”
“Don’t lie to me, Aemond. Not anymore.”
Silence, then…
“Yes, I did.”
She seized his hands and ripped them apart, tearing herself out of his grasp as quickly as she could, heedless of him reaching for her. Stumbling, she crossed the room before turning back to him, eyes blazing through new tears.
“Do not ever touch me like you touched her,” she spat. Her rage had reignited, the barren grassland now an endless field of flame.
Aemond’s mouth hung open as he looked to her in despair, his arms held helplessly in front of him. His voice broke as he said her name – a plea. “I just wanted to hold you. To help you.”
“And you did. For a few moments, just as you asked. Now leave, as you promised.”
He was looking at her like she was a wild beast, primed to lash out should he make one wrong move. But she didn’t mind, for that was exactly what she felt like. He had made her feel that way, and she hated him for it.
Aemond just stood there, and she could see his mind working desperately to figure out what to say to placate her. She would not give him the chance.
“Leave!” she screamed, her voice ripping its way out of her throat, burning as it went. She could not help but wonder if that was what dragons felt when they breathed fire.
Lowering his arms, Aemond nodded. “I will leave, abrazȳrītsos. Just as I promised. I am sorry.”
“I don’t care.” She meant it. His apology meant absolutely nothing to her raging, broken heart.
She watched him carefully as he turned and walked through the door, ready to rage at him again if she needed to. Perhaps she would actually breathe fire the next time.
Aemond did not try anything to soothe her or convince her to change her mind. The warrior prince knew when a battle was lost. But she knew he had not yet ceded the war.
That much was clear when he paused in the doorway, looking back at her in determination. “I love you, abrazȳrītsos, and nothing will ever change that.”
Then he closed the door, and was gone.
But she could not stop crying, for she knew he would return.
Worse, she knew that as angry as she was, she loved him, too. And nothing would ever change that, either.
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