#fic: duty is the death of love | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

madame-fear · 4 months ago

Note

Okay but like am I the only one that thrives on angst?? Because imagine if Jacaerys and his young wife, who he by the way only married for the support of The Arryns, had marriage problems because there’s always been tension between her and Baela (just an idea, I love my Baela bc she’s my girl!!) as Jacaerys was supposed to be married to her instead..and might I mention that reader was shipped off to Dragonstone by herself to give birth to her son and she’s been alone and scared all the time, until she’s brought back to Kingslanding after her mother in-law, Queen Rhaenyra, finally claimed back the throne with a peace treaty between the Hightowers. His wife is so so shy and alone because she’s only used to being with their baby, and Jacaerys is just absolutely worried for her because he hasn’t visited her at all due to his duties as heir and it just so happens that his wife thinks he hates herr 💔💔 (this was a bit long..but idk)

𐙚 𝐐𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐀 𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍.

ೀ amira speaks.ᐟ : the so awaited Arryn reader fic is here !! Hope it was what you expected, and overall enjoy it! Thought this was longer than 3.6k words! 😭🤲💗 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : ∿ request above! ˗ˏˋ ꒰ word count : 3.6k

˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : angst to fluff. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : Jacaerys Velaryon x Arryn!Wife!Reader.

After many years of a long, nearly never ending war, it had finally subsided— bringing peace for once and for all. It had been the same war that provoked the death of innocent people, and the one responsible for your marriage with Prince Jacaerys, as well.

A rather complex marriage, you’d say it was— though, it was an engagement that could only be expected. Betrothals and marriages had never been done for the sake of genuine love, but only for the sake of allies & tying deeper bonds between the Houses; helplessly falling in forced, unhappy marriages.

There had been little to no time for any of you two to establish some sort of proper relationships between each other. It worked as an engagement with the sole purpose of gaining support from House Arryn amidst the war with the Greens. “A betrothal, in exchange for support”, and it served with it’s purpose as it should in a way, you guessed.

Except, for the looming tension that came along your marriage.

Jace’s previous betrothal to Lady Baela, firstborn daughter of the Rogue Prince, wasn’t unbeknownst to you; a betrothal that had to be broken off when you appeared in the picture, as the support from the Arryns would be placed as number one priority— with Jacaerys marrying you as the one and only condition for yet another ally. It was inconvenient, but very much needed.

The growing tension between you and his previous betrothed notoriously loomed in the air as soon as you both met one another— being presented with little to no words from Baela, and most of the time, all the endless attempts you did in order to establish a good relationship with her, were dismissed; thrown into the wind, as you were given a cold stare, with no words said... Being walked right past, left ignored.

Often times, you could feel her contemptuous stare fixed on you, each time you were sat next to Jacaerys.

Solitude had leisurely grown as a frequent monster lurking in your surroundings. “I can’t do anything about it, I can’t act as an intermediary to your relationship.” was the strict response given to you by your future Lord Husband, when speaking your mind regarding how the Lady Baela gave you a cold shoulder, despite the constant friendliness you had to offer.

Jacaerys didn’t seem to care much at all. You swore that the eldest Velaryon prince was as indifferent towards you, as his previous betrothed was— maybe, he even resented you for breaking off his already arranged betrothal. And you couldn’t say you didnt understand the situation, however.

Years of having known, trusted, each other, growing by each other’s side... Having their betrothal arranged for years— you could even silently observe the way in which they gazed at each other, occasionally. All of that had only been for it to turn into ash & dust when the time to seek support from allies had come.

But what other choice did you have, except none at all? Had you any blame, at all? Were you truly the one at fault? The growing solitude and the hefty weight of guilt was nearly asphyxiating. You felt desperately trapped in an escapeless labyrinth, being fully aware of how you had no one at all to release each one of your thoughts to— with your betrothed often giving you a cold shoulder as well, or simply, being far too engaged in his duties. Each private conversation, managed to quickly be dismissed; you had been forced to be kept to yourself, in a way.

All for a war between kin. All for the sake of allies. And you, right in the middle of it all.

Things hadn’t grown to become any better at all by the time you fell pregnant with your first child— with his child. Much less considering it was all still under the looming tension of war felt in the atmosphere.

Dragonstone had become your temporary home; one you had been sent to all by yourself, still being with child. Taking proper care of yourself throughout your pregnancy had been a difficult task, considering how the general situation provoked a constant state of fright and concern to you. Alone, with no one else to rely on; finding mere solace in talking to yourself... Or, rather, talking quietly to your unborn child.

It wasn’t exactly the healthiest thing for the fragile conditions you were mentally experiencing— it simply deepened that inner void, those bitter feelings of loneliness; poisoning you slowly with every quiet tear you dropped late at night in your chambers, after holding on to the knot that formed on your throat during the day.

The rocky castle had been the same place where you had birthed your child— a healthy boy, much to your fortune. Something that the Gods had finally graced you with. And that grace was, providing an heir for your husband... Though, you had given birth to your babe in the mere company of a few maids, and maesters. Your own mother-in-law couldn’t be there by your side, as much as she deeply desired to. Your own husband, with his duties as Rhaenyra’s heir, couldn’t assist, either— and much less, your own blood.

The Gods have a strange way of treating you, you thought. Blessing you with an heir to your husband, and, simultaneously, remaining to provide you with solitude throughout the entire way.

Not long passed after you gave birth, that war had finally subsided, moving from Dragonstone to King’s Landing with a small babe in your arms. Queen Rhaenyra had made peace treaty with the Greens, allowing her to claim her birthright, the Iron Throne, for once and for all— bringing a wave of relief, tossing aside a hefty weight burdening you.

Of course, just one small bit of a burdening weight had been removed from your life, and you dared to say, it was the most important heaviness lingering on the atmosphere— yet, you still had your own issues to solve. Moving all by yourself with a small baby boy towards the Red Keep wasn’t an easy task either, it simply stirred the occasional anxiety you suffered, along with bitter loneliness.

Those series of events happened in, what you considered, to be such a short time lapse— barely allowing you to process your wedding ceremony, the looming tension between you and his previous betrothed, not being able to have properly bonded with your husband as you married for mere alliances, having very little bonding with your mother-in-law, living in a whole different place from one day to another, having a babe, and moving once again this time with your child after the peace treaty...

... And you could keep naming each, and every single one of the little things that provoked an asphyxiating knot on your throat; one you had to bitterly swallow and keep to yourself. How could you not be overwhelmed with the circumstances?

You had grown used to being alone, with only the company of your little boy to keep your sanity hanging from a fragile, fraying thread. You briefly, and very feebly managed to interact with the rest of the members of House Targaryen— but you never throughoutly engaged in a deeper bond with them, or were often seen walking around the large halls, once the war had finished and you moved to the Red Keep.

The war had passed immediatly after the peace treaty with the Hightowers. No usurper on the Throne, no more dead men and innocent people— and all the burden you carried behind of you now, was that of the lurking solitude haunting you. It was just your small, sweet boy and you to spend time together; the one whom you found some warmth, despite still being practically a babe. Though, you couldn’t occasionally help but long for the company of anyone else from your new family.

At the present moment, you spent time on your private chambers. your little boy rested on your lap, as you quietly sat on the ground. On his hand, was a dragon wooden toy which he played with— making some cooing sounds. He had been your only companion for the moment, managing to spare you from any feelings of loneliness from the moment you had learned you were with child, being the one you often spoke to despite not receiving back an answer.

A faint grin graced your lips, with your hand gently caressing the back of his hair. You craned your head gently, releasing a soft chuckle at the sight of your boy engaged into his own world. You both were almost headed to sleep, but you preferred to spend some more time together— enjoying the quietness of the night, and the peace that came along.

The stillness looming in the atmosphere had been interrupted by a soft knock sounding twice against the wooden doors of your chambers. Raising your sight curiously as your boy remained playing in your lap with the wooden dragon toy. Not often having many visitors at the late hours of the night, you softly muttered “Come in.”

The door was gently swayed, revealing to be your Husband the one who knocked, closing the door behind him— which, it wasn’t a common occurence, for him to visit you in your chambers. The constant duties of the eldest Velaryon prince, on his role of being his mother’s heir to the Throne, were more than time-consuming; occupying the entirety of his attention.

But of course, with you being his wife, mother of his son, having shared little to nothing — plus having married only for alliances — and having some previous marriage problems regarding his broken betrothal, could only burden his thoughts. You had done an important effort to be a proper wife to him, one that couldn’t pass unnoticed.

You married to support what his mother fought for, you managed the notorious tension there was between you and his previous betrothed— you had given him a son, birthing all by yourself, and moved to Dragonstone, and then the Red Keep all by yourself, as well; only for him to spend his days focused on what was asked of him, leaving little time to even pay you and your baby son a short visit.

Guilt was overriding him in a constant, haunting manner. It was only natural for Jacaerys to be consumed by his preoccupied feelings towards you. Perhaps, you didn’t often engage or bond together in a convenient way, and you might’ve had troubles before when it came to discussing about your uneasy relationship with Lady Baela— but that didn’t mean he didn’t love you, much less notice your strenght in every sense.

It was only fair to show his appreciation, and his concern for your wellbeing.

“Hope I’m not troubling both of you with my presence?” Jace said in a lighthearted manner, with a faint grin appearing on his rosy lips, tilting his head briefly. His presence had been quite a surprise for you, and that expressed on the looks in your features, along with some tension in the air— not being used to being visited by Rhaenyra’s heir, your husband. Which, if anything, it deepened the looming guilt on him.

You shook your head gently, looking down at your son timidly, using your index finger to delicately caress him on his cheek. “Not at all, we were spending some time before heading to sleep.” you muttered in response. “Is anything the matter? Has something happened?” you inquired with slight concern, furrowing your eyebrows, lifting your gaze once again, staring into his dark coffee eyes. The innocence on your features were most beloved by him, managing to properly appreciate them as, now, it was just the two of you in the room— no duties in between, no one else to bother you.

Jacaerys shook his head. “Nothing’s the matter, fortunately.” he answered, with a tone of relief. His lips frowned for a split second, thoroughly processing his words before continuing. “I... Simply wished to pay you, and our son, a visit— as I haven’t been able to do so lately with my duties as my mother’s heir.” his eyes lingered on the ground shyly, before returning to stare at your own. “I wanted to know if you were doing alright as well, and if you felt comfortable around, of course.”

The expressions on your face softened leisurely. “Oh,” your lips partly opened in surprise, stuttering for a moment, before closing them rather quickly. You had been momentarily taken aback by his unexpected statement, as you had never shared a private moment like this with him before. It had been a situation you would have never guessed you would ever experience, yet, here you were— and it felt as if the world surrounding you stopped for a second.

You swallowed thickly, looking down over your boy, who stared at his father, and then at you. “Keep playing with your toys, my love. I will be right back.” pressing a smooch on your son’s forehead, you carefully moved him so he would sit on the rug decorating the room beneath both of you. A wide, almost toothless smile graced his features, before continuing to play with his own toys as you stood, and approached Jace.

It was almost admirable how much of a dedicated, loving mother you were, Jace thought to himself, staring at the scene— with a grin helplessly increasing on the corner of his lips. Your hands turned into fists, meekly fidgeting with the fabric of your dress. You almost couldn’t stare at him in the eyes, allowing him to notice as well a growing fluster in your cheeks.

“I-I’m... Doing quite alright.” the words came off whispered, and stuttered, from your lips, “We have been managing together all this time, after the war.” you mentioned, staring at your boy — who was absorbed into his own innocent world — before returning to stare at Jacaerys. “Thank you... For asking.” the eldest Velaryon smiled sweetly at you, noticing how you very faintly stared at him in the eyes.

“I’m quite relieved to hear so.” he replied back, in a low, casual tone, continuing to offer a kind grin to you as his eyes guided themselves towards his baby boy playing in the background. Brief moments of awkward silence passed, with a palpable tension in the atmosphere.

You had been given little time — to not say , none at all — to bond with each other, before your wedding ceremony. You knew nothing about one another, and it could only be expected that you would be awkward in each other’s presence. But now that the war had ended, the possibility of engaging in a proper, sweet manner with each other was now given. You could softly hear Jace take a deep breath, before continuing to talk with you.

“I came to visit you to offer my apologies, as well.” furrowing your eyebrows, your stare darted at his own— which lingered on the ground, noticing a rosy taint beginning to cover his cheeks. “What for?” it was a rather innocent ask, or at least, Jace considered it to be that way. With a lingering guilt that weighed constantly on him, offering his apologies felt very little with everything he actually owed you, after all the things you had done for him.

The heir nibbled on his lower lip for a moment, allowing himself to properly process in words each and every single little thing he had to thank you, and apologise for. “For many things, I dare to say.” he scoffed in a teasing way, provoking a frowny grin to grow upon your lips, as you kept delicately fidgeting with the fabric of your dress in a discreet manner. “One of the things I would like to apologise for the most, is for... Not simply not visiting you, and our baby son due to my duties as heir— but for having given you a cold shoulder all this time, in a way.”

Your expressions began softening, not uttering a single word to allow him to continue. The looks on your face were almost puzzling to him, as it contained several emotions— all mostly ranging from surprise, to a... relieved one. But mostly, a shyly relieved look began expressing itself all across your features. “I never expressed to you my admiration for your strength and courage. Much less, I have given you my gratitude for marrying me and giving me an heir, all in order to gain new allies amidst war.”

“You have done everything by yourself. Moved to Dragonstone alone, birthed alone, and moved to the Red Keep after the peace treaty all by yourself, with our boy. I often scorn myself for not having done the slightest effort of accompanying you.” it was true. All this time, you had grown to be used only to the presence of your little child offering you solace, and company.

Hearing his words shed a light of understanding to the implicances of war when it came to the perspective— after all, being heir to the Throne is not easy at all, much less when your birthright is usurped. But for Jace, being an heir occupied with his duties, before and after war, was no excuse to give offer you a piece of his genuine love and admiration. If anything, he resented himself for not having visited you earlier.

“There hasn’t been a single moment where I haven’t thought about you, or haven’t grown any more preoccupied. And I’m sorry for not having shown it earlier, when I should have. Your efforts have never passed unnoticed.”

A gentle sigh spurred from you, nibbling shyly on your lower lip, with your gaze meekly darting towards the ground. Hearing such statement coming from him felt almost surreal, considering each moment you spent alone, wondering to yourself if your husband felt mere disdain towards you after breaking off his previous betrothal to Lady Baela. You had to process the moment for several seconds, leaving a few seconds of silence to hang in the air until you gave your response, but you couldn’t deny that a part of you was satisfied to know his true thoughts about you.

“I would’ve thought you... Resented me for breaking off your betrothal, and occupying the place of Lady Baela.” you muttered timidly, maintaining your eyes gazing at the floor. His eyes widened faintly in surprise. Gods, your words didn’t help with the intensely growing guilt-feelings he suffered, almost as if your statement sharply stabbed him in the heart— how could he ever resent you?

You had nothing to do with anything. You simply did your required duties, what was asked of you.

Jace stood silent for a moment, “How could I ever resent you?” he began, a certain desperation, and disbelief, vibrating on his tone upon hearing your statement. It almost shattered him, knowing you thought that— and all because his mind was consumed in war strategies and responsibilities as heir. The tip of his index finger placed itself on your underchin, delicately — yet firmly — lifting your face so you would stare at each other.

His dark coffee eyes stared profoundly into your own, “I could never resent you for something that was not your choice, much less after all the efforts you did.” you swore you could feel a knot beginning to form on your throat, from both the overwhelming sensation of having thought all this time that Jacaerys disdained you, and from content. “The idea of breaking off my betrothal to Lady Baela and become used to your presence for alliances might have been complicated initially, but I could never resent you for it.”

“Quite the contrary, I have grown to love and silently admire you.” both his hands had gone to cup your cheeks affectionately, taking the moments of quietness to admire every inch of your features. That was, before his arms rapidly embraced themselves around you, tightly wrapping you into a hug. One of his hands went to the back of your head, interwining his fingers in between your hair, as his other hand softly moved up and down, caressing your back; nuzzling the tip of his nose against your hair in a discreet manner— finding comfort in your sweet scent.

For a moment, you stood there, being firmly hugged by Jace, as you leisurely processed the — quite abrupt — situation. Your eyes had widened slightly in surprise, only to feel your body relaxing a few seconds after the eldest Velaryon held you in the warmth of his arms, slowly giving into the embrace. Your arms delicately wrapped themselves around his own body, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. A wide range of emotions came afloat at the moment, but all you could feel, was a gleeful sensation of relief.

What you had so longed for, had been finally given in your life— to seek and find comfort in your husband.

“All I can only do, is constantly cherish the lucky fact of your existence, I have never felt a single ounce of resentment, or hatred.” he muttered, continuing to nuzzle his nose against your hair in a loving manner, before firmly pressing his lips against your temple for several seconds. “I hope you can forgive me, and know that I’ll be visiting and spending time with both of you more often— because I adore you, immensely.”

The ghost of a soft, shy grin began growing on the corner of your lips. You knew everything would be alright, from now on— it would all be less dreadful, and less lonely, knowing that your husband would now be accompanying you in a proper manner.

The Gods did have a strange way of treating you, but all for an ultimate good.

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#彡 ꒰ ✒ amira writes ; jacaerys velaryon.── ꒱#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys x you #jacaerys x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x you #hotd imagine

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subbmissivesuccubus · 1 year ago

Text

Breeding – Gyomei X Fem Reader.

Will slowly be releasing my Kinktober fics hehe. Of course, if you don't want to wait and would like to read all of them, check out my Patreon! (link in bio) they are very good and very very spicy <3

Summary : You and Gyomei try for a baby. That's it. That's the fic.

You gulped as you tried to not let your nerves effect you but failing as you jittered on your bed. Every single noise that came from within your house made you jump before you realised it was nothing, and definitely not the person you were waiting for.

You knew it was only a matter of time before your husband showed up, the man always punctual and never negotiating coming home to his wife. It was a bit odd, of course, having to wait for your husband to come home when the sun rose, but you had quickly gotten used to waking up early. Afterall, how could you sleep when your lover was out there, fighting for his life everyday to slaughter man-eating demons?

Your routine with the man was simple. He’d go out at night to do his duty and come back when the sun rose, tired but proud of a successful day of slaying demons. And you couldn’t be prouder to be called his wife. The first thing you’d both do when he arrives home is fill his belly with some nice, warm and comforting food before he took you in his arms and slept, recovering from the exhaustion of a long night. And of course, if you’re feeling particularly needy, he’d make love to you before getting some shut eye, your husband often just as desperate for you as you are for him.

But tonight was different.

Tonight, you were not waiting for him with warm food and the promise of good sleep.

Not yet anyway.

You jumped as you heard the telltale sound of your door unlocking just as the sun started to rise.

Never a minute late.

Familiar footsteps padded through the house, each stomp making your body grow hotter. You heard him call out for you; the man clearly confused as to why you didn’t greet him as you usually did. You responded back to him by letting him know you were in the bedroom. As his footsteps got closer, your body grew hotter and hotter and you couldn’t help but jump as the door to the room opened.

Your husband walked in, tall and handsome and oh so muscular, looking adorable with the slight confused expression on his face. “Darling?” he called out.

“H-How was work today?” you asked, wanting to make sure he was alright first.

“It was fine.” Gyomei said, “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Not even a scratch.”

You let out a sigh of relief. You knew Gyomei was an incredibly strong man but even he wasn’t immune to injury or even death.

“What’s going on, my love?”

“Well, um…” you said, feeling incredibly shy once more as the attention was brought back onto you, “I…wanted to talk to you about something…”

“Yes?” Gyomei asked, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

“It’s about…what you said yesterday…”

Gyomei was about to fall asleep, his face resting on your chest as you spoke to him, your voice often comforting him and lulling him into slumber. You were telling him random stories about what you did during the day, talking about a particular story where you were playing with the neighbourhood kids. Right before he was about to fall asleep, arms wrapped tightly around you, you heard Gyomei whisper something:

“I want…a baby…”

“You…You said you wanted a baby.” You reminded, feeling your ears turn red, “and- well- I’d like one too.”

“Oh.” Gyomei said, his hesitation making your blood run cold. Did you misunderstand? Or maybe he thought about it and decided he actually didn’t want kids. Or-

The man brought a hand upto his face and you felt your anxiety melt away as he tried to hide his blushing face but failing to cover up his red ears.

“You didn’t say anything so I thought that you didn’t want to talk about it…” he confessed, “But you’re right. I want to have kids with you.”

You gulped, blushing like a virgin. This was ridiculous! You were married to this man for so long and yet, he still makes you feel like a teenager whose crush smiled in her direction.

“Is that why you were waiting for me here?” Gyomei asked, a hint of a smile on his face, “You want us to get started right away?”

“Well- that’s- um-“ you sputtered, fanning your blushing face, “If you’re not too tired- oh!”

You gasped as Gyomei suddenly grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed, making you fall back onto the mattress. You squealed as your husband crawled onto the bed as well, his tall, hulking figure towering over you. He had already taken off his haori and was just in his uniform which he knew you found attractive on him.

“I can go on for hours more, my love.” He said, a hand coming up to thumb at your lips, “question is, can you?”

~~~~~

“Mmph- ah- fuck- ah!”

Gyomei growled as he lifted his head from where he was buried between your legs, his lips wet from your juices. “Don’t muffle your moans.” He ordered.

“B-But I’m so loud-“ you whined, pushing your hand away from your mouth.

“I know. Be loud for me.”

With that, he lowered his head again, making your squeal as his hot tongue made contact with your pussy once more. Two fingers stuffed inside your dripping hole, he gently fingered you open, preparing you to take his cock. Even after all these years, Gyomei refused to fuck you unless he gave you can orgasm beforehand and making sure your body could take his girth with the least amount of pain. Despite you telling him that you had gotten used to his size, he refused to change the routine and hey, why would you ever complain about that?

He moaned as he drank you up, your taste like a drug to him. Not having the gift of sight enhanced Gyomei’s other senses which meant your taste, your scent, your moans and the feeling of your hot cunt against his mouth were all the more addicting. Shaking his head from side to side, his ran his tongue all over your pussy before settling on your clit.

“Ah! Honey- oh!” you moaned out loud, a hand coming down to grab his hair. You shivered as you felt him growl against you, his lips sealing around your clit before giving it a harsh suck. “Oh fuck- ah- gonna- gonna cum!” you announced, voice high pitched and whiney as he ate you out like you were a delicious meal, his fingers curling just right and teasing your g-spot.

“Cum for me, my love.” Gyomei said, tongue flicking rapidly over your clit, “Cum in my mouth~”

“Ah- yes- yes- oh- cumming!”

With a shout, you climaxed, back arching and toes curling as your orgasm washed over you. Your thighs clamped around Gyomei’s head which the man loved, still eating you out as you rode your orgasm on his fingers and tongue. The room was filled with moans and the sound of slobbering, his cock dripping in his pants as he heart your sweet cries of ‘yes’ and ‘more-‘. Your orgasm tasted like nectar and the sharp pain of you pulling at his hair was addicting. Gyomei truly loved eating you out and he’d do it for hours if you’d let him.

Eventually, you came down from your high, your back colliding with the mattress once more and your legs relaxing. You pushed at Gyomei’s head, a silent plea for him to stop mouthing at your pussy, the man still licking up your juices and thrusting his fingers. With another kiss to your clit, he slowly pulled himself away from your cunt, sitting on his knees and his fingers slowly pulled out of you. You blushed heavily at the squelching sound, your cunt so unbelievably wet that you knew you were staining the sheets.

But your pussy somehow grew wetter when you saw your husbands bulge throb against his pants. Gyomei had already taken his shirt off beforehand, right after he had stripped you naked, and was only clad in his baggy pants that didn’t do nearly enough to hide his erection. You gulped down your drool as you stared, your pussy throbbing for him and your womb aching for his seed.

Gyomei didn’t need his sight to know that you were staring, the man smiling as his hands found their way to his belt. “Are you ready, my love?” he asked as he started to undo the material, groaning as he grew more excited, “Ready for me to put a baby in you?”

“Yes-“ you said with no hesitation, “I’m ready- I need you-“

“And you’ll have me.” Gyomei said, ripping his belt off and tossing it aside before he started to unbutton his pants, “You’ll have all of me.”

You couldn’t help but slide a hand down your body to lightly pat at your pussy, watching as Gyomei stripped completely. He slid his pants and underwear down together and you started to drool as his dick popped out. A long and girthy cock with delicious veins that you loved to trace with your tongue and a pair of heavy, full balls that you always wanted to be drained inside you.

Once he was completely naked, he grabbed you by the back of your thighs and pushed up, pressing your legs against your chest and folding you to his desire. You squeaked at the embarrassing position; your puffy cunt even more exposed that before as he caught you in a mating press.

“Ready?” Gyomei asked, bringing one hand to the base of his cock to slap his dick against your cunt, making the both of you moan from the contact. He started to rub his cock up and down your slit, gliding it between your pussy folds with no resistance, his member getting coated in your juices.

“I’m ready. I’m so ready.” You said, not even caring about how desperate you sounded, “Fuck me- breed me, my Darling.”

Gyomei smiled before he pressed the head of his member against your hole, teasing it a bit before he slowly started pushing in. You whined, tossing your head back against the pillow as you felt the familiar burn of Gyomei stretching your pussy, bullying his way inside you. Your wetness helped as his cockhead popped inside you, already taking your breath away.

Gyomei groaned as he felt your cunt squeeze him, the man never getting tired of this feeling as he continued to push and push and push, burying inch after inch into your sweet pussy. His hand left his dick to once again, press your leg against your chest, keeping you nice and folded for his cock to reach as deep inside you as it could.

Both of you moaned as he finally bottomed out, the man so long and fat that you felt like you couldn’t breathe. His cock always took your breath away- always rendered you speechless. Gyomei was in no better position, your pussy squeezing his dick like a vice and no doubt, he’d have to fight against your hot, velvety walls if he wanted to fuck you silly.

And he was going to fuck you silly.

Making sure you were ready, he used his hold on your legs and leverage as he slowly pulled out before slamming back in, making you scream. The man was immediately kissing your cervix, his cock so, so deep inside you it made your head spin. Again and again and again- Gyomei pulled out and thrust back in, each time getting smoother as your bodies got used to each other.

“Fuck- fuck- yes!” you moaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the sensation of your husband fucking you open on his fat cock, “So good- faster darling-“

“As you wish, my love.” Gyomei said, obeying you as he picked up the pace. He grit his teeth as he set a fast rhythm, fucking his cock deep inside you, your wet pussy feeling heavenly against him. He always wanted to have children with you but never found the appropriate time to bring it up. With his past as someone who looked after kids, he still had the desire for a big, happy family. If you were willing, he was ready to breed you over and over and over again, ready and eager to have multiple children with you.

His balls clapped against your pussy, the impact making you tighten around him. Your moans were music to his ears, your fingers digging into the skin on his forearms barely noticeable in comparison to the feeling of your cunt. You babbled out sweet nothings, cries and pleas for more along with words of love for your husband and Gyomei wondered how he got so lucky.

“Oh yes- so big- Darling- so good!” you squealed, toes curling as his cock fucked you mercilessly, the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air and making you dizzy. The intimacy and love you felt from Gyomei whenever you made love or even fucked like animals made your heart swell. Seeing him above you, sweat marring his handsome face and his sculpted, strong body holding you down as he fucked you- his abs contracting each time he thrust inside you- his strong thighs flexing as he pounded your pussy- the veins on his arms as he pressed your legs down- everything about Gyomei was a work of art and you’d never understand how you got so lucky to be his.

Neither of you paid attention to the time as you continued to fuck with one intention only. Maybe it was half an hour maybe it was two hours- but the both of you reached the edge simultaneously.

“D-Darling-“ you moaned out, voice horse from all the screaming and moaning, “I-I’m close-“

“Me too, my love.” Gyomei groaned out, a deep moan leaving his lips which made your pussy gush, “Fuck-“

Ah, you loved it when you got Gyomei to curse.

“Together-“ you begged, eyebrows furrowed as you watched his cock continue to slam into you, “Let’s cum together!”

Gyomei nodded, putting more force behind his thrusting as he reached as deep as he could go, the familiar knot on his abdomen threatening to break. “Be a good wife and get pregnant for me, ok?”

“Mmhmm!” you hummed, nodding enthusiastically as he picked up the pace, going even faster than before, “P-Put a baby in me, Gyomei! K-knock me up!”

“Anything for you.”

The room was filled with the filthy noise of the two of you desperately fucking, getting each other to reach their climax. His balls slapped against you, his sweat mixing with your own, your bodies craving for release. And finally, finally- you got it.

The two of you moaned as you both climaxed together, the sensation heavenly. You gasped and whined and mewled as your cunt gushed, cumming all around Gyomei’s cock. Your pleasure was fueled by the sensation of your husband unloading inside you, his balls clenching as he pumped rope after rope of his seed deep inside you, flooding your womb with his cum. He held you down, keeping you in place as he milked himself of every drop. He was getting you pregnant, that’s for sure.

Gyomei tossed his head back as he pushed his hips flush against yours, growls of pleasure leaving his lips and pleasure overtook him. His body shivered and his muscles tensed, moaning as your pussy throbbed around him, squeezing him dry which he was more than happy to oblige with. “That’s it- oh yeah- take my cum~” he panted out as he slowly rolled his hips, making sure to get his sperm deep inside you, not taking any chances.

Eventually, when both of you were done cumming and were brought back down to reality, Gyomei leaned down, cock still inside you and kissed you. You moaned and wrapped your arms around him, groaning against his lips as he gently let go of your legs, allowing you to stretch your muscles. But you simply wrapped your legs around his waist, making sure to keep him inside you as your lips danced against his.

“I love you.” He whispered against you as he broke away from you for a second before he kissed you again, tongue massaging your own. You kissed him back just as passionately, conveying your love for him with action rather than words, especially since Gyomei didn’t seem interested in pausing your makeout session even if it was to hear you say you love him.

But you did love him. So very much.

And you figured you could enjoy this moment as the second he allows you to breathe, you’re going to ask him for another round and another load of cum.

#subby writes #kimetsu no yaiba smut #demon slayer smut #kinktober #gyomei smut #himejima gyomei smut #himejima gyomei #kny gyomei #gyomei x reader #gyomei himejima #demon slayer gyomei

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rhaenyraslaena · 1 year ago

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Duty is the Death of Love Chapter IX

Jerusalem Beckons

Available Here: ao3

“I do not recognize these banners, Eulalia. Might you recognize them because you are the princess that is most properly trained in court etiquette and knowledge?” Marwan reining in his horse in approach to her side is accompanied by a snark laced voice and an inquiring brow raised with curiosity.

“They belong to Godfrey of Ibelin, one of the great knights of Jerusalem.” Though her plain garments of white cotton may disguise her identity as Eulalia of Bethlehem , the growth of annoyance against her features is curbed though she may wish to grant a slap against the skull of her cousin for the mocking tinged commentary. “His banners are very common at court, especially now if he’s made his return from France.”

An utterance of an Aramaic name derogatory in nature for a person of French descent follows with swiftness as Marawn has never held any drop of affection for the nobility of foreign descent that took occupation of the lands upon the creation of the kingdom.

#kingdom of heaven #kingdom of heaven 2005 #kingdom of heaven fanfiction #koh fanfiction #baldwin iv #baldwin iv of jerusalem #baldwin iv x oc #king baldwin iv x oc #penned by khadija #fic: duty is the death of love

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asykriel · 1 year ago

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Love is the Death of Duty - 13.

® do not repost or translate !

☆ Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Male! Targaryen OC

☆ Status: Ongoing

☆ Summary:

“He is half of my heart.”

War made monsters of them all, but it also brought the two second sons together in a flurry of death, love, deceit and delusion. The story of Aemond Targaryen and the eldest son of Daemon and Rhaenyra, Maegor Targaryen, second of his name.

☆ Warnings: Sexual content, explicit violence, dark themes, targcest etc.

☆ AO3 ☆ || ☆ Wattpad ☆

☆ CHAPTERS: (Prologue) / ( 1 ) / ( 2 ) / ( 3 ) / ( 4 ) / ( 5 ) / ( 6 ) / ( 7 ) / ( 8 ) / ( 9 ) / ( 10 ) / ( 11 ) / ( 12 ) / ( 13 ) / ( 14 ) / ( 15 ) / (16 from now on upcoming chaps only on- AO3 || Wattpad )

☆ Masterlist ☆ || ☆ Spotify Playlist ☆

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CHAPTER 13

The air is thick with an eerie stillness, broken only by the distant whisper of the wind. Before him lays the ruinous silhouette of a city shrouded in darkness. Twisted spires and crumbling walls seem to echo the weight of centuries past and desolation.

Moonlight casts an eerie glow upon the ruins, turning shadows into remnants of the forgotten. Maegor moves through the city, as though in a trance, drawn by whispers and an unseen force towards a destination he cannot fathom.

He walks until he finds himself inside a giant castle, standing in a vast hall, its walls adorned with tapestries that tell the stories of his family's history. He walks among the depictions of dragons and Targaryen conquerors, his footsteps echoing in the silence against the marble. But as he gazes upon the scenes, they warp and twist, coming alive with the sounds of battle cries and dragons roaring.

Maegor stops to stare in awe, mesmerized by the shadows of men and beasts alike, as they begin to dance against the ceiling.

"Help me!"

A cry from the dark gets his attention and Maegor forgets all about the tapestries in an instant, his legs carrying him forward until the hall shifts into a void of pitch black, nothing desciphrable, not even the ground he steps on.

Suddenly, amidst the darkness, the same Targaryen ancestors emerge looking like ghastly specters, standing still as Maegor walks in the middle of them. He recognizes Aegon the Conqueror, Rhaenys and Visenya, Maegor the Cruel, Jaehaerys I.

Then he stops as he realizes he starts passing by his own family when Viserys shows up before him. Next to his grandfather, Daemon, stands tall, his features a blend of that cunning charisma and danger, he knows so well. Beside him, his mother, Rhaenyra beacons with arms wide open, and he can feel the warmth coming from her. Then he sees all of his brothers smiling with the innocence of youth, the laughter of the youngest ones echoing in the emptiness around them.

But there is one figure that stands apart, his presence casting a shadow over the rest.

Aemond.

His one eye regards him with an intensity that Maegor cannot decipher. Their bond shreds through him. Aemond's gaze is full of yearning and love for his nephew, leaving him with a profound sense of longing.

"Qybor." Maegor calls out for him with no avail. The specter does not answer, instead, his uncle, along with the rest of the ghastly silhouettes, turn around, pointing at something.

A silver haired child. Standing in the dark with his back facing Maegor.

"You there, kid!" He calls out to the child, but he remains still.

Maegor moves towards him, placing his hands on the child's shoulders. He spins him around and lets go in an instant, taking a step back, startled at the realization. The same odd colored eyes, the same clothes he wore years ago.

The child is him.

A sinister cackle suddenly echoes through the dark and Maegor's child self starts trembling, running to hide behind the present Maegor, clinging to his side in fear as he buries his face into his clothes.

"Show yourself!" The Prince barks, one hand on the hilt of Nightbringer and the other, protectively covering the boy's ears.

Maegor Targaryen.

The same voice hisses, right in his ear, its tone a blend of mockery and malice.

The Prince turns around, unsheathing his sword to cut to whoever is behind him. But instead of slicing through flesh, the valyrian sword merely swishes through the air.

The darkness around them seems to become even darker, an abyss that seems to stretch infinitely in all directions, a sense of danger looming in the air.

A faceless figure emerges from the shadows, its form shifting and contorting, its features a swirl of indistinct shapes. Long black locks cascade down its shoulders like a shroud, framing a visage that remains obscured. The figure's presence is suffocating, filling Maegor with dread.

You are destined to be alone, Prince of nothing.

The bonds you hold so dear will crumble.

The entity chuckles at him, as it starts to circle around, black locks moving in the air like they have no weight.

The child falls to the ground on his knees, covering his eyes as he starts crying.

"Who are you!?" Maegor shouts in frustration, lunging after the figure with his sword drawn.

It disappears right before the blade touches it, causing the Prince to stagger as he desperately darts his eyes around, searching for the whatever demon came to mess with him.

"Please....help me."

Maegor turns his head towards his child self and widens his eyes in shock. The entity had its shadowy grasp on the boy, long clawed fingers dragging across his cheek. Flashes of Alliandra looming over him and doing the same gesture appear in Maegor's mind, gnawing at his sanity.

You will lose yourself.

The entity speaks, and its voice hits Maegor from all sides, multiplying into mocking echoes, clouding his head and driving him crazy.

The Prince snarls in anger and dashes forward. Before he can reach and save his younger self, dozens of hands, mangled and rotting extend out from the darkness, taking a hold of the boy and pulling him into the abyss as he screams in anguish while the shadowy figure cackles in delight.

"No!" Maegor shouts, but there's no use. The child vanishes and his screams die out, leaving him alone in the dark again.

Oh Maegor...No one can save you from the abyss.

The faceless figure whispers as it appears before the Prince again, its voice mocking a tone of pity.

Not even the one you hold closest to your heart.

"Who the fuck are you! What do you want?!" Maegor shouts again, furious and frustrated and confused. However the more he lets out his emotions bubble to the surface the more it amuses the entity.

Who am I? Who are you, Prince of nothing?

The grip on Nightbringer becomes painfully tight as he readies the sword again until something under his fingers begins to shift, the hilt of the blade starts moving, and the whole sword transforms into a large black snake, coiling around his forearm.

The snake strikes, piercing skin. Maegor winces in pain and throws it to the ground before it slithers away into the darkness. He staggers, just barely trying to stand on his feet as he retches, feeling the venom course through his body. It feels like deja vu, the same feeling when he got poisoned starts to unravel.

Maegor's fists clench, his teeth grit as he fights against the waves of doubt and despair that the entity plants in him with every word.

You will lose everything.

Relentlessly, the voice cackles, and amidst the torment, the specters of his family reappear, surrounding Maegor in a circle.

This time their faces are distorted, their expressions contorting into grotesque masks of despair and gore. Daemon glares at him, his dead expression full of hatred and disappointment, Rhaenyra's once warm smile turns into a cruel sneer, his brothers' eyes become hollow and empty.

You have failed them. You are unworthy of their love and trust.

The twisted images close in on him, their distorted voices blending into a cacophony of eerie whispers of accusation and laughter. The air becomes heavy with their presence, suffocating Maegor as he struggles to break free from their grasp.

Aemond's face remained unchanged, his eye fixed on Maegor, but this time with a cold gaze, full of distance, a gulf that seems impossible to bridge.

Maegor's heart races with panic, his chest constricting with a fear that he cannot escape. He tries to call out again, to demand answers, but his voice is drowned by the entity.

Even Aemond.

The taunting voice continues, its words a venomous hiss that pierces through his defenses.

How fragile the bond that hold you together. How easily it can be shattered by a single touch.

The figure's tone shifts, its mockery replaced by a syrupy sweetness.

He will slip through your fingers, just like water.

A clawed shadowy hand slices through the specter of Aemond and he vanishes like the mist in thin air.

"No! I won't let it happen!"

The darkness seems to press in on Maegor from all sides, suffocating him as the faceless entity's laughter fills the void from all sides. His chest heaves with a mix of fear and anger, his heart pounding like a drum.

"You won't break me!" Maegor's voice reverberates through the darkness, his words fueled by fury mixed with panic. He clenches his fists, the nails digging into his palms until they draw blood.

The faceless figure's form shifts and contorts circling around him, its cackles echoing through the void.

Oh, but you're already broken, dear Prince.

Broken by your doubts, your fears, and your desires.

"I won't let you control me demon!" Maegor sneers, panting as he tries to control his labored breathing.

The entity moves closer, its presence oppressive as it hovers just beyond the edge of his vision.

You can't escape your fate, no matter how hard you try.

The threads of destiny have been woven, and you are bound to unravel.

"Shut up!" Maegor's frustration is boiling over.

You cannot escape the darkness. It is a part of you.

His breath catches in his throat as he grapples with the implications of the entity's words. The darkness surrounding him feels painful, laden with his own doubts and insecurities. He fights to push them aside, to focus on the strength he knows resides within him.

"You're wrong!" He shouts in desperation as he starts running aimlessly through the abyss, trying to distance himself from the faceless figure.

Oh...am I?

A faint laughter echoes.

Maegor curses, falling to his knees from exertion. He heaves, trying to catch his breath until he feels something warm.

He lifts his hands, confused by the sickly wet sensation on his skin and clothes and jumps on his feet.

Blood. Pooling under his boots, pouring out of his palms and falling off his forehead, onto his face as he desperately tries to wipe it away.

The darkness seeps away revealing a vast and torn battlefield, red skies above him.

He gasps as he sees the mound of corpses under him. Mangled men and dragons alike, the banners of his house protruding between them as they pile up in the mountain he stands on top of.

Maegor trips and falls to the ground. Next to him, Aemond's lifeless body, stiff with a horrifying expression. Rotting and covered with flies and maggots.

"No more!"

In an instant, Maegor's eyes snap open as he lets out a scream. His body is drenched in cold sweat, tears flowing down his cheeks.

"My Prince! You have to lay still!" The urgent voices pierce through the haze of fear, and Maegor feels hands gripping his arms and legs, holding him down on the bed.

"No! Let go of me!" His voice rasps with a mixture of fear and desperation as he struggles against the restraints, his body writhing in an attempt to break free.

"Maegor! Get a hold of yourself!" He recognizes a familiar voice as a pair of strong hands grip the collar of his nightshirt pinning him against the bed.

His chest heaves with frantic breaths as he takes in his surroundings, his gaze darting around the dimly lit room. Familiar shapes start to form as his blurred vision gets cleared and he lets out a shaky sigh of relief as he recognizes his bedroom in Dragonstone and Daemon holding him firmly with a couple of maesters next to him. His father, looks down at him with concern etched across his features.

He's not trapped in that horrible nightmare anymore.

"Kepa..." Maegor's voice cracks, and his trembling hands reach out instinctively, seeking the comfort and safety of his father's embrace.

The Rogue Prince doesn't hesitate, wrapping his arms around his son and pulling him into a tight hug. His hand rubs soothing circles on Maegor's back, offering a sense of security and reassurance that helps calm the young Prince's racing heart.

"Shh ziry iksos sȳz, ñuha tresy. Ao gōntan sȳz." Daemon murmurs, his voice a soothing balm that helps chase away the lingering remnants of the nightmare. He never saw him like this, not even when he was a small child, so afraid and vulnerable, begging to be cradled and kept safe.

Something is off and he's not sure if it's all due to the side effects of the poison.

Maegor clings to his father, his breath hitching as he tries to regain control over his emotions. The vivid images of his dream and the sound of that faceless demon still haunt his mind, the grotesque visions and taunting cackle refusing to fade completely from his brain.

"Thank the gods you're awake." Rhaenyra exclaims full of relief as she hurries, coming inside his chambers followed by Jace and Luke as the maesters step out of the way to let her approach the bed.

The Prince nods tiredly, clearing his dry throat as his family flocks around his bed.

It slowly becomes suffocating, every touch, every pat on the back, every sound starts to overstimulate his senses. Maegor's head begins to spin, full of drowsiness and a knot in his neck forms. He feels sick to his stomach as he begins retching, reaching after the bowl on his nightstand. Nothing comes out though and he sinks back against the pillows in defeat.

"The Prince needs rest, he's still feeling the aftermaths of the poison, I'm afraid." The eldest maester speaks

Despite the support surrounding him, Maegor's attention is drawn to a figure standing in the back and waiting patiently in silence. A figure whose presence exudes a sense of calm and understanding, a figure who has always been there, no matter the circumstances.

Aemond.

As his eyes meet his uncle's, Aemond's expression instantly softens, a faint, warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips. A silent message-one of gratitude, of trust, of the profound comfort.

In that moment, everyone else fades away, all of them become background noise as his focus narrows to one person.

"Qybor." Maegor calls out for him, rushing to sit up and trying to get off the bed to reach his uncle. But his body protests and his legs give out in an instant. Daemon has to catch him before he falls to the floor, helping him to sit on the edge of the bed.

Testing the waters, Aemond can no longer restrain his patience and he tentatively takes a few steps forward, pretending to ignore the wary frown of his sister and the sharp eyes of his uncle watching his every move.

"I'm here." The Prince comforts his nephew, his hands itching to get closer, next to his bedside. But he cannot, not with all the eyes on him and the tension in the air.

"Clear the room. I wish to speak to my uncle, alone." Maegor orders without thinking and the maesters immediately oblige even if they throw curious looks before they leave. His mother throws him a look as if he struck her.

"My son, you need rest." Rhaenyra insists, trying to keep the tone of her voice soothing. But there's a pang of obvious jealousy in her heart seeing how Maegor chooses Aemond's company instead of everyone else in the room.

"Mother please. Just for a little while" The Prince looks at his mother with tired eyes, pleading to be indulged.

That's all it takes for Rhaenyra to give in. He's suffering, he's in pain and barely escaped from the grasps of death itself, she can indulge his request, it's her son after all.

"Very well." She sighs and ushers her other two sons out of the chamber, looking behind at her husband with a curious look when he stays behind. Daemon only gives her a silent hand gesture as he's left with his son and nephew. What's he planning?

If he would be in full health, Maegor would argue with his father but right now he has no energy left, neither in his body nor in his mind to put up a fight. So he let's Daemon be.

Aemond is tense, he feels uncomfortable with the presence of his uncle and his ever vigilant gaze, but he tries to drown it out and focus on Maegor instead as he comes next to his bedside. He would want nothing more than to hold his nephew's hand at least, but he knows he has to refrain from such tender gestures when he feels that cold glare on the back of his head.

"How long was I out of it?" Maegor questions, throwing a curious glance at his father who's leaning with his back against the wall, close to his son's bed.

"This would be the fourth night." His uncle sighs tiredly.

He's been sneaking around at night and losing sleep to be by Maegor's side ever since he flew from Sunspear here. Not sparing himself any second to let his guard down or his worries fade and now that he can finally breathe relieved that the younger Prince woke up, all the exhaustion came crashing onto him.

"Hells. What about that bitch" The Prince grits his teeth as he recalls how Alliandra poisoned him. That's the last thing he remembers before everything went dark, her smug smile of victory.

"You don't need to worry about her. She's long gone, torn to pieces."

Maegor's frustration simmers beneath the surface, the desire for vengeance burning within him. Yet, he understands the nature of justice and the cycle it follows. He clicks his tongue in acknowledgment, aware that retribution always has its own ways of manifesting.

His feet tap lightly against the floor as he tests his strength. Slowly, his mind also regains its sharpness, faster than his body it seems.

A sense of panic grips him again as his psyche recovers.

"Saagael! Where is he?!" He grips his uncle's arms as he tries to stand, frantically seeking out his dragon as he can't recall his fate through the jumble of memories before he fell unconscious.

"Calm down boy, he's fine. Come see for yourself." Daemon's calm voice interrupts, drawing their attention. He points to the window.

Slowly Maegor relaxes and with Aemond supporting him so he doesn't stumble, with uneasy steps, he slowly makes his way to the window overlooking the clifftop. Outside, under the moon's glow he instantly makes out the sleeping forms of both the Cannibal and Vhagar. The weight of his chest lightens instantly.

Sensing his rider, Saagael stirs from his slumber and snaps his eyes open, lifting his large head. He shakes off the sleep, the spines along his neck moving with every ripple of muscle as he fixes the window with his sapphire gaze. A low rumble of contentment escapes his throat, acknowledging the Prince.

Ever since his rider fell ill, the Cannibal refused to move or eat, threatening to kill all the dragon keepers that tried to urge him to scrap on something when they came to feed Vhagar. He stood watch, always looking up at the window in the tower. Waiting.

An unbreakable bond that defies physical distance, but not a surprising one, not for Daemon at least, familiar to his own unnatural connection to Caraxes.

Maegor smiles weakly and sighs in relief as Aemond's support helps him return to the bed, their steps in sync as they navigate the room.

"Sit down." Daemon command draws their attention, as he leans off the wall to come stand before the two young Princes.

Aemond raises an eyebrow, giving him a cautious look, but obeys, taking a seat on the edge of the bed next to Maegor.

"After Maegor is fully recovered I want you to return to King's Landing-"

"Prince Aemond saved my life, I won't have you kick him out." Maegor scowls at his father feeling his anger slightly flaring up, despite the fatigue and weakness in his body.

Daemon lifts a finger warning his son to be quiet.

"Let me finish, boy. You will accompany him since you have affairs to settle now, Prince of Dorne. And your uncle will vouch for your claim in front of the Queen and Hand of the King, if he was so generous to proclaim your rule himself. "

"What?" Maegor blinks.

The unexpected direction of the conversation leaves him bewildered. He turns his head to give his uncle a questioning look. Daemon retrieves a letter from his tunic's pocket, tossing it in his son's lap.

"Very well, I'll do it. And if someone comes forth to deny his claim?" Aemond doesn't hesitate. His latter question is obvious, both his mother and grandfather won't support this decision even if it's him who proclaimed it.

The Rogue Prince lets out an amused chuckle that fills the room.

"Well, you'll make sure that doesn't happen." Daemon throws them one more look, waving a dismissive hand in the air before he closes the door to the chambers behind him, leaving the two Princes alone.

He can allow it this time. Throw them both a little reward so that he's certain Aemond will keep his word.

Maegor finishes reading the letter and sits in silence. He doesn't know what to think or say. Uncertainty clouds his thoughts. He's grateful that he finally has a title over something given like his half brothers, but at the same time, with everything that happened he's not sure he wants it. Prince of Dorne, it doesn't sound that appealing.

"You've shed blood and sweat, managed to do what the Conqueror couldn't and now "the Seven Kingdoms" has a real meaning. I wanted to give it to you, because there's no one else more deserving than you, Maegor." Sensing his nephew's conflicting emotions, Aemond speaks first, clutching his hands with his own, now more relaxed to show his affection in the privacy of each other's company.

"For that I am grateful, uncle. I just don't know what to do with it." Maegor admits as he lifts his head to look at Aemond, sketching a faint smile.

"You don't have to do anything. Your vassals will rebuild Sunspear in your name and you don't have to make your seat in Old Palace if that's not your wish." Aemond's touch is gentle and comforting as he cups his nephew's face between his hands and leans in to plant a kiss on his forehead.

"I wasn't planning to. I've come to realize I really hate sand." Maegor chuckles, trying to crack a joke despite the drowsiness and weakness in his body. He rests his forehead against his uncle's shoulder as he pulls him into a warm embrace.

Eventually, his uncle stands up, ready to call it in for the night and Maegor's heart skips a beat.

"Rest now, love. You need to get back your strength." Aemond reluctantly lets go of him, ready to return to his guest chambers before Daemon returns and drags him there himself.

He will slip through your fingers, just like water.

Flashes of his night terror and the haunting image of his uncle's spectral form resurface, unsettling his thoughts.

"No! Don't go, please don't go!" Maegor's voice cracks as he lets out an unexpected shout, gripping Aemond's arm until his fingers dig into his skin. His heart is racing again and his breathing is labored.

The older Prince stops dead in his track, startled by his nephew's reaction. He turns back to Maegor at once, his concern outweighing his confusion and he doesn't hesitate to pull his nephew into a tight, comforting hug. He heard the maesters talking about how poisons can give you hallucinations, he just didn't imagine they would persist for so many days and only hopes they won't be permanent.

Aemond waits, his hold on Maegor unyielding until the panic subsides. He releases him just until he removes his boots and jacket before sliding under the covers next to his nephew, drawing him close.

Maegor buries his face in Aemond's embrace, his racing heart slowly finding its rhythm.

"Your father will have my head for this." The older Prince mutters with a smile at the corners of his mouth and buries his nose in the clump of unruly silver locks.

"You've managed to survive him just fine for four days without me." Maegor chuckles, closing his eyes.

Finally he can let his guard down and let the warmth and comfort engulf his painful body.

"Only because I wasn't in bed with his son." Aemond strokes along his shoulders, easing out the obvious tension gathered in his muscles.

"You've been in bed with me before. Just not under his roof." Maegor mumbles, letting out a yawn.

Exhaustion finally catches up with him as sleep pulls at his consciousness.

Aemond smiles, pulling the bed covers higher on both of them. Daemon can have his head if he wishes so. This is worth it.

"Sȳz bantis, ñuha zaldrīzes."

────────────────────────

Translations:

Kepa = Father

Shh ziry iksos sȳz, ñuha tresy = Shh, it's alright, my son

Ao gōntan sȳz = You did good

Qybor = Uncle

Sȳz bantis, ñuha zaldrīzes = Good night, my dragon

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raven-dor · 2 months ago

Text

when you light the candle

in which gwayne hightower finds love in the arms of the targaryen heir, rhaenyra’s daughter

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x targaryen!reader

WARNINGS: arranged marriage, allusion to slight nsfw, typical HOTD language, Aegon being a creep, fluff!!

WORD COUNT: 6.4k

AN: in this fic, viserys is dead and rhaenyra became queen (YAY) but her peaceful accession came with a price... also ages for gwayne and alicent are different because i thought it would be weird to have a huge disgusting age gap!!

“My dear-” Rhaenyra sighed.

“I understand my duty as heir, Mother, but that does not mean I cannot express my grievances.” Her daughter crossed her arms. “You cannot blame me for being hesitant. A Hightower, really?” Her face contorted with disgust. “It feels as if I am being condemned to death.”

“Y/N…” Rhaenyra fought the urge to laugh. She often forgot how alike she and her daughter were. “My darling girl, I am sorry, truly, but our kingdom needs stability, and this marriage will see to that. You must-”

“Like I said earlier,” Y/N snapped back, sitting down rather unladylike. “I understand, no need to explain it any further.”

“Yes well… for what it is worth, I have heard he is a rather kind man.” Rhaenyra scoffed, plucking a grape off the vine. “Shocking for a knight, I think.”

Y/N smiled to herself, staring into the distance. “I seem to remember one such knight.”

While her daughter may have resembled her in personality and stature, much like her brothers, Y/N was the spitting image of her father. “He was very kind, yes.” Rhaenyra sat beside the young woman, pushing a stray hair behind her ear gently. “And loving.” She whispered. “Your father loved you very much.”

Y/N nodded. “I know, Mother.” Holding her hand, she smiled. “He loved you just as much.”

Rhaenyra could not find it in herself to speak, simply nodding.

Y/N straightened her dress for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour, or at least that is what it felt like for Jacaerys, who was watching in amusement.

“I fear if you pull on your fabric anymore, it will fall off.”

She rolled her eyes, shoving her brother harshly. “When you are of age and put on display for all the eligible young ladies to gawk and stare at, tell me, dear brother, how calm and collected you feel then.”

“Nervous?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “It is showing, I must say.”

“For the entirety of the court to judge me for this ridiculous dress?” She jutted her hip, glaring. “Not in the slightest.”

He sighed, extending his arm for her to hold as the grand doors opened. He leaned over whispering in her ear comfortingly. “You’re a dragon, sister. Do not forget it.”

Taking a deep breath, she stood as straight as possible, smiling like she hadn’t just been spiraling. “Quite a lot of green in this crowd.” Y/N muttered, waving politely as she passed her subjects.

Jacaerys scoffed. “I expect you’ll be seeing much more in the coming weeks now that you’re marrying a Hightower.”

Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes, pinching his arm discreetly. He hissed, and she laughed as their mother watched from the high table, suppressing a grin. Bowing before their mother, step father, and the Dowager Queen, both tried to sneak a peek at her husband to be.

Y/N smiled as they stood upright. “Your Majesties.”

Alicent smiled half-heartedly. It was better than nothing, she supposed. Her brothers did not receive the same treatment, the smiles, the ‘good will’. The Dowager Queen had always had a soft spot for Y/N.

Why, she had no idea.

Taking their place beside their mother, Rhaenyra stood, addressing the crowd. “It was not long ago that I myself was in this position. Marriage is work, marriage is patience. Fortunately, my daughter seems to have much more patience than I.” Laughter fell over the crowd, and Rhaenyra gestured toward the Dowager Queen and her family that sat beside her. “Our houses have long been allies, and I am glad to continue that tradition with this union.” She raised her glass, smiling at her daughter as she spoke. “May their marriage be blessed!”

The crowd raised their glasses in unison, cheering for the Princess, who was smiling brightly, the very picture of nobility and duty. None of them knew the truth: how she really had no idea who she was marrying or what exactly she was getting into.

After what felt like minutes of applause, Y/N sat down, indulging herself in a rather full cup of mead. “My lady.” She turned around, her breath catching at the sight of the man in front of her.

He was quite tall, and handsome.

“I wanted to introduce myself.”

She smiled, setting her glass down. “You must be Lord Hightower.”

He nodded. “You are quite intuitive.”

Oh. Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Or observant. It does not take a mastermind to see the resemblance between you and your sister.”

That was the other thing she could not get passed. Yes, she was two and twenty, practically an old maid, but did that really mean she could get married off to a man only two years younger than her mother?

Lord Hightower did not look disheartened. If anything, her resistance to his ‘charm’ made him more intrigued. “I wonder, my lady, if I could interest you in a dance?”

Y/N smiled, annoyance all but rolling off of her shoulders. “I believe-”

Rhaenyra cut in, staring at her daughter with an intensity that rivaled her dragon. “I’m sure the Princess would be delighted to dance with you, Ser Gwayne.”

“Yes.” Y/N smiled tightly. “I would love to.”

Gwayne extended his hand, bowing his head, slightly. “My lady.”

She took his hand, following him to the dance floor. The rest of the nobility followed after, the waltz gently playing in the background as they moved around the room. Gwayne leaned down, whispering in her ear. “You seem rather upset with this arrangement, Princess.”

She tried not to scowl. “I am merely upset that yet another choice of my life has been decided for me.” Her eyes widening, realizing she had just told her husband to be something she had only told her family. “I-”

He smiled, shaking his head. “Do not apologize to me. If I were in your position, I would be equally as frustrated, perhaps more.” He whispered again. “I’m rather passionate about these sorts of things.”

The Princess raised an eyebrow, curious. “You are passionate about what exactly?”

“Anything you are.” He spun her around, laughing at her flushed cheeks. “I plan to be very supportive of my wife, unlike many of my peers.”

Her heart fluttered, but her face told a different story. “How… kind of you ser.”

Jace squinted his eyes, glaring at the Hightower man. “I don’t trust him, mother.”

Rhaenyra laughed, appreciative of her son’s protectiveness. “You must know Jacaerys, that I would never match your sister with a man I did not consider to be of high moral character.” She raised an eyebrow. “Do you believe me cruel?”

“No.” Jace shook his head, looking back to the man charming his sister. Or, trying to at the very least. “But still…”

He hadn’t even kissed her on the lips. It kept racing through her mind as she sat front and center at her reception. At their reception. He hadn’t even kissed her on the lips. She had been walked up the aisle by her brother, stood beside him, prepared herself, and he kissed her on the corner of her mouth.

What sort of kiss was that?

She was confused, unbelievably confused.

“Are you alright, Princess?” Gwayne whispered.

She nodded, not knowing whether to feel offended or relieved at his hesitation. “Fine.”

“Do you need a moment? Perhaps we can-”

Of course. He wanted to retire and start the bedding process. She almost scoffed in his face. “I need to find my mother.” She didn’t wait for a response, standing up and walking into the crowd. Her mother was fixed in the back of the room, talking with Baela and Jace. Y/N approached her mother, hooking her arm through hers. “May I talk to you?” She gestured toward the two teenagers. “Alone.”

Rhaenyra nodded slowly, shooing the young couple away. “Are you alright?”

“I-” Y/N pulled her mother to a secluded area of the hall. “He wants to retire.”

“He wants to-” The older woman’s face dawned with realization. “I see.”

Y/N nodded. “I-” She gulped, whispering. “I’m scared, Mother.”

Rhaenyra smiled, pulling her daughter into a tight embrace. “My sweet girl. Don’t be frightened. Truly.” She pulled away, placing a comforting hand on her cheek. “He will not touch you until you are ready, I am most certain of it.”

“Mother, he is a lord, like any other we’ve come to know. He will-”

“Do you trust me?” Rhaenyra whispered.

Y/N nodded, grasping her mother’s hand tightly. “Of course I do.”

“Then trust me once more. Your husband is a good man, and he will not touch you unless you…” She paused. “He will not touch you, unless that is what you wish.”

Ah.

Y/N felt torn. He was attractive, she had to admit, and kind enough. But still, she hadn’t wanted to… not again. She squeezed her eyes shut, murmuring under her breath. “He’ll, he’ll find out-”

She had put her trust in the wrong squire. She was only ten and five and he was sweet, or so she thought. She'd trusted him, and he had used her for his moment of fame, a way to coerce the Royal Family. Daemon had gone manic when he had found out, and the squire… Rhaenyra shook her head. “He will never know unless you choose to tell him.”

Y/N nodded, smiling weakly. “Goodnight, Mother.” Spinning on her heels, she stalked toward the main table, standing in front of Gwayne. “Shall we?”

Her husband looked shocked but still nodded. The crowd started jeering, laughing, and making comments about the Princess’s eagerness. That hadn’t made her disturbed.

What disturbed her was that in a few moments, the entirety of the royal court would all be in their shared quarters, watching the bedding ceremony.

It had been a silent walk, neither of them making an attempt to speak to the other. The maid’s eyes all but fell out of their sockets when they saw the Princess burst through their doors, Lord Hightower diligently following three paces behind her.

Gwayne had sensed his wife was an anxious woman the moment they’d met, but tonight, that anxiety was pouring off of her in waves. He smiled kindly at the servants, dismissing them from their work. “That will be all for tonight, thank you.” They scurried out, leaving the pair alone for the first time. He looked curiously at the young woman, who was pacing around the room. Taking a careful step toward her, he spoke softly. “Are you quite alright, my lady?”

“Why-” She stopped, staring at him. “You didn’t kiss me.”

“I-”

“I understand that I am quite homely compared to the beauties of Oldtown, but…” She shook her head, stalking toward him with an accusing finger pointed. “You embarrassed me at my own wedding. The least you could have done-”

“You are not homely, my lady.” He reached a hand out, caressing her cheek. “Quite the opposite really.”

She tensed, pulling out of his touch. “You Hightowers- you’re always planning something. I am the heir to the Iron Throne, and you would treat me as a common woman, not worthy of your love or respect. Even if I wasn’t heir, you should never treat a woman-”

She was quite beautiful, he’d noticed. Watching her rant about his family filled his heart with something he couldn’t quite place. Her eyes were passionate, full of fire and drive. Her hair was quite beautiful while it was down, so dark and full.

“Are you- are you even listening to me?”

Gods, she had caught him staring. “I-”

“I’m sure you are fantasizing about how you will take me during the bedding ceremony, but I assure you, this will be the most uninteresting moment of our married life. Hopefully, I will embarrass you as much as you embarrassed me.” She crossed her arms, satisfied with her dig at his supposed thoughts. While he struggled to find the words to respond, she began to remove her clothes, remaining covered by her thin slip.

His cheeks grew red, and he raised his eyebrows, trying not to combust. “Bedding ceremony?” Gwayne coughed. His voice sounded as if it was being squeezed.

“Are you playing dumb?” She scoffed. “I am sure you have been to plenty a poor maiden’s wedding night.”

He tilted his head, thoroughly confused. “I’m sorry if you have been led astray, but there is to be no bedding ceremony.”

“Ah.” She somehow felt… disappointed? “My mother saved me that embarrassment at least.”

“Well, it was actu-” She stormed past him, slipping on her robe and slippers. “Where are you going?”

“Away from you. I don’t trust you not to-”

While she was stunningly beautiful and quickly driving him into a stupor, he could not stand by and let her assume the worst of him. “Listen to me when I say this- I do not ever wish to embarrass you. Ever. It was I who denied the bedding ceremony. The ‘men’ of the court brought the proposition to me, and when I denied them…” His eyes became dark. “That is a disgusting and vile tradition, one that I do not wish to practice.”

She felt warm, and caught herself smiling. Shaking her head, she pulled her robe closer to her body. “You- you vex me.”

He laughed, stepping closer to her, a smirk gracing his handsome face. “You vex me just as much.” He held her hand, kissing the back gently. “My lady.”

“You-” She growled, stomping her foot like a child. “Good night my lord.” Whipping around, she practically flew out the door, leaving Gwayne alone in their chambers.

Saying farewell had proven to be much more difficult than she had thought. But wearing green… she felt like an imposter. She looked down the line, forcing herself not to laugh at Aegon’s fresh black eye. He refused to make eye contact with her, she could not figure out why. The only Greens she had bothered saying goodbye to were Helaena and the Dowager Queen, ignoring her two uncles. They never cared for each other, if anything, she would be glad to be rid of their presence.

Her brothers stood in a row, each growing sadder as she approached them. Aegon and Viserys did not understand why she was leaving, too young to understand the impact this would have on their family. Joffrey was visibly melancholy, clinging to his sister tightly. He whispered, looking up at her with wide eyes. “Don’t leave me.”

Y/N smiled, kneeling down to be eye level with her little brother. “I will never leave you, Joff. I’ll visit you often, I promise.” She kissed his cheek gently, standing back up, approaching the two eldest. “Behave yourselves.” They looked at her with watery eyes and stoic faces. “Take care of Mother and the boys. I expect-” They both lunged forward, hugging her tightly. She laughed, ruffling their hair. “It will be alright. I’ll be back.”

Luke’s face was wet, and he mumbled into the fabric of her dress. “No you won’t.”

She scoffed. “I will. You just wait and see.”

Jace let go, crossing his arms accusingly. “You’ll be busy, I imagine. Taking care of your family.”

Y/N reached out, grasping his hand tightly. “You are my family. Always. I will always be your sister, you can confide in me until we are old and grey. The city of Oldtown is always open to you.”

She looked back to Gwayne, who nodded firmly, stepping forward to address the princes. “She is correct. Visit whenever you like.” He looked to Y/N, whispering. “We should depart soon.”

She nodded, looking back to her siblings. “I must leave.”

Lucerys let go, wiping away the leftover tears that clung to his cheeks. “I’ll write to you.”

She smiled. “Nothing would please me more.”

Gwayne held his arm out, but Y/N ignored him, approaching Jacaerys carefully. “I will miss you.”

He nodded, staring at the ground. “And I you.”

“Jace,” she sighed. “I do not wish to leave you upset.”

“I am not upset.” He scoffed.

She laughed, shaking her head affectionately. “I suppose your watery eyes are simply a result of hay fever.”

His shoulders shook slightly, a smile peeking out from behind his frown. “Have a safe trip sister.”

She nodded, kissing his forehead gently. “You will be one for the history books, I know it.”

Taking Gwayne’s arm, she looked back at her family one last time before entering the carriage.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

He smiled. “Whatever for?”

“I know you hit Aegon.” She crossed her arms, smirking. “I assume he was one of the ‘men’ who asked you about the bedding ceremony. Am I right?” He nodded. “That is quite noble of you.”

His cheeks grew red. “Merely protecting your honor, my lady.”

She smiled, reaching her hand out, holding his hand for a moment. “You are a much better man than most.”

“It is not hard to do…” He whispered, his eyes kind. “When one has you as a wife.”

Oldtown had done nothing for the couple’s relationship, if anything, it had dwindled it back down into the nothingness it once was. Gwayne was busy running the city in the wake of his uncle’s death, and Y/N, she knew no one. After becoming the Lady Hightower, her old ladies in waiting were taken away, as she was now too low of a position to house that many young ladies for ‘seemingly no reason.’ That had made no sense to her. She was heir to the Iron Throne, how was she at ‘too low of a position?’ Still…

She was utterly alone.

She had tried to make an effort, at first. Gwayne had appreciated it, (as evident from his words at dinner), but he was constantly busy, off in meetings or dealing with skirmishes in the city. Perusing the halls of the castle had passed the time for the first fortnight of her arrival. She loved the way the tower seemingly never ended, even when she reached the attic. It felt infinite, full of new corridors she’d never seen before.

That too grew tiring.

It began to feel so when she came to know the halls of the tower as well as the back of her own hand.

After a rather dreary morning, she meticulously planned her escape. Sneaking away from the watchful eye of her assigned guards, she raced towards the stable, mounting her horse and galloping through the great gates. The citizens of Oldtown stared, murmuring about their new lady. Y/N laughed, not caring to think of their opinions as long as the breeze ran through her hair and the sun shone on her face. The surrounding land smelled fresh, unlike that of King’s Landing. She had no real destination, following the well traveled path until she reached a clearing. Tying her horse to a nearby tree, she strolled down the hill, meeting the most tranquil scene she’d ever been graced with in her life. A large lake, rivaling that of the ocean, laid before her, a small island in the middle of it all.

She removed her robe and garments, haphazardly tossing them on a nearby log. Practically falling into the lake, the water quieted the world around her. A sort of gargled voice rang through the peaceful quiet and she jumped, standing up in the lake to meet her husband's wide eyes.

“My lord.” She smiled weakly.

“A guard informed me that my wife was last seen racing out of Oldtown’s gates.” His voice held a sort of humor. “Naturally, I had to investigate the incident myself.”

She laughed, clutching herself for warmth. “I am sorry if I worried you.”

He shook his head. “There is no need to apologize, my lady.” He picked up her robe, extending his hand. She took it gratefully, wrapping the warm cloth around her. “In fact, no one would fault you if you had left. If that is in fact-”

“No!” She yelled, covering her mouth with her hand in shock. “I meant…” She stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm. “I am quite content, my lord. I wanted respite. From the tower.”

He nodded, holding her hand in his. “You are shivering.”

“I am quite fine, my lord.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I have never known shivering to end in any sort of ‘fine,’ my lady.” He smiled, extending his arm. “Shall we?”

The couple walked in silence for a moment, enjoying each other's presence. Y/N looked up, clearing her throat. “May I request something of you?”

Gwayne nodded eagerly. “Anything.”

Y/N smiled, warmth blooming inside of her chest. “Call me by my name, please. I don’t think I can go another day being addressed as my lady.” She whispered, staring at the ground. “It is quite formal, is it not? For a husband and wife, that is.”

“I would like that.” Gwayne smiled, lifting her chin with a single finger. “As long as you call me by mine in return.”

She nodded, fighting the blush that threatened to form. He was rather beautiful, with his freckles and long hair. “I believe that can be arranged.”

“Gwayne!” She called out for what felt like the fifth time. She had missed his company in truth, and hadn’t seen him in what felt like weeks. (It had been a mere day.)

“Gwayne?” She pushed open a cracked door, grinning. “Are you-” She frowned. The room was empty, except for a portrait. She felt pulled forward, walking further into the room. The woman was stern looking, but beautiful, there was no doubt in her mind. The portraits eyes were bright blue, piercing the very soul who dared to look back at her.

“I see you found my mother.”

Y/N clutched her chest, whipping around. “You frightened me!”

He laughed, walking forward and kissing the back of her hand gently. “I apologize.” His tone was soft, quiet as a mouse. “Did I truly scare you?”

She shook her head, their eyes locked in a dangerous embrace. "So this is your mother?”

He nodded, turning towards the portrait. “My father commissioned it mere months before she died.” He smiled, tightening his hold on her hand. “When I was younger, I would find him in here, staring at her likeness." He laughed to himself. "They were quite the couple.”

“I’m sure you miss her terribly.”

Gwayne’s shoulders tensed. “In truth, it has been so long that I have forgotten what her presence felt like.”

That had made her frown even more. “I understand.”

He nodded. “It is difficult. Trying to remember a parent you hardly knew.”

Y/N’s eyes watered. “Quite.” Taking a deep breath, she turned towards her husband, her voice low. “You look like the very image of her. Your mother.”

He smiled. “Is that a compliment, dear wife?”

She blushed, shrugging as nonchalantly as she could. “She is quite beautiful.”

“Ah.” Gwayne was now fully grinning. “The same could be said about you.”

Her blush vanished, and she shoved him away, rolling her eyes playfully. “Do not tease me, Gwayne Hightower.”

His hand grasped his heart, following after her like a lost puppy. “I would never.”

The Oldtown Library was the very picture of tranquility. Lord and Lady Hightower had chosen to take advantage of the quiet day, and had been simply enjoying each other’s company for hours. It was so rare to have this time together, and Y/N enjoyed knowing that at any moment, she could call out to her husband and he would answer.

She hoped he felt the same.

Her legs ached, having been in this position for so long had caused one of them to go numb. Stretching her legs, she walked over to the bookshelf, scouring for a novel she had read in King’s Landing. She groaned, crossing her arms in annoyance. Of course, the novel was on the tallest shelf.

Reaching up, she made herself as tall as possible, but it was no use. She huffed, whipping around to ask Gwayne for help.

It was like he had already read her mind, because she ran into his solid chest, gasping at the sudden impact. She knew her cheeks were bright red, but she still looked up at his piercing gaze.

He smirked, whispering. “Would you like some help?”

“I-” She bit her lip. “My book. I fear it is too high for me to reach.”

“I believe…” He reached up, staring at her all the while. “That I can be of some assistance.” The book was in his grasp, but she made no move to pull it out of his hands.

“Thank you.” She whispered back. Her back was now fully against the bookshelf, Gwayne inches away from her. “Are you- Are you quite alright, my lord?”

Gods, she was perfection itself, her tone sending shivers down his spine. “What have I told you about calling me my lord?” He sighed, leaning his forehead against hers. “As of late, I find myself…”

She nodded, eager for him to continue. “Yes?”

“I- I find myself wanting for you. Wanting to be near you, wanting to feel your touch…” He laughed. “It is quite intoxicating. You have captivated me, body and soul.”

She felt as if her very skin was on fire. Her heart skipped, Gods, is this what marriage was like? She wanted to capture his lips against hers and bring him to bed. “Gwayne… I-” Of course, doubts flew through her mind. How many women had he said this to before? How many more would he say this to during their marriage? “You do not mean that.”

“I-” He tilted his head. “I do not mean that you have-”

“I am not… you don’t-” Her eyes started to tear up. “Gwayne, I am not-”

He leaned down, capturing her in a passionate kiss. Her eyes widened, and she sighed, falling into his arms, which tightened around her waist every moment they kissed. “You are. Gods, if I could worship you, I would-”

She placed a finger over his lips, silencing him. “Do not say such things.”

He removed her finger from her mouth, kissing her hand gently. “You will find, dear wife, that I am not a liar. You are as divine as the-”

Her finger found its way back over his lips. She laughed at his expression, still as calm and patient as the day she met him. There was something new however, a passion she hadn’t seen before. “You- Do you have any idea the things I-” She squeezed her eyes shut, telling herself to be brave. “Just-” She surged forward, pulling him back down into her lips.

His eyes widened, but he did not fight her, if anything, he had pulled her closer. His arms felt perfect around her waist, she’d thought as his thumb caressed her ribcage. He pulled away from her lips, whispering. “What have I done to deserve you?”

She sucked a breath in. “I- I need to go.”

His eyebrows furrowed, loosening his grip. “Are you alright?”

“I just-” She nodded, smiling weakly. “I have a meeting with Lady Redwyne, she-” She turned away, walking towards the door. “Have a good evening, My lord.”

Avoiding your husband was not for the faint of heart. Or so she had told herself as she actively avoided her own. Out of embarrassment or lack of self control, she didn’t know. She felt overwhelmed by his affection for her, overwhelmed when he looked at her with that passionate gaze that made her knees shake. In a moment of weakness (some would say loneliness), she caved, storming into his chambers. It was the middle of the night, the air chilly as she pulled the robe closer to her body. Perhaps she should have made herself more appeasing, but she hadn’t cared.

She stood by his fireplace, pacing back and forth as she waited for him to return. Her mind started to wonder, where was he at this late hour? She couldn’t blame him, many husbands strayed from their wives.

“Y/N?”

She straightened her posture, facing him hesitantly. “Gwayne.”

“Is everything alright? Are you-” He paused, his eyes taking in her figure. “Did you walk through the tower like this?”

“I-” She smiled weakly. “It was merely from my chambers to yours. I- I made certain no one…” Her voice grew quieter as he walked closer. “Saw me.” He said nothing, and her resolve began to crumble. “I know this is unexpected, but please. Say something- anything would-”

“You look… ravishing.” He swallowed, eyes trained on her. “What have I done to deserve this beauty before me?”

She gulped, trying to ignore the way her heart skipped. “I thought I would apologize. For my absence as of late.”

“Ah.” He nodded, inches away from her. “While I can admit I’ve missed your presence, there is nothing to apologize for.” He looked over her figure once more, lazily draping an arm over her waist. “Have I told you you look ravishing?”

She nodded, crossing her arms. “Yes, you have. I have not barged into your room to be made a fool.”

“You have not made yourself a fool.” He pulled her closer, a gasp leaving her lips. “I am the fool.”

“How are you-” He lunged down, pulling her lips to his.

“I now realize that I have not made you aware of how beautiful you are.” He shook his head, walking them toward the bed. “Allow me to show you.”

“Gwayne! What-” He threw her on the bed, hovering over her.

“You are as radiant as the sun.” He pulled the ties of her robe slowly, heart hammering at the mere thought of her. “You are-”

“Wait.” She stopped, sitting up. “Can I-”

He nodded. “Have I-”

She climbed his waist, straddling him in an instant. Her hand found her way to his cheek, caressing it softly as she whispered. “I wanted to say that I- I find myself wanting you too.”

He grinned, pulling her close. “I’m glad.” Her robe barely hid her figure, with both shoulders fallen and the rest being held up by sheer will. She leaned her forehead against his, pulling at the robe until it gave way. “You-”

Her cheeks were bright red, but she did not break eye contact with him, leaning in closer with each passing second. “Gwayne…”

“Yes?” He whispered, their lips inches apart.

“I know husbands stray… from their wives. But may you-” She leaned closer to his lips, whispering back. "May you pretend I am the only one?”

His eyes widened, and he laughed. “Oh, my darling girl.” He kissed down her neck, around her face, everywhere, smiling as she giggled from his affection. “You will always be the only one. Trust me.”

Her heart skipped. "I do."

"Good." He grinned, leaning forward. "Good."

The sun peeked through the curtains, streaming over the couple. Their legs were tangled together, their arms haphazardly thrown over the other, dead to the world.

Or rather, Gwayne was dead to the world. Y/N watched her husband sleep, staring at his beautiful face, trying to commit it to memory. His freckles were light, but very much visible this close. She reached up, gently pushing his hair out of his eyes. Kissing his forehead gently, she rolled over so she could begin her day.

Gwayne's arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back into his chest. “And just where are you off to?”

She laughed, turning in his arms to face him once more. “You’re awake.”

He nuzzled his face into the pillow, groaning. “I must say, I’m quite surprised you are.”

She scoffed, hitting his chest indignantly. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He looked up, smirking. “You were asleep before I could-”

She slapped a hand over his mouth. “You are much too bold this morning, ser.”

“Ser?” He raised an eyebrow, pulling her with him as he rolled over, causing a symphony of laughter to leave her. “I beg you, do not ever call me ser again.”

“If you insist.” She giggled, kissing his neck gently. “My lord.”

He hummed, closing his eyes. “You are glowing, did you know?”

“That would be the morning sun, my dear.” Y/N smirked.

He shook his head, his face serious. “You are always glowing.” A hand caressed her cheek, resting on her jaw as he stared. “As beautiful as the summer breeze.”

“Gwayne…” She knew her cheeks were bright red. “You flatter me.”

“No.” He shook his head. “It is the truth.” Looming over her now, he kissed down her neck. “Say it.”

“Say what?” She whispered.

“Say you are beautiful and I shall stop.”

“But…” She gasped as he pulled the sheet down to reveal her figure. “What if I do not want you to stop?”

“Well then…” Gwayne smirked. “We are at a stand still.”

She shook her head, pulling him toward her. “No, we are not.”

He grinned. “Then say it.”

“I-” She gulped, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck as he trailed down her frame once more. “I’m beautiful.”

Kings Landing felt different, she had told herself while they walked into her mother’s birthday dinner. Perhaps it was the fact that she was walking through her childhood home with her husband, but she felt confident, prideful even. It was a small, intimate gathering, with only her and Gwayne’s family present.

And by Gwayne’s family, she meant his sister.

The seating arrangements could not have been more unfortunate, with Y/N sitting opposite of her despicable uncle.

“I must say…” Aegon whispered. “It is so nice to see you returned a woman grown.” He leaned forward, smirking. “Perhaps later…”

Y/N scowled. “I dare you to finish that sentence.”

Rhaenyra smiled, standing up and addressing her family. “It warms my heart to have my family gathered for this celebration.” She looked over at her daughter, eyes watering ever so slightly. “Thankfully, my firstborn, my heir, was also able to be in attendance.” She raised her glass. “I’m glad you were able to join us. It has been too long, my darling.”

Y/N laughed. “It has hardly been five moons since my departure, Mother.”

“Yes, well…” Rhaenyra sat down, looking over at Gwayne. “How does my daughter fare in Oldtown?”

“Wonderfully, Your Majesty.” He looked down at his wife, smiling brightly. “She is the perfect Lady Hightower, I must say.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, smacking his arm playfully. “You flatter me, Husband.”

“I am merely telling the truth.” Gwayne laughed. “I dare say we have not had such a Lady since my dear mother.”

Alicent’s face dropped, and Y/N smacked his arm harder. “Gwayne…”

Aegon leaned across the table, sneering at his Uncle. “I must say, I’m quite surprised to see you so inexplicably happy. I’ve heard she can be quite the-”

Jace slammed his fist on the table, silencing the room. “Watch your mouth.”

The platinum blonde sat back, raising his hands up in surrender. “I’m merely enlightening my Uncle, Jace.”

“Why don’t you-”

“It is quite alright, Jace.” Y/N hissed, smiling lightly. “It was a jest.” Gwayne grabbed her hand under the table, caressing the back gently.

Aegon looked unsatisfied. “All I meant to say is that I’m quite surprised you have found love in such a short time.” He looked over at Gwayne, wiggling his eyebrows. “Is she rather-”

It was now Y/N’s turn to slam her fist on the table. Standing up, she glared at her Uncle, grasping Gwayne’s hand tightly. “I am sorry, Uncle, that you do not know what it is to respect your spouse. I am also sorry that you wouldn’t know love if it stood right in front of you.” She gulped, realizing the entirety of her family was now staring at her. “My husband is a good man, unlike the tales I have heard of you and my poor Aunt. Gwayne is kind and caring and-” She huffed. “I have never loved someone more. I pity you, I really do. Never knowing what true unconditional love feels like because you deny yourself every chance of happiness.” Sitting back down quickly, she grabbed her wine, taking a large drink. Her mother stared, a hand over her mouth that Y/N could only assume was holding back laughter. Her brothers looked shocked, shocked that she was so defensive over a man she hardly knew.

But she did know him, and he knew her much better than anyone. The chatter started up soon after, but she was frozen in her seat, refusing to see her husband’s reaction. She had never-

She looked up, jumping when she met his eyes immediately. “I’m sorry if I-”

Gwayne stood up, grabbing her hand. “Follow me.”

“Gwayne.” She hissed, “They’re staring-” He walked out of the room, refusing to acknowledge the prying eyes of their family. “Gwayne, I’m sorry if I upset you. I just- I couldn't take it anymore. He drives me-”

Pulling her into their shared chambers, he slammed the door behind him. She walked out of his hold, hugging herself as she watched him stare at her. “Say something, please. I truly am… I am sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

He stalked forward, grabbing her face and pulling her to him. Her eyes widened, knees weakening at the passion that exuded from his kiss. They stayed latched to each other for what seemed like minutes, ignoring the world around them.

“You are an angel, I am convinced.”

Y/N laughed. “I love you.”

Gwayne grinned, kissing her quickly. “I love you much more, my love.”

She shook her head, basking in his affection. “I do not think that is possible.”

He groaned, laying his head on her shoulder. “Must we go back to dinner?”

She nodded, raking her fingers through his hair. “I’m afraid so.”

He shook his head. “Your mother will have to forgive me.”

She laughed. “For what, my love?”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, throwing her over his shoulder. “I must spend time with my lovely wife at this very moment, or I shall combust.”

Y/N giggled, smacking his back. “Gwayne!”

He threw her on the bed, laughing at her flushed cheeks. “You are simply divine.” Crawling up to her lips like a lion to its prey, he practically growled. “I could stare at you for hours.”

Y/N smirked, wrapping her arms around his neck as she whispered. “Perhaps you could show me how divine I am instead.”

“I believe, dear wife…” He pulled the string at the front of her dress, removing her topcoat. “That can be arranged.”

taglist: @beebeechaos @i-padfootblack-things

#game of thrones #house of the dragon #team black #team green #alicent hightower #gwayne hightower #gwayne hightower x reader #rhaenyra targaryen #x reader #fanfiction #got #got fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd #hotd fluff #literature #hotd angst #angst #🪩! fics

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b1rds3ye · 1 year ago

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Can you make a fic / short headcanon of how the COD men reacts to reader riding those bull mechanical? Their usual bar/pub has installed a new attraction which is that bull mechanical. Either they dared reader or reader wanted to try to ride, depends on the character. You know how those bulls move makes the rider look like they’re grinding?? Yeah I wanna know how the guys reacts to that 👀

OHOHOHOHO GOT IT thank you for sending in the request!! This is the first one this blog has gotten 🥳🥳 I hope you enjoy~

Ride On

The local bar has installed a mechanical bull for an extra activity among the drunk and whimsical. One day off duty, you decide to give it a go and have some fun, and it seems the boys are enjoying it just as much as you.

Characters: Captain John Price, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Johnny “Soap” MacTavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, König

GN!Reader w/ no physical descriptions (except you're shorter than König)

Word Count: 2.5k (~500 each)

Genre: Fluff, Spice, established relationship

Warning: Spicy (but no smut), 18+/MDNI, awkward dialogue (it’s the cutest thing during flirty time fight me)

A/N: I don’t even write stuff that’s mildly spicy so I hope I did a decent job - also apparently mechanical bulls can do some real damage oh my god???

Captain John Price

On duty Price may be your direct superior but off duty you were more than free to do as you please even in his presence, he had always been clear about that. So he knew you were up to something when you sauntered up to him asking him for permission to go on the mechanical bull in the middle of the bar

He could only stare at your deceptively innocent smile for a moment before repeating the mantra that you could do what you want, his free hand automatically reaching into his pocket for a smoke as you strutted to the mechanical bull. You were going to be the death of him

He’s sure this is what emperors felt like in the days of old. Food, drinks, some very enticing entertainment and Price feels like he’s on cloud nine. Sitting by a table, he lounges back, thighs spread as he takes up the entire space of his seat and then some, feeling like a king as he watches you on the mechanical bull. He does not move, save for the occasional shift as his pants tighten

When you’re done riling him up, Price stays put as you approach him again. He can’t hide the incredible smugness he feels when the hungry eyes of strangers trail you, only to look at him in envy when they realise you’re already taken. He isn’t bothered by any of their stares, he can easily give any of them a piece of his mind

“You’ve got guts, love,” Price huffed out a puff of smoke. He remained seated by his table while you stood beside him, his face directly in line with your torso. His gaze travelled along every line and curve of your body that was so tantalisingly close, he could feel the body heat emanating from you. He stifled the urge to lick his drying lips.

“I did a good job though, right?” You beamed. He quirked an eyebrow at your sickeningly sweet voice. So you were going to keep up this charade, as if your face was only flushed from the physical exhaustion of remaining upright on the automaton and not from being so close but so painfully far away from him. Even in the darkness, he could see how your pupils swallowed your irises but he chose not to comment on it - he wasn’t faring any better.

“Passable. You’ve got two choices, sergeant.”

You swallowed, a shiver travelling down your spine as Price tilted his head down, idly extinguishing his cigar against the ashtray.

“Either you go back on the bull for some further training, give everyone here a sight for their sore, miserable eyes…”

Price regards you again, head up so that you could finally see his full face. Like a man lost for days in the desert, he gazed at you as if you were an oasis. Eyes lit up in awe, full of reverence, yet glazed over in carnal hunger.

“Or we leave this pub and you give me a private encore.”

Simon “Ghost” Riley

The instant he saw the new attraction he instinctively groaned under his breath. He already knew that you, Soap and Gaz will be provoking each other for some sort of competition. He’ll interfere if anyone seems uncomfortable but if it’s all smiles and laughs he’ll just quietly watch on with a mirth in his eyes reserved only for you and the task force (he will make a quip about you lot behaving like muppets though)

That being said, he already knows how suggestive a mechanical bull can look. When it’s decided that you’ll give it a go, Simon can only exhale slowly out of his mask, mentally preparing for an unexpected trial of restraint

He slinks back into the darkness of the bar, one with the shadows. His eyes shine like jewels as they reflect the treasure that is you. He drinks in the sight, committing it to memory. If from the bull you manage to see him in the gloom, his gaze is so intense it can single-handedly throw you off the automaton

Even off duty, he’s good at keeping his composure. When you return to him, you almost mistook him for being completely unfazed by your little stunt on the bull. But his voice is a little gruffer, the muscles in his throat straining with every syllable. He shows his neediness through his presence, you won’t be alone for the rest of the night as he accompanies you for even the smallest of errands

Rubbing your shoulder that was bruised from falling off of the bull, you beelined for the rest of the task force, only to get unexpectedly pulled towards the corners of the bar where the lights could not reach.

“Simon?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as you feel his hand splayed across your spine. He was never big on public displays of affection, he was possessive in that all of his love will be seen by you only. Daring a move like this has you turning to him in concern, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest.

“We’ve got a problem.”

“And that is?”

Simon doesn’t reply, not verbally. He takes your hips in his hands, you can tell he’s trying his best to be gentle but his fingertips dig ever so slightly into your skin. Guiding you back to stand just in front of him, you grunted as you felt a hefty weight against your backside. Now that is a big problem indeed.

“Need you,” he rasps, voice so thick with air they were barely discernible words. You allowed him to pull you further against him, a guttural groan escaping him. “Fuck, didn’t know you could ride like that.”

“I’m a soldier of many talents,” you replied. He huffs against his face mask, digging his face into the crook of your neck. “I suppose I could go again. Just, not on the bull.”

Simon’s lips curved into a smile that warped the mask against your skin. His hands on your hips tighten, you won’t be escaping him anytime soon.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

When Johnny’s eyes settled on the mechanical bull, he then took a brief glance at you and his mind went places. This absolute menace is conjuring up a million and one ways to get you on that bull ASAP (with your wholehearted consent, of course)

He’ll do anything, making a dare, teasing you, trying to make a bet, just so he can see you mount that thing. He’s a dedicated man, once he has a goal he’s seeing it through, no matter how many playful slaps and lighthearted glares you give him. He’ll even set an example and go first - he’ll be flattered as hell if he can get you out of all people riled up

Johnny thinks he can handle it, but he’s always overestimating himself when it comes to you. He can’t play off how you’re bothering him as your hips slide forward and back against the saddle. He can only clear his throat uncomfortably and choke out a fake laugh when the rest of the 141 comment on how quiet he’s become

He bit off more than he can chew, he thought he was the smooth one for being blessed with such a sight but he’s finding himself more bewitched by you by the second. When you get off the bull he gives you a feeble punch on the shoulder, trying to act like he’s alright but really he’s completely at your mercy, hovering around you near begging you to give him attention

You didn’t even have time to greet him as Johnny pulled you away from the rest of the task force, down into a quiet corridor of the pub. His silence was unnerving, you asked him if something was wrong but his only response was his lips against yours. When you reciprocated, the Johnny you knew was back with you, smiling into the kiss with an exhale of eagerness into your mouth as he traps you against the wall with his body. His weight against you, it was already hard to get a breath in as he claimed your lips again and again and again. But what truly made you gasp was the hardness that brushed against your thigh. It was initially so brief, you could credit it as a phantom of your own lust, but as Johnny got bolder, it rested permanently against your upper leg.

Now that he made his predicament clear, he reluctantly pulled away from you, just enough for him to speak. His heaving breaths burned against your skin, no more than his azure eyes that bored into yours.

“I got another thing you can ride, aye?”

You burst into laughter as you gave him a playful shove on the chest. It did nothing push him off of you, his smile widening at your countenance.

“Johnny, that was awful.”

“I ain’t lyin’. My li'l MacTavish needs some help.”

“I swear to god I’m leaving you.”

“You know you love me. Now are you gonna help me or no?”

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle has a playful streak, when he sees you eyeing the new attraction he’ll approach you with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he slides some cash to you. “This twenty says you won’t last five seconds on that.”

And with that, a light-hearted competition started. Kyle’s intentions were genuinely innocent, he just wanted to have some fun beyond drinking the night away. After you gave the bull a go he was wholly planning to try after you to show you how it’s done - and possibly impress you with superior balancing powers

It started off fun as you laughed at the odd movements of the bull under you and Kyle smiled with you. He’s willing to give up that twenty as you were clearly having fun

What he did not expect was how as the mechanical bull became more erratic, bucking indiscriminately in all directions that the sight seemed more… suggestive. A yelp of surprise from you has him situating himself behind a table, ensuring no one can see the growing issue below his hips

He dares a look at the rest of the task force who are taking in the sight innocently. Soap is shouting encouragements like a battle cry, Price pulls a face that’s a mix of amused and impressed, Ghost offers a single dip of the head in respect and now Kyle feels dirty, guilt mixing with arousal into a sinful concoction that drips down his tightening pants

As you returned back to the task force, Kyle immediately came up behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist, he sat his head on your shoulder, cheek against yours. With his entire body smothering yours, his whole being moved with every inhale and exhale of yours as you tried to recollect yourself after that exhausting ordeal of the mechanical bull.

“Getting touchy’s not going to make me forget about that twenty, Kyle,” you chided with a smile. You hear a little hmph as one of his hands dip into your pocket, resting over your hip bone. He slips the note in but his hand stays there, his thumb tracing over the wrinkles in your pants.

“You looked real nice up there, you know,” he mumbled into your ear before giving it a peck, arms tightening around you possessively.

“Feels like you enjoyed it,” you whispered, voice disappearing as you noticed something firm pressing against your ass. Your laugh came out far too weak. “Is that a pistol or are you happy to see me?”

He chuckled, husky and restrained, too distracted to reply. His hand in your pocket was becoming more animated, rubbing at your skin. Even through the fabric, you can feel how hot he is, only getting warmer as he gets more antsy, his free hand now tugging and teasing at your shirt.

Kyle spares a look at the rest of the task force, clearly distracted with their own drinking and antics.

“Do you think they’ll notice if we leave?”

“... No, let’s go.”

König

König will never ask you to go on the mechanical bull because he’d never go on it himself. Putting on a show for a whole lot of strangers in a pub? Potentially embarrassing himself in front of said strangers, his allies and you? The thought already fills him with dread and he is empathetic to never ask for such a thing from you. That being said, when it’s established you’re more than happy to give the bull a go, he’s not going to stop you

He knew how suggestive a mechanical bull can look but he figured he could handle it; he did not reach the rank of colonel by giving in to every temptation. But he should have known better when it came to you, your mere existence making him feel like he lost all composure and combat experience

Upon noticing the lustful stares of others, König doubles as a bodyguard. He slowly stalks around the bar, using his hulking figure to strategically block the view of you for others. He also takes note of anyone who seems a little too fixated on you, not hesitating to send a glare their way

Once you lose to the bull, he waits by the edge of the ring, taking your hand to escort you back to your friends. He does it both to be a caring partner for you, but also he’s preening as onlookers visibly deflate upon realising that if they want to get to you, they have to go through him

König’s hand was tight around yours, you could feel it occasionally twitch, aware of his own strength and trying to loosen his hold on you.

“Entschuldigung, mein Schatz,” he grumbled. “You wanted the night here, but I must leave.”

“Why?”

König turned his head away in embarrassment, but you noticed his eyes dipped lower for a split second. When you followed his gaze, you took a moment to pride yourself for getting your partner so riled up. It was only broken when he gently took your chin with his free hand, tilting it up - or just anywhere away from his growing predicament.

“It is embarrassing,” he muttered. “You were just having fun, but I am here… needing.”

“Not at all,” you smirked. “I wanted you to notice me.”

“I am always watching you, Schatz,” König whispered. He was getting bolder - or perhaps more desperate - with every word, the hand on your chin moving down to settle on one of your hips. You tilted your hips into his grip and the consequent breath he emitted was forceful and ragged. “I did not think such a machine could be so… crude.”

“But you liked the sight, right?” Your voice was smug as you pulled his face down to be in line with yours. You now had a perfect view of his eyes that were alight with lust, pupils blown so wide you could not distinguish if it was the gaze of a predator or prey.

“Zu viel.”

Call of Duty Masterlist

#cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod x you #task force 141 x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #könig x reader #könig x you #/*avery actually writes*/#/*avery checks the mailbox*/

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hannyoontify · 3 months ago

Text

die with a smile - kim mingyu

member | husband!mingyu x reader

genre | dystopian!au, apocalypse!au, angst, fluff

word count | 1.7k

synopsis | if the world was ending, mingyu would want to be next to you

warnings | mentions of death, blood, doom’s day?, reader has a smaller build than mingyu, you can guess the ending..

notes | yes, this was based off the legendary collab between lady gaga and bruno mars’ and the song ‘die with a smile’ pls check it out if you haven't this is literally one of the best songs ive ever listened to in the year of our lord 2024

can be read as a stand-alone or as a prequel to this mingyu fic!

‘Come on, slowpoke! Catch up!’

You were running in a green meadow and the tall, swaying grass that reached right below Mingyu’s hip tickled his knees with every step he took in your direction. The view in front of him was the definition of a living dream. The meadow went past the horizon for as long as the eye could see and the bright blue sky seemed large and vast as it loomed over him. The big, round clouds seemed to sway with the wind that blew gently past him, scattering his bangs that were swept across his forehead. Up ahead, you continued to run and skip through the boundless field, a bright giggle leaving your lips as you continued to taunt Mingyu.

‘Last one is the rotten egg!’

A part of Mingyu thought that he would be okay with dying like this.

‘Wait up!’ He picked up his pace and jogged towards you. ‘Baby-'

A loud rumble interrupted his next words as the bright and clear sky turned dark and murky. It was a gradual change, like storm clouds rolling on a sunny day. The rich, healthy grass under his feet began to shrivel up and dry as the dirt ground began to crack and shake.

‘Babe? Mingyu-!’ And right in front of him, the ground gave away and swallowed up the love of his life whole.

‘NO! [NAME] NO-‘ Mingyu reached for you, his outstretched hand too far away to grab your flailing limbs. ‘[NAME]! NO!’

“NO!” Mingyu jackknifed awake, his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and with a hand still outstretched for someone who could never be saved.

“Another nightmare?” Your voice seemed to snap Mingyu back in reality. He cleared his throat and climbed out of his tattered sleeping bag to sit by you at the entrance of the cave. The sky was similar to his dreams; dark and murky but now, there was also red. Everywhere. Mingyu gave up trying to differentiate what the different reds were: blood, lava, fire. It didn’t matter. All of it was going to kill him in some way or another.

He settled down next to you and rested his head on your shoulder. “It was the meadow one again.” Mingyu mumbled quietly. Although the sky was permanently the same kind of color all hours of the day, you and your husband tried your best to stick to some kind of circadian rhythm to try and keep yourselves alive for as long as possible. Right now, according to our bodies, it was the middle of the night and you were on guard duty.

“What do you think it means?” You asked quietly as you reached up to run your fingers through Mingyu’s matted hair. Neither of you bothered to care about the blood on your fingers or the grime in his hair. You were far too deep into this to care about hygiene anymore.

“We’re all going to die,” Mingyu mumbled. “But I refuse to watch you die in front of me like that dream. I want to be next to you until our very last moment.”

You pressed your nose into your husband’s temple and breathed in a deep breath. It was random love confessions like these that reminded you of how much you loved Mingyu’s spontaneity before The Incident happened.

Before the first asteroid hit, you and Mingyu were a normal couple. You each had your respective jobs; Mingyu as the head of his own architecture firm and you as a research analyst at a biomedical tech company, and both jobs was more than enough to financially support your little party of two. The two of you spent your days together exploring the city and traveling the world together. On random Friday evenings, he would show up to your office 20 minutes before you got off with a bouquet of flowers and sheepish smile. Although he understood nothing about your work, he would ask questions and listen to your responses with a loving look in his eyes. He would hold your hand in the hallways, your matching rings glinting under the fluorescent lights as you clocked out.

That childhood, innocent side of Mingyu disappeared after the world turned upside down. He became more dark and serious, almost never cracking jokes and fixated on keeping both of you alive. He also had a rotation of nightmares that visited him every night. They were different variations of the same vision; losing you first as the world ended.

“Guess what,” You whispered. “I got us some food. Real food.”

Mingyu’s ears perked up at that. “Food?”

The past 48 hours were full of rationing Haribo gummies, water, and granola bars. Although it was a difficult switch for you to get accustomed to, it was even harder for your husband, who was much bigger and needed more nutrients than the ones he received from gummies, water, and granola bars. It pained you to see the man you loved constantly struggle with hunger but didn’t even let out a single peep of complaint to you.

“They were really desperate for first aid so I did an emergency medical procedure in exchange for some instant camping food.” So that explained the new blood stains on your fingers. Mingyu kept his eyes trained on your trembling, bloody hands as you tried to open a package of camping food. The label read ‘Instant Lasagna. 2 Servings’.

Mingyu could already feel his mouth watering at the thought of real food. And lasagna? That was a total luxury that almost nobody could afford right now.

“Baby, can you start up a fire and boil some water? We need hot water for this.”

Fifteen minutes later, and the food was ready. Your eyes glistened with a newfound joy as you opened the seal and held out the first spoonful of lasagna towards Mingyu. “Take a bite and let me know how it tastes.”

He shook his head. “No, you first.”

“Mingyu, I know how much you’ve been struggling because of our rations. If you don’t eat first, I’m going to get mad.”

And he definitely didn’t want that. He took the first bite.

“Oh god, that’s heavenly.” Mingyu’s eyes almost rolled to the back of his head as he groaned. As a head of a thriving architecture firm, Mingyu’s had his fair share of luxury dinners and fine dining in his 13 years of working, but this single spoon of instant lasagna cooked in a dark cave while the world was reaching its expiration date was better than anything he had ever tasted in his entire life.

You beamed. “Really? That’s great. Have another bite-“

Mingyu held up his hand to stop you. “Your turn. I refuse to take another bite until you do.”

“Touche.”

This was your favorite position. Your back pressed against the front of Mingyu’s chest with his strong arms wrapped around you. It had always been your ultimate favorite way to cuddle, especially because Mingyu liked to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck at random intervals and deep in a deep breath that tickled the hairs on the back of your neck. The current temperature (read: fire, lava, the basically non-existent ozone) would usually have you push Mingyu and complain that it was too hot, but now, every second counted.

Another asteroid shower had started not too long ago. Usually, this meant packing up everything and moving further east, but both you and Mingyu came to a silent mutual agreement that you were too tired to continue. The two of you were beginning to come to terms with the fact that the world was ending and your time together was also coming to a close.

With every distant thud you heard in the distance, you felt Mingyu take in a shaky breath and nuzzle his face further into your neck. “Gyu…”

“Shhh… I just wanna hold you right now.”

“Gyu, it’s getting closer,” You felt his arms tighten around you. He also knew what that meant. “Lie down with me.”

Mingyu spread his sleeping bag across the stone floor of the cave and gently lowered your head onto the floor, treating you so gently, like you were a piece of glass bound to shatter at any moment. He made himself comfortable next to you, letting you use his arm as a pillow as you buried your face into his chest. “Can you hold me like this?”

“Of course. Today, tomorrow, and every other day you ask me to.” Mingyu kissed the top of your head and sighed.

The two of you remained in silence like that for a while, your sweaty skins slick against each other from the heat, but you didn’t care. You were being held by the man you loved the most. The resounding thuds of the falling asteroids served as a constant reminder for the impending doom waiting for the two of you at the end of this as it drew closer and closer to the cave you were in.

“Look at me, my love,” Mingyu’s voice was ever so gentle and loving. He gently tipped your chin upwards to face him and his eyes roamed your face, as if he was committing every bit of it to memory. “You were the best thing that ever happened to me. Thank you for allowing me to love you and be loved back.”

You smiled. “I’m going to find you in my next life. I promise.”

“That, I won’t doubt for a single moment, my love.” Mingyu dipped his neck lower to capture your lips with his. Soft and gentle. Like Mingyu. A kiss that represented every kiss the two of you ever shared and the ones you will never be able to have anymore. “I love you so much.”

Through your bleary eyes, you tried to commit every part of Mingyu to memory. Under all the grime, sweat, and blood, was the Mingyu you first fell in love with during your freshman year of college. The boy who sheepishly asked for your number after the lecture only to lose to you horribly on your first date at your campus’ bowling alley.

“I love you too.” You whispered.

Mingyu smiled. “Good night, [Name]. Thank you for being mine.”

“Good night, Mingyu. I love you.” Your lips tugged up into a bright smile.

“I’ll love you in every universe. Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow.”

reblogs and feedback are always appreciated ^-^

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