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peachpitfics · 6 months ago

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Don't Blame Me

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Daphne Bridgerton is your closest childhood friend, her eldest brother, Anthony, is the love of your life. After avoiding each other for years, you both finally lose control.

Length: 3.2k

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Unprotected sex, sex in public, penetrative vaginal sex, orgasm, 'caught in the act' vibes, best friends brother.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

Like many other close family friends of the Bridgerton’s, their home was always a beacon of safety and comfort, especially for you. You were Daphne Bridgerton’s first friend, and you had remained close well into adulthood, she wrote to you still from her new life with the Duke. Unfortunately, Daphne would not be able to meet you in Mayfair this season, the Bridgerton’s playing host while your mother and father were out of the country. It was your third year out; you had a few hopeful matches in mind, not realizing how difficult the season might be with unobtainable love staring you in the face.

“We are so glad to have you this year, y/n. It has been so long since we have seen you around the Ton” Violet Bridgerton was as much your mother as your own.

“Father’s responsibilities have been consuming these past few years. Mother and I hardly made it to the season last year. I am glad to be here, spending some time in familiar places” You smiled, linking arms with her as she escorted you to the ballroom. Your parents had entrusted your match to you, however, had requested the viscountess to keep a watchful eye.

Waltzing into the drawing room, just like old times, Benedict and Colin, discarding their playing cards, exclaimed with joy, rushing to greet you as if a long-lost sibling had returned. There was nothing as lonely as being an only child, deep in the countryside. Eloise was fretting in the corner, fingers agitated, tapping the outside of a book. This was to be her coming out year.

Anthony entered from the far side door, his feet skidding to a halt at the sight of you.

“You arrived” Anthony said flatly, turning on the ball of his foot, and exiting as quickly as he had come in. Embarrassed, you frowned, smiling chastely praying no one would notice his strange behaviour. It had been a year since you had last seen each other.

“I apologise, he is so bizarre in the mornings lately” Violet squeezed your shoulders, leading you over to a table laden with treats. Sitting on the settee with Hyacinth and Eloise, eating small cakes and discussing the books being read amongst you were some of the precious things you missed about living in the city.

In an unsuspicious amount of time, you excused yourself from company to find the washroom. Anthony stood outside the drawing room, leaning against the wall, unblinking and mind drifting elsewhere. You ignored each other walking past, which felt a lot like tiny shards of glass embedding into your heart. Locking yourself in the washroom, trying desperately to keep tears at bay, you looked into the mirror and told yourself it did not matter. You were going to find love this year, somewhere else.

When you opened the door, Anthony had moved, he was nearly pressed against the door, waiting for you to come out. He stuffed himself into the washroom with you, closing the door as silently as he could.

“Why are you here?” He asked. He looked different from a year ago, he had changed quite a lot more than you were expecting. He had shortened his hair and filled out into his body. His hands looked the same, the same ring on that damned finger, flexing in distress and awkward guilt.

“It is the beginning of the social season. I am here to find a husband.” You stated plainly.

“A husband?” He scoffed, charming disdain painted across his face.

“Yes, it is what young ladies do in polite society. Was that unclear?” You asked. Your lack of facial expression and tone seemed to startle him, he had no idea what you were thinking.

“Why are you acting this way?” Anthony stuttered forward, getting uncomfortably close.

With the melancholic drop of your shoulders, and a heavy exhale, you pushed past Anthony and made your way back to the drawing room. It was so like him to put the narrative back on you. Anthony should have asked himself why he was acting this way – after all, it was he who decided not to court you. It was he who decided to kiss you beside the carriage that night. It was he who decided the two of you should not speak any longer. It was he who broke your heart.

The remainder of the evening was free of Anthony, filled with laughter at the dining room table over a delectable dinner. The Bridgerton’s sense of family was everything to you – even if Gregory and Hyacinth were bickering for most of the meal, it still felt as it was meant to. Violet showed you to the guest room, it had not changed much over the years, it smelled the very same.

“I am sorry Anthony could not join us for dinner” Violet’s voice echoed with somber searching. Perhaps she had heard the two of you in the washroom?

“Do not be,” You said quickly, “His time is his own, he does not owe me anything” Violet bowed her head, words fighting against her lips. She instead pursed them into a smile and closed the door behind her. Those shards of glass moved again, every second in this house, nausea held you hostage, terrified of running into him in the halls.

Daphne was the only other person alive who knew what had happened between Anthony and yourself. She had been disappointed in him, angry with the way he had handled everything. While she promised there would never be a change to your friendship, it had never really been the same. You tossed and turned far longer than normal; your mind flooded with images of the past. Thrusting yourself out of bed, it was clear you were not going to be sleeping tonight, you decided that a distraction may be best. In your nightgown, candle in hand, you remembered your way to the study.

The study was clear of any inhabitants, it was tidy, and the few cases of books loomed high over you, reaching the ceiling. Nothing in the Bridgerton house seemed to change, except Anthony, and it was perpetually for the worse in your opinion. You selected a book randomly from the nearest shelf and perched yourself on the seat closest to the window, looking out over the square. Lounging sleepily, you read in the low candlelight, only disturbed by the creaking of the door, an unexpected sound, making you jolt.

“I knew you’d be in here” Anthony said softly, entering the room with caution as your emotionless face watched him. “You were always in here when we were children. No one could ever find you” His smile was humorless.

“You did” You waited before responding, wondering why he was here, speaking with you, “Why are you here, right now, Anthony?” You demanded.

Anthony moved to the seat across from yours, sitting gingerly, holding eye contact in the hopes you would not tell him to leave. You allowed him to sit, his hands folded in front of him.

“I don’t know” Anthony rubbed desperately at his forehead, “I just got up, and felt myself pulled here, some unknown force, dragging me to you” Anthony admitted. You had always been attracted to each other, always gravitating towards one another.

“I did not choose to come here; my mother asked a favor of yours. I would never have chosen to be this close to you. You destroyed me, Anthony” Tears welled to your eyes, “We cannot be near each other – you made that it very clear, you took what you wanted of me, and cast me aside” Hands pressed down on your knees, you pushed off, making for the closest exit. Anthony dashed around in front of you, placing his body between you and the door for the second time today.

“Goodnight, Viscount Bridgerton” You curtsied formally, hoping the rules of social engagement were enough for this man to understand the dangerous position he was putting both of you in, yet again.

Anthony’s hand trembled, reaching out, taking yours into his. His fingers tangled between yours, his grip strengthening when he realized you were not pulling away. His thumb affectionately circling the skin on wrist, the sound of his swallowing resounding across the empty room, his anxious tongue flicking over his lips. If anything was clear, it was the internal battle that seemed to be always happening inside Anthony’s mind.

His touch, the supreme legacy of your existence. His unsteady breath, captivating your common sense. The thrilling space between you slowly closing, heads bobbing forward as if intoxicated and unable to control oneself, meeting together in the middle in an exhilarating kiss, just like you had remembered it.

His lips were shamelessly enthusiastic, as if made for this very purpose, just for you. His forceful hands weaved into your loose hair, pulling you deeper into every kiss. You were overcome, that old bold, need for him to find its way out of the labyrinth you had designed for it. Anthony’s fingers pressed to your hips, his teeth nipped eagerly at the skin on your neck, softs sighs of delight followed.

It was when his hand moved sensually to your breast that you broke free of the enchanting dance you had found yourself in so many times before with him. Your body did not reflect the same pleasures, you took his hands from your body and laid them at his sides, and stood tall and stepped back.

“I am here to secure a husband, for my future” Tears found their way back to you.

“Y/n…” Anthony shook his head, stepping forward, trying to hold onto you again.

“If you cannot give me what I seek, please, stop hunting me down. I want a life with you, Anthony. I will love you until my dying breath… But you, you will never grow up” You said finitely, again, pushing your way past him and fleeing back to your room.

Most of the next day was spent in tired indifference, you remained in your room, preparing for the first ball of the season. Tears had stained your pillow the remainder of the night, each knock at the door struck a chord of hope in your heart, wishing for Anthony.

Eloise and Violet helped you into your gown, the ladies’ maids fixing your hair and face. Violet ran a motherly thumb under your puffy eye, her compassionate heart shining through her eyes and tender smile. You gave a little nod, knowing there was never anything you could hide from her – she knew everyone in the Bridgerton house better than she let on.

The Viscounts escorted Eloise into Lady Danbury’s estate, greeting the Queen and Lady Danbury ahead of you. Violet linked arms with you in solidarity, following Anthonys actions and proceeding into the ball.

“Who will you be accepting dances from this evening?” The Viscountess asked quietly.

“I am not restricting myself to names, I will dance with any eligible man who asks” You answered politely.

Violet gave your forearm a squeeze, “That is very sensible” She nodded, releasing you, sending you off into the lion’s den. You met up with Eloise, taking a short turn about the room to appear social, greeting the other young ladies who you’d met years previous. There were several older men who seemed to take an interest in you as you moved about the room with your friend. No one really stood out to you, no true love at first sight, much to your dismay.

Retiring to the wall with a glass of lemonade in hand, you watched the gorgeous young women excited to dance with suitors and recalled how that was never an experience you had.

Soon enough, one of the suitors who had shown interest in a season previous approached, positioning himself next to you. Lord Harlan Grahame was intelligent, considerate, and not entirely horrible to look at.

“Lord Grahame” You curtsied, a familiar smile finding its way back onto your face.

“Miss y/n, I do hope your mother and father are quite well” He remarked, having known them for many years now, he had noticed their absence.

“They are in abroad, my father has business to conduct in Greece and my mother only saw fit to tend to him during this time” You explained, “I am being hosted by the Bridgerton family. How is your family?” You asked in politeness.

“Fantastic, Mother has moved herself to the country and hopes to get yet another dog soon” He laughed, clearly happy to be free of her in his home. Laughing along with him, you spied Anthony, discreetly looking on from across the ballroom. The conversation between yourself and Lord Grahame was easy and hardly uncomfortable. He was charismatic enough that you could see yourself becoming quite fond of each other in no time at all. He made small jokes at no one’s expense, he offered refreshments frequently and complimented you in kindness. You could see and accept a perfectly happy future with the Lord.

Across the ballroom, sheer asperity brewed live in Anthonys eyes for all to see. He was known to have a temper amongst society. With a final twitch of his left eye, Anthony’s feet picked up under him, carrying him in your direction. Violet watched on, fear and embarrassment ready and willing in her chest.

“I apologise” You mumbled preemptively to Lord Grahame as Anthony arrived to interrupt your conversation.

“Miss y/n, may I have this dance?” Anthonys eyes were terrifying, filled with rage and jealousy. You paused, contemplating antagonizing him, forcing his hand, backing him into a corner. But relinquished, excusing yourself from Lord Grahames company, taking Anthony’s hand as he swept you off to the dancefloor.

You did not meet his eye, your nails dug into the skin on his hand in resentment. You said nothing to each other for the first several minutes of the dance.

“You cannot marry him” Anthony muttered in quiet, helpless indignation.

Giving him a great look of disbelief, “Who are you to tell me who I can marry? I do not answer to you, Viscount” You growled into his ear as he pulled you in tighter.

Anthony finished the dance, bowing to you, holding onto one of your hands with unbelievable force. He walked swiftly from the dance floor, conspicuously pulling you along behind him, and into a room down the hall.

“You cannot blame me for acting this way!” He yelled, “If I have to see you speak to another man this season, if I have to witness another man watch as you walk by – You have driven me to the brink of insanity” He heaved, frantic energy filling his body.

“What would you have me do? Spend my life in loneliness, a Spinster? Would that be convenient to you, Anthony?” You parried.

His hands ran through his hair stressfully, at a loss for words, unable to express himself in the way he wanted. His intention had not been to yell when he sequestered you away to this side room.

“I was fine! You left Mayfair, and I was well. Now, here you are – and God help me, I am intoxicated every second we are in the same room. Your presence is the most decadent drug, forcibly hypnotizing me. I am powerless to you” Anthonys words were like honey, carried on the end of a bee sting.

“You made your choice!” You yelled back at him, hoping the music was loud enough outside.

“I was young, y/n! I made the wrong choice!” He retorted, his words shaking, and unfiltered for the first time in a long time.

There was a second of unblinking silence between you before magnetic energy pulled you into each other, deranged nipping at each other’s lips ensued. Hands grabbed and grasped at skin and hair, trying to force your beings into one person. There was a white-hot craze that seemed to come over the both of you, and you had felt it before, a few times.

Anthony sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, biting and kissing in a spontaneous fire.

“Someone will hear” You moaned into his ear, as his teeth moved their way down your neck. Anthony did not seem to care, his mouth on your chest, fondling and sucking on your breasts, still sitting pertly in your dress. He was simply uncontrollable, his behaviour now inherently superior compared to when he had been speaking.

Anthony maneuvered your body across the room, hands comfortably held in places of control, his left on your lower back, his right splayed across your throat like the prettiest necklace. You reached the door, his hands twisting your hips to face it. Your palms met the wood, bracing as Anthony bent you slightly, kicking your feet apart with his. Anthony hiked up your gown, undoing his pants in the same instant and buried himself inside of you.

You mouth gaped silently, aghast at the entire situation, but thanking God above for the opportunity.

“Oh my god,” Anthony gnarled into your ear from behind, “Just like I remember it” He moaned, sinking deeper and deeper it felt like. Every thrust led with intense and vicious primality, his hands wrapped around each of your upper arms, for leverage. He was right, it was just how you remembered – overwhelming, devastating, unforgettable. You had thought about your secret affair with Anthony every day since you had moved away. The pleasure Anthony elicited from you sent you into a familiar haze, deep and indefensible. Every movement, every sound from him made you feel greedy, always wanting just a little more.

The way he pounded into your smaller frame rattled the wooden door you were leaning on. “Anthony! They are going to hear!” You squealed in a whisper back to him.

“Let them” He panted, “If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I’m fucking my future wife” Anthony’s hand found its way into your hair, pulling your back sharply for a profound, wet kiss. Anthonys fingers sunk into the flesh of your hip, painfully pleasant as his nails clambered for an anchor. Your body arched back involuntarily, Anthony powering through fast, harsh thrusts as he found his inevitable end, placing sloppy kisses on your shoulder as he slowly finished moving inside of you.

You both leaned on the door in exhaustion, bodies heaving in unison. Anthony placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, stepping backwards and rebuttoning his breeches, fixing your dress behind you. You turned to face him slowly, knowing he could very well go back on every word he had said not moments before.

The softest smile enriched his face, his eyes lit in such a way that you had never seen them. His arm dashed out, pulling you into a grinning embrace, smooching dear kisses upon your lips.

“Loving you causes me delirium, y/n” He nipped at your nose, your foreheads planted together, eyes closed in tranquility.

As you stood, the doorknob gently turned and Violet Bridgerton slid her head through the gap, assumingly checking on the both of you; you had been in here for a little while longer than societally acceptable for two young single people.

Her hand flew over her heart, “Oh thank God!” She exclaimed, smiling ear to ear, a sense of pride glistened in her eyes.

“I cannot wait to write Daphne” The viscountess cheered quietly, finding it hard to contain her excitement. “I knew that you would find each other” She chuffed, slipping out, closing the door. Your foreheads knocked together again, never having a minutes peace in such a large family – you stood there a moment longer, relishing such a long awaited and monumental confession of your love.

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loveanddeepthroat · 1 month ago

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Unlucky Thirteen

Summary - Sylus liked the quiet girl with the poorly heart. She was the only kid in the laboratory who hadn’t come and gone before he could even remember what she looked like. When he doesn’t see her for a whole day, he knows that there’s only one place she could be—the Medical Bay. He’d been through it all before she’d even arrived at the lab over a year prior, and felt a duty to keep her company whilst her heart healed.

Word Count - 2.4k

Warnings - Child!Sylus and Child!MC as experimental lab rats. Mentions of child experimentation and non-consensual medical treatments. This theory of them being lab rats is not canon, so keep in mind that I have made this all up!

Sylus couldn’t find the girl with the poorly heart.

It was the third and final free hour of the day in the laboratory’s Playroom, and she was nowhere to be seen among the children.

Again.

The girl had been missing a few times before now—usually for further experimentation. But for all three of their free time breaks from observations and alterations meant only one thing.

She had to be in the Medical Bay.

He didn’t know much about the quiet girl, other than the fact that she had problems with her heart. There was always a big, white bandage over her chest that just peaked out over the neckline of her plain white gown, but he would never ask her questions about it. They only got to see each other during mealtime and free time, so discussing the things they were put through in between was something neither of them wanted to commit any time to. She didn’t want to talk about her heart as much as he didn’t want to talk about his eye.

In fact, they didn’t talk much at all. They just had a common denominator that seemed to draw them to each other.

Sylus had watched kids come and go from this place for a few years, hoping that one day it would be his turn to leave. That futile hope had been short lived, and it became clear that he wasn’t going anywhere when all the other kids around him dropped off like flies.

When she came in with a new group of kids around a year ago, he thought nothing of it. She was just a face he’d forget after she would undoubtedly be released. But as those weeks turned to months—the few children she had arrived with long gone—her face had remained a constant for Sylus.

He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that she’d finally been freed today. The people in the lab coats were far too interested in her as of late, and she was starting to look more withdrawn each time he saw her. Much like he had when he woke from an operation he didn’t know he was having.

The more he thought about her condition, the more he hoped that she was in the Medical Bay—rather than somewhere more sinister.

He’d grown a bit of an attachment to the girl. She was the only friendly face that hadn’t left him. Even in their lack of conversation, he enjoyed her company. Felt comforted by her. They often read in silence side by side, always in whichever back corner of the Playroom was free of other kids. The less significant test subjects always delved straight into the toys and games, but the two of them had no interest in joining in.

Sometimes, if the lab coats had prodded around in his eye too much, the girl would quietly read aloud to him. He liked it when she read to him. So much so that he sometimes played on his eye problems just to hear her read for an hour.

He was used to her being absent for one or two of the three free hours they get, but this was too much for him.

He had to get into the Medical Bay.

His head had purposely been rested against the electric heater beside the bookshelf for a few minutes as he made himself appear as clammy and feverish as possible. His cheeks burned as he pinched them repeatedly, and he put on his best nasally voice once he approached the Playroom supervisor with a little book tucked under his white t-shirt, rubbing his good eye for added effect.

“I feel sick,” he whined to the stone-faced woman in all-black clothing.

She barely threw down a glance at him, raising a lazy eyebrow. “You were fine during dinner.”

Damn.

Plan B came into quick effect. He rolled his eyes back a little, swaying where he stood. The hot skin of his forehead bumped against her hipbone as he stumbled forward dramatically, and she quickly bent down to his level, steadying him with her firm hands.

“Oh for goodness sake,” she mumbled, her frown deepening when she pressed the backs of her cold fingers against his head. She pulled out a little radio device that was tucked in the chest pocket of her shirt, speaking into it frankly with a push of its button. “Patient S013 is feeling unwell. Feverish. Permission to move from Room 11 to the Medical Bay?”

Sylus held his breath, willing whoever was on the other end of the radio call to grant the cold woman the permission he didn’t know she would need. He’d only ever been to the Medical Bay once before, and hadn’t ever wanted to return. Being examined and tested by strange scientists everyday was bad enough. He had no interest in spending time with the nurses who tended to him after his surprise surgery.

“Permission granted,” a male voice affirmed through the radio.

The stern lady grabbed suddenly at his shoulder, pushing him lightly out of the noisy room and down the silent halls. He liked when they were silent. He’d heard enough screams from children to haunt him for life.

The walk to the Medical Bay was short, and Sylus remembered to throw a few sniffles and pathetic coughs into the silent trek to keep up his charade. He must’ve still looked red faced and sickly, the nurse on duty handing him a gown to change into straight away upon his arrival.

He changed as quickly as he could behind a curtain that gave him only a sliver of privacy, tucking the book he’d smuggled from the Playroom into the inner fabric. The nurse checked his vital signs In the small triage room with nothing but a blank look on her face for comfort. Nobody around here tended to smile or show any true emotion towards the children.

It didn’t affect Sylus at all. He didn’t know any different. Didn’t remember a time when someone smiled at him. Or when he had smiled at someone else.

He wasn’t sure if he ever had.

The small, sterile Medical Bay was empty as he followed the nurse inside—save for the tuft of the girl's hair he could see peeking out above her blanket. He almost audibly sighed with relief to see her, but the fact that something was wrong enough for her to even be in the Medical Bay struck alarm bells in his head.

“Patient S113 isn’t feeling good, so try to be quiet,” the nurse told him. She pulled back the covers of the bed next to the girl, hurriedly ushering him to get in before giving him a syringe of medicine to take. “I’ll check on you in a few hours.”

He nodded, waiting for her to turn around before he took a look at the sickly girl a few feet away. The skin on her face was shiny and damp in the stark light of the strip lights above them. She didn’t look well at all, and had the thin, white blanket pulled right the way up to her chin.

The nurse administered a dose of something fluorescent yellow to her in another syringe, pressing her hand to the girl’s damp forehead with a tut. Sylus could’ve sworn that the nurse sighed a little in concern.

“That medicine should make you feel a bit better soon. Try to sleep,” she murmured to the girl quietly, moving the strands of hair that were stuck to her skin before leaving the room.

He didn’t know what to do once the nurse closed the door behind her. The quiet girl looked so…deathly. Her colouring was a good few shades lighter than it usually was, and there was a greyish tinge to it too. Whatever was going on with her, it didn’t look good.

“What happened?” he blurted quietly.

She slowly turned her head towards him, blinking a few times to focus her eyes. They widened a little when she realised it was him.

“Hi,” she whispered, her voice small and croaky.

The sound hurt something in Sylus’s chest. “What happened?” he repeated again, sitting up a little further in the bed to get a good look at her.

The girl lifted a shaky hand, pointing straight to where her heart was. “I think it’s broken,” she replied.

Sylus frowned a little. He didn’t know that hearts could break. Bones could break, he knew that much. He’d seen broken bones quite often in this place. Her heart wasn’t like most people’s—he knew that too.

But it couldn’t break. Right?

“Are they going to make it better?”

She blinked at him a few times, and he really studied her. This was the most they’d ever said to each other in conversation, but it didn’t feel strange or wrong like he thought it might. It felt natural. Almost like they were both still here in the wake of so many other young patients’ departures for a specific reason.

He found himself wanting to know more. He wanted to know everything about her heart—including how to fix it.

Her weary eyes glanced around the room for any listening ears, and she shifted the blanket down from her chin so she could see over it. She eventually whispered back to him, “I’m not sure that they’re even trying to fix it.” She took a shuddering breath in, wincing a little bit. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

That’s when he noticed it.

In the absence of the blanket, he saw the gnarly tail end of a stitched up incision where he would usually see a bit of the bandage she always donned on her chest. He may have been young, but he knew without having to ask what the lab coats had done to her. They’d done the same thing to him once before. Put him to sleep without warning to poke and prod into the innards of his most interesting body part—his right eye. He had no idea why they were so interested in it, or why they were equally as interested in her heart. But whatever the reason, it was mutually exclusive to the two of them.

“They’ve done that to me, too,” he reassured her quietly, trying to shift that anxious look from her tired face. She didn’t know what was going on, so he felt a duty to soothe any worries on her mind. “I woke up in here with a big bandage over my eye before you came to live here. Couldn’t see properly for a few weeks, but it got better. Like your heart will.”

The girl looked apprehensive, but seemed a little bit more settled to know that he’d been in the same situation previously. They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment before she spoke. “You’ve been here for a long time.”

It didn’t sound like a question, but he answered like it was. He didn’t want to stop talking with her, hoping it was bringing her some semblance of peace. “I have,” he confirmed with a nod. “Me and twelve other kids were the first here. That’s why I’m patient S013.”

“Thirteen is supposed to be an unlucky number,” she whispered.

Sylus cocked his head to the side, wondering if she was kidding. He’d never heard of that before, but if she was right, it would make perfect sense. Patients S013 and S113 being the two most focused on subjects in the lab coats’ top secret experiments did seem a bit too coincidental in his mind.

He sure did have a lot of time on his hands to think about things like that, too. She was the one hundredth kid after him to arrive, and ended up stuck here with him for the foreseeable. Maybe whichever newcomer unlucky enough to be patient S213 would end up in their same predicament.

“We’ll find our luck one day,” he finally responded, exuding all of his confidence into that one sentence. He was determined that he’d fight his way out of here one day, and that he’d be able to bring her with him. He wasn’t strong enough—not yet. But whatever they were doing to him here, he’d use it to his own advantage once he got a good understanding of it. “Maybe we’ll both get out of here, and we can see what the world is like.”

The girl smiled. Smiled at him, even in her state. It wouldn’t have been possible to not smile back, no matter how unnatural it felt for the corners of his lips to curl.

“Yeah,” she whispered. Her blinks were slowing down, and she looked sleepy. “That would be nice. I’d like to see the ocean one day, like I’ve read about in books.”

Sylus suddenly remembered the book he’d smuggled in, still resting coldly against his stomach beneath his gown. He quickly reached down into the neckline, grabbing it out and waving it up for her to see it.

“I could read to you, if you want? While you fall asleep.” He wasn’t sure if it would help her in any way, but the familiarity of a book seemed like the best form of comfort he could think of for her.

Her tired eyes lit up a little, and her smile widened. It struck something in Sylus’s heart, and for a moment, he wondered if he had a heart problem. He’d never felt such a feeling, but he liked it. It felt like a real feeling. Not just the horrible physical feelings of aches and pains.

It was a mental feeling. A caring feeling.

He settled himself back against the plump pillow behind him, opening up the book. It was a children’s fable that they’d read many times before, and the one book he enjoyed hearing her read. He checked on her once more, making sure she was still awake and eager to hear him read.

The idea of a book seemed to wake her up a bit from her fatigue, but even so, Sylus would read the book over and over until it lulled her into a peaceful sleep.

He quietly cleared his throat reading the title aloud the way she always does.

“The Kitten Who Met The Crow…”

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little story! I think the lab rats theory is so interesting and couldn’t resist this sweet little idea! I’ve been a bit slow on the content recently and I do apologise, but I’m in the midst of moving into a new apartment and the stress of that on top of the way my neurodivergent son is struggling to cope with it has turned my brain to mush. Things should settle soon and I’ll be back on the requests 🤍

#love and deepspace #sylus #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus love and deepspace #love and deepspace mc #child!reader #child!sylus #lab rats #love and deepspace fanfiction #sylus fanfiction #sylus fanfic #sylus fluff #love and deepspace fluff #lads mc #sylus l&ds #sylus lads #love and deepspace fic

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astonmartingf · 6 months ago

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WE COULD HAVE A GOOD TIME —

— you ended up on this random stranger's bed and suddenly the next thing you know you're moving in with him to raise a baby

P4 ★ PULLING UP ALL-NIGHTERS

amgf reader is still pregnant 😞 we're getting there so now have fluff, i wrote this immediately after chapter 3 but then got sidetracked with research, and studies n e ways!!! this chapter could've gone three different ways but you're stuck with this. i hope you enjoy reading like always 👍 THE TAGLIST IS CLOSED!!! please no more 😃✋

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[he's off to the crowd and i'm off to grading papers 🙄]

"The baby is keeping you awake?" You jolt at the short creak of the door hinge in front of you, from the other side of the door you see Jenson.

You place your phone beside you, keeping your excitement at bay hiding the fact of how much you truly missed him. A smile grows in your lips as Jenson enters his now shared home with you, luggage and handbags in tow.

"I thought there was still a race? Why are you here already?" You push your laptop and paperwork to the side, pulling out one of the chairs beside you, gesturing him to come near.

Jenson feigned disappointment, throwing his head back before settling beside you. "And here I thought you two missed me, nonetheless it wasn't like I could do more there when all my thoughts are here. So I flew back after crossing the chequered flag."

You ignore your heart skipping a beat at his statement, attempting to ignore the smile growing into your lips mirroring his. "Enough about me, what about you? It's already late and you're not yet in bed, I doubt you were waiting for me so what did our baby do this time?"

You hold your breath in close proximity to his— arm stretching to the corner of your chair, leaning forward to the bump in your belly. Jenson's head tilts to the side, pressing his ear in an effort to hear the baby from inside. "Are you giving mama a hard time huh? It's time to sleep you know. Why are you moving a lot there?"

It's crazy enough that you're pregnant and raising a baby with him, but it's even crazier how your emotions are barely holding it in.

"I was trying to sleep, but I wasn't sure if it was the baby or the lack of your presence—" you mumble under your breath before continuing, "so I'm just catching up on some of the papers. Have you eaten dinner? I can heat up the dishes I made earlier though, stay seated and I will—"

Before you can get up, Jenson pushes you from your shoulder, keeping you still in your seat. "Stay, I'll warm them myself and keep you company while you work on your papers."

Jenson moves your papers back in front of you with a small smile on his face not missing the small peck in your forehead, before trailing over to the open kitchen in front of where you're seated. "Do you want me to heat some for you?"

You shake your head, burying yourself back in your papers the only difference is now with Jenson present, you can't help but let your eyes linger towards him in the kitchen, taking peeks at his actions no matter how mundane his tasks are.

Soon you found yourself in the rhythm of glancing back and forth to the papers in front of you and to the laptop screen on your left. "I made you tea instead, it might help you sleep."

Taking a seat, Jenson places your mug littered with bunny drawings in front of you and settles with a bowl of your leftover dinner. Sitting in silence you bask in each other's presence, talking here and there about your day. Things were back to normal, just like how it's supposed to be.

★ WE COULD HAVE A GOOD TIME — @cosmoscoffeee @astral-cowboy @minkyungseokie @ximaginx @thearchieves @scuderiadevils @black-fireproofs @evie-119 @hannannannannannah @evesfile @vi0letblu3s @siannaplmn @myescapefromthislife @ivyvlair @persiar9 @asmoothoperator @vettelsbees @hc-dutch @tallrock35 @c-losur3 @mael1pastry @booksandflowrs @champomiel @jeffs77 @escapism-writer @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @whatislifebutlemons @snapeeballsack @casperlikej @woozarts @hellowgoodbye @lady-bennet @phantomxoxo @regalbanshee @dark-night-sky-99 @formulaal @kqliie @hrts4scarr @vicurious28 @viennakarma — TAGLIST CLOSED ★

#f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #f1 imagine #jenson button smau #jenson button fluff #jenson button x reader #jenson button imagine

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minaturefics · 4 months ago

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Head and Heart

Request: Could I request an Aragorn x Reader fic maybe where they have to separate during the trilogy, and when they’re reunited they both want to confess their feelings but they each think it’s unrequited?

A/N: It's here.... finally here.... I honestly don't think this is my best work, but I've gone over it so many times and I think it's time to just get it out here! I hope you enjoy it all the same, and thank you for your patience. I think I've lost my writing mojo - this might be the last fic in a long time (｡•́︿•̀｡)

Aragorn x Reader

Gender-neutral reader

Non-graphic mentions of wound treatment

6.6k words

---

There was an unsettling sillness to the forest. Darkness curled around the little campsite, only kept at bay by the small fire. There were no croaks or squeaks from the shrubs, no hoots or chirps in the trees. There was not even the slightest whisper of wind to rustle the leaves. Behind you, the company slept, breaths loud in the silence, while you kept watch. The fire had burned low, the warmth of the flames barely reaching your back, and you glanced behind, wondering if you should refuel it, but Aragorn was already kneeling by the smouldering flames, feeding it sticks and twigs.

It had been a tense couple of weeks with the long treks at night and the fitful sleeps in the day, the unyielding wind and the unforgiving landscape, the cool indifference between the emissaries of Gondor — you and Boromir — and Aragorn.

When you had first laid eyes on him at The Council, you had noted his handsomeness — his dark hair, his piercing eyes, his short beard flecked with grey — but then came the revelation of his lineage. So this was the king come to claim the throne of Gondor. This was the man you would have to swear fealty to and serve under. This was the man who would inherit the land and people that the stewards have long since cared for.

As though sensing your gaze, Aragorn looked up from the fire and met your eyes. He stood, eyes only flickering away for a moment to check on the others, and walked towards you slowly. You straightened, muscles tensing, and he brought his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Peace,” he whispered. “I have only come to smoke.”

He settled on the ground next to the boulder you were perched on. Strange, for the king to willingly choose the cold earth when there was more than enough space on the rocks nearby, to willingly choose to be lower than you were.

He brought out a pipe from his pocket, filled the bowl with leaves, and soon the air was filled with the sweet scent of pipeweed.

“Do you smoke?” he asked around the stem of his pipe.

You shook your head. “Though I am fond of the plant they once used to be. In Gondor, you can smell them in the wind in summer when the flowers bloom. The scent of them followed Boromir and me to the borders of Rohan when we journeyed to Rivendell.”

He hummed. “You and Boromir must be close. There are not many who would be trusted with such a task.”

“We have known each other for many years.” You shrugged. “My family has long been loyal to the stewards of Gondor.”

You glanced at Aragorn, wondering if he had picked up on your subtle dig. It was not the throne, or who might fill it, that you were loyal to. Aragorn may be the heir, but he was still a stranger. And only a fool would trust another so easily, especially when it came to the country’s land and its people.

You expected him to frown, to grow grim and silent perhaps, but instead a small smile pulled on his lips. “I do not think you care for crowns and titles.” He took a long draw from his pipe and blew it out in a steady stream. “Your heart is with the people and the land. I do not think there is anything you would not do for Gondor.”

Your stomach flipped. How had he read you so easily?

“Of course,” you said, irritation rising unbidden within you. “We have lived in the shadow of Mordor for many years. We have supported and defended the people. We have shed sweat and blood for them.”

“I understand,” he said, serious. “I am aware my presence is an uncomfortable one. But we are not enemies.”

“You do not understand. Gondor may be your birthright, Aragorn, but it is myhome.”

“And I swear to you, I will defend her.”

“You swear to me?” You scoffed. “As a king?”

“As a man.”

You met his eyes. The firelight flickered in them, but there was nothing fickle about his gaze. Something stirred in your heart, a softening, an awakening, and you nodded, short and sharp. “Alright.”

Aragorn watched you as you tried to cheer the hobbits after dinner. They were seated in a circle around you on the soft moss, between the great roots of the Lothlorien trees, listening to your stories. There was a fire in your eyes, a merriment, a wildness, and warmth in your voice.

“And then,” you said in a hushed whisper and the hobbits leaned in, “Faramir and I pushed him into the river! Oh, Boromir was furious. He crawled right out and dragged the both of us by our ankles and pulled us in with him.”

Pippin snickered and glanced at Boromir who was seated beneath another tree root.

“You should tell them about the time you got stuck in the bell tower!” Boromir called, grinning.

“The bell tower?” Pippin’s head whipped back and you let out a long groan.

Your eyes darted to Aragorn’s, lighting up in surprise, and you flashed him a smile before turning your attention back to the hobbits. His heart gave a little lurch and he grimaced. He did not have time for such things.

Ever since that evening, you were quicker to smile at him, more likely to walk beside him and talk. He had thought you beautiful before, stoic and stalwart, seated at The Council, but now, thawing, warming, it was like the first flowers of spring beginning to bloom. Beauty was one thing but spirit was another. And he could not help but admire yours. How you tried to encourage the hobbits through the snow on Caradhras, how you helped Gimli up from his knees in Balin’s tomb, how you stood, crying but defiant, after the Balrog took Gandalf.

He knew, just as well as any, that it must have been grim, gruelling work as a ranger in such times. Many of his men had grown serious and solemn over the years, and a part of him envied the Gondorian rangers for having your light when he had none.

He glanced down at the forgotten sword and whetstone in his hand. No, whatever fledgling feelings he might have for you had to be halted. He had just barely earned your esteem; it would be madness to think of earning your affection.

“That’s it,” you said, deflating a little, “I’m out of stories.”

Pippin and Merry gave disappointed groans, and Sam and Frodo flashed you grateful smiles. They went off towards their beds, fluffing the pillows and straightening the blankets, and fell into a quiet conversation among themselves. You stood up and wandered in Boromir's direction and he turned his attention back to his sword, running the whetstone along the edge with a satisfying shink.

He lost himself in the motion, driving away thoughts of Gandalf, thoughts of the ring, thoughts of you.

“Are you alright?” You asked and he blinked out of his meditative trance. Your eyes were soft and concerned.

He nodded. “I am just burdened by the future. I am anxious to carry on with our errand.”

“It has been a harrowing few weeks,” you said, coming to join him on the soft ground. “It would do us all some good to rest here under the protection of the elves.”

“We do not have time.”

“We have time for this,” you said firmly. And then more gently, “Aragorn, we have all suffered a great loss. You more than most. You knew Gandalf the longest among us, have you not?”

“I have,” he murmured, the corners of his eyes burning. He sniffed and swiped his tears away before they fell.

“Would it… would it ease your mind to speak of him?”

He was uncertain anything would ease the tightness in his chest and the hollowness in his stomach. Still, the words flowed from his lips, low and stilted.

“It was Gandalf who introduced me to pipeweed,” he said, memories of the mischievous wizard filling his mind. “Elrond was most displeased.”

You laughed, a hearty, sweet sound, and he let out a long sigh, muscles loosening.

“He showed me how to fill the bowl and tried to teach me how to blow smoke rings.”

“Can you?”

He smiled a little, remembering sitting next to Gandalf, practising. “Not quite. It is harder than you think.”

“Well, perhaps next time you could show me.”

He nodded absentmindedly and shifted, laying his sword and whetstone aside. His pipe, in his pocket, jabbed him in the thigh with the movement. It would be nice to take a moment, to have a smoke and relax, just like you said. “Or perhaps,” he said slowly, “I could show you now.”

You glanced around, eyeing the ethereal flets high in the trees. “Is that permitted here?”

He grinned. “I’m sure they will permit it. In the memory of Gandalf.”

He prepared the pipe and lit the leaves. The smoke filled his lungs, sweet and soothing, and he leaned back against the tree root. After a few long draws, he attempted the smoke rings. The first few were short lived, more like coughs of smoke rather than rings, and then one or two vaguely ‘O’ shaped.

“Gandalf would be disappointed,” he murmured with a chuckle.

“Have another go,” you said with a smile.

He inhaled, long and slow, the smouldering leaves glowing. He relaxed, Gandalf’s scolding instructions filling his mind, and exhaled. Two clouds, and then, to his amazement, a perfect smoke ring.

You grinned at him, eyes bright, and warmth spread through his stomach.

You tugged at the borrowed robes and wished you had some sort of mirror. They were soft and fine, the pale blue fabric iridescent in the starry elvish lanterns. It was gracious of the elves to extend the invitation of a formal dinner to the fellowship, but it seemed like everyone except Legolas and Aragorn felt a little ill at ease at the prospect of dining with the elves.

“Come on,” Boromir called, “we are waiting for you, my friend.”

You smoothed the fabric down and stepped out from behind the changing screen. The rest of the company were standing around, already changed, by the base of the steps. You walked towards them, forcing your eyes to stay trailed on Boromir instead of straying to Aragorn.

No, it did not matter what he thought of you. It did not matter at all.

The past couple of weeks in Lothlorien felt strangely like a dream, a world removed from everything else. Sheltered by the elves and swathed in trees, it seemed as though Aragorn could lay down his sword and rest. It had been odd, seeing him joke with the hobbits, egging their bickering on with his wry comments, or watching him laugh with Legolas while they spoke in Elvish.

Was this who Aragorn truly was? He had more than shown his valour and strength in the past few weeks, his firm words to Boromir on Caradhras in the presence of the ring, his unwavering patience and calm in Moria, but this…

Boromir clasped your shoulders and grinned. “You look amazing. These robes are more difficult to put on than our formal wear, but more comfortable I should think.”

You nodded, your eyes darting to Aragorn anyway. His eyes swept over you, expression barely changing as he inclined his head, and continued his conversation with Legolas. Disappointment pooled in your stomach as you followed the rest of them up the stairs towards the dining flet.

Disappointment? At what? There was nothing to be disappointed about. He was a companion, just another member of the fellowship. It would be a foolish notion to expect his regard of you to change simply because yours of him had.

And what was it that changed it? Some promise of caring for your homeland, some moments of laughter and levity, the shared grief of losing a companion? You shook your head. How could you let yourself be swayed by such things? He was still yet to prove himself a good king.

Dinner was an uneventful affair. The food was good and any dips in conversation were filled in by Legolas who told tales of Mirkwood to the elves. Eased by the wine and bolstered by the delicious meal, Pippin shyly asked if there was to be music and dancing, and the company was led to another flet with musicians.

The hobbits had paired up, and Legolas, cajoling, baiting, and challenging Gimli, managed to get the dwarf to at least attempt the steps. Boromir and you had stood off to the side, choosing to watch first, and Aragorn was speaking to Haldir. The flutes and the harps were clean and clear, but the hand drum beat more rapidly than you anticipated.

“It is like our waltzes back home,” Boromir said.

“But faster.” Your eyes darted between the pairs, trying to puzzle the steps. “And it is to the beat of four and not three.”

“It is not so different,” Aragorn said. “In practice.”

“You know how to dance?” You turned to him, astonished.

“Of course.” He broke into a smile. “I was raised in Rivendell.”

You blinked at him and looked away. How did you forget? It was so easy, looking at Aragorn, to see the wild, skilled Ranger and forget the noble circumstances of his birth. Yes, he was a king. The disappointment from before corroded through you. Yes, you must not forget that. No matter his trappings — a good man, a good ranger — Aragorn was a king.

And a good man did not necessarily mean a good king. And Gondor… Gondor would need a good king.

Boromir nudged you with his elbow. “You should dance, my friend. You were always better than Faramir and I. Valar knows I’ll trip over my feet with this new music.”

“It has been many seasons since I last danced.”

“It is easy,” Aragorn said, offering his hand to you.

For a moment you stared at his palm, the creases in them still smudged with errant dirt despite the comforts of Lothlorien. The hands of a man who knew strife, who knew work.

Before you knew what you were doing, you placed your hand in his and he walked you to the edge of the dance. He laid a hand on your waist, large and warm, and stepped closer to you. You could smell him, leather and soap and sweet pipeweed.

“Your other hand on my shoulder,” he murmured, breath rippling the errant strands of your hair.

He led you through the steps, his fingers flexing on your waist, his voice low and close. You stared at your feet, at his chest, at the trees beyond his shoulder. Your heart sped up and you willed your breaths to lengthen, hoping he could not sense the change in you.

“You are a good dancer. A quick learner,” he said.

You nodded, not trusting your words. Warmth radiated from him, and it seemed as though your hand seared with the heat of his skin. He was solid and steady, and so, so close.

The dance was blessedly short, and when the final chord rang out, you stepped back from him, bowed stiffly, and walked away.

Aragorn cradled your head, his hand growing wet with your blood, and stared down at your pained face. Your breathing was laboured and erratic. Had they come too late? He glanced up to see Gimli and Legolas bent over Boromir. A black arrow stuck out from his shoulder and he let out a weak groan. Slain orcs lay around the clearing, their crude weapons scattered on the ground, and the hobbits were nowhere to be seen.

He looked back down at you, willing you to open your eyes. He couldn’t help but sweep his thumb over your muddied cheek. “Please,” he whispered. “By the Valar, please.”

How was it that it was only a week or so ago that he held you in his arms, warm and close, cheeks flushed from the dance? He had kept that memory close in his mind, guiltily revisiting it in the quiet of the night, fingers twitching to reach out across the moss to touch you again. You had been strangely distant since that night. You were polite and friendly, but your glances had become fleeting and furtive and you hardly sought him out to talk in the evenings like you had done before.

Did you catch a glimpse of the affection in his eyes? Were you discomfited by it? Possibly. Why else would you withdraw from him? Perhaps you felt it would be too risky to reject him outright, given his position as the future king, and thought it would be best this way.

You groaned, brows furrowing, and mumbled something unintelligible. He whispered your name and to his relief, your eyes fluttered open. “Boromir,” you muttered. “The little ones…”

He looked up and saw Legolas and Gimli tending to Boromir, discussing how to remove the arrow. “He is alive. The hobbits have been taken by the orcs.”

“You need to save them.”

“I need to save you first.”

“There is no time… The Ring…”

“No. I will not leave you here.”

You muttered some garbled swear at him but did not protest when he began to inspect your wound. He parted your hair carefully, fingers combing through the matted strands. It was a fairly large wound, but not deep. At least, nothing that would be immediately fatal. It would have to be cleaned and bandaged properly to prevent infection. Legolas was already starting a fire and Gimli had gone off, presumably to camp to gather water and whatever spare cloths they could use as bandages.

It was an hour later when you and Boromir were finally fully awake. Your wounds were bandaged but the both of you were pale and weak.

“The little ones,” Boromir said. “You must go after them.”

Aragorn looked at you. Your eyes were glassy and glazed, the collar of your cloak still stained with blood. “We cannot leave you like this.”

“Cannot? Or will not?” you asked, lifting your eyes to meet his. Your gaze was strong and defiant despite the pain. “The hobbits need to be rescued. Boromir and I cannot go on in our condition. We may yet live as we are, but Merry and Pippin do not stand a chance if you do not go.”

He exhaled sharply and glanced away. You were right, of course. But how could he leave you like this? Weak and bleeding, at risk of attack, at risk of infection. What would a good ranger do? What would a good king do?

“We could split,” he suggested uneasily. “I could remain while Gimli and Legolas go ahead.”

But even as he said those words he knew it was not the best course of action. Gimli and Legolas, as skilled and strong as they were, would not be able to confront a pack of orcs by themselves. One glance at Legolas’ dubious expression confirmed his thoughts.

“We are not on death’s door yet,” Boromir said with a grim smile. “I doubt that the orcs will return to this place; they already have what they came for. We can rest here for a day or two, then make our way back to Minas Tirith.”

The both of you, alone and injured? There were so many things that could go awry and it would be at least a three or four day journey to the city, longer even, in the condition the both of you were in.

“You know Boromir is right,” you muttered, your gaze steely.

It was then that he felt the way he did the night he spoke to you by the fire. That in your eyes there was a right thing to say or do, and anything else would lower your esteem of him.

He nodded slowly. “But we will not leave you here among these corpses. Let us at least get you back to camp with a fire. It will not take us long.”

You shared a look with Boromir and agreed. Between the three of them, it was quick work to help you back to camp. He would see you again, he knew, he hoped, but even then, as he followed Legolas and Gimli away from the camp, he could not help but look over his shoulder for one last glimpse of you.

A cool wind blew through the window of your room at the Houses of Healing, carrying with it the sound of the army marching out to Osgiliath. You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, groaning and wincing, and slumped back against the headboard, craning your neck towards the window. If you could not see Faramir off on his deadly errand, then you would at least watch him from your room.

How had it come to this? Boromir, delirious and incapacitated with fever and infection. Faramir, sent off to Osgiliath, surely to die. And you, weak and helpless, unable to do anything but watch.

Faramir had said he was relieved that you were not coming with him, that if he and Boromir were to die, he could trust that you would ensure Minas Tirith would be well defended and cared for.

There was no comfort in that. There was no comfort in all of this.

Duty and honour and calling. What did anything matter if you were left alone in the world? Without Faramir, without Boromir, without…

Without Aragorn.

For a moment, you laid any sort of obligation to your station, to your city and country aside, and allowed yourself to indulge. When did he become someone so close to your heart? How?

It was all those moments of softness. Those rare moments where he was simply just a man, when he set down the mantle of ranger and king. Like when he smoked with Merry and Pippin, nestled between tree roots, discussing the characteristics of the various pipeweed strains. Or when he devoured one of Sam’s dinners of potatoes and wild mushrooms faster than anyone else, shrugging with amused resignation when everyone stared at him. Or when he sat up with you during your turn as the night watch, talking about his boyhood misadventures.

And that moment when he had danced with you, his strong arms around you, his grey eyes bright in sparkling lights of Lothlorien. He had smelled like soap and cedar, and you were close enough that you could smell the sweet wine on his breath when he spoke. There was something in his eyes you had not seen before. Tenderness? Affection?

You shook your head and laughed at yourself. Affection? There was little chance of that. You had challenged him that night by the fire, silently made him work for your respect and approval on the journey. It was necessary, perhaps, to prove to him that as a servant of Gondor you were not so easily swayed by someone who claimed to be king. But as a person, as yourself… There was no way that such behaviour would endear you to him.

He was friendly enough, yes, but he was friendly with everyone in the fellowship. That was all there was to it. Camaraderie and friendship. And it was not as though he had given any indication of… feeling more. And as king, he would have to select a suitable partner. In Rivendell, there were rumours of his long friendship with Elrond’s daughter. Yes… Someone like her would be suitable. And you…

You would stand by as always, the protector and servant of Gondor, and watch him be happy with another.

The bell tolled and you snapped out of your musings. The army was just leaving the gates of the city, their armour gleaming in the sun. You muttered a silent prayer for them, hoping that Faramir would return whole and safe.

Yes, whole and safe. That was all you would ask for Aragorn too. It did not matter if he did not return your feelings, all that mattered was that you would see him again, healthy and smiling.

The cragged stone walls of the narrow path began to look the same to Aragorn. The horses’ clops echoed off the high walls, and Legolas’ and Gimli’s muffled chatter strangely amplified. The air grew cooler and, somehow, more still as they continued forward. He glanced behind and Legolas gave him a short nod. They would be close to The Paths of The Dead soon.

Andruil bumped his calf with each step the horse took and he felt for the pommel with his fingers. For so many months he had tried to ignore the truth of his heritage. To the hobbits he was Strider, and to the rest of the company he was simply a ranger. But now… there was no hiding, no denying, what he was. Who he was.

Would the others treat him differently now? Would they see him as other, higher, than they were? The thought of Merry and Pippin, usually so affectionate and playful, growing distant and formal made his heart ache. Would Boromir retreat back into his position of Captain and Steward, rebuilding the walls that they so carefully took apart on their journey? And you…

He thought back to that night by the fire. He had not missed your subtle dig, your silent display of suspicion, and he had tried to reassure you, to show you that he was just the same as you and Boromir. And over the months it seemed that you had softened, sitting with him while he smoked, splitting your rations with him when he had offered some of his share to the hobbits, sharing amused looks with him when Gimli and Legolas were bickering about something inane.

You even let him dance with you.

In that moment, he felt that you finally saw him as he was. A man. Just a man. But then your eyes had shuttered and you walked away from him. He sighed. There was no hope for him now. With the sword returned to him and him on his way to invoke the debt as the heir to the throne. You would be lost to him, he knew, the moment he was crowned.

The city was in an uproar — singing, drinking, dancing — celebrating the destruction of the ring. It seemed that ever since Aragorn returned from the Fields of Cormallen, there were always people around him. You had recovered enough to return to your own rooms in the Steward’s House in the citadel, though Boromir and Faramir were still recovering in the Houses of Healing.

Aragorn had stopped by your rooms once, expressing relief and joy at your recovery, but had not come by since. So it had begun, then, the inevitable distancing that would happen. He had proven himself a worthy heir and king, marching with the Rohirrim, going to the Paths of the Dead, facing the Enemy at the Black Gate, just as you wished at the start of the journey. Gondor would be in good hands. But what of yourself and your heart? At the beginning, nothing mattered more than his suitability as king, but now…

You let out a frustrated huff and shook your head. Maybe a walk would clear such futile thoughts from your mind. Maybe you should go see Boromir, he always had a way of cheering you up. It was a short walk down to the Houses of Healing and you found Boromir sitting up in bed, reading through some documents.

“Ah, my friend,” he said with a smile, setting the parchment aside. “You have good timing. I am sick of these papers.”

You peered at them. “Trade agreements?”

He shrugged. “Faramir and I have decided that he will take the post of Steward, but he still values my input on such things.” He took you in, eyes searching your face. “You are upset about something.”

You opened your mouth to protest but deflated instead. You sank into the chair next to his bed. “I am vexed by something. That is all.”

He stared at you for a moment before the corner of his lips twitched upward. “Is it Aragorn?”

“Why would you ask such a thing?”

He chuckled. “We have been friends for many years now, and have been by each other’s side for months. Besides, I have had my suspicions for some weeks.”

You shifted in your seat. “What suspicions?”

“That perhaps your feelings towards him have changed. Softened. I have seen it with my own eyes. I knew for sure that night in Lothlorien.”

You stared at your hands and sighed. “Even if I admit to it, it matters little. He will not return my feelings, and even if he did, I am not a suitable match for him.”

Boromir threw his arms up. “I know you are stubborn but you are being deliberately obtuse and difficult now.”

You bristled and frowned at him. “Do not tease me, I am not in the mood.”

“First, your argument of unsuitability is nonsense — your family is well regarded in the city, and do not forget your own title as Captain. And second, is it so hard to believe that he might return your feelings?”

“I don’t see why he would,” you muttered petulantly.

He rubbed his forehead and let out a long breath. “I am not usually one to meddle in such… things, but a man can only take so much. You are not the only one who has come into my room, sulking and moody.” You blinked at him and he shook his head. “Aragorn is one to keep things close to his heart, yes, but even he cannot completely hide what is in his eyes.”

Your heart sped up a little. “What… what are you implying?”

“That there is reason to hope. And that maybe Aragron, like you, feels as though his feelings may be unrequited.” Your brows furrowed. “Ah, do not act confused — do you not remember how cold you were to him at the beginning? And how wary you were in the first weeks?”

“But I have been friendly since then.”

“Maybe so, but I would not fault him for being… careful. Some encouragement would not go astray.”

Encouragement? At the risk of looking like some fool? But Boromir was not one to make up stories, and his assessment of character and behaviour has not led him, or you, wrong so far. Perhaps you could… try. Try to show a little more interest, and see if Boromir was right.

Aragorn leaned back against the cool stone wall and took a long drag from his pipe. He had escaped to some high tower in the Citadel, yearning for the open, unbroken sky, and wishing for a moment of peace. The stars winked above him, shimmering just the same as they did in Rivendell, and a fragrant breeze blew from the plains below.

In a few days, everything would change.

He had accepted it the moment they entered the Paths of the Dead. His lineage, his duty. He had known since the beginning that he would eventually return to the throne but those decades in Rivendell, those years of roaming the wilds made it easy to forget. He let out a long stream of smoke, watching the pale white puffs evaporate into the night. He inhaled, relishing the sweet scent of the pipeweed, and on a whim, blew some smoke rings.

He smiled a little, remembering that night with you in Lothlorien. It seemed like a whole lifetime ago. His heart had wrenched in his chest when you had opened the door to your rooms, and you stood, haloed in warm light, safe and whole and real. It had been nearly too much to sit in your rooms, talking and smiling, with you so close. The gravity of the mission and the perpetual looming peril during the journey helped keep his feelings buried, but seeing you at home in your rooms stirred his imagination and images of you, of a future with you, plagued his mind for days.

He had tried to keep his distance, for his own sanity, but for the last week it seemed as though you were determined to seek him out. With the coronation coming up, it was inevitable that he would see more of you — you were assisting with some of the preparations — but you always lingered to talk when discussions were finished. You urged him to take breaks, suggesting he walk with you in the gardens or courtyards, and you even called on him one evening.

It was… confusing. Were you just being friendly? Or was there more to your actions? He knew he was not a man prone to delusion and it certainly seemed as though your feelings had changed. Warmed. But he wished to know for sure. Could he ask you? Would you be receptive to such a thing?

It felt as though he was running out of time. That his coronation would somehow alter things forever.

He took another drag of his pipe and closed his eyes. He had faced death at the Black Gate but did he have enough courage to face you? To bare his heart, to be open, for the chance that you might reciprocate?

Yes, he thought, or he would forever regret that he did not.

You rubbed the smooth fabric of the silks you were to wear for the coronation. It shone in the warm light of the candles and you stepped back to admire the handiwork of the seamstresses. Intricate embroidery decorated the hems of the sleeves and the collar, the design more ornate than anything you had worn before, and you traced it with your finger. It was beautiful, something more fit for royalty than one of the nobility, and you had protested, but Aragorn and Boromir insisted upon it.

You sighed and turned away, wandering towards the window. The city spread itself in front of you, the flickering torches on the parapets forming concentric circles leading down to the plains. Aragorn would take a partner eventually. Would they care for the city and Gondor? Would they appreciate her beauty and her people?

The city was flooded with visitors, the citadel more busy than before housing the dwarves and elves and other nobles. Lord Elrond’s daughter had come with him and your heart shattered at the sight of her. But to your surprise, Aragorn had made no overtures to her. They were friendly, yes, but the little you saw of them together, they seemed more like siblings than lovers. Was it possible that you were mistaken? Or perhaps the elves had a more modest way of displaying affection?

Boromir still continued to insist that Aragorn had feelings for you but the evidence of it felt weak. True, he had taken you up on all your offers for walks, and had talked long with you when you called on him that one evening, and once or twice you thought you had seen the tenderness in his eyes but you could never be sure. Maybe it was too little too late?

There was a knock on the door and you called out.

“It is me,” Aragorn said, his voice muffled through the thick wood of the door. “I know it is late but I wish to speak with you.”

You opened the door and let him in. His eyes flickered towards your clothes hanging on the wall before he focused on you. He was dressed in one of his more casual tunics, still not changed for the evening, and your eyes darted to the open V of his shirt collar. “I am surprised you have not turned down for the evening,” you said, glancing away and gesturing for him to sit by the fire.

“I could say the same for you.”

He joined you on the cushioned bench and stared at the fire. His face was impassive and his jaw was tense. What was so important that he had to see you on the night before his coronation? Were there any last minute changes to be made?

”Aragorn?” you whispered. “What is the matter?”

“I was thinking about our first few weeks together when we left Rivendell,” he murmured. “You were not very fond of me then.”

You nodded slowly, unsure where he was going with it.

“And as you said, Gondor is your home.”

Your stomach lurched. “Aragorn, surely you know I do not hold any reservations about you anymore. If I had caused offence then, I —”

He shook his head. “No, I understood then, and I understand now. But still, given the coronation tomorrow, I simply wanted to be sure.”

“Then let me be clear,” you said, a little exasperated. “My feelings about you as a king have changed.”

He nodded slowly and stared into the fire. It crackled and popped in the silence. You wanted to ask if he had more to say, but something stayed your tongue and you waited.

“And of me as a man?”

“As a man?” You met his gaze and your heart started to thump.

His eyes were unguarded and soft, the silver steel of his eyes warm and molten. His lips were parted gently, as though he was ready to say more, but was waiting for your reply. What could you say to him? Was he asking what you thought he was asking?

What could possibly convey the hidden depths of your affection?

You wanted to reach out, to place your hand on his cheek, but the space between the both of you felt like a chasm. Slowly, ready to snatch your hand back at any time, you moved it from your lap and offered it to him, palm up, on the bench. You avoided his gaze, scarcely daring to breathe.

He reached out, fingers curled and uncertain, and softly clasped your hand. His skin was rough and warm, familiar and foreign at the same time. You let out a ragged breath, sounding strangled. How was this possible? Was it even real?

“I was not certain,” you muttered. “But Boromir —”

“Boromir?” Aragorn chuckled and you looked up. He grinned and shook his head. “I did not take him as a meddler.”

“He simply… encouraged me to be open about my feelings.” Feelings. The reality of the situation dawned on you and a smile crept onto your face. “I cannot believe this.”

“I am in greater disbelief than you are. I was struck from the moment I saw you.”

“And I you.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe.”

“You are not the only one who knows how to conceal your feelings,” you said with a laugh, shifting closer towards him.

His other hand came to rest on your cheek. “There shall be none of that now. For too long have I been apart from you.”

He dipped his head and captured your lips. His lips were soft and tender. He kissed you slow and languid, savouring and tasting. He smelled of cedar and musk, and his breath held the lingering sweetness of pipeweed. You tried to pull back but he followed you, his lips seeking yours again. His kisses grew passionate, impatient, as though trying to make up for the time they did not have you.

He paused for a moment, breathless, and muttered, “Join me tomorrow, in front of everyone. Walk with me after I am crowned.”

“You would have me with you then?”

“I would have you with me always, meleth nîn.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Will you have me?”

“Yes. Anywhere, anytime, my love. Forever.”

#aragorn x you #aragorn x reader #aragorn x y/n #aragorn #lotr #lotr fanfic #lotr fanfiction

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ayellowdaylily · 3 months ago

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Commander's Needs [NSFW]

» pairing: canon!Hange x afab!Reader » summary: Delivering Levi's paperwork to a certain Commander turns into something you could only dream about. » word count: 3.4k » notes/warnings: smut... p in v, please read my Hange headcanon for this! lots of pet names (dear, darling, good girl, love), Hange has a cock and boobs *Vine boom*, major slow burn » a/n: I had sm fun writing this so I hope you guys enjoy it (first fic on Tumblr so pls be nice T-T) this is also half not edited bc it's 3 am... so uh don't mind it being practically all over the place » song recommendations: Intro: Singularity by BTS » Ao3 link Happy reading ദി(。•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

Only the sound of the crickets outside the window, as well as the quietness of the night, could be heard from Commander Hange Zoë’s office as they immersed themselves in some rather last-minute paperwork. The oil lamp’s flickering flame reflected off their glasses as they wrote, signed and stamped.

The soft silence was suddenly broken by the sound of knocks at the Commander’s door, drawing their attention away from the messy paperwork splattered across the desk, to the unexpected raps. It was rather late, why would anyone come knocking, Hange thought as they got up from the chair.

“(Y/N), what are you doing here at this hour?” Exclaimed the Commander as they opened the door to reveal the sudden visitor.

“Oh- so sorry for the late disturbance,” You said with a panicked tone as you glanced nervously at the papers in your hand, guiding them towards the Commander’s direction. “Captain Levi had instructed me to give these to you.”

As Hange sensed your tense posture, they swiftly grabbed the papers from your hands, examining them with an apparent curiosity about their contents.

“No need to worry! So Levi’s got you to do his dirty work this time?” Hange asked jokingly as they leaned against the door frame.

“I was just passing by, I’m guessing I was one of the few still awake at this time. I don’t mind tho.” You replied with a shrug of your shoulders.

Hange removed their weight from the doorframe as they returned to their desk “Now that you’re here, I might as well enjoy the company.” They pulled a chair and patted it. “Come, sit down.”

With hesitation, you slowly approached the seat and settled yourself beside Hange. The sound of a chair scraping at the floor broke the awkward silence as the Commander scooted themselves closer.

“So, besides being Levi’s mail person, what else do you do?”

You didn’t answer immediately as you gathered your thoughts, holding your tongue before answering.

“I volunteer in the medical bay quite often, if not I'm just your regular old scout.”

Hange took the time to examine you as you spoke, taking in every detail - from your hair to how the soft orange light cast by the oil lamp’s flame reflected in your eyes. You simply looked… captivating.

“A medic, huh?” Hange finally spoke once they acknowledged they had been silent for too long. “That means you know a thing or two about anatomy, right?”

“I do, I’ve seen and learned lots of things.” You responded quickly as the Commander’s question took you aback.

Hanges eyes surveyed your face, looking for any hint of hesitation, but it wasn’t intimidating, it was… more curious than anything. Moist began covering the palms of your hands as they took their time to answer once more. Quickly, you wiped them on your pants.

“Do you think you could take a look at my neck real quick?”

“Of course! What seems to be the problem Commander?”

Slowly, Hange’s blouse revealed their shoulders as well as the upper part of their chest while they undid the first few buttons. You felt a soft plush crawl at your cheeks at the sight of Hange’s exposed skin but as the Commander turned around, you observed a swollen part of their skin located on the upper back.

“This spot has been killing me. I don’t know what the hell happened but can you take a look?” Hange said with their back turned, awaiting your medical remarks.

“Well, I think you have a knot in your neck… I’d need to take a closer look to be sure.” You explained softly.

“Do what you must, doctor.” Hange joked.

You gave them a soft hum before reaching out. The contact between your cold hands and the warmth of their body sent jolts up your spine as you touched Hange’s skin, softly touching the tense muscle.

Hanges nerves followed the touch of your fingertips on their back, they leaned into your touch a little, their breath catching in their throat when you started touching them in a not-so-delicate way, contrasting your previous soft touch.

“Have you been stressed recently?”

“Yeah, I’ve been a lot more stressed than usual lately. It’s been a rough few months, with the new position.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it…” You said as you continued to examine their skin with your fingers. “You simply have a muscle knot, you could always let it go away on its own, or I could loosen it a bit to help. But for it to get better in general, you need good nutrition and rest.”

Hange listened intently as you explained, their mind fixated on the way your touch felt on their skin. They nodded in agreement as you suggested to help loosen it slightly, but hearing your last suggestion caused a small chuckle to escape their lips.

“Rest? That’s a good one, I don't think I’ve gotten a good night’s sleep in weeks. I don’t have time for-”

“Commander!” Gripping their shoulders, you turned Hange around to face you. “It’s important for you to get rest. As a matter of fact, as your acting doctor, I want you to go to bed now! The paperwork can wait.” You persisted.

Taken aback by your insistence, Hange simply stared into your eyes. They weren’t used to someone, especially a lower-ranked scout, telling them what to do. The corners of their lips quivered as they fought back the smile threatening to spread across their face.

“You think you can tell me what to do? I have lots of important work to get done tonight.” Hange said with a teasing tone as they folded their arms across their chest. You knew damn well you had absolutely no right to order the Commander around, but you were genuinely concerned for their health.

“Commander, please. It really is important to take care of yourself. No matter how much “important” work you may have.”

The only reaction Hange gave you was a soft chuckle at your persistence. They weren’t used to someone being so headstrong with them, but they secretly found themselves amused by your determination.

“Alright, alright. I’ll rest. I guess you only have my best interest in mind, right?” Hange responded as she shook her head in defeat.

“You bet, Commander!” You said with a bright smile plastered on your face that Hange couldn’t help but return. There was something about your presence that put them at ease, even though your determined attitude, they were enjoying this little back-and-forth banter.

“You’re feisty, you know that?” Hange exclaimed as they slipped their blouse back onto their shoulders, not bothering to rebutton the top buttons. “I like it”

A soft blush began covering your cheeks as you ignored their last comment.

“No time for joking around, you need a good night's rest for once.” You said demandingly as Hange held up their hands in surrender with a faint laugh.

“Yes I’m going, I’m going.” They said in a low voice, getting up from their chair with a groan.

“One more thing though…” Hange continued, stopping you in your walk towards the door.

“What is it, Commander?”

Hange remained silent before they stepped closer to you, observing you once more with a curious gaze.

“Is it a part of a doctor’s job to also ensure the patient they’re checking on… enjoys the experience?” Their voice dropped to a lower, more intense tone as they asked you. Their gaze fixed so intensely into you.

Your words came out with a stutter as Hange loomed over you, their imposing presence slightly intimidating you. “O-our patients' experience is the most important part of the job.”

The Commander smirked at your stammered response. They could tell they were making you seemingly nervous, but your reaction only fueled their enjoyment and encouraged them to push further.

“Is that so” Hange taunted under their breath as they closed the small gap between you two, their strides bringing them overwhelming close, forcing your body to make contact with their office door. They raised a hand and delicately caressed your cheek while slowly tracing the outline of your face tenderly, their touch sending pleasurable shocks through your body. Faced with the Commander's unexpected boldness, you only stood frozen in shock, unable to react any other way. A soft snicker escaped Hange’s lips as they watched your flustered face and nervous stature. With their soft fingertips still tracing your face, they pushed away a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

“You’re awfully red… aren’t you, my darling?” They murmured into your ear. Shivers were sent down your spine as their soft breath tickled your ear. The comforting warmth of Hange’s touch disappeared from your face, their hand slowly continuing its path along your body before it came to a stop at your waist, trapping it in an intimate embrace. To your surprise, your body reacted strangely to the Commander's intimate touch, the warmth of their hand against your skin sent sparks of anticipation down your spine, brewing a heat deep within you that you couldn't explain nor ignore. A smile slowly crept to Hange's lips as they felt your body tensing up to their tender touch. The Commander continued to revel in the effect they had on you, the hand resting at your waist travelled higher, their fingers dancing across your bare skin, tracing patterns that sent tremors of pleasure through your body. You couldn’t help but look down as your cheeks flushed in embarrassment and trepidation at their touch. The anticipation in you grew stronger and stronger.

“You’re terribly quiet, darling… speak up.” Their hot breath tingled against the crook of your neck as Hange whispered, the hand that was once simply resting by their side now forcing your chin upwards.

“Commander…” You muttered as their touch sent sparks of anticipation down to your core. Hange’s grin widened at the sound of your frailed whisper, fueling the desire boiling inside of them.

“Call me Hange, dear.” Their lips ghosted against the line of your jaw, drawing you closer. The soft, velvety touch of their lips sent subtle shivers of pleasure rippling down your body, the tender caress was an inevitable invitation to your anticipation.

“Coma- Hange” You whispered. With a hum of satisfaction escaping Hange’s throat, the sound of their name coming from your lips fueled their enjoyment.

“Ah, that's better. I like the way it sounds when you say it like that.” They continued to pepper your jaw with soft, tender kisses, their lingering breath hot and warm against your skin. Hange’s hand, which had journeyed to your stomach, slowly trailed downwards, the tips of their fingers tracing a torturous path along the hem of your pants, creating a delicious tension that left you yearning for more. Leaning even closer, now bodies fully pressed onto each other, Hange’s face left your jaw and brought their lips to your ear.

“You’re struggling to keep it together, aren’t you?”

The Commander couldn’t help but grin a little wider at the soft serenade of you moaning their name. It was such a sweet sound, yet it sent such terrible images through Hange’s mind. Pulling their head back slightly, just enough to view how much of a wreck they had created.

And there you were, Hange’s eyes darkened, taking in your flustered state. With a small smirk appearing on their lips, they permitted their hand to venture further down your body, delving under the waistband of your pants to trace the edge of your underwear teasingly. Such close contact near your core sent jolts of excitement through you. You felt yourself becoming wetter as Hange’s explorations became bolder. Your eyes were drawn to Hange’s lips as if magnetized, you felt the longing hunger grow inside you as you remained powerless. The Commander's gaze bore onto you more intently, noticing the way your body trembled as their hand discovered newer parts of your soft, lush skin. They couldn’t help but flicker their gaze down to your lips for a brief moment before returning to your eyes, boring the same eagerness as their own.

“Hange.. Please” You muttered quietly, you couldn’t wait any longer, the delirious tension had taken your mind by force.

“Please what, darling?”

“Touch me, please…”

It was as if a string had broken, releasing a rush of need inside of them.

Hange didn’t hesitate for a moment before allowing their hand to venture downwards towards your core, their fingertips finding your sensitive clit through the thin barrier of your underwear.

In response, you simply let out a soft moan of their name. Relieving, that’s how it felt. Darkness overtook your vision as you closed your eyes, letting the sensation of Hange’s fingertips caressing your sensitive core overtake you.

“Keep your eyes on me.” With a forceful hand, the Commander took your chin and tilted it upwards. You obeyed their command, letting your eyes bore into theirs, but, you needed more, you needed them.

“Good girl” They whispered, their voice soft and intimate as they leaned forward, gently resting their forehead on yours. The closeness intensified the moment, their words filling the air between you like a shared secret only for the two of you. Your core became needy. You couldn’t stop yourself from lifting one of your legs, wrapping it around the Commander’s hips, bringing them even closer than before.

“More… Please, more.” You muttered under your breath, begging Hange to feed your core’s hungriness. Oh, how your sweet begging and your desperate moans drove them wild; the Commander was more than happy to comply with your request. Their movement was painfully slow as they pushed the delicate fabric of your underwear to the side, finally letting their fingers come into contact with your bare skin. Hange teased you ever so slightly as they dragged their fingers down your slit, covering them in your slick.

And before you knew it, a finger entered your needy core.

“Is this what you wanted, my dear?” The Commander’s breath tickled your ear as they whispered, their finger thrusting into you. You could only gasp at the sensation, bringing your hands up from their idle position to venture into Hange’s messy hair, tugging and combing through it. It was Hange’s turn to let out a soft moan at the sensation, your touch sending sparks down their spine.

“The way you’re sucking me in, it’s driving me crazy.” They whispered, their voice raspy with desire. An empowering rush of confidence overtook you as you allowed your hand to trail down Hange’s body, slowly moving until coming to a halt at the bulge of their pants. The bold move sent a thrill through you, the touch of your hand against their evident arousal filled you with a sense of excitement. The Commander let out a gasp as they felt your hand press against their core, the unexpected feeling ignited a sudden wave of heat and desire that coursed through their body. The intimate touch sent a shockwave of sensations around their body, their body responding instinctively to your caress by leaning into your touch, they felt every ounce of restraint slipping away.

Hange moaned your name as their eyes darkened, not being able to hold back, they entrapped your lips into a searing, messy kiss while adding a digit inside of you. It was sloppy, yet you were trying to memorize the feeling of Hange’s lips on yours. The warmth of the hand that was once softly caressing the skin of your jaw now left it unattended, while suddenly entrapping both of your hands together. Without warning, the feeling of Hange’s fingers inside of you disappeared. You whined in protest.

“Shush darling, let’s get to the good part, shall we?”

The sound of your ruffling blouse could be heard as the Commander unbuttoned it impatiently, all while leaving scattered kisses across your neck. Finally free from the confinement, your arms wrapped around Hange’s neck as they ventured lower, continuing with lingering kisses down your body. Hange hummed ever so slightly into every kiss. With a swift move, they hoisted your legs onto their shoulders and brought you off the ground. Their hands under your thighs, they held you securely against them while guiding you towards the bed. Your back made contact with the plush blanket as Hange gently put you down, their lips trailing up to yours to meet in a tongued kiss. The Commander’s lips were now seared into your memory, their tongue dancing with yours. You let yourself sink into the mattress as Hange unbuttoned your pants, leaving your covered core in the air. You bucked your hips as they pushed their knee to your sensitive area, grinding yourself onto it to get the least bit of pleasure. Admiring the view, Hange swiftly undid the last buttons of their blouse before tossing it with the rest of the discarded clothes on the floor. The warmth of their hands returned to your body as they ever-so-slightly lifted your back off of the bed to unclasp your bra, revealing your breasts. Your hands covered your sensitive buds as the cold air hit them before being pried away.

“Don’t be shy, love, we’re already past the point of no return,” The Commander whispered greedily. Before you knew it, Hange’s mouth was latched onto one of your breasts, sucking and twisting your bud with their tongue as their hands worked around your panties, slipping them off of you while you were too exhilarated from the new sensation.

Your eyes trailed Hange’s now naked body when they finally removed their garments, revealing their pretty bust and their needy cock that leaked precum. Joining you on the bed, Hange gently lifted your leg, their lips began a soft trail of pecks up your body until you were face to face. Honey-brown eyes bore into yours, searching for hesitation.

“Are you sure, my love?”

“This isn’t very professional,” You said in a teasing tone before instantly regretting your choice of words.

“To hell with professionalism.” They muttered in a ragged voice before entering you without warning. Your pussy sucked in Hange’s cock as if it was built just for them. Soft moans of your name left their lips at the sensation. Each one of their thrust made their cock explore a new cove of your core, making your hips buck every time. Your hands cramped up as you gripped the sheets before you tangled them into Hange’s dishevelled hair. You hadn’t expected the Commander to fuck as if possessed, their thrusts were rough yet relieving to your neediness. Sweet nothings kept spewing out of their mouth as you moaned; you could barely hear yourself over the sound of your skin slapping.

“So good, so good,” Hange muttered frantically as they buried their face in the crook of your neck, the feeling of their breath tickling your skin added to the many sensations you were feeling. It was almost overwhelming. Hands now holding onto their back, you clung onto them, nails digging ever so slightly into their skin. The Commander's soft grunts kept resonating in your ears.

Your walls began clenching around Hange’s cock, your breath becoming more and more ragged. Each trust sent waves of pleasure through you, you couldn’t get enough.

“Fuck, I needed you so badly.” They mumbled as their elbows came to rest beside your head. “You look so pretty, getting fucked like this, my dear”

You let out a lewd moan as Hange’s thrusts became rougher, you could tell by how their cock quivered inside of you that they were close. With a limp move of the hand, the Commander brought your legs to their waist. You held them tight with your wrapped legs, letting their cock access you deeper. Each thrust, groan, and squeeze threatened to push you over the deep end. Hange overtook you, you let it happen.

“Inside me, please… Hange,” You said in multiple breaths as your walls began quivering around their member. They gasped loudly at the sensation while letting out a cuss.

Stumbling over your breaths, you became undone on the Commander’s cock. Legs quivering and nails digging into their skin, you moaned Hange’s name over and over again as they fucked you through your high before they plunged deep inside of you for their last thrust, filling you up with their cum.

Slowly, Hange slipped out of you, a gasp escaping your lips.

A smirk appeared as their eyes examined your now fucked-out body, as well as the soft white that escaped your hole, spilling onto the sheets. Hange was admiring their work of art.

With a lingering kiss on your temple, the Commander let their body fall beside you with a squeak of the bed. “Let’s get some sleep now, my dear,”

“You’re such an idiot,” You chuckled before snuggling into their arm tiredly.

#hange x reader #attack on titan #aot #smut #hange zoe #hange zoe x you #hange zoe smut #hange zoe x reader #hange x you #hange x y/n #hange aot

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drunk-person · 1 month ago

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The perfect storm (The Gossip) P.8

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x cousin!reader

Summary: One of the most talked about gossips among the lower class servants in Kings Landing is the fact (or not) that Aemond Targaryen got involved with his cousin Y/n Targaryen when they were both teenagers. Mainly due to the fact that at the age of 17 she was sent to Old Town overnight. Some employees claim that Aemond was caught between her legs. Some say that, like her father, she had had a horrible fight with her uncle and aunt and was sent away. And other than that none of this happened, she just became interested in the course offered at the Old Town conservatory. But now five years later, Y/n Targaryen is back, and rumors haunt those who favor them.

This chapter is a part of a main story The gossip, you can find the previous chapter, summary and general tags by accessing the link.

Summary of the chapter: Aemond and Y/n face things in their own ways, the long-awaited charity ball finally begins.

Warnings of the chapter: 18+, family fights, dysfunctional family, mentions of past abortion, coercion with money, no description for reader.

Word count: 12.300k

A/n: Birthday update 💕💕💕 (a few hours late, but okay) I hope you like the chapter, I imagined the entrance to the Targaryen ball like the red carpet at the Met Gala, the reporters take pictures for the magazines, but they can't enter! About the songs in the chapter... a little Torn by Hands like houses on the top and Dark Horse by Katy Perry on the bottom.

"Hey, Hey Kings Landing, Y/n Targaryan was photographed this afternoon leaving the apartment complex where her older cousins Aegon and Aemond are known to live, barefoot and in tears. What could be the reason for so many tears and such sadness? Some of our readers found it interesting to highlight our dear girl's deep tan. Where has she been? We know she hasn't been to Black Water Bay!"

❦❦❦

-Y/n… please… open the door. - Aemond begged, feeling his eyes burning as he leaned his forehead against the door, and making his own chest hurt even more he heard her muffled sobs through the thin wood.

-Go away! - She screamed once again. - Please don't hurt me anymore! - And after she screamed that with so much pain amid sobs that made Aemond's heart shatter, he walked towards the elevator with shaky steps, as if he were going to collapse on the floor at any moment.

Aemond got into the car barely feeling his own body, he didn't even remember the path he had taken to get there. The tingling sensation numbed him and when he slammed the door behind him and saw himself in the car mirror, he finally realized he was crying. And with that mess of emotions that he couldn't even manage, he just leaned his head over the steering wheel of the car, still holding the necklace between his fingers and stood there for a few moments trying to get his own breathing back to normal.

And finally starting the car, he returned to the company, which by that time was practically empty due to the time. He didn't even realize how much time had passed since he left there earlier, the afternoon seemed like a blur in his head and without even looking twice at the empty hall where the secretaries usually stayed during work hours he entered his own office, slamming the door behind him.

The air there seemed thin, and Aemond could barely breathe looking at the room. He didn't go back to the apartment because he didn't want to face the happy memories with Y/n that were now trapped there. But it was no use, since his office was infested with her, her laughter, her loving gaze, the soft words she spoke to him, the sweet sounds she made while he took her.

And without thinking, overcome by pain and fury, he threw the folder hard against the wall causing it to open on impact and the laptop to fly out along with the papers that were there. Aemond immediately caught his breath when he saw the colorful drawing of a butterfly flying across the floor along with sketches of clothes, dresses and some notes.

With his chest hurting even more, he bent down and picked up the papers from the floor, feeling his stomach churn when, among the notes and drawings for Y/n's plans, he found a pencil drawing of himself sitting at the table working with a look of concentration. The drawing was perfect in every detail, just like everything Y/n did, and further down the page was written in her delicate handwriting "My handsome businessman" with a heart next to it.

And before he could vomit the gastric juice that was the only thing he had in his stomach, Aemond turned his back and left the office once more, not knowing where to go. Finally, as if on automatic, he found himself in the parking lot of the apartment complex where he lived while trying to decide whether or not to go up there.

And when he finally did, he stopped in front of the apartment door while feeling his insides churn. He couldn't touch the doorknob and open the door, it was as if it would grow teeth and bite him at any moment. The idea of going in there and facing the memories of the last few days was almost suffocating, knowing that when he opened the door Y/n wouldn't jump towards him and kiss him passionately was too painful to bear and with that thought he turned and went towards the elevator once more.

❦❦❧

Aegon was sprawled on the couch wearing only his pajama pants. He had already put Jaehaerys to sleep, and Sunfyre was lying next to the little one on the bed. Suddenly the dog skidded across the floor of the apartment and started barking at the door and Aegon rolled his eyes already knowing who would be there, since Sunfyre always barked like crazy when Aemond arrived.

-What the fuck did you do Aemond? - Aegon asked as he opened the door while Sunfyre jumped with her front paws on Aemond sniffing and licking him. Aemond, who always rolled his eyes and told her to stop while patting her on the head, just stood there in the hallway with his eyes slightly lost, as if someone had ripped his soul from his body again.

-I didn't know where else to go. - He murmured, still looking lost and the older man made room for him to enter, pulling Sunfyre off his brother in an affectionate way while stroking the dog's soft fur.

-I saw the newspapers. - Aegon locked the door, observing Aemond walked slowly to the black leather sofa and sat up straight, staring into space.

-Considering what was in the headlines I'm happy she didn't kill you. - He tried to lighten the mood, but Aemond didn't even blink his eyes, continuing to look at nothing.

The eldest waited a few moments, but Aemond didn't open his mouth. He just sat there, motionless, stroking what Aegon finally realized was the sapphire necklace that Y/n always wore. Aegon couldn't help but make a barely contained grimace, if she had taken that thing off her neck it was because things had really gotten bad between them.

-We'd never fought like that before.- Aemond finally spoke, his eyes glazed over, staring into space, still holding the stone from the necklace tightly.

-Yes because you were seventeen. - Aegon rolled his eyes, pouring a drink while Sunfyre put her paws on the table and looked curiously, he then stroked her neck and walked back towards his younger brother, dodging some of Jaehaerys' toys that were thrown on the carpet. - Everything is beautiful when we are that age. - He rolled his eyes.

-She told me never to look for her again. - Aemond muttered, barely looking in Aegon's direction.

-What really happened? I couldn't even believe it when I saw that shit show in the newspaper. - Aegon rolled his eyes and took a light sip of his drink. - Are you fooling granpa and the Baratheons for more than a year and now this engagement?

-Mother and grandfather found out we were back together. - Aemond murmured. - They showed up at my office yesterday and wanted me to get engaged, I said no, but that I would go to the ball with Floris.

-And then 24 hours later he announced your engagement. - Aegon grimaced in disgust as he caressed Sunfyre's fur. - I'm not surprised, it's just like our grandfather to do something stupid like that.

-Did you try to explain it to Y/n?- He frowned.

-She didn't want to listen to me. I went after her to try to explain it, but this whole thing was already messing with her, the engagement announcement made her lose her mind. - Aemond looked at the floor as he spoke, squinting his eyes slightly as if he could see everything before him once again. - I tried to stay calm, I swear I tried, but when I realized it I had already yelled at her.

-I promised I would never yell at her like that… more than once. - His eyes were glazed, making Aegon remember 5 years ago when Y/n left. - If you saw the look on her face…

-She'll forgive you for this, she loves you. - The eldest shrugged his shoulders, looking at him.

-I said she was just like her father… - Aemond laughed without humor.

Aegon grimaced instantly when he heard that, he knew how it worked, Y/n would never admit any similarity to her father, and she hated when people compared her to him, but every now and then the similarities appeared, especially when she was angry.

Like the time they were kids and a girl in Helaena's class called the older girl a freak and Y/n hit her on the head with the blackboard eraser with all the strength she had. He shuddered as he remembered the slap in the head he got from his mother when he laughed at the whole situation.

-Look, she's mad at you now, for more than one reason, but when her anger passes, she'll agree to talk and everything will be fine.

-How will it be fine? - Aemond burst out, turning to his brother with his eyes burning with rage. -Tell me how? With our grandfather demanding something that I can't do for him? I don't want to get in the way of his business, but I don't know how I can keep doing this!

-The elections are coming and months ago the party made a proposal through our grandfather. - Aemond clenched his hands tightly as he spoke. - They want a younger face in the campaign and I would really have a chance of being elected.

-And where will this choice take you? Do you even really want that? Or does our grandfather want it? - Aegon rolled his eyes and looked at his brother very seriously. - You never wanted to get involved in politics, you always wanted to work at the company.

-What do you really want, Aemond? - The older man arched his eyebrow, looking at him seriously, but still relaxed.

-I want to keep my position at the company and I want to help our grandfather. - He hissed. - But I also want Y/n, I can't live without her!

-You know, I want a fucking cigarette right now. - Aegon threw his head back against the back of the sofa. - But Jae's doctor said that it's not good for him if I smoke, so I'm quitting smoking.

-The thing is, when you really love someone, you have to make sacrifices. - He looked at his brother very seriously as he shook the glass in his hand. - You always knew that there would come a time when you would have to face everything and everyone if you really wanted to be with her. Now that time has come, Aemond. Are you willing?

Aemond stared blankly through the wide window, staring at the sept of Baelor, lit up with hundreds of small artificial lights for some event taking place that night, and the oldest sighed, sinking a little on the sofa before starting to speak again.

-Look… you were still very young when all that pregnancy stuff happened to me and Lyan. - He stirred the drink in his glass slightly. - But our mother and grandfather tried to convince Lyan to have an abortion… with money, obviously. - He raised his eyes and looked at his younger brother. - But she said she would never have the courage to do it.

-So they tried to pay her to say she was lying and that the child wasn't mine.

-She refused? - Aemond raised his eyebrows in confusion since refusing money didn't seem like something Lyan would do.

-No. I refused. - Aegon smiled melancholy. - I said no one would take my son away from me and that I would be part of his life.

Aemond stared at the older man with slightly widened eyes, hearing him talk about this for the first time.

-Do you know what Mother said when I made that decision? That it had been the worst mistake of my life, and that I would regret it forever. - Aegon laughed, looking at the glass that was still half full. - And in the end, it was the best thing that happened to me, Jaehaerys was the best thing I ever did, the best choice I made, and I don't know where I would be without him.

-You need to stop obeying everything mom says. She loves us, but she's not right about everything, and she also doesn't know where our happiness lies. If I had listened to her years ago, I wouldn't be here now, I wouldn't have Jaehaerys. Sometimes we need to take risks and take the reins of our lives into our own hands, even if it hurts the person who usually holds them first.

Aegon's gaze was firm as he spoke, leaving Aemond slightly surprised by his brother.

-Well, what kind of parallel reality is this that we live in, where you're the one giving me advice on how not to ruin my own life? - Aemond laughed lightly, still with sad eyes as he looked at the older man.

-Come on, I have my moments. - Aegon laughed, curling his mouth and eyebrows, putting his feet on the coffee table and drinking the last sip of whiskey.

-And alcohol helps anyone to become a philosopher. - He shrugged his shoulders. - But if our mother asks, I'll say I told you to obey her. - He laughed, trying to lighten the heavy mood, and Aemond just rolled his eyes, leaning his head back on the back of the sofa.

-Daddy! - The scream in Jaehaerys's childish and frightened voice rang through the apartment. - There's a monster under the bed, pulling my little foot!

-Duty calls! - Aegon said, laughing, throwing himself against the back of the sofa before standing up and assuming a look of false seriousness.

-You'd better be gone by the time I get there, Mr. Monster, or you'll feel my fury! - He shouted threateningly, going up the stairs in an exaggeratedly noisy way towards Jaehaerys' room, being faithfully followed by Sunfyre, making Aemond smile slightly.

A few moments later, Aegon came down with Jae in his arms, gently stroking his back and heading towards the kitchen while Aemond watched them closely.

-That monster won't come back? - Jaehaerys asked with a very worried expression to his father, affectionately stroking Sunfyre's golden fur, who had his paws resting on the counter to reach him.

-Of course not! Didn't you see? - Aegon frowned very seriously. - Daddy finished him off! No more evil monsters pulling my baby's feet! - And after saying that, he kissed his son's feet, making the boy laugh and cringe at the tickling while Sunfyre barked and jumped happily around the two.

And even with a slight smile on his face watching his brother playing with his son, Aemond couldn't help but feel a pang in his heart when he remembered all the plans he had made with Y/n, and how all of that could be ruined forever.

❦❦❦

The day dawned and Y/n felt like a living dead, still wearing the same yellow dress from the day before, sitting on the bed, tightly hugging the duvet as she stared at the ceiling, feeling her face pull from the dried tears on her cheeks.

Until the firm knocks on the door made Y/n's heart skip a beat, quickly looking in the direction of the sound.

Aemond.

Still irritated, but relieved that he was back, Y/n threw the duvet aside and ran towards the door without even putting on her slippers, opening it forcefully in her anxiety.

-I told you not to come back… - The words died in Y/n's throat when she saw who was standing in the hallway. It wasn't Aemond, it was Daemon Targaryen, her father.

-Hi Y/n. - He looked her up and down with his serrated mouth and a very serious look on his face.

–Dad? - She spoke almost in a whisper, unable to believe that he was really there. - W-what are you doing here?

-I just came to see you. - He murmured, entering the room while Y/n closed the door, still little static.

-Why now? - She whispered with a shaky voice. - After years?

-I thought maybe you wanted to reconsider that conversation we had years ago. - Daemon just shrugged, looking around the room with a frown, while Y/n remained paralyzed, staring at the door. - Spend time with us in Pentos, meet your younger sisters…

-Why didn't you come get me when I really needed you? - She hissed, pressing her eyes tightly and feeling her stomach suddenly boil.

-I didn't have your guardianship to simply take you out of there whenever I wanted and you know that. - Daemond spoke with a calm voice, staring at her back.

-You didn't even try! - Y/n turned to her father, her eyes shining with a mixture of tears and fury. - You never cared. You never fought for me. You abandoned me like a mangy dog the first chance you got!

-You're my daughter and I care! - Daemond hissed, taking a step towards her while trying to remain calm. - And as much as I didn't want to leave you, we both know that at that time the best thing for you was not to be with me.

-Maybe the best thing for you now is not to be with him.

-No! - Y/n felt as if an invisible hand had squeezed her heart when she heard that assumption, immediately shaking her head.

-You've been here for less than a week, and news of your supposed involvement has already reached the Pentos gossip channels. - Daemond sighed. - Do you think this will end somewhere good? This engagement is just the beginning, Oto will do anything to free his grandson from any kind of scandal on the eve of the opening of the election period.

-This is all your fault! - Y/n hissed, staring at him and Daemon frowned at her in confusion.

-My fault? How is it my fault that that cunt treats that imbecile like a puppet?

-If you had been a minimally decent father, I would never have met Aemond in the first place! - She spoke in a low and fierce voice, almost biting her lips as she gestured towards her father.

-What else did you want from me? I was there for you until your mother died, and when she died, I took you away with me, until Viserys got involved in something that was none of his business. - Daemon growled, clenching his jaw and curling his lips in disgust, almost spitting the words in her direction.

-I wish you weren't my father! - Y/n shouted almost on tiptoe, as if that helped her voice stand out from her father's. - I wish I didn't have any connection with this stupid family!

-I just wanted my mom back. - Tears of anger and sadness ran down her already swollen face, as she screamed and gestured towards Daemon. - I wish she had never died because she was the only person who truly loved me in this world! Who never abandoned me willingly!

-Don't act like I never came back for you! - Daemon yelped, pushing the dressing table chair hard onto the floor. - As if I didn't give you the choice to leave with me when you had the chance, and you chose to stay for him and now you want to blame me for something that was no longer within my control! - He looked at her with wide eyes. - It was your choice! You chose wrong and that crazy bitch put you in that asylum that is Old Town!

-Don't talk about her that way! - Y/n hissed at the same time when she heard him refer to Alicent in such a low way.

Daemon turned towards the wall with his hands on his head and laughed in pure mockery.

-So you still defend that bitch?

-That bitch took care of me for all those years, while you went on with your life with your new perfect and happy family.- Y/n spat the words at him, her eyes burning with anger. - Nothing will ever change that.

-How nice of her to take care of my daughter after she and her husband stole her custody from me! - He walked around the room in long strides with a cynical smile on his face. - I should be very grateful to her.

-If my uncle asked for custody of Baela or Rhaena, would you hand them over? - Y/n asked in the firmest voice she could muster.

Daemon didn't answer. He just stood there, staring at her without making a sound.

-Would you give them up? - She shouted, taking a step towards him.

-Things are different now…

-That's what I thought. - She interrupted him with a wry laugh, throwing her head back. - Could you at least not pretend that all you felt was relief at getting rid of me and having nothing connecting you to my mother anymore?

-That's not true Y/n! - Her father lost his temper, slamming the table with a loud noise. - I hated that marriage with all my might, I couldn't stand being by your mother's side! But I always loved you!

-That's a lie! - Y/n shouted in fury, walking towards him with hard steps. - Everything in this family is a lie. Everything! Fake friends! Fake marriages! Fake happiness! Fake love! I just wish I didn't have to be part of all of this! I just wanted to be truly happy.

-If you really loved me, you would have fought for me. - She screamed in her father's face, pressing her nails firmly against her palms and closing her eyes. - You wouldn't have left me, you wouldn't have made me go through the greatest pain I've ever felt in my life!

-And what kind of pain would that be? - The oldest mocked, losing control over his own temper. - No longer being able to roll around in the sheets hiding with that cunt?

-Shut your mouth! - She screamed, her hands tangled in her own hair, almost jumping on her father. - Shut up! You know nothing about me! Not even about Aemond, much less what I had to go through!

-Get out of here! - Y/n screamed, opening the door with such force that the doorknob hit the wall hard, tearing off a small splinter. - That's what you do best! I don't need you or your fucking advice! You have two other daughters, take one of them and go play daddy present!

Y/n stared at him with eyes bloodshot with anger, feeling her body shake with fury as she held the door open. And taking a deep breath, Daemon walked towards the hallway.

-We can still fix all this, come to Pentos with us when we get back. Things will be different this time Y/n. - He sighed one last time and without giving a verbal answer Y/n slammed the door hard in his face, walking again towards the bed, still feeling the heat of tears on her cheeks

❦❦❦

Aemond could barely sleep throughout that night. He just stayed clear sitting on Aegon's couch, replaying everything that had happened as if it were a movie. Each time he wished he could take back what he said, but never could he.

And still driven by sadness and fury, he took the car keys and left the apartment without even telling his older brother. Speeding through the streets of Kings Landing with only one destination in mind.

-Mr. Targaryen, you can't just come in like that. - Oto's secretary screeched, looking slightly wide-eyed at Aemond, who just ignored her, muttering a dirty word as he threw open the door to Oto's office.

-How can you do that? - Aemond hissed, slamming the door behind him and striding toward his grandfather's desk. - How can you announce this lie without my consent?

-It was the wisest decision. - Oto gave little or no importance to his grandson's anger, continuing to write something down in a notebook, barely looking him in the eye when speaking.

-It wasn't your decision to make! - Aemond's eyes shone with barely contained fury as his hands trembled close to his body, being pressed so tightly that his nails left half-moon marks on his palms. -You had no right!

-You're still young, Aemond. - The eldest finally put down the fountain pen and looked at his grandson. - When we are young, we often don't know how to steer the boat of our own lives, we don't know how to make the right decisions! And we often get lost.

-We need someone older and wiser to guide us through the stormy ocean that is high-class life. Someone to make the difficult decisions for us. - He rested his hands on the tabletop with a very firm voice. - I made this decision for you, because I will not allow you to throw everything we worked for in the trash for something as insignificant as a foolish and childish love.

-What I feel for her is not a foolish and childish love! - Aemond hissed, also resting his hands on the table and staring at his grandfather, his eyes shining with barely contained anger. - I will deny all of this today!

-If you do that, Alicent will die of shame, Aemond. - Oto spoke firmly, staring at him. - Your mother spent hours on the phone apologizing to Floris for her behavior. To make her be reasonable and stay by your side through all of this.

-What do you want? Shame your mother? Humiliate Floris Baratheon by leaving her like that?

-I didn't ask for any of this! - His hands shook as his teeth pressed together so tightly that they grinded. - It's not my fault, it's yours!

-What did she say to you yesterday? - The eldest faced Aemond firmly, crossing his hands with his arms on the table. - She probably asked you to throw everything away and just crawl around her… the typical egocentrism inherited from her father.

-Y/n is not like her father! - Aemond shouted muffledly, clenching his hands on the table and squinting his eyes tightly. - You don't know her and I won't allow you to talk about her like that!

-I'll go to this ball with Floris, because she doesn't deserve to be involved in all of this! - He hissed in an angry voice. - But after that I'll give it a week and I'll announce that we've rushed into the engagement.

-A week is too little! - Oto shot him a glare. - Do you think waiting just for that will solve anything?

-And what do you plan to do about the rest afterwards? Go out with your cousin and tell everyone that you're involved? - The oldest laughed ironically.

-To ruin your career in business and mine in politics? - Oto stood up on the table, furious, glaring at him. - I forbid you to do that! Do you hear me, Aemond?

-That's your life! - He hissed in a hateful voice. - Learn to deal with it! - As Oto spoke, Aemond had the impression that his grandfather grew in size, making him feel like a 10-year-old boy again. - You were born into this family and you have to act according to what your position demands.

-If I lose her because of you… - He murmured, his gaze lost and full of pain. - I will never forgive you, grandfather.

And without listening to anything else that Oto could say, Aemond turned his back and left the older man's office. The urge to go to Y/n again haunted his thoughts like an insistent ghost, but fear made him restrain himself and return once more to Aegon's apartment.

-You know, it would have been good to let me know that you were leaving early today after all that talk yesterday. - The eldest rolled his eyes and sighed, throwing himself into an armchair with Sunfyre close behind him as soon as Aemond walked through the door.

-I didn't know if you had gone after her again, gone to talk to the septon or thrown yourself off the top of a hill.

-Neither of the three. - Aemond muttered without paying attention to Aegon's provocation and also without saying where he went. - But I need a favor.

-As long as it requires minimal effort, doesn't compromise my physical integrity and doesn't make me late to pick up Jae-Jae from school… - He shrugged, raising his eyebrows and curling his mouth downward.

-I need you to go to my apartment and feed my cat. - Aemond sighed, still unwilling to enter the apartment.

-Cat? - Aegon looked at him confused while Sunfyre tilted her head to the side. - Since when do you have a cat?

-Sunday. - He murmured melancholically, looking at the floor.

❦❦❦

The rest of Y/n's day was nothing but pain. She could barely bear to look at her phone for fear of seeing some news report talking about Floris and Aemond's engagement, but she kept it close to her anyway, waiting for him to call. Until she realized that Aemond didn't even have the number for that cell phone and couldn't call even if he wanted to.

Some time passed and the bedroom phone rang. Y/n almost fell out of bed to answer it, and when she did, her voice was anxious and breathless, her face filled with hope. But all that went away as soon as a female voice apologized for the inconvenience and asked if she would confirm her presence at the family's charity ball that would take place on Friday night.

-No. - She sighed against the phone with her eyes saddened again as she slid the phone back into its cradle.

Everything passed in a strange blur and dark memories of hateful days came to her mind without asking for permission. Night fell and she didn't even notice the darkness that swallowed the city with the curtains so tightly closed as they were. And when she fell asleep, she was still wearing the same yellow dress, tightly clinging to the hotel duvet while tears still ran down her face.

The next morning Y/n was still in the fog of sleep, tormented by dreams that seemed more like nightmares. She woke up with a start when she heard someone knocking on the bedroom door. And holding her breath as she felt her heart skip a beat, she ran to the door.

Being invaded by disappointment as soon as she opened it, when she came across a smiling red-haired girl carrying a cart with a carefully arranged breakfast.

-Thank you, but I didn't ask for this.

-They said in the kitchen to bring the coffee to your room, madam. - The girl looked down and stopped smiling. - I'm just following orders, if you want I can take it back.

-All good. - Y/n forced a smile at the girl. - Don't worry, you can leave it here.

The redhead entered the room with the cart and widened her eyes slightly when she saw how messy the adjacent room was.

-If madam wants, I can ask someone to come and clean up the hall so you can be more comfortable. - She offered, her eyes still a little shocked, and Y/n, who was distracted looking at the newspaper on the cart, didn't even hear the question to which she nodded positively.

-Have a good day, madam. - The girl bowed her head in respect and left the room, leaving her alone, and Y/n didn't even answer, still staring at the headline on the front page of the newspaper.

The engagement of the decade? How the marriage between Targaryen and Baratheon can help in the merger of two of the largest companies in the country.

And right below a black and white photo of Aemond and Floris at what looked like a party.

She didn't touch the food. She just went back to bed and curled up once more, hugging her body tightly as if that could prevent the almost physical pain she felt.

Hours passed and Y/n was still lying in bed clutching the pillow when she heard the door opening and at the same moment she raised her eyebrows and getting up. Her curiosity passed almost instantly when she heard two female voices and realized that it was just the maids cleaning the room adjacent to the room.

With a sigh, Y/n just lay down again, hugging the pillow even tighter, feeling tears in her eyes once again, and seriously thinking about calling Aemond to apologize and beg him to come back. Until the whispers of the chambermaids reached her ears.

-I heard that the dress Floris Baratheon is going to wear is so bright that it would blind the sun if the ball were held during the day. - Y/n heard one of the maids whispering to another as they cleaned the room and her stomach twisted.

-About the damn dress? - The other whispered back. - I heard that the diamond in the ring Aemond Targaryen gave her is so big that they sold a branch of the company in the south to be able to pay for it!

-If that's true, then he must really be in love with her.

Y/n's blood boiled in her veins upon hearing those words, she didn't even hear the rest of the conversation between the two women, feeling as if her heart were beating in her ears and raising her furious eyes from the ground for the first time in the day.

If Aemond thought he could show off with that bitch like she was a trophy and not suffer the consequences he was sorely mistaken. She wouldn't let that happen. She would go to the annual charity ball and give him a taste of what she was feeling.

Still heartbroken, Y/n got up from the bed, wiping her tears hard, she needed a new dress that was good enough… good enough to outshine not just one, but all the stars in the sky. As soon as the door closed and the maids left the room, she reached for her cell phone and dialed a number that she was very familiar with from calling so many times to make requests.

As the phone rang, she opened the curtains of the beautiful window with a panoramic view of Black Water Bay, feeling her eyes burn with fury and the golden sunset sun that was beginning to fall over the city.

-Olena, my dear, how are you? - She smiled forcefully into the phone, using the friendliest voice she could muster with so much anger and sadness in her own heart. - I need a dress for tomorrow night!

❦❦❦

Friday morning flooded Aegon's apartment, illuminating every corner and crevice, except for the large living room, which had its curtains firmly closed since Aemond had sat on the couch two days ago and remained there without moving for practically anything. Just staring at the table, the wall or the ceiling as if they could give him answers and solutions.

When Aegon went downstairs to prepare Jaehaerys's breakfast he sighed and threw his head back at the sight of his brother still looking the same as the night before.

-Okay, that's enough! - He croaked, jumping off the last step and heading towards Aemond. - Look, you've been wearing the same suit for like three days. - Aegon grimaced, wrinkling his nose.

-And that's none of your business. - Aemond muttered without even looking at his brother, making him snort in anger.

-Listen, you didn't eat, you barely slept, and I don't even know if I saw you drinking water. - The oldest enumerated on his fingers, looking at him leaning against the water green wall of the apartment. - If you keep this up, it won't be long before I'm going to be arrested for concealing a corpse.

Aemond just ignored him, muttering something unintelligible under his breath.

-Okay, I've lost my patience. - Aegon walked over to the drinks table where his cell phone was. - I'm still the big brother and if I don't eat a sandwich, take a shower and wear clean clothes… I'll call Helaena.

-Fuck you, Aegon. - Aemond closed his eyes firmly with anger.

-I'm serious. I'm going to say that you've been on my couch for three days without showering or moving and she's going to freak out and leave the turtles and her other weirdnesses just to come see you.

Aemond rolled his eyes angrily and let out a hiss of indignation, he hated it when Helaena worried. The last time was enough.

And seeing that his brother was serious, he got up and walked towards the guest room to finally take a shower. When he finally came down the stairs, Jaehaerys was drawing a syrupy smile on his pancake with little blueberry eyes and a strawberry nose. While Aegon poured juice and prepared two sandwiches, he hummed a song and nodded positively at something his son said.

-Uncle Aem! - Came the little boy's excited voice. - I got the best grade in the class in art once again!

-My teacher even told Daddy to put me in a drawing class! - He swung his legs over the counter. - Isn't that right, Daddy?

-Yes, it is, little mouse. - Aegon ruffled his son's hair, smiling and holding out the plate with the sandwich to Aemond.

-That's amazing, Jae, really amazing. - Aemond smiled melancholy as he remembered how excited Y/n had been when she was enrolled in the drawing class years ago. And as he bit into the sandwich, his heart ached and he wondered if Y/n had eaten the food brought to her in the room.

-Are you going to the ball tonight? - Aegon raised his eyebrow as he watched the younger one.

-I have to go. - Just like the last few days, he didn't look his brother in the eyes when he spoke.

-At least try to get some sleep. And not on the couch, lie down in the guest room and get some rest or you'll have a syncope in the middle of the party.

-Daddy, what is sinky? - Jaehaerys tilted his head to the side, his cheeks stained with maple syrup.

-When Uncle Aemond goes days without sleeping and falls flat on the floor like a fool. - Aegon explained, making a funny face as he wiped the laughing little boy's face.

After breakfast, Jaehaerys dragged Aemond by the hand up the stairs and practically forced him to lie down on the bed with soft sheets. Scolding him in a gentle way that reminded him of Helaena, saying that he would not let him have such a "sinky" and that he would take care of him.

And when the little boy left the room with Sunfyre in tow, he closed the door carefully and whispered in a sweet, childish voice.

-Sleep well, Uncle Aem.

He felt his heart tighten at the prospect of forever losing the dreams he had dreamed of his entire life and now perhaps could never have.

❦❦❦

Y/n was walking out of Tyrell with several bags hanging from her arms while keeping a serious look on her face to keep from breaking down. The hotel driver was waiting for her in front of the store in a black car, and when she put the bags in the back seat to get in, she heard a familiar voice calling her name.

-Cece, dear! - She greeted with forced joy and a sweet smile on her lips.

-Doing last minute shopping for tonight?

-Yeah! I've been so busy the last few days that I haven't had time! - She rolled her eyes, smiling and putting her right hand to her temple.

-Completely normal. - Cece rolled her eyes. - Where are you going to get ready?

-Missy Misaria obviously. - Now it was Y/n who rolled her eyes as if that were obvious.

-What do you think about going to the ball together then? - Cece arched her eyebrows and smiled interestedly. - I'm also going to get ready there, and then my brother will come by with the driver to pick me up. Our parents will arrive early, you know… business.

-Oh, that would be great! - Y/n narrowed her eyes thoughtfully as she heard her speak, and a small smile appeared on her lips.

❦❦❦

Hours later Aemond left the room, he hadn't slept well, but at least he had stretched his back and tired body. As soon as he passed in front of his nephew's door he frowned when he heard the singing coming from the bathroom, and opening the door he found Aegon washing Jaehaerys' hair in the bathtub while the boy sang and struggled in the bathtub to make more foam.

-Are you getting ready for the night? - Aemond frowned since it was at most 3:00 pm and the ball only started at 6:00 pm.

-I started early. - Aegon shrugged. - I need to comb Jae's hair and dress him so I can take a shower and get dressed.

-And what are you going to wear? - Aegon looked him up and down, since Aemond was wearing shorts and a shirt borrowed from him.

-I could even lend you one of my suits, but I don't think you'll be well received at a gala ball with your shins out, Mr. Big Guy.

Jaehaerys laughed as he usually did when his father made a joke, even if it wasn't funny.

-Listen, sooner or later you'll have to come home again… - He shrugged, making a mohawk with shampoo in his son's silver hair. - Maybe it'll even help you think about what to do.

Taking a deep breath and deciding to follow his brother's advice, he said goodbye and left his brother's home, heading towards his own apartment.

Aemond could barely look around as he entered. Everything was exactly the way she had left it when she left, the blanket on the sofa, the glasses on the counter, a half-eaten peach on the computer desk.

He ended up letting out a sideways smile when he realized that Vhagar was lying lazily on the couch, completely asleep. And feeling a little relieved, he put more food and water in her bowls, since what Aegon had served was almost gone.

When he entered the room, he saw Lys's unpacked bags lined up on the floor, and with a melancholic smile, he opened the one containing the orange sweatshirt and the white blouse, sighing when he realized that the sweet smell of her skin was still stuck to the fibers of the fabric.

And after gently placing the clothes on the bed, he took a deep breath and then headed towards the shower, trying not to think about her body clinging to his while they both bathed and exchanged passionate kisses.

The shower was longer than he expected, and there in the safety of his own bathroom, completely alone, a few tears ran down his face, mixing with running water falling from the shower.

Shortly after drying himself with the towel still wrapped around his waist, he picked up a small golden key and the clothes on the bed, walking to the living room. Just like he usually did when he was sad, Aemond opened the heavy curtains in the living room and let out a sigh as he looked at the horizon at dusk.

And taking a deep breath, he left the clothes on the shelf and put the key in the lock of the wooden chest, but as soon as he did so, a notification sounded on the cell phone that had been left in his room. Feeling a slight thread of hope, Aemond walked quickly towards the cell phone, but when he got there he only sighed in disappointment when he read what was written.

Find floris at her house! - Grandpa

-Hell. - He muttered, pressing his eyes tightly closed and heading towards the closet to get dressed.

Nothing there seemed to have the same shine without her, he never felt that it actually did, but at that moment it seemed that what was already black and white had become just gray.

He dried his hair and tied it back, leaving the rest loosely falling down his back. And right after putting on his shoes, he heard Aegon's voice calling him by name in the hallway. After Aegon was quiet, Jaehaerys' voice sounded right after, imitating his father, but shouting "Uncle Aemy", making him roll his eyes.

-We are no longer in the age of conquest. - He muttered grumpily as he opened the door. - They already invented the doorbell.

-Are you coming with us? - Aegon chose to ignore him, something that was very common on his part.

-I need to get Floris.

-Oh… I see. Then we'll see you later. - He suddenly nodded seriously.

-Bye uncle Aem. - The little boy waved and Aemond smiled sideways when he saw him wearing a suit as he walked all pompously to the elevator imitating Aegon.

❦❦❦

As soon as Aemond stopped the car in front of the Baratheon mansion, the butler opened the door and Floris came down the small stone staircase in the entrance hall to meet him, wearing a yellow dress and with her hair tied up. The butler ran to the car and opened the door for the girl to get in, and she frowned as she looked at Aemond.

-That's it? Couldn't you have at least bothered to order a limo? Are we going in your car? - She glared at him as Aemond left the mansion grounds.

-I didn't have time to think about it. - Aemond hissed slightly irritated, squeezing the steering wheel with both hands.

-But of course not! You were too busy embarrassing me. - She rolled her eyes in disdain. - Do you think people weren't asking me things all the time? That my friends aren't whispering when they think I'm not listening?

-Your friends are all treacherous snakes who would kick you in the back if they could. - He mocked irritably, speeding up the car.

-And what are you? - She bit back.

-I never promised you anything! - He growled, turning towards her angrily. - You knew from the beginning that I didn't love you, our parents decided this relationship.

-No, but at least your mother assured me that you weren't some creep who went around fucking your own cousin. And now look at this… - Floris widened her eyes at him, tilting her head to the side and then making a face. - You two make me sick!

-So why don't you just end it all? - Aemond growled angrily, glaring at her as he stopped at the traffic light.

-Because you know I need this as much as you do! - She almost screamed in anger, waving her hands. - I'm the second daughter too, my older sister will probably be the future CEO of Baratheon Industries, but if I married you my father wouldn't think twice before leaving me as the main heir.

-Your mother called me and assured me that it was all a misunderstanding, that it wasn't what it seemed.- Floris made a childish voice and pouted while imitating Alicent. - She thinks I'm some kind of idiot and that I don't see what's happening in front of me!

-I can't marry you! - Aemond said abruptly, stepping on the brakes, making the car behind him honk loudly.

-What? - Floris hissed, her eyes flashing. - Listen here, the engagement has already been announced, your mother and grandfather assured us that we'll get married and solve all this. So I think you better calm down and go back to the real world where we live and no septon in the world is going to marry you off to that lunatic cousin of yours!

-Don't you dare say anything against her! - Aemond growled, his voice dripping with anger, and he pressed his eyes tightly together.

-Then I talk about you! No one will ever accept this in high society, and if you bring this madness to light… you'll be burying yourself and your career. - She rolled her eyes as if Aemond was an imbecile, and he didn't say anything in return, just driving faster than the streets of Kings Landing allowed.

-At least pretend to be happy tonight. - She practically growled, opening the door for herself as Aemond handed the keys to the event valet minutes later.

❦❦❦

The hall was decorated with everything that was finest that night, and the many guests who arrived looked at everything in amazement, each year the Targaryen ball was more beautiful than the year before.

And even with so much beauty Aemond didn't care, even when they walked the red carpet moments ago and the camera flashes almost blinded him at the entrance of the event all he could think about was Y/n, what she was doing at that moment and how he would beg her forgiveness on his knees at that moment if he could.

Floris' golden dress shone even more with the camera flashes and she smiled robotically as she posed correctly for the photographers, making sure to leave the farce that was that ridiculously large ring in evidence.

The two went down the stairs, crossing the hall side by side with rigid postures while Floris forced joy and greeted back everyone who congratulated her on her engagement, while Aemond just nodded and thanked him in a taciturn way.

-Can you at least pretend a little better? - Floris hissed just for him to hear without taking the smile off her face and Aemond had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

-That's my best. - He spoke almost monotonously while staring at a fixed point on the wall with an almost lost look, making Floris snort and with a fake smile pat his shoulder right after walking towards the younger sisters.

The anger for being at that ball and not by Y/n's side corroded his veins and without thinking much after Floris walked away he just approached the bar still with that lost and unfocused look and took the first drink he saw the boy behind the counter preparing for the Gods know who.

-Little brother, I don't know if you noticed, but this isn't water. - Aegon raised his eyebrows, moving closer when he saw Aemond drink the second glass.

-Mmmm. - He deliberately ignored what the older man said, going in another direction.

-Aemond considering the fact that you have the alcohol tolerance of a squirrel I think it's better to stop. - The eldest took the glass from his brother's hand and exchanged it for the glass of champagne he was carrying with him, drinking Aemond's drink in one go and making a face when he almost choked.

-What the fuck are you drinking?

-I don't know. - Aemond rolled his eyes, more grumpy than usual, his voice stopping at a growl. - I just took it from the bar.

Suddenly a strange commotion began outside the hall where the photographers from the magazines and newspapers were positioned looking for the best angle, leaving some of the more attentive guests looking in the direction of the main door.

It was then that moments later a strange silence briefly took over the hall, only the soft music playing in the background, until low murmurs began again and louder conversations returned soon after.

And when Aemond looked towards the door he saw her entering the hall in a long blood red dress that still left a lot of skin on display, as it had a huge side slit on the leg and thin straps that led to a reasonably deep neckline. Her skin seemed to glow under the lights of the hall and Aemond's heart skipped a beat as he admired her.

Her beautiful silky hair was tied in an elaborate hairstyle and her neck adorned with a necklace with hundreds of diamonds, and the realization that she was not wearing her beautiful sapphire made Aemond's heart ache. Still, she was certainly the most beautiful of all those present, and that was the only certainty he had that night as soon as he laid eyes on her.

-Take a picture, it will last longer. - Aegon had a mocking look on his face as he took the glass of champagne from his brother's hand and downed it in one go.

The sparkle in Aemond's eyes disappeared almost instantly the next moment, because behind Y/n entered Jason Lanister and with a smile crossed his arm around her waist, guiding her through the hall through the people.

At that moment Aegon was sure, if he hadn't taken the glass from Aemond's hand he would have broken the stem with the amount of force he was squeezing his own hands.

❦❦❦

-What in the name of the seven hells is she doing here? - Oto growled angrily at Alicent as the two watched Y/n descend the stairs next to Jason. - Didn't you say she didn't confirm her presence?

-And she didn't! - Alicent scolded with wide eyes. - I checked the list twice.

-I should have suspected she would do something like that! - Oto muttered angrily, almost pulling out his own hair as he ran his eyes around the room, observing each person's reaction to Y/n's arrival.

And to make the man's mood even worse, Daemon appeared at the top of the stairs accompanied by Laena and his pre-teen daughters.

-The gods should have forbidden this damn man from reproducing. - Oto swore furiously heading towards Aemond and Aegon with Alicent at his heels.

Having difficulty moving through the hall without being stopped to talk to almost every guest who greeted him, when Oto and Alicent finally reached their final destination, Aemond and Aegon were no longer alone. Viserys, Daemon and his family were with them.

Jaehaerys was now at Aegon's side, looking curiously at the unknown people he had already realized were family.

-Oto, it's been a while. – Daemond smiled mischievously. - I hope you've resolved your problems with the party officials.

Oto hated Daemond with all his might, and not content with messing up Oto's life personally, he had to leave an heiress in his place when he finally left.

-And I hope you've learned to behave better in the face of fatherhood.

Before Daemon could answer, Rhaenys and Corlys joined him, all smiles at seeing their daughter and granddaughters.

-Oh, Laenor can't come, he's been working too much lately, you know? - Rhaenys rolled her eyes affectionately as she spoke of her eldest son.

Viserys was all smiles as he talked to his cousin and brother, and Aemond barely heard what was being said, just looking in Y/n's direction, not missing a single movement she made. Until a soft voice called him and he looked away.

-Little brother, is everything okay? - Helaena looked at him worriedly with Daeron by her side, and Aemond forced a smile and ended up nodding to the older sister.

Helaena was beautiful in her own way, wearing a light blue dress full of details that looked like scales. Her hair was a little tied up and a little loose, full of hairpins that looked like small sparkling leaves or shiny beetles.

-It's okay Hel, don't worry about me. - He muttered, looking again at where Y/n was, but she had disappeared.

Aemond looked around, feeling his stomach churn momentarily, and when he finally turned back, he saw her approaching with Jason by her side and a sweet smile on her face.

-Y/n, dear! - Viserys hugged her. - I thought you weren't going to come, how good the joy of your presence gave us.

-Jason was kind enough to offer to accompany me, uncle. - Y/n lightly laid her head on Jason's shoulder and Aemond felt his palms tingle.

And as if nothing else was needed, Rhaenyra came all smiles towards them all, accompanied by her husband and her insufferable children.

-Uncle, I heard you're engaged, I never imagined this day would come. - Luke mocked, making Jace laugh. And even though she was mad at Aemond, Y/n wanted to slap that little idiot on the head for talking to him like that.

Normally Aemond would be angry, but he didn't even process Luke's words, too concerned with where Jason's hands were on Y/n's waist.

-Oh, how good it is to see our family all together after so long. - Viserys's eyes shone with a smile, seeming oblivious to all the tension in the hall.

-I want a picture! - He smiled even more, waving to one of the photographers and guiding Alicent closer to him. - A family picture!

And still with tense looks, everyone gathered in front of the photographer, Viserys in the center with Alicent on his left and Rhaenyra on the right. Harwin hovered beside Rhaenyra like a shadow three times her size, his hand resting on her shoulder protectively as Jace, Luke, and Joff stood in front of their father together.

Daemon stood next to his favorite niece and her husband, standing next to Harwin with Laena at his side and their two daughters in front of them. And to stay close to his youngest daughter and granddaughters, Corlys stopped beside Laena, gently pulling Rhaenys to stand in front of him.

Behind Alicent, Oto hovered with one hand on his daughter's shoulder and a serious look on his face. Beside Alicent was Helaena, smiling happily as she adjusted her golden flower tiara. Beside her, Daeron smiled discreetly, smoothing his hair with the palms of his hands and whispering something softly to his older sister.

Aegon stood behind Helaena with Jaehaerys in his arms. The boy looked curiously at his aunt and just by looking into his eyes, you could see that he was considering the idea of taking one of the shiny hairpins from Helaena's head, but his father was too busy keeping his eyes on his younger brother to notice.

Aemond stood beside Aegon, looking deadly serious as he clenched his jaw so hard that the older man thought he could hear it creaking. His gaze was clearly directed at Y/n, who was staring back at him in the same way.

Whenever Viserys asked for photos like this at charity balls or even at simpler events, Y/n would run to Aemond's side with a smile on her lips, and they were so close that there was barely room for an atom, but that night she looked away and walked towards her father, stepmother and younger sisters, receiving a sweet smile from Laena and a discreet curve of lips to her father. Daemon placed his hand gently on Y/n's shoulder and she stood before him with Baela and Rhaena on her left side.

The eyes of everyone at the ball were turned in that direction, and even a layman could notice the glares exchanged between Aemond and Y/n, while Alicent and Oto looked worriedly at both of them.

The flashes went off blinding them all, and as soon as the photos were taken everyone separated at the same moment.

-Don't worry Oto, I've been overcoming the challenges of parenthood every day, but I assure you that at least I don't intend to pimp my daughters for social positions. - Daemon whispered only for Oto to hear before moving away.

-You insolent man! - Oto hissed furiously as Daemon walked away.

-Helaena! - Y/n's excited voice rang out as she gently hugged her cousin. - I missed you so much.

-Ah Y/n, I felt you too! - The eldest gently tilted her head as she spoke. - Do you know that I work at the beach now? - She rambled excitedly. - Those little turtles I told you about once are finally being protected.

-That's great Hel, I'm so happy. - Y/n hugged her once again and Helaena smiled, reciprocating softly as was her custom.

Until Jason said something in a low voice to Y/n and guided her in another direction. At the same time Aemond went after the two, feeling his head exploding with anger and frustration when he saw that filthy man touch her waist. But before he could reach them, Aegon stepped in front of him, stopping him discreetly.

-Aemond, what are you doing? - He gave a fake smile to those watching from outside and took a glass of champagne from the tray that was passing by.

-I'll do it the old way. I'll cut off his hands and then make him swallow them. - He hissed with so much anger and seriousness that Aegon swallowed hard, not knowing if his brother was serious or not.

-Alright, take it easy, knight of the realm. - Aegon frowned. - Public dismemberments were banned about 500 years ago.

And before Aemond could say anything else, Floris appeared in the middle of the crowd, burning him with her look of fury that was visible even with her hiding it behind a smile.

-Mrs. Stark loved my ring and found it in extremely good taste. - She said in a falsely gentle voice. - She wishes to greet us.

And crossing her arm through Aemond's in a firm grip, she practically dragged him towards the Stark table. The two once again received a shower of congratulations and greetings for the engagement, which made Aemond's stomach churn as his eyes frantically searched for Y/n among the people, never losing sight of her for more than a minute with her being easy to identify in the red dress.

Until the inevitable happened and the two couples met in the hall, staring at each other vehemently.

-Floris, my dear, it's been so long since I've seen you. - Y/n smiled cynically.

-Really a long time, Y/n. - She looked at her up and down bitterly. - I didn't think you would come back so soon, I heard that you were going to become a septa.

Y/n frowned and almost choked upon hearing that, but she recovered almost instantly.

-Who made you think such a thing?

-Your aunt? - Floris arched her eyebrow.

-Although she doesn't look like it, Aunt Alicent has a very good sense of humor. - Y/n forced a smile as she gave Aemond a prickly look, who barely noticed the conversation, too busy glaring at Jason.

-It's a beautiful dress, but from what I can see, it's not a famous signature. - Floris teased Y/n with a look of superiority as she pointed out her dress.

-Oh no, my dear, it's from Tyrell, the new collection hasn't even been released yet. - Y/n smiled provocatively, pouting slightly. - I'm a personal friend of Olena Tyrell, she insisted that I choose a more recent one.

-Yours, on the other hand… Yves Saint Martel, isn't it? Two years ago… - Y/n sighed cynically, her hands on her hips, smiling internally when she saw the angry look on Floris' face, so Olena was right about the dress. - I would have chosen something better for such an important occasion.

-Come on, Jason, I want to talk to Cece. - She pulled him away, leaving without giving Floris a chance to respond.

❦❦❦

-Floris is stunning. - Pia murmured to Jane, enchantedly observing the dress with a golden fabric that shone as if hundreds of tiny diamonds were sewn through the fabric.

-Yeah, it's a shame her fiancé is more busy mentally murdering Jai Lanister than asking her to dance. - Elyrio rolled his eyes, carefully observing the movements around the room.

-Just look at their skin. - Lion arched his eyebrow. - I knew she would be as tanned as him, in person she looks even more sunburned than in the photo in that magazine.

-I think that if he could kill Jai, he would have already killed him. - Jane whispered, observing Aemond discreetly and feeling a little uncomfortable with the strength of the anger that emanated from his gaze.

-He's having an affair with his cousin and Floris probably knows about it. - Pia murmured slightly astonished, as if even after all the previous assumptions this was a shock.

-They both announced their engagement. - Nia spoke without even a drop of the certainty that was in her voice a few days ago when talking to her friends.

-That doesn't stop him from cheating on her. - Elyrio shrugged, taking a sip of champagne as if that was totally obvious.

-Did you see Flo's face at the opening of your sister Nia's restaurant? - Jane arched her eyebrow a little tensely as she remembered. - I asked her about Aemond and I thought she was going to strike me down alive.

-Did your sister tell you if Floris told her anything? - Lion looked at her, bursting with curiosity.

-No, she didn't tell me anything, but I think Floris just didn't tell her. My sister wouldn't be able to hide something that big from me. - Nia still seemed shocked by the situation as she watched the glances exchanged between Aemond and Y/n, who were walking with their respective partners through the hall, but didn't even seem to know they were there.

-Even better, did you see the photo of Y/n leaving his building shortly after the engagement announcement? - Elyrio brought the subject back to Y/n and the photo that had been almost more talked about than the engagement. - He seemed to be out of his mind! Disheveled and crying in public, I've never seen her do that, not even when we were kids at school!

-From what I've heard, the rumor circulating among the hotel staff is that she disappeared after she arrived in the city and came back on the day of the engagement announcement, locked herself in the room and never came out again. - Jane muttered

-I heard that Aemond went there! - Lion shrugged. - But I don't know if it's really true. The driver was telling our cook that he heard it somewhere, so I'm not sure.

And the trained eyes followed Aemond as he moved away from Floris and headed once more towards the bar, followed closely by Aegon.

-Wait a second, was Aegon dancing with Cece's aunt? - Elyrio whispered with wide eyes, starting a new gossip in the group.

❦❦❦

-I hope your bloodlust has reduced after that walk. - Aegon put his arm over Aemond's shoulder, and the youngest removed it in the next instant.

-Mmmm. - Aemond almost growled, drinking another glass of champagne in one go, making Aegon scratch his head apprehensively.

The minutes passed and Aegon watched Aemond while Aemond watched Jason and Y/n. And when the urge to go to the bathroom became too much to bear, Aegon waved to Daeron discreetly and the younger crossed the dance floor towards them.

Aegon just gave him a look and Daeron nodded, standing next to Aemond while the older brother went to the bathroom.

-Hey big bro, I think it's best not to drink anymore. - Daeron smiled very kindly, advising Aemond who just rolled his eyes and took another sip from the glass.

But then moments later he saw Y/n walking alone towards the bathroom, and without thinking twice he put the glass on the counter and went towards her.

-Where are you going? - Daeron said trying to be casual and failing miserably, making Aemond roll his eyes deeply.

-To the bathroom. - The oldest continued walking but stopped abruptly and without turning around he growled. - Daeron, I swear that if you follow me into the bathroom I will kill you, and then Aegon.

The younger brother just swallowed hard and let him go while watching from afar with wide eyes as he took a sip of champagne to disguise himself, almost choking as he drank from Aemond's glass realizing that what was there was clearly not champagne.

❦❦❦

Y/n was walking towards the bathroom when she felt a strong hand pulling her into the dark hallway next door, and she almost screamed but as soon as she felt the touch on her skin she knew almost instantly that it was Aemond pulling her.

-What do you think you're doing? - Aemond growled at her as soon as they arrived in the corner.

-I just came to the ball, It's not a big deal. - She laughed carelessly as she spoke venomously.

-With Jason Lanister? - He hissed softly, getting even closer to her and Y/n could smell a slight smell of alcohol on his breath.

-Did you drink whiskey? - She whispered with concern, bringing her palm to his face, momentarily forgetting her anger.

-That's not the point. - He muttered, still enraged. - He's always been following you around like a stupid dog! Get away from him right now!

Y/n's anger resurfaced redoubled with those words.

-Who I hang out with is none of your business anymore. - She hissed angrily, pulling her hands out of his reach. - And don't you dare touch me again!

-Jason has been very kind to me tonight. - She mocked, her smoldering eyes hidden behind a sweet smile. - A true gentleman. Maybe I'll give him a kiss at the end of the party as a reward!

-You won't let that fucking bastard touch you! - Aemond shouted muffledly so that only the two of them heard

-Oh really? And who's going to stop me? You? - Y/n sneered, throwing her neck back. - I think you're too busy receiving your engagement congratulations for that! - She growled and left him alone and furious in the dark side hallway.

That was the problem with Y/n and Aemond knew it, she was too sweet for her own good. But even the gentle beast can bite when it feels threatened

❦❦❦

When Aemond returned, Aegon and Daeron were arguing lightly and the older man sighed in relief when he saw him.

-Thanks to the gods.

Aemond couldn't even express his anger, he just rolled his eyes and ignored the two of them, feeling that the only thing that would make him happy that night was to strangle Jason Lanister. And to make things even worse, he felt an unwanted touch on his right shoulder.

-Darling. - Floris called him in a sweet voice that didn't match the angry look in her eyes at all. - Your mother asked us to take more pictures.

She pulled him by the hand away from his brothers, leading him towards one of the ball photographers. Amidst the smiles for the pictures, Floris subtly touched his chest between his shirt and jacket, caressing it affectionately and after the last picture was taken the girl smiled and left a soft kiss on Aemond's chin. Making his stomach turn, not with pleasure or joy like when Y/n did it, but with pure repulsion.

And while Floris pretended very well, walking and smiling among the people, he just went back to the same corner with a vacant look, barely noticing that Daeron had disappeared and only Aegon was there watching him.

-Listen… - The older man sighed, staring at him. - This whole shit show is going to be over soon and then we can just go home and be quiet…

-Daddy… Daddy… - Jaehaerys arrived, pulling on the hem of Aegon's jacket. - I need to go to the bathroom!

-Just a second, little mouse… - Aegon looked around, looking for Daeron in the crowd, but couldn't find him.

-I know what you're doing and I don't need a babysitter. - Aemond practically growled, still looking in the direction of Y/n and Jason Lanister.

-Stop staring. - Aegon hissed, pulling the youngest to the corner. - It's already getting bizarre, people are noticing. -Mmmm. - He rolled his eyes, taking another glass of champagne.

-Daddy! - Jaehaerys called once again with a demanding voice and jumping with his eyes closed.

-Daddy's going, just a second, little mouse, I swear… - He smiled at the little one as he spoke softly, then turned to Aemond.

-I'll be back in five minutes. Try not to burn a hole in Lanister's forehead just with your withering glare in the meantime. - Aegon whispered hurriedly, then hoisted Jaehaerys by the armpits and picked him up in his arms, heading towards the bathroom.

-Idiot. - Aemond rolled his eyes in a bad mood as he watched his brother disappear into the hallway.

Aemond's blood was almost boiling in his veins. He watched Jason from afar with his body pressed against Y/n's while he murmured things to her, as if he had any kind of intimacy with her. Hatred made his stomach boil, and he gripped the stem of the champagne glass so tightly that it could very well break.

❦❦❦

Y/n's eyes were burning, she couldn't tell if it was from anger or jealousy, the only thing she knew was that seeing Aemond next to Floris Baratheon all handsome and hot while they took all those pictures of them made her want to jump on Floris and pull out every single strand of her hair.

The moment Floris Baratheon touched his chest and then kissed him on the chin in public just like she always did in secret, Y/n felt like an arrow of pure hatred had pierced her heart, and she had to hold herself back from crying in public.

But that's when her mind lit up and Y/n got even angrier, that wasn't Floris' fault. This was Aemond's fault. And if he thought things could be like that, she would give him a taste of his own medicine. At that very moment she swallowed all her anger and put on a mask of smiles and satisfaction for everyone around her.

And minutes later, when Jason Lanister asked her to dance again, unlike the other times, Y/n broke into a sweet smile and accepted the request. As she walked to the dance floor, she had to contain her victorious smile when she felt Aemond's gaze burning against her back. Y/n only forgot one thing, Aemond was not very good at being subtle when he was angry.

Jason was dancing very close to Y/n, certainly much closer than the music playing at the moment required. And she smiled and feigned satisfaction as she moved with him across the dance floor, when Jason spun them around and she could see Aemond and momentarily Y/n's heart raced. The look of murderous jealousy on his face almost made her moan in satisfaction.

And suddenly Jason spun her around again and she lost sight of him amidst the other people in the room. Jason got even closer and discomfort and repulsion took over Y/n when he firmly squeezed her ass, that was only good when Aemond did it.

But she didn't need to think about it twice, because she had barely finished thinking about what Jason had just done and Aemond had already pulled him off her by the arm with his face contorted in fury and punched him in the face making horrified screams ring out throughout the Ball.

tag list: @afro-hispwriter @fan-goddess @strangersunghoon @zenka69 @callsignwidow @amanda08319 @alesswift-blog @marialikescherries

Final notes:

Aegon blinked for a second and Aemond is finally going to attempt his murder! I hope you enjoyed it!! 💕💕

Next Chapter

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speckofvoid · 4 months ago

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Bonus

I have king herods song from Jesus Christ superstar on my serious character reserve playlist and it… it flashbangs me every time I hear it and I just sit there like this for a few seconds.

#drawing on company time bay be #jesus christ superstar #musical theatre #it sucks #character playlist #dnd campaign #dnd character #shitty doodle

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masterjedilenawrites · 7 months ago

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Take Me Out

Bad Batch x Reader Exchange 2024

Crosshair x fem!reader | 4.7k words

Content: drinking, light angst, introspection, fluff, light humor, crushes, relationships, friendship, mentions of war and death, weapons (practice setting)

Prompts: "What am I even looking for?" - "I don't know" & "Sometimes I think some work on your communication skills wouldn't be such a bad idea."

My gift is for the event host - @ghostofskywalker! I was so excited to draw your name and I really hope you enjoy the fic. You put so much work and care into hosting these events for the fandom, it really is appreciated 🤗

I've actually had this story concept in mind for quite a while. I love that pretty much all of your prompts/wish-list items were able to fit in! We've got some platonic Hunter, romantic Crosshair, a little angst, a bit of fluff... Perfect!

Oh, and to keep things spoiler free (on my blog and for the event), this takes place before Order 66 and Omega.

Please go check out the @cloneficgiftexchange blog for all the other contributions to this great event! Fics are being posted all throughout today (4/13/24). Spread the love for fandom writers/creators by reblogging!

Vandor-3. Clone training facility: recreation sector. Winter.

You sat slumped over the bar, a drink cradled in your arms. You took lazy sips at the liquid, long past its effervescence, in between chewing on the straw. You could smell the evidence of your waning hygiene, being curled in on yourself like this. It disgusted you but not enough to do anything beyond self loathing. To say you were miserable was an understatement.

"Morning, Captain. A bit early for a drink, isn't it?"

The husky voice of the bar's newcomer was unmistakeable in who it belonged to. There were clones abound on this small moon, hundreds of identical-sounding men. But every once in a while you had the pleasure of hearing the one that was different.

You sluggishly swiveled your head and gave Sergeant Hunter a mock salute. He leaned against the bar beside you, seemingly torn between being amused and concerned by what he was seeing.

"Back so soon?" you asked, ignoring his own question. Though your speech wasn't slurred, your voice still betrayed some of the numbness you were working to surround yourself in. Which helped your friend make up his mind on how to feel.

"Easy mission," Hunter shrugged off the topic. "You okay? Did something happen?"

"No," you sighed and forced yourself to sit upright. Best to appear more in control and not give him reason to drag you to the med bay. "That's the problem. Nothing's happened."

Hunter frowned and slid onto the barstool next to you. You caught a whiff of soap as he did, a harsh contrast to your own odor that made you even more upset.

"I don't understand."

Your hands cupped around your glass, condensation pooling around your fingers, and you stared at the melting ice wishing to be as frozen and unfeeling.

"I don't understand, either," you whispered. "Why I'm still so... alone."

"Ah." Hunter placed a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. "That's right, you had that date you were going on. Another dud, then?"

You nodded, still refusing to look away from the ice cubes.

He hummed in thought. Your poor friend. How many times had he now had to come up with some sort of reassuring comment after another one of your failed attempts to find love? At least you were grateful you had such a friend, though. Where others would have made you feel guilty for admitting to loneliness, would have insisted they were company enough and all you had to do was ask for it, it's as simple as that, how dare you feel lonely when you aren't actually alone... Hunter was the one who always saw through to what you really meant. You were not what the other wanted, but you were both wanting, craving that kind of deep, romantic connection that seemed to allude you both. For Hunter, it was obviously his schedule that got in his way. For you... well, that was the mystery.

"You have to keep looking," was the sentiment Hunter settled on this time. He rubbed at your shoulder a bit, as if trying to smooth out your misery.

You huffed. His attempts to comfort were sweet, but not enough. You couldn't help but protest. "But with everyone I meet, I just find out what I don't want. What am I even looking for?"

"I don't know," Hunter shook his head sadly. "I don't know if anyone knows until they find it."

You groaned and slumped back forward, facepalming the bar top and wishing you could sink right into it. Sink down, down, down until you disappeared completely.

"Sorry, Cap," Hunter's now muffled voice attempted to chuckle, lighten the mood. "If I could track down your soul mate, I would. You know I would."

That comment was sweet enough. You forced yourself to stop sinking, lift yourself up again, and face your friend properly.

"I know. And I appreciate that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be such a bummer today. It's just... it's been getting harder, is all."

He nodded and you nodded back and nothing further needed to be understood on the matter.

"Were you needing something from me?" you changed the subject. "Or did you come to day drink as well?"

"Ha, ha." Hunter started to get up. "Yeah no, I just wanted to let you know we were back for a few rotations, see if you'd have some time to finally come out and meet the boys."

You lifted up your glass and shook it a bit. "You're too late, I'm afraid. If I'd known you'd be back so soon, I wouldn't have started on this journey of self destruction."

Hunter titled his head at you, some of that trademark concern still showing. "This isn't going to be an all week thing, is it?"

You shrugged. Truthfully, you had no idea what to do with yourself. Making decisions even a day in advance seemed like too big of a commitment in your fragile state.

"I'd rather not meet any more new people right now, if it's all the same to you."

"I wouldn't consider them new. You've heard enough stories about each other by now. It's starting to get weird that you're not meeting, quite frankly."

You wanted to laugh, but the thought of introductions, stiff pleasantries, awkward small talk... It reminded you of every first date that never turned into a second, every dating app chat thread that went nowhere, every high hope you watched turn into disappointment. Even with a group like Hunter's brothers, the Bad Batch, with a reputation of being unconventional, who you'd only be making friends with just like you had with Hunter and every other clone on this moon... it was still too much for you to stomach.

"Sorry, maybe next time."

Hunter frowned, but he didn't overstep. "Suit yourself. Door's still open though. You know where to find us."

He made to walk out but paused to turn back to you for a moment.

"And hey, don't lose hope. We'll find our people soon enough. In the meantime, take care of yourself, alright?"

You waited until the bar doors closed behind him to let your tears fall.

* * *

Vandor-3. Woodland outskirts. Spring.

You were here. Finally.

You weren't able to pinpoint exactly where the turning point occurred, between crying yourself to sleep every night and being able to wake up with a smile on your face. A small one, of course, but a smile nonetheless. You weren't even sure it was something that had happened overnight. Slowly, eventually, the frost over your heart melted, the shadows in your thoughts grew thinner and lighter. Without even realizing you were drawing back the curtains and dusting off the shelves and each day being a little more open than you were the day before.

Your loneliness still existed. It came and went in waves, so while still devastating at times, you were at least afforded with periods of relief. Periods where you could smile again, find fulfillment in your work, and even dare to allow yourself to dream again. And not to mention taking more regular showers. It was always the little things that made the biggest difference, wasn't it?

And now here you were, standing in the early morning sun out in one of the training fields, the Havoc Marauder silhouetted against the sunrise as you shook hands with its crew in a meeting long overdue.

Hunter's stories had done the boys justice. Wrecker was just as larger than life as you'd pictured, aptly choosing to push past your outstretched hand and go in for a bone-crushing hug instead. Tech, who you'd come to know as the brains of the batch, only spared a second to be properly introduced before returning to fidget with some gadget. Echo was all politeness and disciplined respect, with his scomp-salute and ma'ams. And Crosshair... well, he was still on the ship asleep, which you supposed fit with the few facts you knew about him, too.

Hunter beamed beside them, clearly happy you had finally made the effort to meet his squad. His family, really. As a Captain overseeing drill training for the GAR, you knew better than anyone the close bonds these clones formed even before they stepped foot on a battlefield. This meant a lot to him, you being here. You felt awful for postponing so many times.

Once introductions were out of the way, and some pleasant conversation had passed, you eventually ventured out to the part of the training field that actually housed elements for training - your excuse for coming out here to meet everyone. A munitions crate full of shiny new blasters was carried between you and Wrecker while Hunter ran ahead to set up some targets. Tech and Echo went back to the ship to work on repairs.

"Aaaaugh. Only blasters?" Wrecker lamented upon opening the crate.

"Sorry, more budget cuts. This was all I could scrounge up for you guys."

Hunter was much more excited by the new weapons, though Wrecker still picked one up to try out. You held one as well but only used it to demonstrate different techniques. Just because you were good at training didn't mean you were the best at actually fighting.

The three of you picked off the various bottles, pots, and pans that Hunter had set up amongst the tree branches at the edge of the field for a short while. And on more than one occasion you found yourself pausing to breathe in the air and remind yourself that life was good. Maybe not how you wanted it, but it was still good and you'd need to continue to work on appreciating what you had.

After about an hour, there were only three bottles and a pan left, all proving tricky targets due to distance and angle. Hunter had even tried slinging a few knives to no avail.

"Okay I'm calling it," Wrecker announced with a huff. "One more missed shot and I'm blowing them up."

"I'll take that bet."

A new voice, one you'd never heard before, carried across the field. It was delicate and drawling and confident. Hunter chuckled and Wrecker rolled his eyes. And you... you had no idea that everything was about to change.

It was like he was moving in slow motion. Your surroundings blurred as the lanky figure caught the corner of your eye, your heart rate slowing as you turned and took him in. One confident step planted firmly in front of the other as he inched across the field. A sniper rifle perched on his shoulder. A toothpick between pursed lips. An eye surrounded by a reticle and narrowed in determination. He didn't even spare you a glance, and thank the gods, because if he had, you were sure your heart would've stopped beating altogether.

He squared off as soon as he reached the marks, bringing his rile forward to aim in a swift and careful motion. His head rested against the shaft, his tattooed eye squinted through the scope. You imagined him taking this stance a thousand times in his short life. It looked as natural a position as curling up on a couch might look for you.

You couldn't look away, not wanting to miss a single second of whatever this mesmerizing man was about to do. He was still for a moment, impressively so. You realized you were holding your breath as you watched, not wanting even your exhale to interfere with his process.

And then he fired. Once, twice, threefourfive times. Bang, bang, bang. Each in a different direction but no less precise than the one before. The first ricocheted off the pan and hit the green bottle, just as the second hit the red bottle. The three-shot volley was aimed at the branch the bottles sat on, causing it to crack and dangle even closer to the ground. And just when you thought the show couldn't be more over the top, the sniper swiveled his rifle toward the sky at a passing bird, clipped its wing with a shot, and then whipped out a pistol from his hip and fired at the remaining blue bottle just before the branch snapped and fell to the ground.

A few seconds later, the bird tumbled on top of the pile of shattered glass and splintered wood.

"Aaaand training is now over," said Hunter with a nod of his head. He raised his voice as he called out to his brother. "You'd better clean that shit up!"

The sniper flipped him the bird before sauntering off to clean up.

"Uh, you alright?"

Hunter paused in his own packing of gear to give you a concerned look. You were still staring after the newcomer, undoubtedly the lone Batcher you had yet to meet. Crosshair. Your brain had short-circuited with what you had witnessed him do, yes. But it was more than that. There was something about him. Something intriguing and attractive. Different than anyone you had ever known, and yet, somehow feeling so real and comfortable at the same time.

After a few waves of your friend's hand in your face, you snapped back.

"That," you breathed.

Hunter cocked a confused eyebrow.

"That is what I'm looking for."

* * *

Vandor-3. Clone training facility: recreation sector. Summer.

You were insanely busy. Separatist activity was ramping up in almost every corner of the galaxy and the GAR was responding to each new threat with full force. Rotations of new clone units were frequently arriving at the facility, one after another. You'd cycle them through a few trainings to get them certified on whatever was needed and then ship them right back out. And in between were all the additional tasks that needed to be taken care of. Piles of paperwork and coordinating schedules and ship inspections and updated security debriefings.

And yet through it all, you still had time to entertain the one thought that buzzed in the background of your mind: Crosshair. Every meeting, every meal, every training sim, first thing in the morning and last thing at night. He was there. Crosshair, Crosshair, Crosshair. On your mind, in your heart, driving you absolutely mad.

In the beginning you'd pretended it wasn't about him, specifically. You were simply happy to know what you wanted now, that you had a type and it existed. That was all. Hunter had turned up his nose, completely bewildered as to why that would be your type. You hadn't been able to give him much at the time; it would take you many rotations more to start describing the details of your newly discovered attraction.

But over time, it became harder to push aside the nagging thought that you hadn't found what you were looking for, but rather who. Specifically. Exactly. Why try to find someone like him when you already liked... him?

Oh there were plenty of ways you could answer that question, all of them self-deprecating and none of them productive. You could count on one hand now the number of times you had been in the same room as him, let alone interacted with him. The Batch may be frequenting the place more often as the war picked up, but not nearly as often as you needed to gauge whether someone like Crosshair would, could, or honestly even should be as interested in you as you were in him.

Today they were back on the grounds so Hunter could fill out some paperwork, and your heart had not stopped racing all morning. It was practically threatening to punch right out of your chest and run away. You weren't sure why, considering you'd probably only end up seeing Hunter this time. The rest of the Batch usually didn't venture into the facility unless they were staying overnight. But it seemed even knowing Crosshair was on the same planet as you got you worked up these days.

You carried Hunter's stack of paperwork with you now, intending to drop it off to him in between some meetings you had. As you hustled down the halls, you rehearsed a few ways you could subtly ask him how Crosshair was doing.

But as it turned out, you would have the opportunity to ask him yourself. If you could get over your frazzled shock at finding him in the rec room instead of Hunter.

The room was conveniently empty, making the silence between you that much more potent. Crosshair was standing awkwardly to the side, just behind one of the battered sofas, as if he had already been confused about what he should be doing before you pushed through the door. He stared at you and you stared at him and the moment only lasted for a few seconds but it felt like an eternity.

"Oh, um. Hi. Crosshair." You averted your gaze, despite having prayed the past several nights that you could see his face again soon. "I was... expecting Hunter."

That didn't sound right. You hoped he didn't take that to mean that you'd prefer if Hunter was here now. Obviously you didn't.

"He stepped out," Crosshair responded in that cool, even tone of his. Your eyes couldn't help but snap back to his as he talked. You wanted him to say more but he never did.

"Oh, okay. I just had some paperwork to give him."

Crosshair only hummed at first. You shuffled your feet a bit, debating whether you should make an attempt at small talk, try to coax more out of him, maybe even hint that you were interested in him. The thought terrified you, but not as much as the thought of being alone. You couldn't complain about that if you continued to let these opportunities pass by without at least trying to make a connection.

You shifted your weight again, intending to keep your feet planted so you wouldn't make a run for it, and Crosshair uttered your name hurriedly.

"Wait," he said. He'd thought you were leaving. You widened your eyes at him, waiting to hear what he'd wanted to tell you first. He seemed to hesitate before finally saying, "I was wondering if you knew what soup they were serving today?"

"Oh. Uh, potato, I think."

"How boring."

You smirked. "I know, right? They could at least serve it with some hot sauce."

Crosshair hummed.

The silence settled back in, though now you felt better about things. You'd practically had a conversation. Learned a little more about each other. It was a good start.

Your commlink suddenly beeped at your side and you blanched, remembering the meeting you were supposed to be heading to.

"I uh, I've got to go. It was nice talking to you."

It pained you to cut off your moment with him so quickly, but alas you were left with no choice. You shuffled back out into the corridor, though you only made it a few steps before realizing you still had Hunter's paperwork and could just leave it with Crosshair.

The rec room had an old school door that swung in and out on hinges. It was slightly ajar from when you passed through, and already in the few seconds since something was happening on the other side of it. You could hear more voices.

"...the kriff was that?" First, the deep tones of Hunter, equal parts annoyed and weary.

"That wasn't the plan." Then, the resolute voice of Echo, backing him up.

"What?" Crosshair bit back at them.

"You were supposed to ask her out," Hunter clarified.

"No, that was not the plan," Crosshair countered. "I needed to lay some groundwork first."

"You call that groundwork? You were talking about soup."

"And she agreed. No one ever agrees with me on the soup around here."

"What a special connection," Echo said.

Hunter sighed so hard you swore you could feel the breeze through the doorway. "You know, sometimes I think some work on your communication skills wouldn't be such a bad idea."

"What?"

"Never mind. Do what you like. Keep pushing away anyone who tries to love you and see where that gets you. Just know that it's exhausting, watching the two of you dance around each other like this."

"And kind of pathetic," added Echo.

You were against the wall by the door, holding in your breath for so long you were about to pass out. Or maybe it was the euphoria of knowing Crosshair was interested that made your head sway. Regardless, you had mere moments to make a move or let the opportunity pass. You dug into your pocket, fished out a pen, and scribbled a note on the top page of paperwork. Was it professional? Absolutely not. But the GAR would get over it. You left the papers by the door, making sure your note was turned to face it.

There's better soups on Coruscant. Let's go out sometime.

* * *

Vandor-3. Woodland outskirts. Autumn.

You were alone, standing in the middle of the training field, the early setting sun behind you casting a dim shadow across the remains of your latest training exercise. A chill was just starting to set in, causing you to tug at your jacket and pull it around you a bit tighter. You liked these moments, rare as they were recently. A quiet time to yourself. Not even to think, but simply to be. Present and comfortable. And you.

The wind picked up and sang through the taller blades of grass as a ship approached for landing. Your moment was over, but a new happiness settled in its place. Minutes later, the Havoc Marauder was opening its hatch and spitting out its soldiers.

"Captain," Hunter gave you a two-finger salute as he passed by.

"Sergeant," you returned with a smile.

Echo was close behind, giving you a respectful nod. Wrecker hauled a munitions crate in one hand and hit you up for a high five with the other. Tech was oblivious as he hunched over a data pad.

They filed by, one after the other, headed straight for the barracks, and what you hoped were the showers. They all knew not to linger, that you'd catch up with them later. This was your time with Crosshair.

The sniper was leaning up against the hatch opening, arms folded across a plastoid chest and a toothpick lazily perched between slightly curled lips. He took you in for a moment and you could feel yourself glowing in response to his soft gaze.

"Showing those clankers who's boss, I see," he said as he made his way down the gangway. He nodded his head toward the mess of scrap metal behind you.

You gave a half shrug. "My reaction time is getting better, but I still can't get the angles right with those pucks."

Crosshair inched up to you, gently resting his hands on either side of your waist. "Have you been doing the breathing exercises like I showed you?"

You nodded. Your hands instinctually came up to his run along his arms until they found the crook of his elbows, the only place not barring your touch by armor.

"And using the laser sight?"

You nodded a little slower and Crosshair tsked.

"I want to be good without it. Like you." You added a little extra honey to your words so he wouldn't reprimand you too much. It had been an adjustment for the two of you at first, he stepping into a training role and you stepping back to receive instruction for once. Thankfully the frustrations seemed to diminish the more your relationship progressed.

"You have to be patient," he said, giving your waist a slight squeeze to accentuate his point. "You aren't like the regs you train. You're building your skills, taking care of yourself."

You hummed, more in thought than agreement. "Will I ever have to use these skills someday, do you think? Is it really getting that bad out there?"

You tried not to think about how many soldiers you had trained only to be sent to a battlefield to die. How many of the shinies you were drilling right now would likely be killed soon. How many more would be brought in to take their place. You'd thought you'd known what you were getting yourself into with this job. But the relentless cycle of it all was getting to you more and more, especially as the Republic continued to be challenged in larger scales and higher stakes. It never seemed to end.

"It's hard to say," Crosshair responded. "We have to prepare for the worst."

You hated that answer, but you wouldn't let him see it. Not yet. Your fears and your displeasures, anger and sorrow, were things yet to be fully explored in this new relationship. All in due time. So you simply smiled, plucked the toothpick out of his mouth and tossed it aside.

"And hope for the best, right?"

He smiled back, or at least moved his mouth in the direction of a smile, as much as you could usually get from the reserved man. "Yes, of course."

He leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours. You both closed your eyes and breathed each other in. There was warmth in his embrace. A promise in the steady hands he held you with. Vulnerability in the skin that gently touched yours. To have someone this close, someone who was still more stranger than friend, though no less beloved, was what you had always wanted. And for once, what you wanted was just as lovely and fulfilling as you'd hoped. No catch. No deals. No unintended consequences. Just you and him and happiness.

All too soon he pulled away. His hand sought yours as he turned in the direction of the barracks. The longer you stayed behind, the worse the teasing from the others would be. They were only respectful of your relationship to a point, and after that it was fair game for a laugh. So you willingly followed.

"Crosshair?"

"Hm?"

"I was thinking about Hunter...."

The sniper glanced at you suspiciously.

"Well, you know he and I have been friends for a while. And he's confided a few things in me before. About what he wants. Or thinks he wants. He's changed his mind a few times on the specifics. But all in the same gist."

"Where are you going with this?"

"I don't know, I just feel like I owe him for helping me get through a tough time. And if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have ever met you. So--"

Crosshair cut you off with a groan. "If you're trying to get me to play matchmaker..."

"It would get some of the attention off of us," you quickly offered. "If Hunter had someone he was bringing around, too. Or even just interested in."

Crosshair frowned in thought. "There was a bartender on Scarif he kept checking out..."

You grinned and squeezed his hand affectionately. "See? Just keep an eye out and nudge him a bit. Who knows what could happen."

You could tell he was trying not to roll his eyes for your sake. Instead he squeezed your hand in return. "Or you could come with us and nudge him yourself?"

Your walking slowed, right as you were about to cross the facility boundary line. You would have to let go of his hand once you crossed it, keep a professional distance, share your company with others. And once the Batch's business here concluded, then you would have to let him go and watch him disappear into the sky with all the prayers you could possibly send with him. And then you would be on your own. Waiting, waiting, always waiting. And maybe he would return, and maybe he wouldn't.

And heaven forbid you would ever end up alone again.

"Or you can stay," he said. The quietness of his voice betrayed what he really meant, what he really wanted.

And you knew what you wanted, too. Without you realizing, it was getting easier and easier for you to define your desires. And not only that, but to pursue them, too. To know your happiness was worth the risk of disappointment. It was clear to you now that you were not only worthy, but also capable. The man standing before you, holding your hand, gazing at you like nothing else mattered, was proof enough.

And so you said, "Take me with you."

Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93, @arctrooper69, @sleepycreativewriter, @techie-bear, @theroguesully, @cw80831, @cdblake1565

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#star wars #the clone wars #the bad batch #crosshair #crosshair x reader #fluff #angst #romance #cloneficgiftexchange #hunter #wrecker #echo #tech

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ghostiguro · 2 months ago

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shamwow ref sheet, finally!!!!! :D

figuring out how to draw them was tough, still ironing out their design a bit, but overall i'm happy with how it looks. :3

you know what time it is-- ramble that no one asked for, aw yeahhh.

firstly, when designing them i for sure knew i wanted their design to be fuzzy & inspired by a tarantula; i know they're supposed to be a jumping spider but.. don't care, fuzzy spider supremacy. also tarantulas have weirdly adorable paws?? i love it.

their eye colour is supposed to be somewhere between red & violet; they look a bit more pink than i intended, so i'll probably adjust that as time goes by.

final thing i wanna add about their design specifically; because they are the eldest sibling, & it's insinuated that they absolutely merced all the other gods, i wanted their design to stand out more & be a little more fancy to show their status. i want to eventually add more details cuz i feel like i could make it look way cooler, but this is good for now. :3

it's made clear in the game that the bishops relied on the crowns to work around their disabilities, so when shamura is indoctrinated into the cult, they struggle a LOT with their head injury. their symptoms including, but not limited to; memory loss, poor facial recognition, visual trouble, brain fog, migraines, loss of fine motor skills, lack of balance & coordination, vertigo, struggles with vocabulary (stutters, can't find words, or sometimes makes up their own words), they often repeat things that don't really have much meaning, hand tremors, hallucinations, etc. they start out really bad, & their injury would be far worse if it weren't for the fact that they're a god & the crown prevented the injury from being as bad as it could have been. their siblings are all very patient with them, & the lamb assigns them a buddy as they begin to recover & are able to move around the cult grounds more. they eventually get to a point where they're able to function, still with moderate memory loss & brain fog, as well as migraines & hand tremors, but it takes them a *long* time to get to that point.

in their free time, they used to enjoy sewing & reading, but due to their injury, they struggle a lot with it which frustrates them to no end. they later get glasses to help with their vision so they can read, & learn how to knit & crochet, as sewing is a bit hard when your hands are constantly shaking & you're holding a tiny needle & thread.

later on in their recovery, they start helping out around the cult, doing a little bit of everything; they help the lamb with everyday duties when they can, usually small errands like delivering & retrieving items (they write them a little note in case they get lost along the way; shamura holds onto many of these notes, & have a basket in their room filled with notes they've collected over time); they help leshy in the farm/garden, heket in the kitchen when she's chefing it up, & kallamar in the healing bay, & occasionally keeps him company while he paints or crafts things. eventually, shamura & narinder are able to repair their relationship-- i haven't figured out what exactly narinder's tasks & hobbies are yet but they would keep him company & help when they can, too.

ok this is getting long so i'm gonna leave it here for now. :3

now i just have to finish the lamb & goat, & then all the rest of the characters & cult members... hoo boy.

#cult of the lamb #cotl fanart #digital art #cotl shamura #cult of the lamb fanart #ghosti-art

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starrysvn · 1 year ago

Text

angel | park seonghwa

pairing: fem!reader x non idol!park seonghwa

genre: soulmate au

word count: 3.5k

warnings: mentions of food, fluff

playlist: inception - ateez, francesca - hozier, unknown/nth - hozier

networks: @cromernet

author’s note: happiest birthday to my lovely star bai @hwaightme , i love you more than words can say <3 i hope today has been filled with nothing but happiness and laughter and love. thank you for being a precious friend and my partner in delulu. ilysm, sending the biggest warmest hugs <33333 please enjoy this delulu frankenstein

masterlist | navi

“Are you quite sure we should be doing this?”

The night was drawing to an end, and so was your wit. You could no longer stand to be in the suffocating ballroom, the amount of people spinning around was making you dizzy to the point of nausea. That was when he offered you a way out, seeing you struggle to maintain composure while sitting all alone.

“Absolutely not,” you heard the smirk in his voice while he led you out to the garden, sure you were following after him.

“How irresponsible of you to draw a young lady away to a dark secluded corner of a garden,” he laughed. “Should I be fearing for my life?”

When he stopped walking you almost ran into him, looking around to see you standing in the heart of the English Garden of the palace. During the night it was almost dreadful, as opposed to its beauty in the daytime, if it weren’t for the few scattered lights.

“Not at all,” he turned, but you couldn’t see his face. The thought confused you only for a second, for you knew this man. You trusted him with your life. He reached for your hand, holding it in his warmer one. “Not long, now.”

“Not long,” you whispered back, your surroundings slowly fading as he pressed his lips to yours.

Sometimes it was more than just a dream, you could feel it in your bones. It lingered during the day, the unshakable conviction that it was all true. That it had been true. It could not have been just your mind making up the ballroom dancing, whispered poems and a soft piano echoing during a sunny afternoon. So you wrote it all down in letters you kept under your bed. Most times the dreams had already escaped your memory, so all there was were jumbled thoughts scribbled quickly before even those could fade away. Other times, you woke up in the middle of the night, so convinced you were still there, still surrounded by warmth and love you never dared imagine could exist. Your hand blindly reached for the notebook you kept on your nightstand, chasing after the vivid imagery in your head.

The words you kept closer to your heart were the ones he whispered one night, you could hear vivid chatter from somewhere far away and the evening breeze making goosebumps erupt on your skin. But he was there, standing tall and faceless beside you, his hand guiding yours to his lips.

“Farewell, my angel,” he had whispered against your knuckles before you woke up.

In shades of dark and moonlight, you waited for the distinct feeling of the lingering feather-like kiss to vanish, both hoping it would and wishing it wouldn’t. Alone in your bed you hesitated to turn and reach for the notebook like you usually would; you had the feeling you could never forget the way his voice spoke the words that made every hair stand on ends.

And you never did, for each night you would be in his company in dreamland and, each night, he would call you his angel. He showed you a world of colors, of hushed whispers in the dark, a warm murmur by your ear as he enveloped you in his arms. It was all you ever wished to hear in the daylight rather than just inside your head.

It was another day waking up itching to know more, wanting to know if you were going insane or if this was the twisted way in which fate had decided to assign you your soulmate. All you had ever had were dreams that made no sense, yet gave you hope. Even when you did not know where to start, if to even dare at all.

There was little you could do, really, except live in a dream. Because even as you made your way down a busy street, en route to work, chopped away whatever you needed for lunch or dinner, every other thought was stuck on him. This illusion of a perfect man who faded as moonlight gave way to another day. Sometimes it felt so real that it was hard to discern from reality itself. The phantom brush of a hand, the faint memory of a scribbled note, of his contagious laughter. It was as if you could hear them, as if they refused to go and stay where they belonged.

But you couldn’t live in a dream, could you? You could hold out for however long it took, but you could not give up life in the meantime.

“I swear, just trust me!” Your colleague would not give up. The constant nagging had become almost unbearable, so much so that it made you want to give in. “One date and if it sucks, I’ll leave you alone forever, I pinky promise.”

The copier rapidly dished out the papers you needed to bring back to your desk, giving you the perfect excuse not to look up at San. You sighed, he had been on a mission to get you to go out with this guy for a while now. He swore up and down that you two were destined, but you usually were able to dissuade your colleague pretty fast. Not today, it seemed.

“Listen,” busying yourself counting the copies, you won another few short seconds before the time came to face San’s begging eyes. “Just one coffee?”

“Please, please, believe me you guys would be perfect togeth- hold up,” smile opening up on his lips, eyes shiny and wide, San almost did a double take. “Are you saying yes?”

Sighing again, you fiddled with the top corner of your papers - that you were now hugging to your chest - before nodding.

“One date,” you agreed, holding up your pointer finger right in front of his face. “And you have to stay near in case he’s weird and I need to escape.”

Proud of the conditions you laid down, you watched as San furiously nodded along, albeit a little offended that you’d think I’d set you up with some random weirdo. Thus, he ran back to his desk, murmuring about texting his friend. You let out one last sigh before returning to your station, too.

You hoped you’d made the right choice.

The first hints of autumn were making themselves known, a cooler breeze than usual surprising you as it caressed your face upon walking out the glass doors, the sun already on its way to set. You hid your face a little further into the scarf around your neck, walking out of your workplace beside San.

It had been a week since you gave into his pleading and he’d been very secretive about the infamous date. You were starting to worry. Maybe his friend had said no? Or was he planning something elaborate? Was he not saying anything because, really, this friend of his truly was just some weirdo?

You were pulled out of your thoughts by San himself, catching him wave and say something along the lines of there he is. He quickly found your elbow, gently hitting it with his, snapping you back to reality. You barely caught any detail of the man walking towards the two of you.

“Alright, that is the friend I was telling you about,” your head snapped into San’s direction, eyes wide as saucers. “Looks like you’re going on a date.”

Your friend was smiling his Cheshire grin, making you want to wipe it clean off his face.

“Choi San, this is an ambush!” You yelped, alarmed by his quiet giggling and eyebrow wiggling. “High treason even, could you not warn me at least-”

“Hi.”

Stood there, wrapped in a warm looking coat, was quite possibly the most gorgeous man you had ever seen. His smile was timid but friendly and his eyes were just as bright and warm, reflecting the lights from the lamppost. A few strands of wavy, chocolate hair fell delicately just above them.

“Well, I’ll leave you guys now, have fun!”

Oh, you were going to kill San.

“Hi,” you greeted, eyes leaving the retreating figure of your friend to focus back on the man in front of you.

“I’m Seonghwa, San’s friend,” he smiled again, melting your heart a little just by the sound of his voice. “It’s nice to meet you and I apologize for the suddenness of this all… it appears he didn’t need help with document boxes after all.”

“He sure didn’t,” you tried to keep the bitterness out of your voice, for it was San’s brilliant planning that landed you here, not his friend’s. So, you introduced yourself as well, suggesting to go to your favorite cafè just around the corner and trying to take the surprise blind date in stride.

“It’s the only place I could think of,” you said, almost apologetic as you sat down. Truth was, the little hole in the wall cafè was special to you. It housed memories of tranquil mornings where you got there early enough to sit down for a coffee before work, joyous lunches with friends to celebrate achievements, quiet afternoons spent in the company of your favorite books. Your feet had taken you here on auto-pilot.

“It’s lovely,” his smile could melt snow, you figured right then and there, after he’d looked around with curious eyes to the unique decor and shelves of literature, poems and papers.

Seonghwa was just as San had described him, after all. He made sure to open the door for you as you entered the cafè, he asked your order so he could go up to the register while you found a table you liked and even offered to pay. He was charming and a great listener, and he had managed to make you laugh until tears pooled in your eyes. It was so warm to be around him, easy to talk to as if you’d known him your whole life, almost as perfect as two puzzle pieces fitting together.

When it was time to leave you almost didn’t want to. You wanted to stay there with him and keep talking, keep sharing your interests and favorites, exist inside the cozy bubble that had formed around you two. So, with the promise of another date and Seonghwa insisting to at least walk you to the nearest bus stop, you went home.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, taking you by surprise when he dipped down to land a kiss on your cheek before you could get on the bus. It stayed with you, making you feel like a teenager all over again.

You went through the motions of preparing dinner and getting ready for bed as if floating on a cloud, barely believing you had it in you to feel so light. And if, while laying down on your bed with the lights off, you had felt so full of hope for something good, happiness and giddiness enough to make you giggle to yourself, then you woke up the following morning as empty as ever. A foreign hollow in your chest, that you had trouble identifying, was steadily painting everything gray, from the breakfast you made to the commute home. It was only then, sitting on the bus staring out to the traffic, that you realized you hadn’t dreamt of him that night. For the first night ever, you weren’t chasing after his fading figure.

Each night you went to bed hoping to hear his voice and see on which adventure sleep would take you. Then, each morning you woke up well rested and clear-headed: no more piecing together the fragments of dreams you couldn’t remember, no more trying hard to see the face of the man that made you feel loved. Months of empty nights went by until, with time, you even forgot to remember him unless you stumbled upon your notebook.

“You seem quiet today,” Seonghwa piped up, still browsing through the vinyls in front of him.

“I was just thinking,” you shrugged, making your way over to him and taking his hand in yours. His smile, soft and contagious, made your heart flutter. Still focused on his search, now led with one hand only, he intertwined your fingers. It was at times like these, when he would kiss the back of your hand, that you wondered.

“About what?”

Finally, he looked at you, eyes bright and welcoming and saying what his words hid: you can tell me anything. You just shook your head, smiling back at him, shrugging as if the wandering thought didn’t lie heavy on your head whenever it knocked on the doors of your consciousness.

“Alright, then, I have a surprise for you,” he pulled you away from the vinyl stand, almost as giddy as you felt, and into the busier paths of the market. Under string lights that festively shone, between the other passersby, it was easy to feel like you were the only two people in the world. That’s how Seonghwa made you feel; in his presence, living life was easier. If he was holding your hand, you were sure you could face any hurdles that may come. It was a feeling so real that you could almost taste it in his sweet kisses, his loving embrace, and no longer only dream of.

As he dragged you - arm lazily thrown on your shoulders or hand on the small of your back if too many people forced you two to walk in line - remnant, persisting memories almost made you dizzy with deja vu. His hand squeezing yours to make sure you were still following, to tell you he was still there, his voice pointing out whatever caught his attention as you passed by, the wintry breeze and the cacophony of voices, laughs, faraway music surrounding you.

“Here we are,” you almost bumped into his back when he stopped and stood facing the cafè that held the memory of your first date.

“It’s closed,” you pointed out, hearing his chuckle shortly after.

“Good thing I’ve got the keys,” he jingled them in the space between the two of you, a proud smile on his lips. You cocked your head to the side, brows furrowed.

“You’ll see.”

Seonghwa made quick work of opening up and leading you in, turning on the softer lights, leaving the sign on “closed”. As if on autopilot, you wandered around the room to the one table that had caught your eye. On it, laid few of your favorite pastries and pictures of you together, a colorful bouquet in the middle.

“Seonghwa… what’s all this?”

“Happy birthday,” his arms embraced you, bringing you to rest your back against his chest, holding you close. Speechless, you turned around in his hold, ready to speak but the words wouldn’t come. “I know you said you were working and were probably going to go home and do something on the weekend, but I didn’t want to just text you happy birthday and go about my day. Today is your day and you’re very special to me and I wanted to do something to wish you-”

You kissed him - interrupting his rambling and pulling him closer - gently like his arms were around your waist, warm like your cheeks and slow as if you had all the time in the world.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips, hands still playing with soft strands of his hair. “You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to,” he pecked your lips once again before sliding away from you and pulling out the chair for you to sit. As he did, another confused memory swirled in your head. You pushed it away. Sitting in front of you, Seonghwa asked about your day and let you ramble on and on, so you asked about his, too. He left his hand out on the table for you to hold, so you did, not missing the way he quickly hid a smile after you intertwined your fingers. Whenever he was close to you, Seonghwa wondered if you could tell how furiously his heart was beating in his chest; be it by brushing your finger against his pulse or resting your head against it.

When he deemed dinner over, he pulled out of its box a little cake and stuck a candle right in the middle of it for you to blow out - only after he’d sang happy birthday to you. Seonghwa found the way you covered your blushing cheeks with your hands the most adorable thing you could ever do. He seemed antsy, itching even, to give you your present, though. So you pushed the platter with your slice of cake aside.

“You could’ve finished,” he pouted, making you laugh over the rustling of a paper bag.

“You looked like you were about to explode, Hwa,” you accepted his present, wrapped pristine and precise, insisting that he didn’t have to. He kept on saying he wanted to (and also, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?).

A smile so bright it rivaled the sun opened up on your lips, seeing the art cover of your favorite artist’s album peeking from the torn wrapping paper.

“Is this why you were hogging the stand earlier?” You beamed at him, who sat with wide eyes hanging by your every word. You could tell his leg was bouncing.

“I couldn’t have you buy it when I got it for you,” he brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his you’d noticed, with a sheepish smile. You stood and, on the way to the record player of the shop, you kissed his cheek, murmuring a soft thank you. It was a look you wished to forever have engraved in your mind, the one he gave you when you offered him your hand to take, asking if you could have this dance.

Seonghwa stood as if in a trance, nodding his head, only for you to guide him where less tables were. He pulled you close once again, slowly swaying to the beat of his fluttering heart or the music, he wasn’t sure. Time and time again he’d asked himself, in his time with you, how could he have been so lucky to meet you. To somehow hold your attention for long enough to make you see him, care for him. For you to want him to be this close to you. He hoped you’d allow him to be forever.

He twirled you around and waited for you to land back in his arms, feeling as dizzy as he often was when you found yourself there.

“Thank you,” you whispered, cheek resting against his chest.

“Please, don’t thank me, my angel,” he whispered back, freezing time.

The first time he’d called you angel, your heart had leapt from you. And yet, it wasn’t then and there, but back in your dreams. You didn’t know whether you were breathing still, all you knew was that when you looked up, Seonghwa was already searching for your eyes.

“Say that again,” your voice was barely above a whisper, just as fragile as a piece of glass.

“My angel,” his was too, broken by emotion and you had a feeling you knew just why. Seonghwa’s hands came to cup your cheeks, eyes drinking you in as if it were the first time. Perhaps it was, because you were looking at him like you finally found who you had been looking for. Like you could finally see the face that had populated your dreams.

“It’s you,” it sounded crazy, absolutely mad to say something like that, but when he nodded back with unshed tears in his eyes, you knew. Seonghwa’s arms were quick to hug you to him once more, holding close like he never had before. Both your figures were shaken by sobs, but your hearts were being mended. Behind your eyelids, scenes of you through time played; all your dreams finally making sense as memories of past lives spent together, consumed by a love so fierce that it found you in every life.

“I can’t believe I found you again,” Seonghwa whispered as your sobs died down. He was still holding you, in the middle of the cafè while the music played, as if he were afraid you’d vanish.

“I can,” you sniffled. “I dreamed of you for so long, I should’ve known…”

“I thought I was going out of my mind,” his watery laugh pulled a chuckle out of you. “I longed for the day I’d see you again.”The record had gone quieter, maybe because there was only so little you could focus on when you finally were in the arms of your soulmate. There was no need for words, not now. Not when you could feel the love pouring out of your fingertips. Not when Seonghwa was placing kisses on the tears running down your cheeks, your temples, your forehead, your lips. Not when his whispered my angel made up for the time you’d spent apart. All this running around in circles every night, chasing after figments of what you thought could only be your imagination had finally brought him to you. You both laughed at destiny for making you dream for so long, secure in the newfound conviction that you’d be together no matter where it brought you.

#cromernet #park seonghwa #park seonghwa fluff #ateez park seonghwa #park seonghwa au #park seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x y/n #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa imagines #ateez seonghwa #park seonghwa imagine #ateez seonghwa fluff #park seonghwa ateez #ateez seonghwa x reader #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez fluff

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