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scarlet-star-witch · 5 months ago

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The moon and his sun

Aemond Targaryen x Female reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 11.5 K

Warnings: Fluffy, Aemond finally makes a friend, characters will be aged up next chapter, reader is from a made-up house

AN: This is my first time writing for HOTD and I'm excited and terrified to share this story with you. I've had this idea in my head for so long and decided to finally get it out. Hope you enjoy xx

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Epilogue

He was used to playing for second best.

In his short life he became used to disinterested gazes, murmurs of his supposed cold heart and fits of rage, avoidant steps when he passed, the curse he possessed as the scarred second son.

But never from her.

She looked at him as though he put the stars in the sky. She looked at him as if he was the reason the sky bloomed with breathtaking colors in the early morning.

He felt himself unworthy of her attention and affection, something she was aware of, and she would hold him and tell him all the love she gave him was very much deserved.

It was a sentiment he always had trouble not disputing instantly.

She made his miserable heart full.

Aemond couldn’t believe his luck himself for the sun that entered his world and brightened his life.

He never believed he was worthy of her love.

And she spent her entire life trying to prove him wrong.

It was a beautiful, sunny, cloudless day.

A day Aemond was dreading.

It wasn’t often their family made trips away from King’s Landing. His father was King and most visitors made the effort to come to the Capitol and spare them the effort of a visit, but a sudden trip had their entire family uproot their usual routine and he found himself hating every moment of it.

Being dragonless, he was left to endure the crashing waves of the sea that made his stomach turn.

“This place is disgusting.” Aegon said the moment they landed on solid ground.

“Aegon.” His mother admonished with a steady glare. “The Ixtal Islands are a beautiful place and they’re home to one of the most powerful houses in the seven kingdoms. You would do well to show them some respect.”

“Not like they’ll offer me anything of importance.” He muttered bitterly. Rumors had spread of his mother and father’s desire to wed him to his sister Heleana, his future already planned for him.

His mood was immediately soured at the realization that none of the beauties he saw on the Island shore were his intended, but that wouldn’t stop him from having his fun.

“Why are we even here?” Aegon whined immaturely, making his mother suppress yet another eye roll in response.

“The Lord of Ixtal is an old friend of your father.”

“I still don’t understand why that demands my presence here.” Aegon rolled his eyes.

“Our council is in need of a new Master of Coin and your father is considering his dear friend. We are here for negotiations and our family is nothing if not loyal. Your father, our King, needs us.” Alicent answered shortly.

Aemond was excited to finally see the Island he had read so much about. He knew their history, their riches and goods they traded with the entirety of the realm. The Ixtal Islands were the most plentiful and prosperous house in the realm and he was in awe to see his readings come to life before him.

It was the socialization he dreaded.

Nobles would look at Aegon with respect, respect he didn’t deserve even being the first born son of the King. Helaena would be regarded with reverence, a comparison to the Realm’s Delight.

But he was nothing more than a second son, easily brushed over.

Daeron was still just a babe, too young to understand the slight they possessed not having been born first, but Aemond understood all too well.

Their family was escorted into a grand throne room and Aemond was in awe of the intricate ornaments that decorated the hall and he briefly wondered why King’s Landing was where the most powerful man in the realm sat when this place existed.

His wide eyes eagerly took in every sight in front of him, admiring how the vast forest behind the castle casted a mystical green glow on the room from the giant window sitting behind the intricate gold throne.

“Viserys!” A cheerful voice called and for the first time in a long time, Aemond heard his father laugh, a genuinely delighted sound as he embraced his friend.

Aegon shared a brief look with him, his shock at hearing his father's laughter clear in the way he furrowed his brows in bitterness.

“It’s been too long, my friend.”

“Alicent, always a delight to see you, my dear.”

Aemond noted the blush on his mother’s cheeks as the charming lord embraced her. He shifted on his feet as his siblings were introduced. He knew what came next, the flippant dismissal was familiar yet it stung each time.

He looked up as the Lord shook hands with Aegon and gave Helaena a polite nod, her body language giving him the signal she wasn’t comfortable with anything else.

As he stepped in front of Aemond, he suddenly felt two feet tall under the man’s gaze. Until he smiled. It was a gesture filled with warmth he hadn’t been expecting.

“Aemond, a strong name for a strong lad.” The lord clapped his shoulder and Aemond felt his body straighten, his confidence reappearing the second he realized he wasn’t going to be passed over yet again.

He looked up at the Lord with a smile, feeling more respected by the stranger in front of him than he ever had from his own father.

“You remember my wife,” The Lord gestured to a finely dressed woman who smiled and bowed to them courteously.

“My son and-” The lord stopped abruptly, suddenly noticing the absence of the person who was supposed to be next in line and looked to his wife who was already wincing, having expected the abrupt drop in conversation due to their eldest daughter’s absence.

“My apologies, my daughter has lived here all her life yet still feels the need to explore.” The Lady of Ixtal explained, the lack of anger in her voice that gave way to begrudging acceptance made it obvious this was a common occurrence.

Viserys laughed and looked at his friend.

“You could not possibly think your children would give you any trouble, would you?” He chided sarcastically to the Lord who could only laugh in delight at his beloved daughter’s antics.

Aemond watched the interaction with wide eyes, intrigued by the sense of ease that surrounded everything.

If they were in King’s Landing and he was late to an event, his mother would have his hyde.

Suddenly, the great doors slammed open and an armored knight was seen running into the room, his hand latched onto someone small who was giggling in delight.

“My Lord, My Lady, I am so sorry, she wanted-”

“It’s quite alright, Ser Jerrod. I know my daughter could not have made it easy for you.” The Lord dismissed the unnecessary apology and smiled down at his daughter who smiled somewhat sheepishly as she passed by to take her place in line.

She smoothed her hands down the front of her silk dress and stood straighter, putting on the air of the perfect and primed daughter, as if they hadn’t all just seen her enter in a tizzy five minutes late.

Her mother looked down at her and leaned over her brother’s shoulder to pluck a leaf from her disheveled hair. Her eyes widened slightly, fearing retribution for her antics, but her mother only raised a teasing brow, silently admonishing her.

The girl brushed her messy hair off her shoulder and finally moved her gaze to their guests, a smile coming to her face as she met the eyes of the silver haired boy in front of her.

Aemond was rooted to his spot, his expression one of perplexed confusion. The smile she sent him, the gesture which was so simple - and usually faked by most at court - was blinding.

He was taken aback by the fact that she hadn’t looked at the powerful presence that was the King or the Queen faithfully at his side. She hadn’t looked at Aegon, Daeron or even Helaena, the only girl close to her age in the room.

She looked at him first.

She smiled at him first.

It was a gesture that wouldn’t mean much to anyone else, but to him, it meant everything, it lifted the veil of neglect he was so familiar with from his shoulders, leaving him to feel lighter than before.

He listened as the Lord introduced his daughter and he ran her name over and over in his head, feeling his cheeks heat, a blush easily coming to his face as she greeted everyone, but her stare came back to him, smiling shyly.

“This place is beautiful.” Helaena spoke dreamily as she took in their surroundings.

They were granted leave to look around while the servants prepared to set up the welcome feast.

Aemond couldn't take his eyes off the white sand and the crystal blue water. He breathed deeply, relieved to smell nothing but fresh flowers and ocean water and not the filth that permeated King’s Landing.

“Father should take over this place.” Aegon mused, earning looks of disdain from his siblings, which he easily shrugged off. “What? It’s much better than our shithole of a home.”

Aemond rolled his eyes at his brother’s crass nature and kept walking, praying Aegon would somehow get lost or at least get bored of his company and leave.

The sound of a loud laugh caught all of their attention and they walked their way through the lavish gardens to find it. Aemond suddenly became nervous as he saw the children of the Lord and Lady of Ixtal.

The oldest son was playing some sort of ball game with his younger brother. The youngest sibling was reading quietly with her Septa. But the eldest daughter was nowhere to be found.

As they stepped forward, the youngest son straightened and nudged his brother to stop. Catching sight of the young Targaryen princes and princess they let the ball they were playing with drop to the ground as they bowed respectfully.

“Hello.” Helaena spoke brightly and the two young boys were helpless against her sweet nature and they both smiled and greeted her warmly.

“Where’s the other one?” Aegon asked rudely, looking around for the pretty girl from earlier who was missing.

Aemond grit his teeth, praying Aegon wouldn’t drive her away before he even had the chance to speak to her.

“She’s in her tree.”

“Her tree?”

The oldest brother pointed to the enormous willow tree behind them.

He called out to his sister, alerting her to the presence of the royal children and just seconds later, Aemond watched with a slowly growing smile as a lithe form began to descend the ancient tree.

She was slightly out of breath as she jumped the last few feet to the ground, brushing her already tangled hair out of her face as she practically skipped towards them.

As if her Septa’s teachings and her mother’s scolding from that morning had finally caught up to her, the smile on her face fell slightly, remembering she was in the presence of royalty. She slowed her pace and curtsied slightly clumsily as she came before them.

“It is lovely to see you all again. I hope you are enjoying Ixtal.”

Aemond felt his face heat with a deep blush at the sound of her voice, the slight accent he heard capturing him instantly and he wished nothing more than to take the book from her young sister’s hands and demand she read it to him just so he could continue to hear the beautiful sound of her voice.

“Your home is lovely. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Helaena spoke, breaking him from his thoughts. She moved towards the girl, the two of them engaging in easy conversation.

Aegon began speaking with the two brothers, learning the rules to the ball game they were playing, the young boys instantly getting along. Which left Aemond to stand by himself.

He shifted on his feet anxiously, contemplating if he should leave and find his mother. He’d at least have someone to talk to then. The pit in his stomach that grew as the familiar feeling of loneliness settled over him broke abruptly at the sound of the beautiful voice again.

“Would you like to sit?”

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers and for a moment, he wondered if she had actually been speaking to him. His gaze found Helaena who was now kneeling to talk to the youngest of the children who was mesmerized by her lavish dress.

Which left the oldest daughter alone and her gaze on him.

He swallowed against the lump in his throat and stepped forward slowly, his heart racing as he took a seat on the bench next to her.

“What are you writing?” He asked after clearing his throat, wincing to himself at the nerves that lingered in his words.

“Drawing actually.” She corrected. “And not very well by the looks of it.” She shifted closer to him to show him the sketches in her notebook, the scent of lavender invading every one of his senses as her shoulder brushed against his.

His eyes looked over the shaky drawings of flowers and the willow tree she had been sitting in just moments ago.

“They’re beautiful.”

She smiled and the sight was enough to leave Aemond thankful that he was sitting.

“Do you draw?”

“No, nowhere near as well as you.”

“You must be shit then because these are awful.”

Aemond choked on his breath at her words, his wide eyes looking over at her in shock. She had a carelessness to her that he thought he would’ve found arrogant, it was certainly how he felt about the other ladies at court who were so brazen before him.

But he found he could only feel enamored by the girl beside him.

A quiet laugh escaped him, his stomach flipping in ways he had never felt before.

“They’re not so bad.” He spoke quietly, his nerves reverting him to his bashful nature.

“You’re quite the flatterer, Aemond.”

No words came to him, he was left to stare back at her, completely taken aback by her easy nature and blinding smile.

She continued to show him her other sketches, the conversation between them flowing easily, something that Aemond had never experienced.

Later, as their guards escorted them away to prepare for the feast, Aemond’s ears rang with the sound of her laughter, leaving him to hope he would hear it again before he had to leave.

He spent the night with a smile on his face, behaving more animatedly than he had in all his life. Alicent had looked at her second son with barely contained emotion, delighted to see him so at ease.

She was so caught up in her emotions, she hadn’t even noticed how his eyes never strayed too far from the eldest daughter of Ixtal.

The mischievous island girl was known to walk around the halls of the castle at all hours. It had happened so often for so long the guards didn’t bother to stop her anymore and no one batted an eye when they saw her wandering.

She made her way to her parents chamber hours after she had been put to bed.

She couldn’t stop the thought in her head and she had to see it through.

With a smile to the guard at her parent’s door, she strolled in as if it were her own chamber. Her parents looked startled for all of a second before they sighed in resignation.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, Darling?”

“I was.”

Her father huffed out a laugh. “So what brings you here, Troublemaker?”

She let out a breath, her shoulders straightening, as if portraying herself as proper would help her cause.

“I want to go with you to King’s Landing.”

Her request did not go over as easily as she wished, she spent the next hour arguing with her parents, pleading her case. She may have overstated how much her decision to learn more about court, but her parents did not need to know her desire lay purely with her need to explore what the Capitol could offer.

Her parents knew she loved to explore and the chance to see a new part of the realm was too tempting to not indulge her in. Her parents loved her more than anything, they loved and doted on all their children in ways that left Lords and Ladies from other houses to scoff and roll their eyes in disdain.

They couldn’t say no to her.

By the next morning, she stood at her father’s side as their ship sailed to King’s Landing, her arm linked through his, her head filled with the wonders of what this new place would have to offer.

A smile grew on her lips as she pictured the shy boy who had complimented her drawings and her excitement began to grow.

She was more reserved than she had ever been as she sat beside the table of royals. King Viserys had planned an extravagant welcome feast for the Lord of Ixtal, his new Master of Coin and his daughter to welcome them to King’s Landing.

She had never experienced so many Lords and Ladies approaching her before, giving her their hand to shake and curtsey before them in greeting. It felt as though she had never truly existed until she made it to the Capitol, where the matters of the court actually held weight and prospect.

Her father had regaled many a knight and Lord over the course of the night, leaving her by his side to sit quietly, the overlooked daughter. She knew the power her house held, she knew the reason most Lords gave their good fortune to her father was to ensure their trade routes would continue prosperously. She knew she was nothing more than fodder at her father’s side.

She picked at her food unhappily, contemplating her decision to venture so far from her home, so far from what was comfortable. Her eyes rose from her plate, surveying the large throne room before her, catching sight of her father in talks with a large group of Lords from around the realm.

With a heavy sigh, knowing she couldn’t interrupt her father, her eyes moved to the head table where the Targaryen family sat.

The head seat where the King sat was empty, he was busy at her father’s side. She let her eyes roam over the queen, taking in her quiet servitude and demure presence. Her gaze fell to the heir, Princess Rhaenyra sat with her husband Laenor Valaryon, her brows quickly rising at the sight of the brown haired children sat beside the silver-headed wedded pair.

Her eyes fell to Queen Alicent’s children, a small smile growing as she caught the gaze of Princess Helaena, the quiet girl sparing her a wave to which she eagerly reciprocated.

She was never one to fade into the background and she eagerly took the Princess’ gesture as a sign of goodwill, standing from her seat to make her way to the head table.

Helaena beamed at the girl as she approached, oblivious to her elder brother’s lustful intrigue and her younger brother who sat up straighter as the girl approached.

“Hello, my Lady, I hope King’s Landing is treating you well.” Helaena greeted the girl happily.

“It is lovely, Princess. I am sincerely grateful to your father for allowing myself and my father to reside in your home.”

“We are delighted to have you.” Helaena assured her. She fidgeted with her hands for a moment, her face turning bashful for a moment. “The ladies of the court will be gathering tomorrow, you should join.”

“I’d love to.” She responded eagerly, relieved to know her newfound solitude would not be long held.

“You should join us for breakfast as well. I can show you my collection.” Helaena added excitedly.

“By the Gods, Helaena.” Aegon groaned beside her.

“Collection?” She asked, staunchly ignoring the prince sitting next to the blushing princess.

“My insects. I’ve collected quite a beautiful group of them. I’d love to show you.”

Helaena had a lovely innocence to her she was powerless against.

“I’d be delighted to see them.” She told the princess sincerely, hoping she had found a friend in the eccentric girl. “I’ve also heard wonderful things about your library. I’m eager to read the works about Valryian history and the Targaryen dynasty. There are only rumors where I come from.”

Aemond sat forward in his seat, his eagerness to interject himself finally coming to a head.

“I can show you to the library.” Aemond offered, finally making his presence known.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to take you from your duties.”

“You won’t.” He insisted, positive his face was blooming with a pink blush as her attention now lay on him. “There are many books that have not been translated, I would be happy to read them to you.”

He seemed to melt under her gaze that watched him curiously.

“You would do that?”

“Of course.” He insisted.

“That would be wonderful.”

He was thankful he was sitting because her smile would have knocked him off his feet.

By the next morning, as soon as the sun rose, he was sitting in the library, anxiously anticipating her arrival. He didn’t have to wait long until the door creaked open and her eager eyes took in the vast shelves around her.

She greeted him with happiness as if they were long time friends, causing his stomach to flutter in ways he had never felt before.

“This is incredible.” She mused, eyeing the many books she had to indulge in.

They spent the afternoon together, her at his side as he read the Valryian texts of their history, stopping every few minutes to answer the many intrigued questions she had.

Aemond was sure his face was on fire, he had never blushed so hard. No one had ever taken such an interest in him, no one had ever paid so much attention to him, no one had ever bothered to listen to him.

But here she was, this girl at his side, eager to know more, asking question after question, trusting him to give her the answer. As soon as he began to fear he had spoken too much, taken too much of her time she’d drawl out ‘tell me more’ or ‘what happened next’ and he was rooted to his seat, turning to the next page as he explained the history of the Targaryen dynasty to her eager ears.

He had never felt so important.

King’s Landing proved to be just as wondrous as she dreamed it. Granted, it didn’t have the luxurious beaches or sprawling forests her home did, but she was just thrilled to be exploring a new corner of the world.

Aemond had quickly become her closest ally. He had taken to showing her every inch of the place he thought she would enjoy, dragging her along to the mazes of gardens, the weirwood tree, the luxurious Sept, but her favorite had to be the library. She had spent many late nights with Aemond at her side, perusing through the many ancient works of Valyrian history.

It fascinated her, but she couldn’t deny she loved to hear Aemond’s voice as he read to her, enthralled with stories of Aegon the Conqueror and his two sister-wives, stories of ancient dragons and their riders, of wars long passed.

A week into their stay, as she broke her fast with her father, she was practically bouncing in her seat, shoveling her food into her mouth as quickly as she could, eager to get the meal over with so she could meet with Aemond and Helaena, the two of them quickly becoming her closest confidants.

“Slow down, my love, you’re going to choke.” Her father warned with a chuckle at her enthusiasm.

“Sorry.” She mumbled through the food in her mouth, causing her father to grimace at her very unlady-like behavior.

“Your eagerness wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Targaryen, would it?” He asked slowly, his knowing smile teasing her clear affection for the young boy she was growing closer to each day.

“Helaena and I are good friends.” She shrugged, effectively dodging her father’s prying. He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat, watching her thoughtfully. He had no idea where she had gained such a witty mouth, it certainly wasn’t from him or his sweet, quiet wife.

She finished the rest of her breakfast at record speed and hopped out of her seat, pressing a quick kiss to her father’s cheek.

“I’ll see you at dinner!” She called out over her shoulder as she skipped to the door.

“Be safe!” He called out, but she was already racing down the halls. He looked to the guard at the door pointedly who nodded and trailed after the rambunctious girl.

She slowed her pace once she reached the courtyard, suddenly very aware of the many eyes that would be on her if she was caught sprinting through the halls. She spotted a head of silver hair by the gates and she beamed, throwing all care out the window as she began to jog towards him.

“Aemond!” She called out and watched as the boy turned to her, his own smile growing at the sight of her.

“Took you long enough.” He jested playfully and reveled in the dramatic scowl she sent him.

“I’m not late. You are just an insane man that voluntarily wakes with the sun.”

It was so small, something so miniscule, but it still managed to make his heart race. Knowing she remembered a small detail about him, no matter if it was something that was so inconsequential, was something he couldn’t wrap his head around.

He hadn’t expected it to affect him the way it did.

~~~

She found herself with Helaena in the gardens, finding any bugs she could for the enigmatic

princess. Digging a jittery bug out of the dirt, her nose scrunched in distaste as the many legged creature crawled over her hand.

“What is this thing?”

Helaena peered over curiously and a wide smile beamed on her face.

“That’s a beetle.”

“They’re not poisonous, are they?”

The princess laughed in amusement at the widened eyes that met her gaze and she shook her head. “No, you’re safe.”

The girl nodded and, though still on edge, was less stressed as she held the bug in her hands.

Helaena, preoccupied with her own bugs, stole frequent looks at the girl next to her, noting the unease in her eyes. She smiled lightly and leaned in close to her.

“You don’t have to do this with me. I know not everyone likes the things I like. I can do this by myself.”

The girl looked startled by her words, a frown growing on her usually bright features and she looked down at the bug in her hands again, her eyes shifting from a look of disgust to one of determination, as if she could force herself to not feel grossed out at their existence.

“I like being here with you.” She said softly. “I don’t really have anyone else here.”

Helaena frowned, the thought of her brother immediately coming to mind and the smile that would grace his usually sullen face every time he was with the Island girl. As if she had conjured him herself, she looked over her shoulder, noticing him coming their way.

“Hello, Brother.” She smiled, though it was futile as his attention was locked onto the beauty beside her.

“Hello.” He spoke, though his eyes never left his sister’s friend. “What are you doing?”

“Finding bugs. Would you like to join?”

Helaena, having expected a ‘no’, given it was always Aemond’s answer anytime she asked him for help digging through the gardens, was shocked as he took a seat among them and dug his hands in the dirt before them without question.

The Princess watched with barely contained delight as her brother and friend immediately started conversing as if she weren’t there, the comfortable ease between them thriving.

Usually she would feel slighted by such an occurrence, but rather than feeling ignored, she was happy to see her brother, who was usually so serious, look completely unburdened. She worried about him, about how tightly wound he was, but since the Lord of Ixtal and his daughter had come to King’s Landing, she had noticed his demeanor change, as if he could finally take a deep breath and release the things that so often held him down.

Aemond looked at the dirt beneath his fingernails and mourned at what his night routine would be subjected to, but he found he didn’t care all that much. The stolen glances to the girl beside him had all sense of propriety out the window.

“Do you do this every day, Princess?” She asked the Targaryen who shrugged shyly.

“Most days. I find I prefer the company of bugs over people.”

The bark of laughter that left her had both the siblings smiling, her joyful nature contagious.

Aemond was transfixed, until he heard his name and he was forced out of his daydreams. He looked up at Aegon who was standing before them, judgment painting his features.

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re digging for bugs, Brother.” Helaena answered innocently, her eyes thankfully locked onto the caterpillar on her finger so she didn’t see how her brother rolled his eyes in disdain.

Aemond glowered at his brother, his mood dampened, his protectiveness for his sister rising involuntarily whenever he was around. He hated seeing Helaena’s eyes dim with every one of his hurtful words.

The Island girl looked between the siblings, beginning to understand just how different they were to her and her own siblings. The more time she spent with Aegon, the more she disliked him. She looked back at Aemond and frowned, noticing the dower expression grow on her friend’s face, and she called his name.

“Hmm?”

“What are these?” She asked, her dirt covered fingers trailing over the petals of the flowers in front of them, diverting his attention from Aegon.

“Marigolds.” He answered quickly, as if he wanted her to be impressed by his knowledge. “You don’t have these in Ixtal?”

“No. It’s a shame, they’re beautiful.”

Aemond bit his lip, his heart racing as she moved back to digging for bugs. He ignored the nerves that coursed through him and reached out to pluck the flower.

“Here.”

She looked up and her eyes widened, her cheeks burning as he tucked the flower behind her ear, his shy smile mirroring hers, his hesitance clear, but his bravery clearer.

Aegon scoffed, rolling his eyes at the pair.

The noise caused them both to glare at the older Targaryen, their eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“You two are pathetic.”

“It’s not our fault your pea sized brain cannot comprehend the idea of caring for someone other than yourself.” She snarked easily, making Aemond’s eyes widen as he nervously looked between her and his brother whose face twisted in anger.

Thankfully, his brother was smart enough to know not to start a fight with her and he stomped away, most likely in search of more wine.

“You shouldn’t do that.” Aemond mumbled, his worried eyes lingering on his brother’s figure as he stormed off.

“Do what?”

“Antagonize him.”

“Someone needs to knock him off his high horse. Why can’t it be me?” She shrugged, perfectly content to be the antagonist in Aegon Targaryen’s life.

“Because I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Why would anything happen to me?”

“Because… he’s… it’s Aegon.” He stressed, as if his brother’s existence was enough explanation.

“Yes, and he’s an absolute cock.”

Aemond’s eyes widened, not expecting the vulgar word to leave her lips. Helaena giggled and leaned into the girl at her side. His shoulders slumped and he allowed himself to laugh, amazed yet not surprised at her ability to evade him of his worries.

A body crashed into her as she turned the corner, almost knocking her off balance, but arms that quickly wrapped around her waist stopped her from falling to the floor.

She recognized the boy immediately.

“Aemond.” She greeted breathlessly with a smile. He pulled away from her instantly, taking a step back to create space between them, his head bowed downwards, avoiding her gaze.

But she saw the tear streaks through the stains of ash on his cheeks. Her smile fell and she stepped towards him, her hands gently lifting his chin, though he vehemently refused and harshly pulled himself away from her.

“What happened?” She asked, trying to keep the hurt from her voice at his avoidance, something she had never experienced from him.

“Nothing.”

“Aemond.” She admonished gently. She hated when he acted like this, so unlike the kind boy she knew.

He kept his head down and she sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I won’t leave you alone until you tell me what happened.”

Aemond huffed and side stepped around her to continue on his way to lock himself in his chambers and wallow, but she was too quick. She grabbed his hand to stop him and pulled him back towards her.

He spoke her name, the groaned pronunciation indicating he wasn’t in the mood.

“I just want to go to my chambers.”

“Fine. We can go together.” She said simply and linked her arm through his as they began to walk.

Aemond let out a long breath, his annoyance flaring for a second, but the moment he looked over at her it faded away into nothing. He brought his arm that was linked with hers closer to his chest, as if needing her touch to soothe his nerves.

He thought he wanted to be alone. After his mother had brushed off his tears and scolded him yet again for venturing through the dragon pit, he just wanted to wallow by himself, but with her arm in his, her steady presence at his side, he found he wanted nothing but to be with her.

Once they made it to his chambers, he reluctantly let go of her and practically slumped his way to sit on his bed, his head bowed down to his feet, his brother and nephews' latest prank ruminating in his head, causing shame and anger to cascade over every inch of him.

“Are you going to tell me what happened now or am I going to have to force it out of you?”

Aemond huffed at her words and began to fidget with his fingers, focusing on the sand that lingered on his skin rather than meeting her inquisitive gaze.

She rolled her eyes and moved to sit next to him on the bed, brushing the sand from his hair.

“Were you in the dragon pit again?”

He nodded wordlessly and she felt something inside her clench. She would never understand the hole in Aemond’s heart, how his lack of a dragon made him feel so worthless.

“They said they found a dragon for me.” He mumbled, causing her to look over at him with concern, her stomach sinking at the hurt she heard in his voice, knowing his dreams hadn’t come true that afternoon.

She knew it could only be a cruel prank at his expense.

“They gave me a pig.”

Her shoulders slumped, her hand reaching out to grab his, intertwining their fingers with an ease as though she had done it a million times before. She had only held his hand a few times and it made Aemond blush bright red every time, even now as he wallowed.

“I’m sorry. They shouldn’t be so cruel to you.”

“They’re right. It’s pathetic, a Targaryen without a dragon.”

“Aemond-”

“Maybe I’m not worthy and I’ll never get a dragon, maybe that’s why my egg never hatched. I don’t deserve it.”

“Stop it.” She spoke sternly, gripping onto both his hands in an effort to calm him down from his ranting. “You are every bit as good as any one of them, dragon or no dragon.”

Aemond sighed shakily and moved his gaze back down to his shoes, feeling as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“What if I never find one?” He asked quietly, as if afraid to speak the possibility out into existence.

“You will. I know you will.” She assured him, though it did little to release him from his sadness. “There are plenty of Targaryens that didn’t claim dragons until later in life.”

Aemond gave her a plain look, to which she just smirked. Serves him right for teaching her about his family history.

“Aemond, we’re young, we still have so much life to live. It’s not over because you don’t have a dragon yet. You have so much time to find what you’ve always wanted.”

The breath that escaped his lips left him feeling lighter, his hand finally gripping hers back, sending a bashful smile her way, hoping it was enough to convey how grateful he was for her.

He didn’t think he could ever find the words to tell her.

“You’d be with me, won’t you? For my first ride?”

“You would want me there?”

“Of course I would.”

She smiled and he was powerless but to return his own. “Then I’ll be there.”

Aemond’s glare was steady on his face, his eyes locked onto the Strong bastard that twirled her around.

How dare he ask her to dance, how dare he touch her, how dare he make her smile.

His disdain for his nephews was clear, they certainly didn’t give him much reason to be cordial, but this was the last straw. Seeing Jacaerys’ hands on her made his blood boil.

Those damned nephews of his had already stolen her away from his side that afternoon. He could only watch helplessly as she played around with the bastards and spoke politely to his half sister Rhaenyra.

He almost resented how sweet his friend was. He loved her kind heart, he just hated when it extended to his elder half sister and her sons who he despised.

He hated when Jacaerys and Lucerys stole her away from his side. It was happening more and more as they became closer. He felt like he was losing her, the more times she spent breaking her fast with his eldest sister and her brood, the more he dreaded every moment away from her.

She was his only friend, the only one he felt truly understood him, or at least made the effort to. Losing her would mean losing the only shred of happiness he’d managed to find for himself.

He averted his gaze from Jace and the Ixtal girl, the sight of both their bright smiles becoming too painful.

“They seem to get along well.” His father mused, prompting Aemond to torturously follow his gaze to the pair yet again.

His heart began to race at the insinuation, at the knowing look in his father’s twinkling eyes.

“Yes, he seems to be quite taken with her.” Rhaenyra noted with a loving smile.

“They’d make a fine match.” His mother added. Aemond looked to his mother, betrayal in his gaze. His mother knew how much his friend meant to him, she knew someone so precious shouldn’t be shackled to a bastard.

He refused to hear another word. His chair screeched loudly against the floor as he abruptly stood and made his way out of the room as if there were no air left for him to breathe. They couldn’t take her away from him, they couldn’t give her to that bastard.

He raced to his chambers, hoping he was quick enough that no passing guards could see the tears forming in his eyes.

By the next day, he found himself in the gardens, his eyes locked onto the open book in his lap as he read and re-read the same sentence over and over, his racing mind not allowing him to focus on the words in front of him.

The dread he had been feeling since the night before had not dissipated in the slightest.

“Aemond!”

His heart leapt within his chest at the sound of her voice. His hopeful eyes looked around the garden before landing on her and a feeling of lead settled within him, bringing him right back down to his dour mood as he noticed Jace and Lucerys beside her.

She motioned for him to join but he just shook his head softly and moved his gaze back down to his book.

He let out a long breath, trying his hardest to ignore the bitterness that grew in his heart, one that was all too familiar from before he met her. He startled slightly as a body slumped next to him. He looked up and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of her looking at him questioningly.

“Why are you sulking?”

“I’m not sulking.”

She breathed deeply, as if disappointed by his obvious lie. “Why didn’t you join us?”

He shrugged, he couldn’t very well tell her the truth about how he despised his nephews and seeing her with them was like a dagger to the heart, how he feared losing her, his greatest friend.

“I didn’t want to intrude.” He spoke softly.

Her eyes narrowed at his words, her gaze moving to the two Velaryon boys who were talking quietly amongst each other, their curious eyes occasionally drifting to her and Aemond.

She knew there was tension among them, the way they seemed to side with Aegon and play along in the cruel pranks he would play on Aemond always made her stomach twist. She suddenly felt guilty that she had never considered how it would make Aemond feel to be forced in their vicinity after how they treated him.

She turned to her friend and shuffled closer to him.

“You could never intrude.”

Aemond looked over at her, but quickly averted his gaze, finding it just too much to look in her eyes while she sat so close to him.

“You don’t have to stay with me. If you want to be with them, I won’t stop you.” He spoke quietly. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel smothered by him.

“I’d rather be with you.”

Her answer left him using all of his willpower to keep himself from marching directly to his father and demanding a betrothal this instant.

She chose him.

No one had ever chosen him.

She was bored out of her mind. With Aemond and Helaena gone to Driftmark for Lady Laena’s funeral, she was left without her closest confidants, leaving her little to do in their absence. She wished she’d been granted leave to attend the funeral with them, but her father had never met Laena and had been tasked with extra duties while the King was gone, leaving her to stew in her loneliness.

She was curled up on the settee by her bed, her sketchbook in her lap as she scrawled out an attempt at drawing Dreamfyre, to horrible failure.

A soft knock on her door made her lift her head and she sat up straighter when her father entered. The look on his face made her stomach twist, dread falling upon her like a crashing wave.

She got to her feet quickly, feeling unsteady on her now weak legs.

“Darling, there was an… incident on Driftmark.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart racing. “What happened?”

“I wasn’t privy to all the details but all I know is that Aemond has been injured.”

The breath was knocked out of her and at the first sign of her face crumbling into despair, her father crossed the room and held her tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as the first sob broke free.

“Is he alright?”

Her father let out a long breath at her hiccuped words, holding her tightly. He knew his daughter had certain affections for the young boy, but hearing her now made him realize just how deeply she cared for him.

“The Maesters say he has lost an eye.”

A shuddering breath escaped her and she suddenly felt faint. She had no idea how, what could have unfolded, who would dare to do something so barbaric to him.

The next days were spent in agony. She barely left her chambers. Every time her father came to check in on her, he found her sitting by her window, her gaze locked onto the horizon, waiting eagerly for the Targaryen family’s arrival.

On the third day of her lonely torment, she finally spotted it. Dragons on the horizon. She was on her feet in a second and racing down to the courtyard. She was out of breath and disheveled by the time she made it, but her pace only quickened when she saw Helaena with her mother.

She called out to her friend and Helaena let out a breath of relief when she saw her, her arms opening for her as she approached.

Helaena didn’t let many touch her, but she was one of the lucky few she allowed.

“Are you alright? Where’s Aemond? Will he be ok?” She fired off questions, not even able to get a breath out through her frantic words.

“It’s alright, my Darling. Aemond will be fine.” Alicent consoled her, placing her arm around the shaking girl’s shoulders.

“Where is he?”

“He’s been taken to the Maester’s solar. He’ll have to spend some time there while he heals.”

“What happened?” She asked breathlessly.

“What I told him.” Helaena interjected calmly. “He gained a dragon, but he had to close an eye.”

She looked at Helaena with shock. “He… he claimed a dragon?”

She couldn’t make sense of the despair, relief and joy she had felt all at once. Knowing Aemond and his endless plight to gain a dragon, she knew he would see it a worthy trade, but the thought of him injured, permanently maimed, made her want to crumble to the ground below her.

After bidding goodbye to Alicent and Helaena, she made her way to the Maester’s wing of the Keep. She was denied entry, but she was determined to not let it stop her. Each day, at the crack of dawn, she’d drag herself out of bed and, before even breaking her fast, would make the trek to the Maester’s wing and ask to see Aemond.

She was refused each and every day, but it did little to deter her. She kept trying.

It had been weeks since she had seen Aemond. Her heart was aching without the presence of her best friend, without the boy that made her smile like no other could.

On the fifth day of the third week, as she made the familiar walk to his door, the guard stopped her, as usual, though his words were different.

“The Prince does not wish for any visitors.”

She frowned. It always used to be the order of the Maesters or Alicent, claiming her son needed his rest, but now it was Aemond himself refusing her.

She couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but she knew she had felt her heart crack in a way she had never felt before.

She walked away from the door with her head bowed in defeat.

The hurt she felt mirrored Aemond’s own. Refusing her made him ache, but the thought of her seeing him as he was and looking at him with disgust was unfathomable and he would delay that inevitable despair as long as he could.

He sulked in his bed, the dour expression on his face one that had been constant for weeks.

His mother was by his bedside as she had been for weeks. He couldn’t stand to see her wince or her teary eyes everytime she looked at his ghastly scar.

She had been trying, in no subtle terms, to get him out of the room, even going as far to bring up his friend, the one he longed to see yet dreaded ever seeing the same look on his mother’s face on hers.

“It’s been a few weeks. She’s been worrying herself sick.” His mother told him, making his already weak heart more fragile.

He stayed silent, his frown deepening in despair.

“Aegon and Helaena will be heading out tomorrow to Ixtal. You should take Vhagar and join them.”

Aemond shifted uncomfortably. He knew his friend was leaving tomorrow, to visit home for her mother’s name day. They had all been invited, but with his father’s fading health and his mother’s refusal to ride on dragonback, it left just Aegon and Helaena to join the festivities.

“Aemond.” His mother prompted again, the disappointment in her voice clear.

“I don’t want to go.” He mumbled, one of the few sentences he’d managed over the past few weeks.

His mother sighed in defeat and didn’t bring it up again for the rest of the night, leaving him to his solitude as he preferred.

The next morning, Aemond lay in bed, the wound over his eye itching gratingly. He longed to claw at the wicked scar, to scream in anger, to enact his vengeance on that Strong bastard. The fury festered in him like the open wound on his face, red and flaming.

The soft sound of his door opening and closing made him stir, assuming it was his mother yet again. As he lazily turned his head, dread settled in his stomach, his remaining eye widening in horror at the sight of her, the one he longed for yet resisted.

She froze in her place at the door, her jaw falling slack, a shaking hand covering her mouth as a hitched breath escaped her at the sight of him.

Aemond’s face twisted in agony. This was exactly what he wished to avoid.

“What are you doing here?” He asked angrily, tears forming in his remaining eye.

“I just wanted- I wanted… we’re leaving soon.”

It was faint but he heard it. Fear. The stuttering of her words, the quiet, almost docile way she spoke that was so unlike her was like a hatchet to his heart. The look on her face was even worse. She could barely make eye contact with him.

“Get out.” He spoke lowly through gritted teeth.

“Aemond, I-”

“Get out! I don’t want you here!” He screamed at her, tears steadily falling down his cheeks.

Her own tears began to fall, her face twisting with agony. He hated it. He didn’t want her pity, he didn’t want to see the disgust on her face that everyone would face him with for the rest of his life.

“Leave me alone! I never want to see you again!”

She let out a sob and turned on her heel, leaving the room with haste.

Aemond slumped back in bed, placing his hands over his face, ignoring the way it made his eye ache, and he cried for what he had lost.

Not just his eye, but his love, his happiness. His everything.

She stood on the balcony of the banquet hall, breathing in the fresh ocean air. She missed home. She had thought of this moment for weeks, had been eager and excited to finally visit, yet now that she was there, it was bittersweet.

The sound of the waves weren’t as peaceful as she remembered. The food she ate wasn’t as delicious as she remembered. The music and the dancing wasn’t as exciting as she remembered.

“Darling?”

She turned to see her mother approaching, concern written across her face as she moved to stand next to her daughter, her arm crossing over her shoulders, bringing her in close to her side.

“Are you alright? I thought I’d see you dancing all night.”

“I’m fine.”

The Lady of Ixtal looked to her once vibrant daughter worriedly. She was far from the girl that had left all those months ago. From all the letters she had sent, it seemed her daughter was having the time of her life in King’s Landing. The girl she saw now wasn’t the one who had gleaned nothing but happiness.

“Was it not what you expected?”

She stiffened, the need to defend her friends and her new found home rising. “No, it’s- King’s Landing is lovely.”

Her mother sighed. She had gotten a short re-telling of the last few weeks in the Capitol from her husband and she was starting to put the pieces together.

“I couldn’t help but notice your friend isn’t here.”

She looked up at her mother, her wide doe-like eyes giving everything away.

“Aemond?”

She felt her cheeks heat and she turned her attention back to the view before her, focusing on the waves of the ocean, mirroring her breathing with each crashing wave.

“He’s not my friend anymore.” She spoke quietly through the lump that grew in her throat.

“From what I’ve heard, it sounds as though he is going through an awful time, something no one, especially someone so young, should ever have to endure. People don’t exactly act rationally when they are hurt. It is easy to speak things that are untrue in that state.”

She stayed silent, taking in her mother’s words thoughtfully. It was easy enough to explain, but it didn’t lessen the hurt she felt.

“You can stay here if you wish. The Gods know I would love to keep you in my arms, but I don’t think that is truly what you want.”

She let out a shaking breath, her mind a mess as she thought of her life in King’s Landing, of what she’d be leaving behind. But, if Aemond was being truthful and he didn’t want to see her or be her friend anymore, what would her life be like there?

“I don’t know what to do.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Her mother assured her. “Or else we’ll have a dragon landing on our shores demanding you come back.”

The smile on her mother’s face made the hurt inside her melt away slightly. Her conviction that Aemond would forgive her for her intrusion, that he would bring her back into his life and his arms made her hopeful.

Her mother was never wrong and she prayed she wouldn’t start now.

She clutched onto Helaena’s waist as they flew on Dreamfyre back to King’s Landing. No matter how thrilling it was to ride a dragon, no matter that she felt as light as a feather, that she could touch the clouds and feel as though she was in a magical, untouchable realm, it felt wrong.

Her first ride shouldn’t have belonged to Helaena, it shouldn’t have been with Dreamfyre. It wasn’t what she promised.

As they dismounted, Helaena’s hand held hers and stayed, holding tightly as they made their way from the dragonpit to the Keep, as if knowing her friend needed the comfort.

As they parted, Helaena promised she’d spend the day with her tomorrow, knowing she needed the distraction from Aemond.

She smiled, though it wasn’t as bright as usual, and with a wave, they parted. She stepped into her chambers and sighed heavily, mourning what her time in King’s Landing would hold.

She moved to her bed, content to hide under the covers for the rest of the day, but she stopped, noticing a bundle of flowers on her desk. She frowned, she certainly hadn’t put them there before she left.

She stepped closer, her fingers gently tracing along the soft petals. They were perfectly bloomed and freshly plucked, most likely just placed on her desk mere minutes before she arrived.

It suddenly struck her.

They were marigolds.

She remembered the flower Aemond had tucked behind her ear, the ones he would bring her on occasion simply because he knew she was fond of them.

Her heart began to race, her stomach flipping at the merest notion that it could’ve been from her best friend. She picked up the bundle, inhaling their fresh scent with a small smile.

She noticed the slip of parchment below them, the simple words in familiar handwriting brought tears to her eyes.

I am deeply, truly sorry.

I didn’t mean a word of what I said

Please forgive me

- Your Aemond

Her breath hitched, her chest feeling tight with sorrow.

The words he had screamed at her that day hurt her deeply, yet the thought of not having Aemond by her side, not having him as her friend, was unfathomable.

She spent the remainder of the day in her chambers, picking sparsely at the food her father had sent to her, knowing she wanted her solitude. By the next morning, having thought of nothing but Aemond all night, she was determined to see the end of their rift.

She dressed quickly and stepped out of her chambers, determined to march her way straight to Aemond, but she was stopped by her guard.

“The Prince has requested your presence in the gardens.”

The crease in her brow that signaled her determination smoothed out, leaving nothing but hopeful nervousness as she quickly made her way through the halls of the Keep. She ignored the looks of disdain from the ladies of the court as she raced past them, ignoring the whispers of her undignified behavior.

They were the last things on her mind.

Her heart was racing within her chest as she approached the gardens. She walked the familiar path, one she had taken countless times, to get to their usual meeting spot. Her feet came to an abrupt stop as she turned the last corner and saw him sitting on their bench, the one they always congregated to over the months together.

Nervous butterflies fluttered within her as she approached him.

She called out to him softly, cursing herself for how her voice shook in hopeful anticipation.

Aemond turned to face her and she was shocked to see the eyepatch across his face, covering the angry looking wound she had seen that morning in his chambers.

Her heart ached at the sight of the red scar that peeked out from the patch. It looked painful and the reminder of what he had gone through, what his own nephew had inflicted on him made her want to cry.

He spoke her name in greeting, giving her a small, weak smile. He winced slightly, the pull of his cheeks causing his scar to flair with pain.

Her chest tightened at the sight of him. He seemed smaller, as if he sat hunched over, trying hard not to take up too much space in the world.

“I’m sorry.” She blurted out before he could speak. He looked up at her incredulously, his stomach twisting at the despair he saw on her face. “I shouldn’t have just barged into your chambers. I knew you wanted privacy and I ignored your wishes and I’m sorry. I never meant-”

Aemond spoke her name breathlessly, stopping her rambling apology. He had never seen her so frantic before, it was unnerving to him, nothing at all like the lively girl he was used to. And it was his fault.

“You don’t have to apologize.” He told her softly. He looked down at his hands that fidgeted in his lap, shame overcoming him as he thought back to that day, when he had yelled at her so callously. He had replayed that moment over and over again in his head for days and it was torturous each time.

He couldn’t get the sight of her tears out of his head. To know he was the cause was his greatest shame.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke earnestly, looking her in the eyes intently, hoping she would believe him. “I never should have spoken to you that way. I’m so sorry I made you cry. I never will again, I promise.”

She let out a long breath, his words stirring something inside her she couldn’t recognize.

He frowned deeply at her lack of reaction, shuffling over and patted the space next to him on the bench, motioning for her to take a seat beside him.

She moved slowly, hesitantly taking her seat next to him.

“I’ve never seen you that angry before.” She spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper as she recalled that dreadful day.

Aemond sighed and bowed his head.

“I…” He started but soon found he had no words, no excuses for how he had treated her. Nothing would ever make it ok, never to her. “I hated to see you look at me like that.” Was the only thing he could think to say.

“Like what?”

“Like you were horrified of me.”

“I was horrified.” She said and he felt his insides turn to stone, his throat tightening with emotion. “But not of you. Never of you.” She added quickly, causing him to look over at her, his eye wide and shining with unshed tears.

“But-”

“Aemond, the thought of what happened to you, the thought of you in pain… it hurts me.”

The vice around his heart lifted instantly. His mind was spinning with the insinuation of her words.

“You… you’re not-”

She reached out, taking his hand in hers, causing words to fail him.

“I could never be afraid of you. I could never feel disgusted by you, I could never think any less of you, or whatever other horrible thing you think I feel for you now. No scar will change how I care for you.”

The weight that had been suffocating him for weeks now seemed to lift just the slightest, allowing him to feel as though he could finally take a breath.

He let out a shaking breath and tightened his hand in hers. She smiled softly and leaned in closer to his side, letting her head fall to his shoulder, letting him revel in her closeness.

He hated the stares he got from the ladies at court, he hated the winces, the horrified gasps as he passed them. He hated the worried looks he received, as if he was seconds away from collapsing like a weak mannered child.

But none of it mattered.

She still cared for him, she was still by his side, her hand in his.

Even the burning fury he held for his nephew seemed dim in the wake of the pure delight he felt in her presence.

“But, if you ever raise your voice to me like that again I will smack you.”

Her threat, that held no anger in the slightest, made him laugh and duck his head against hers as his body shook with each breath of laughter.

His first laugh since the incident.

From then, they were closer than ever. One was seldom seen without the other at their side.

The Ladies at court through the two of them were just about the most darling thing they had ever seen. Yet, not everyone was rooting for the threads of young love to flourish.

Alicent watched her son in the training yard with a frown. Her second son, so dutiful and so smart, was becoming distracted. Her eyes never strayed from him as he neglected his own lessons to play around with his friend, watching with a scowl as the two of them laughed together, as if there was no care in the world.

The sight of the young girl in the training yard was enough to leave her appalled, but her son’s willingness to indulge in such unseemly behavior was worrying.

“We cannot let this go any further.” Her father spoke from beside her.

“I can’t very well tell him he cannot be her friend. It would devastate him.”

“Let them be friends, but make it clear that is all it will ever be. Aemond can’t get any ideas about marrying this girl.”

Alicent chewed on her lower lip anxiously. The thought of tearing her son away from such happiness turned her stomach, but the thought of him marrying a girl so unpredictable was just as unfortunate.

“Would it really be so bad? We could gain leverage with her father.”

“Ixtal is a neutral house. They have never taken a stand in any war, that won’t change now. We cannot risk Aemond allying with a house that could not give us leverage for Aegon’s claim.” Otto hissed angrily.

Alicent wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes falling back to her son, taking in the sight of his smile while she still could. She doubted it would be a common sight once he was forced away from the Island girl.

But they all had a duty to perform.

Her arm was looped through his as he guided her past the dragon pit.

“Where are we going?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at the structure that housed the mighty Targaryen dragons they had just passed.

“Vhagar doesn’t stay there. She doesn’t fit.” Aemond explained, a slightly smug smirk crossing his features as he subtly boasted about his newly claimed dragon.

Her smile twitched slightly, her nerves suddenly overtaking her. She’d been hesitant when Aemond offered to introduce her to his mount, but the reminder of the great beast’s sheer size had the beginnings of fear creeping through her veins.

Noticing the subtle shift in her expression, Aemond tightened his grip on her arm.

“I would never put you in danger.” He assured her. “Vhagar is bonded to me, she can feel what I feel for you and she would never hurt you.”

“If I could hear that directly from Vhagar I might be able to breathe properly.”

Aemond snickered and led her forward excitedly.

Soon, they arrived at the crest of the hill, Vhagar’s enormous form coming into view. A shuddering breath escaped her when she came face to face with the historic dragon that fought in wars long before her time.

She could barely comprehend such a beast of her size existed among them, that the sweet boy beside her commanded her or even willingly approached her.

“Relax.” Aemond told her softly, moving out of her hold so his hand could take hers, intertwining their fingers.

The pair of them stepped towards the sleeping giant. She watched, mystified, as Aemond spoke a few words of Valaryian, the dragon's eyes sleepily opening, her large head lifting towards them.

She felt her body freeze, the blood in her veins running cold as the mighty dragon looked past her rider, her curious gaze landing on her. A low rumble shook the ground, Vhagar’s protest to the stranger before her.

Aemond soothed his dragon, placing an affectionate hand on her snout as he spoke soft commands.

She doubted a few measly words would suddenly convince Vhagar that she wasn’t a tasty snack, but she could only watch, her eyes widening as the dragon became disinterested by her presence, laying her head back down on the warm grass she had been slumbering on.

Aemond looked over his shoulder at her prone form several feet back and smiled, motioning her to come closer.

She shook her head adamantly, her feet frozen in place.

He spoke her name, holding his hand out to her.

She looked to his hand and then to his dragon and back again, contemplating the risk to her life.

“Do you trust me?” Aemond asked and her tense shoulders sagged. She had no reason to doubt her best friend. With one look in his eye, she knew he would never let any harm come to her.

She took slow steps forward, her fear not allowing her to move any quicker.

She reached out and took Aemond’s hand in hers as soon as she was close enough, holding on tightly.

“It’s alright.” He assured her.

He guided her hand toward Vhagar, watching the girl beside him closely, gaging every expression that crossed her face in a matter of seconds. From fear, to doubt, to disbelief and suddenly to awe.

A shaky laugh left her lips as her hand softly rested on the rough scales of Vhagar’s side. Pure delight was etched across her face as she pet the mighty beast as if she were nothing more than a house cat. Aemond saw how excited she got when one of the many stray cats that roamed Flea Bottom ventured their way into the Keep.

The excited smile she wore now as she pet his dragon was the same one he saw when she would cradle those strays.

The thought made him laugh and he leaned in close to her, letting his head rest against hers.

Seeing her now, fearless by his mount’s side, only confirmed what he already knew.

She was meant to be with dragons. Meant to be with him.

I will hopefully have the next chapter out within the next couple of days! And yes, every chapter is going to be long, I have no control. Hope you liked it xx

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon fic

4K notes · View notes

13lov · 1 year ago

Text

tethered. | jjk

Love notes were slipped into your locker on a daily basis. Variations of messy, boyish handwriting on yellow sticky notes stacked upon themselves by the end of each school day. Every Friday night you were invited out with the promise of "You'll have fun, just give it a chance."

You could have any guy you wanted, no doubt about it. Yet somehow, the only one you do want is the tattooed, gothic one that lives a few doors down from your best friend.

✰ pairing. — emo!jk x reader

✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend's older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.

✰ word count. — 7k+

✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, partying, mentions of drinking/drugs, friendship betrayel (?), smut [virginity loss, teasing, fingering, soft dom!jk, "i've waited so long for this" type shit], reader and jk are both 18+, minors dni.

✰ a/n. really love this pairings and would love to have drabbles with them in the future, so pls lmk if u guys would be interested in that! thanks for all the love on the teaser, hope u enjoy! <3

✰ taglist. @ahgasegotarmy116 @hellbornsworld @kissyfacekoo @littlestarstinyseven @skzthinker

Two monumental events had been etched into your brain for eternity, the first being sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet up with your friends at the community pool. The second is fifteen minutes upon arriving at the pool, seeing your best friend's older brother emerge from the chlorine-scented water as if he were Poseidon and realizing you were utterly infatuated by him.

Jeon Somi isn't blind to this, immediately pulling you away from the crowd to question the longing gaze on your face. "Out of every fucking guy here with us, you're making eyes at my brother? You do know that Jungkook is completely gross, right?" She was so furious, you're surprised no steam was blowing from her ears.

Deny it all you want (and you certainly did within that fifteen-minute interrogation); Jungkook very clearly had a hold on you that lasted many years following that fateful night. He wasn't even your usual type; he wouldn't be caught dead around the guys you're typically drawn to. He had a rebellious side; maybe that's why getting him out of your head was nearly impossible.

Of course, the eternal guilt of falling for your best friend's older, dumbass brother is also difficult to get out of your head.

It can't be helped, really. Anytime you'd visit their home, your eyes would automatically wander through the crack of his doorway as you'd pass by. Whether he was messily cutting his dark hair while blasting Pierce the Veil from his speakers or giving himself a new Stick-and-Poke tattoo as he waited for a CD to finish burning, you long to break away from Somi for a moment to speak to him. Ask him about his day or if his band had any upcoming gigs. You'd even talk to him about paint drying if it meant you'd get to be in the same space as him.

So it's safe to say you were completely heartbroken when he left for college. Somi, however, is over the moon. Or so you think.

"… He's your brother, though. You don't think you're gonna miss him at all?" You ask, watching Somi delicately paint your fingernails a pretty shade of purple.

She shrugs, "I mean… it's definitely gonna be weird not seeing him around the house every day, but he'll still visit sometimes. Maybe."

Deep down, Somi knows Jungkook won't visit much. He'd been craving freedom and independence from their parents for ages, and moving away for college gave him the perfect opportunity to live as he pleased. They weren't fond of the clothes he wore or the friends he had, and absolutely couldn't bear the music his band makes. They criticized every little thing about him, and he'd finally be getting a break from them.

As you're about to ask Somi if she's okay, she stands from her bed, screwing the nail polish closed. "I'll be back. I have to let Bam out." Her voice is shaky, and she doesn't look at you as she exits the room.

You take the opportunity to make your way down the hall and to Jungkook's door, which he has conveniently left wide open as he scrolls on his desktop. His knees are pressed against his chest as he's heavily focused on editing his Facebook page. There's a rock song playing lightly from another tab that you can't quite identify; he uses his free hand to gently tap along to the beat of the music.

His room is covered in cardboard boxes, soon to be packed into his parents' minivan and making their way to the University of San Francisco dorms.

Your knuckles tap on his wooden door, your heart fluttering when he turns around, and you realize he's changed the ring on his lip from black to silver.

He nods at you, "What's up?"

"Nothing. I just know you're leaving in the morning, and I wanted to say bye. And wish you good luck, of course." You're not sure why you're so heartbroken. It's not like the two of you were ever a thing. It's not like this would be your last time seeing him. Why were you so upset?

"Cool, thanks." You assume that was his way of indirectly telling you to get out until he reaches into his desk drawer and says, "Catch," before tossing something towards you.

Careful not to mess up your manicure, you easily catch the item, unfolding what appears to be a purple bandanna. "What's this for?" You ask, inspecting the material in your palms.

"To remember me by, duh. Plus, it matches your nails.”

It'd be silly to tell him you genuinely don't need this because there was no way in hell you could ever forget about him. Instead, you clutch the bandana tightly in your fist and make a silent vow to keep it with you at all times; have a piece of him with you at all times.

You thank him and tell him it's nice, but all you can wonder is why he even wants you to remember him in the first place. Maybe you're overthinking. He probably just didn't care for the useless accessory anymore.

When you turn to leave, Jungkook stops you with a gentle call of your name. He turns his head in your direction, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything." You whisper back, praying you don't sound overly desperate for a more extended interaction with him.

A beat of silence passes, and just as he opens his mouth to respond, Somi is stomping up the stairs and belting out your name. You gaze away from Jungkook to glance behind you, listening as his sister shouts about doing each other's makeup.

"Never mind, actually. It's not important." Jungkook interrupts, and you physically feel your heart sink to the floor.

You're about to be annoying and pry a response out of him until your eyes dart to his floor, and you see it. What slipped out from his drawer when he tossed the bandana at you.

A condom wrapper. An empty one, at that.

It's embarrassing how quickly your vision becomes glossy, salty tears threatening to release with each passing second. Of course, he's fucking someone. Of course, that person isn't you. Of fucking course.

You shouldn't be surprised; he's probably more into girls with a similar aesthetic. She's probably covered in tattoos and piercings, just like him. She's probably older than you and may even have her own car, unlike you, who still had to catch rides with your parents or older sister.

It's odd, though. You're not entirely naive; you know Jungkook definitely flirts with you here and there, catching his eye when his gaze lingers on you for a second too long. There's a noticeable tension between the two of you that even your parents have teased about. And this whole time, he's been screwing someone else?

Jungkook hangs out with so many girls it'd be useless to even attempt to uncover who this mystery person is. It's none of your business, anyway.

So you leave.

You tell Somi you'll get grounded if you're home past curfew, and with tear-stained cheeks, you run home.

The following day isn't any easier.

Somi posted a photo on FaceBook of herself and Jungkook posing together, arms wrapped around each other, with the caption "c u l8r alligator XD". The comments are already flooded with responses wishing Jungkook farewell, some from family members or friends of the siblings.

"Don't 4get abt me!!!!!! >:( "from a girl with red hair catches your eye because it's the only one Jungkook responded to. You can't bring yourself to read his full reply, fingers moving to quickly close the tab after seeing the word 'Never.'

It's probably her, you think to yourself, the one he's sleeping with.

Maybe it's for the best that Jungkook's moving away; it'll give you some time to get over him.

And you most certainly did.

The only time he ever crosses your mind is when Somi brings him up (which she rarely does) or when you pass by his empty bedroom. Deep down, you know you'll always care for Jungkook on some level, but time away from him was just what you needed. You were too attached to him for no fathomable reason, rejecting any guy interested in you with the premise of being loyal to a guy who didn't even want you. He'd probably been sneaking girls in through his window, with you a few doors down doing magazine quizzes with his sister; blissfully unaware of what was happening down the hall.

You’re better off without him.

That's what you've been telling yourself daily until now. It's the start of summer vacation, and Jungkook's been summoned home to spend it with his family before Somi (and you) transfer to the University of San Francisco.

Jungkook was hesitant about coming home, as he always is. In constant fear that his parents have some elaborate plan for him to change his major or set him up with someone they deem acceptable, nothing like the girls he hangs around and probably invites back to his dorm.

It took days of convincing until Jungkook finally agreed to come home, under the premise that his parents' intentions were pure and that they simply wanted one last summer together before Somi moved away for college. They also hoped he'd be able to house-sit and watch over Somi for a few days as they took their annual anniversary trip to San Diego. That, however, took some bribing and the promise of gas money on their end.

He's not due to arrive until tomorrow morning, and you've convinced yourself there's no reason for you to see him right away. You'd be fine if the next time you saw him was in a few months as you're moving into your dorm. After years of longing, you've finally moved on from him.

Some of you have debated telling Somi about your past feelings for her brother, but there's no point. It was a one-sided relationship with absolutely zero depth, nothing worth discussing. So when she nudges your side and asks if you're interested in anyone, you reply with a shake of your head.

Somi has no reaction to this; she can't remember the last time you've been into anyone despite having the entire male population at your school practically throwing themselves at you. "Maybe you'll meet someone tonight."

She's referencing the house party you're going to, which she practically had to drag you out of your room to attend. Parties are different from your scene, especially on a day like today when you were hoping to have a girls' night with Somi. She had other plans, however.

"Maybe," you respond, sighing as the house you're attending is finally in your viewpoint. "We're not staying long, right? It looks packed."

Cars are parked throughout the street, one house, in particular, being the center of attention with loud music and drunk people decorating the front yard of a suburban-looking home. Somi looks as ecstatic as ever, looping her arm in yours and picking up her pace. She doesn't respond. It doesn't matter. Her response would've disregarded your concern.

One car catches your eye as you enter the unfamiliar house; it's parked towards the end of the street, and you swear you've been in it before. You're not able to dwell on it for too long, though, because Somi has to practically yank you through the front door.

Your nerves are at an all-time high. The music is entirely too loud, and there isn't a single sober person in sight. You're not sure how Somi even found out about this party, but you really wish she would've left you out of it. You'd go now if it were acceptable, but Somi would've stayed regardless, and you refuse to leave her alone. So, you push your feelings to the side and take her hand as she leads you towards the kitchen.

"Thirsty?" Somi questions, forcing a red solo cup into your hand.

"Not at all," you respond, sighing as Somi pours something into your cup.

"It's just ginger ale," she reassures you, "I don't think either of us should get drunk here." For once, she's being reasonable.

Somi suggests you do a lap around the house in hopes of running into people you may have gone to school with. And to your surprise, a decent amount of your past classmates have decided to attend. You feel more at ease with them around, a bit more comfortable now that you're around recognizable people. Although you initially hesitated to show up, you're glad you did.

"Anybody catch your eye yet? Or are you still breaking hearts?" Your old classmate, Yeoreum, questions.

You shake your head, about to explain that you're not interested in dating right now, until she gestures behind you. "That guy is pretty cute."

You shift on the couch, looking around until you spot who Yeoreum had been gesturing towards. You locate him finally, and she's right; he is cute. He just seems so familiar.

That's when it hits you.

"Oh my God," you whisper, eyes locked on him, and you slowly rise from the couch.

It's Jungkook. And the car you recognized was his. He's here. What is he doing here? He isn't due to be back until tomorrow morning.

You almost don't realize it's him until you spot the mole under his lip. He's grown his hair out and stopped dyeing it, the slew of tattoos that decorated his arm (God, did he start working out, too?) nicely connected, now creating a sleeve, and he's given himself an eyebrow piercing. Your feelings for him come rushing back in full force.

Panicked, you reach for Somi's hand, but she's nowhere to be found. Careful not to be seen by her brother, you bow your head slightly, passing through a crowd of sweaty bodies until you finally spot her kitty heels. She's leaned against a wall, swirling around her cup while flirting with some guy you'd seen around school a few times.

Creating some much-needed distance between the two, you tug Somi towards you. "I think I just saw your brother."

"What? No, he won't even be in the city until tomorrow morning."

Frustrated, you quickly search the crowd until your eyes land on him again. You ignore the fact that he's now speaking to some girl with red hair and tattoos scattered across her arm and point in their direction, "Well, then that guy looks just like him."

Somi squints her eyes in disbelief at the boy in question until the doubt becomes confusion, and the confusion becomes realization. "Oh my God! The fuck is he doing here?" She turns towards you as if you're supposed to have the answer.

"The fuck should I know? You said he wouldn't be here until tomorrow morning!"

"Because that's what he told our parents! How was I supposed to know he was gonna be here? I never would've come if I knew!"

"What are you guys doing here?" A voice you haven't heard in so long interrupts. You don't even want to turn around.

"What are you doing here?" Somi throws back, and the two stare at each other in angry silence for a moment until Jungkook steps to the side. "Upstairs," he says, nodding towards the staircase.

"But—"

"Go."

Somi's clearly aggravated but makes her way towards the stairs. You remain in place with your arms crossed, raising a brow in confusion when Jungkook looks at you. "What?"

"You too."

"I'm not—"

"I'm not asking again," he says simply. You convince yourself that you only take his command because you don't feel like fighting. Definitely not because it's interesting to have him boss you around.

Trudging up the stairs behind Somi, you wait with her in the hallway until Jungkook arrives. "Come on," he says, entering a bathroom and turning the light on. Neither you nor Somi protest; there really isn't any point.

As soon as the door is shut, Somi is yelling at the top of her lungs. "What the fuck are you doing here?! You said you wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning! Mom and Dad had to push their trip back just to give you more time to arrive, and you're already fucking here?! The fuck is the matter with you?!"

"I'm not gonna respond if you're gonna be yelling like this." Jungkook says calmly, leaning against the sink, "Let me get my questions out first, then I'll answer any of yours, deal?"

Somi glances over at you, sitting on the bathtub's edge, and you nod. She returns her attention back to Jungkook, takes a deep breath, then agrees.

"Now, what are you guys doing here?! How'd you even get invited?! And you're drinking?!" The calm demeanor from earlier slips away in a matter of seconds, clearly a hoax just to get Somi to calm down enough to let him speak.

"It's just ginger ale, and we've barely even had any! We were invited by our friends, okay? We have just as much right to be here as you do."

Jungkook scoffs, clearly unamused. "Right, and I'm assuming Mom and Dad know you're here then, huh?"

Somi nervously tucks a hair behind her ear. You wonder why you even have to be in here with them. It's not like Jungkook is your brother, anyway.

"We told our parents that we were going to a birthday party at a friend's house." Somi mumbles, barely able to look Jungkook in the eye.

"And what did they say when they dropped you guys off?"

"They didn't drop us off," you interrupt, "we walked here."

"Well, I wasn't gonna tell him that." Somi glares at you, it takes every bone in your body to not to laugh at her.

You're so over this. You didn't want to attend this dumb party in the first place, and seeing Jungkook flirting with some girl who could've been his female counterpart was the icing on the cake. It doesn't matter if your feelings for him were gone before tonight; every little emotion you'd felt for him over the years had returned (as if they ever left).

"And how exactly did you two geniuses plan on getting home?"

"Same way we got here."

"Can you please just let me handle this? Jesus Christ…" Somi shoots another frustrated glare at you, and you can't help but roll your eyes at her. She turns back towards her brother, "Can you answer my questions now?"

Jungkook's eyes anxiously dart around the cramped bathroom, landing on you a few times before he's slowly nodding his head. "Alright, Mom and Dad basically forced me to spend the whole summer here, and I kept asking myself why they were so persistent about it. They finally told me they needed me to watch over you and the house for their stupid trip. I had plans too, you know? That I had to derail for them. My band could've spent this summer touring, making real money, and now we can't. So, they wanna inconvenience me? I'll inconvenience them right back."

"…Inconvenience them by doing what?" Somi asks the exact question you had.

Jungkook shrugs, "By telling them I'm gonna be arriving a day late, duh."

You and Somi exchange an awkward glance at one other before silently agreeing not to tease him about it. If this was his badass way of retaliating, who were you to rain on his parade?

"Are you gonna tell anyone you saw us here?" Somi questions, a noticible tremble in her voice.

"As long as you guys don't tell anyone you saw me."

It's a fair trade, you accept it. You're even more delighted when Jungkook says he's taking the two of you home. Somi, however, isn't too happy about this, claiming there were so many people she didn't get to speak to, and how'd this be the last time she'd get to see them before moving away for school. You're not sure if Somi is really good at getting what she wants, or if Jungkook was tired of hearing her complain, but he finally gives in and grants her ten more minutes to socialize before meeting him at his car.

"If you're not at my car in ten minutes, I swear to God I'm calling mom." Jungkook scolds, holding the bathroom door open as the three of you finally exit.

A loud, drunk voice suddenly shouts, "Woah, Jungkook! Two girls at the same time!? You fucking beast!"

"They're my sisters, you fucking pervert!" He shouts back.

You can't even dwell on how disgusting the original comment was, only being able to focus on the fact that Jungkook just reffered to you as his sister. As conceited as it may sound, you're not used to rejection or guys putting you in the friend-zone. Whatever little game Jungkook had been playing with you over the years was completely new territory. And right when you think things couldn't possibly get any worse, he calls you his sister.

What the actual fuck.

The next ten minutes go by in a blur; Somi has ditched you for a second time that night to talk to the guy from earlier. When it's finally time to leave, you find her Sat on his lap with her arm hung across his shoulder, laughing at an unfunny pickup line he'd used on her.

"It's time, Somi," you interrupt, helping her stand.

"Wait, wait, wait," she persists, directing her attention back to the boy, "tomorrow at five, right?"

"And not a second later." He sends her a disgusting wink that makes your skin crawl.

Somi is so love-struck you're surprised there isn't an arrow lodged in her back. She can barely form a proper sentence, erupting into a fit of giggles every few seconds as you make your way to Jungkook's car. "Wasn't he just gorgeous?"

You shrug, linking arms with her. "He was alright."

Stunned, Somi gasps at you, "Just alright? He was literally like a Greek God."

"I'm not saying he's unattractive; he's just...not really my type."

"And what is your type, Miss. Never-Has-Been-Interested-In-Anyone?"

Now, there's the question of the hour. You have to word your response very carefully; don't be too obvious about the fact that your ideal type is her older sibling.

"I guess I prefer guys with an edgier look to them, you know? Tattoos, piercings..." Despite your attempt to sound as nonchalant as possible, your heart is beating out of your chest from the mild confession.

Somi snickers, then playfully groans. "It sounds like you're describing my brother."

Now, you really have to test the waters.

"Since you brought him up, would it be so bad if I did like Jungkook? Hypothetically speaking, of course." You're not sure what prompts you to even ask this. It's not like he's even interested in you; he literally just referred to you as his sister.

A beat of silence passes as Somi gathers her thoughts, then she says, "No."

"What?"

You've finally reached Jungkook's car at this point, beating him there. You sit atop the trunk, feet hovering above the ground as the cold, nighttime air swirls around you. Somi shakes her head, "Obviously, it wouldn't be the ideal situation, but I guess I wouldn't mind as long as you talked to me about it first."

"First?" You mimic.

"Like...assuming you'd wanna date him or something. Just so I'm not blindsided, you know?"

This is the last thing you would've expected your impulsive, hotheaded (yet oh-so-loveable) best friend to be reasonable about. Mainly because she lectured you for nearly twenty minutes when she first suspected you had a crush on Jungkook.

You go to respond, but Jungkook, finally arriving at the car, captivates both of your attention. He finishes off his can of Pepsi before crushing the aluminum and tossing it to the ground. "Ready?" He questions.

There's no point in giving him a speech about littering; you're just ready to go home.

He fishes his keys from his pocket and unlocks the car door; Somi opens the backseat and jumps in before you have the chance, sprawling across the aged leather. "Move over," you nudge her foot with your knee; she pulls away from you.

Jungkook calls your name, "Just sit up front. She's not gonna move."

Now, this is new. You've ridden in the backseat of his car with Somi more times than you can count; he'd never allow either of you to sit shotgun with him; typical annoying older brother bullshit.

Don't make a big deal out of this, you say to yourself, climbing into the passenger seat of his car.

Somi and Jungkook bicker the entire ride to their parent's house, partially out of annoyance with each other, but you also get the feeling that neither of them were genuinely ready to leave the party. You're surprised Jungkook even enjoyed parties; he spent most of high school either working, hanging out at skate parks, or practicing with his band in their garage. College must've really changed him, and you're unsure how to feel about it.

Jungkook parks a few houses down from their parent's house and unlocks the doors, "Get out," he says into the backseat.

"Where are you gonna spend the night?" Somi questions, stretching her arms outward.

"I checked into a motel this morning. I'll be back here tomorrow around noon. And, hey," Jungkook turns around, pointing a finger at his sister. "Don't tell them you saw me."

Mockingly, Somi points a finger right back at him. "Telling them I saw you would be exposing myself, cock-sucker. Leave me alone." She angrily begins to climb out of the car, annoyed at how little trust Jungkook had in her.

You turn to go, but Jungkook's cold hand on your bicep stops you, "Where you goin'?"

"I'm gonna walk home from here. It's only a few minutes away," you respond.

Jungkook shakes his head, "I'm dropping you off. You haven't moved since I left, right?"

"No, but it's fi—"

"Then your house is on the way to my motel. We're going in the same direction; might as well ride together."

It truly does make more sense to ride together, and rejecting his offer any further surely would raise suspicions. You don't want either of them to believe you'd feel uncomfortable being alone with Jungkook because that couldn't be farther from the truth. You're perplexed about your feelings now, and you don't want to do anything you'd regret just because of the confusion.

"Okay, then." You glance over your shoulder at Somi, "Will you need any help getting ready for your date tomorrow?"

Suddenly embarrassed, Somi shushes you, gesturing that Jungkook is literally right next to you and would prefer that he didn't hear about her dating life. Jungkook genuinely couldn't care less and is instead patiently waiting for his sister to get out.

She does finally, and Jungkook resumes his path to your house. He turns the radio on, switching between stations until he stops on one that's playing a song he's familiar with. You drive silently for a few minutes; the only sounds being heard are the distant noises from the car's motor and Jungkook humming along to the radio.

He breaks the silence by saying, "I was surprised to see you back there. You never really seemed like the type to enjoy parties."

You chuckle, "I could say the same for you; I don't remember you attending any in high school."

"That's 'cause house parties weren't my thing," he explains, "I went to raves or parties that would happen at the skate park. I don't really like being at someone else's house for too long; it feels too intimate."

Now that you think of it, skate park parties and raves seem much more like his scene.

"Well, I only went because Somi was going, and I didn't feel comfortable with her being there alone. Otherwise, I never would've gone." You admit, resting your head against the window.

"Thanks for looking after her, by the way. You're a good friend."

"I'd do anything for her." Your voice is barely a whisper now, getting quieter with every word you say.

Silence passes, and he says, "Did you know your guys' dorm room is gonna be right under ours?"

"Seriously?" You respond, genuinely curious.

"Mmm-hmm. My roommate, Mingyu, and I are gonna be the worst upstairs neighbors ever." He teases as you roll your eyes. Your mind can't decipher whether this banter is playful & platonic or romantic. Everything Jungkook does confuses you.

"If that's the case, I'll be sure to move to an entirely new building."

"What, so you can have your boyfriend protect you?"

Pause. Boyfriend?

You nearly give yourself whiplash from how hard you spun around to look at Jungkook. "Boyfriend?" You ask.

He shrugs nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road. "I just assumed you'd have one by now. Do you?"

There he is again with his mind games. What the fuck was he talking about?

After letting out a very frustrated sigh, you mumble, "No, Jungkook, I do not have a boyfriend."

"Good. Focus on school."

Now he's pissing you off. You wish he'd shut up for the rest of the car ride. "It's nice to see you again, by the way."

Holy shit, you feel like jumping out the window.

"Yeah, great seeing you too. Oh, there's my house. I can walk from here." You make quick work of undoing your seatbelt.

"You sure? I can drop you off at the door."

"No, no. It's best if my parents don't see you so they don't accidentally tell your parents that they saw you." You lie, racking your brain for any excuse imaginable.

He nods, deciding it's best to drop you off a little further from your house. "Then, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"What?" You stop dead in your tracks, one hand clutching the door handle.

"Aren't you coming over tomorrow to help Somi get ready for her…thing? I'll be back home by then."

He's right; you'd be back in his house, and he'll be there this time. It's no big deal. You'd only be there for an hour (at most) to help her prepare, and then you could go the whole summer without seeing him again.

"Yeah, I'll see you then."

The following day, Somi is back to her unreasonable self, expecting you to wait at her house for her to return from her date.

"Please? We're just going to get pizza; we won't even be gone that long." She pleads, adding the finishing touches to her makeup.

You'd already spent over an hour helping her prepare, and now she expects you to do nothing but await her return. You know her heart's in the right place; she just wants to be the first to hear all the exhilarating details about her date. Still, a phone call would suffice.

"What am I supposed to do while I wait for you to come back?" You whine.

"Just hang out here! Watch a movie or something!" She suggests, trying her absolutely hardest to sound enthusiastic. Her phone buzzes in her hand before she has the chance to continue, eyes lighting up as they flicker across the bright screen.

Somi clutches her phone, locks eyes with you, then rushes towards the door. You're faster, though, quickly capturing her wrist before she's barely reached the hallway. "I'm going home."

"No! If you stay here, I'll bring you back pizza, and we can have a girls' night like we were supposed to yesterday! Come on, please?" She begs, pouting her lips.

You go to reply, but the bathroom door swings open, and Jungkook strides out. Just to your luck, he's shirtless; water droplets descend from his hair as he towel-dries it. As he enters his bedroom, he mocks his sister's high-pitched whine, earning a lethal glare and a slew of swears thrown at him.

Perhaps you should stay.

"Fine, but you're lending me your pajamas." You give in, earning an enthusiastic shriek from your best friend.

Somi wraps you in a brief, yet tight, hug before shouting, "Be back soon!" Then she's rushing down the stairs and out the front door. It's not often that Somi makes you wait for her return, but you absolutely despise it whenever it does occur. She's never back by the time she promises and gets upset when you try to call and check up on her.

And speaking of calling, you're sure your phone is dead by now. You insisted Somi bring her's along just in case, so you're left with one option.

Jungkook's door is wide open (as usual) when you go to knock. He's fully clothed now, pairing his black sweatpants with a matching black t-shirt. His hair appears mostly dry now, chaotic as ever, but dry. You don't think he's ever looked this good before.

He's sat on his bed, flipping through the latest copy of Rolling Stone when you arrive. He glances over at you and lets out a dry chuckle.

"What's so funny?" You ask.

"You're dressed like Bella Swan." He responds casually, eyes raking up and down your body.

"Who?"

"From Twilight. You know, that new movie that came out?" He seems genuinely surprised that you don't seem to know anything about this movie, not even the name of (who you suspect to be) the main character.

You lean against the doorframe, "Haven't seen it."

"It's a great movie, seriously. Some friends and I are seeing it in a few days if you and Somi wanna come." He suggests, flipping another page in the magazine.

You let him know you'll ask Somi if she's interested before remembering why you came to his room in the first place and ask if you can borrow his phone charger. Jungkook directs you to where it's plugged up by his desk, and you finally have the chance to stroll further into his room. You can't recall the last time you've been in here, but you know it looks much different than before. Many of the band posters that decorated the room were gone, his random trinkets and piles of clothes were gone, and not a single piece of his CD collection was in sight. It felt so lifeless, so unlike him. No wonder he always dreaded returning home; it probably didn't even feel like home to him.

"So," you say, attempting to break the silence, "you're here for the whole summer, huh?"

"Unfortunately." He mumbles, "Gonna try and go by sooner, convince my parents I have to sort out an issue with my dorm or something."

"It's nice to have you back, though." You admit, watching as Jungkook's gaze locks on yours.

"Yeah? It is?" He questions.

You shrug, "Of course. We practically grew up together; it was weird to not see you all the time."

He sits up now, closing the magazine and tossing it on his nightstand. There's something on his mind that he isn't saying; you can tell from the way his brows knit together and how he's anxiously tugging on his lip piercing. "It was weird to be gone," he mumbles and leaves it at that.

"By the way, I'm sorry about last night." He apologizes.

"For what? Calling me your sister?"

He laughs at this, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to do that on purpose, by the way. That guy was just...so weird, I kinda blurted out the first thing that would've made him feel weird for even thinking that."

Oh. That makes sense. You definitely overreacted.

"I meant," he continues, "I'm sorry if the whole boyfriend assumption thing upset you."

"Oh," you dismissively wave a hand at him, "that was nothing."

Jungkook raises a brow at you, "Are you sure? 'Cause you seemed pretty upset afterward, you were practically running out of my car."

There's no point in lying now, considering you weren't even the slightest bit discrete the previous night.

"If I'm being completely honest, I just felt a little awkward. But that's it, I swear." You assure him, moving to lean against the bedside table.

"Awkward about what?"

God, this was so embarrassing. Is he really going to make you humiliate yourself like this?

"Because I've never actually had a boyfriend before."

Jungkook looks genuinely shocked at your confession, eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he examines yours for any sign of deception. "You don't believe me?"

"I'm not sure. I only assumed you had one just based on how crazy guys were about you in high school. Not to mention you're, like, fucking gorgeous."

What?

"I'm what?" You ask, not entirely sure if you heard him correctly.

He repeats himself again, and you make him do it a few more times until he's too embarrassed to say it again. You somehow manage to get back on the topic of never having a boyfriend before when Jungkook asks you another question. "Have you ever...?"

He doesn't need to finish the sentence. You know what he's asking.

You shake your head.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business." He berates himself, and you assure him it's no big deal and that it shouldn't even be a shocker to him.

After a half hour of talking about whatever comes to mind, you wind up sitting opposite Jungkook on his bed, legs perched up underneath your body as you go back and forth, questioning one another.

"So, when are you gonna admit you had a crush on me?" His voice is barely a whisper.

"I never did." You lie.

"Really? That sucks?"

"Why?"

He shrugs, leaning his back against the headboard. "I just always thought that maybe you and I would've ended up together at some point."

You don't remember who leans in first; it doesn't matter; all that matters is after years of longing, your lips are finally intertwined with his. He must've smoked today; you can taste the nicotine on his breath. But it doesn't matter; you don't make the slightest move to pull away. Neither does he, placing his hands on the small of your back to guide you onto his lap.

Your body is moving on autopilot, limbs moving to do whatever feels right as you silently pray not to ruin the moment. Jungkook can spot your nervousness from a mile away and stop you, "We don't have to do—"

"I want to," you pant, breathless, "I've wanted this for so long."

"Do you trust me?" He asks.

"More than anything."

He kisses you again before adjusting your current position, slowly twisting yourselves until you're lying flat on your back. He moves his lips down towards your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his path as he settles between your legs.

You reach up to grab a handful of his hair, nearly jumping out of your skin as his delicate fingertips creep up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer until his ghosting over your clothed pussy. "This okay?" He mumbles.

You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. "Cute," he replies, "you're already so wet." His fingertips stroke your clit through your damp underwear; you don't think to wonder how he managed to get to it so quickly, all thoughts leaving your brain as he makes small circles using his middle and index finger.

"Jungkook…" You moan, pleading for him to do more.

"I know." He assures you, using a single finger to pull your panties to the side, making just enough room for him to slide a finger into your aching cunt. "Am I really your first time?"

You nod again out of fear that a moan would slip from your lips if you even tried to speak. His eyes are locked on yours, studying your expression as he coaxes a finger inside you. You're embarrassed at how quickly your wetness coated his finger, but Jungkook doesn't care. He likes it, makes him feel fucking amazing knowing the effect he had on you.

"Take your shirt off." He says, and you do as told, pulling your top up and off your body and tossing it to the floor; making quick work of undoing your bra before he even has the chance to ask.

His lips are back on your neck instantly, trailing down to your collarbone until he reaches the curve on your breast. He halts his actions momentarily before your pitched nipple is caught between his teeth and your back arching off the bed from how overstimulating everything feels.

You curse under your breath, and Jungkook makes another comment about how cute you are, though you feel far from it. He apologizes by lapping his tongue around your nipple, easing the pain slowly as he inserts a second finger into your cunt.

You can feel his bulge against your thigh, though he doesn't even care about getting himself off. He moves over to your nipple, licking and sucking until it's completely hardened, leaving himself breathless. The two fingers that had been working your cunt had picked up the pace now, and there was an unfamiliar feeling in your gut that you couldn't identify.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…" You groan, legs trembling.

Jungkook is all too familiar with these actions and asks, "You're already close? I've barely done anything to you." He teases, chuckling to himself.

You know he's being lighthearted, but you can't help but feel embarrassed at the tears forming in your eyes from how good everything feels.

Suddenly, he's pulling his fingers out of you, and now you feel like crying for a different reason. You go to protest but stop to watch as he takes his shirt off. If you weren't sure then, it's obvious now he'd started attending the gym.

He makes quick work of tugging his sweatpants down his legs, tossing them into the abyss before reaching into his bedside table and retrieving a condom. "You're okay?"

You nod.

"Use your words."

“I’m okay, Jungkook.”

"You're still okay with this?"

"Yes."

"You sure?"

Jesus fucking Christ, the saint this man is.

"I'm positive." You assure him.

You move to pull down your skirt and underwear, but Jungkook catches your wrist. "Leave them on," he says. There are so many things going on that you choose not to question.

He pulls off his boxers in the meantime, hardened cock slapping against his abdomen with precum leaking from the tip. Though you had nothing to compare it to, Jungkook was obviously slightly larger than average. You shouldn't be surprised; it's always the guys that you'd least expect.

He tears the condom wrapper with his teeth, retrieving the rubber inside before tossing the remains to his floor. Despite being fully erect, he fists his cock a few times before sliding the condom on.

He crawls over you, left arm at the side of his head, while he uses his dick to nudge your panties to the side. "This still okay?"

"I already told you—fuck!" He cuts you off, the tip of his cock slowly making its way inside you. You feel so stretched out from this alone you don't know how you'd manage to fit all of him into you.

Jungkook must be feeling the same, swearing under his breath and commenting about how tight you feel around him. Second by second, he coaxes himself into your pussy until you feel like you could split right open. "Are you all the way in?"

"No, can't take anymore?" He asks, leaning his head down against your ear.

You're embarrassed to admit he's too big to handle on your first time, but it's the truth. You don't want to overextend yourself just to please him and end up hurting yourself.

"You can move, just…not too much. Please."

Jungkook nods, "Whatever you want, angel."

He pulls his hips back and rocks himself back in, being sure to ask if you're okay with his pace. Once you confirm you feel fine and want him to keep going, he continues his movements; his eager hips snapping against yours and his cock hitting your G-spot with each deep stroke. You feel like you're on cloud nine, hands tangled in his hair as he swallows your moans.

That unfamiliar feeling from earlier returns; you feel it through your entire body this time. A moan of his name escaping your lips lets him know you're close. How he can always sense these things is beyond you; it's not worth overthinking.

"Close?" He asks, and you nod frantically.

Jungkook picks up his speed slightly, careful not to overwhelm you, but just enough to reach your climax, until finally, the bundle of nerves in your abdomen snaps, and your back is arching off the mattress as you come around his cock.

He's only a few seconds behind with his orgasm, erupting in a loud grunt when he finally reaches it. The two of you lay in silence for a moment before Jungkook finally pulls out of you and slides the condom off, tying it in a knot and tossing it into his trash bin.

"Are you okay?" He asks for what feels like the millionth time.

"I'm fine." You respond, and it isn't a lie. Physically, you feel terrific; mentally, it was an entirely different story. "Are you?"

"I'm good, I'm good."

As much as you would love to lay naked with Jungkook in his bed for the rest of the night, you know Somi will be home anytime soon. "I think I'm gonna go wash up."

He nods, crawling under his covers once you stand from his bed, tugging your skirt to its proper length as you search for your remaining clothing. "Oh, it's um…your shirt, it's over there." Jungkook awkwardly gestures towards a pile of clothing by the end of his bed.

Almost as quickly as you shred yourself of them, you snatch your clothing and bundle them up against your chest.

"Listen, I know right now isn't really ideal, but I meant what I said about liking you, and really think we should talk." He says nervously, barely even able to look at you.

You almost want to laugh at how cute he is; instead, you agree to talk to him about it soon. You're about to head out into the hallway when Jungkook reminds you about your charging phone over by his desk.

You retrieve it and scan the area again, ensuring you haven't left anything else behind. When everything seems clear, you stand upright, but your eyes fall toward the trash bin near his window with the discarded condom. You're embarrassed to even look at it until you realize something seems off. It looks…empty.

Now, you're no sex expert, but imagine that if Jungkook had finished, there'd be something to show for it in the condom. Right?

Did he fake his orgasm? Was this another one of his fucked up mind games you'd been subjected to?

You don't know what to think as you step into the bathroom; your emotions are all over the place, and all you really want to do is go home. But you promised Somi you'd be here when she returns, so you stay.

The next time a Jeon sibling asks if you're okay is twenty minutes later when Somi finally arrives and asks why your eyes are so watery.

"I'm fine." You respond, and you're lying for the first time that night.

#bts #bts imagines #bts smut #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook scnenario #jungkook smut #kpop imagine #kpop smut #kpop scenario

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die-auster · 2 months ago

Text

Some "if Yue is alive and went travelling with the Gaang" designs

With a ton of text about cultural inspiration.

The main book 2 look

I wanted to show cultural differences between the tribes, so Yue's look is sort of Mongolian. There were Mongolian-styled hats in the Northern tribe, and Yue's dress under the coat looked like a Mongolian deel (thanks @atlaculture for all these posts about clothes and everything else!), so it's not much against the canon information.

So she's wearing a deel again with a second layer - there are chinese actors on photos as far as I know; I hope it's okay. One-shoulder silhouette refers to later Aang's clothes because Yue is still kind of a spiritual person (she wasn't a fighter, so I want her to have some other useful talent – not a bender or healer like Katara or a non-bender warrior like Suki). Violet, pink and white were originally her colors, no changes here. Three blue characters would be too much for a group of five, and total white is not practical at all. I like to think that violet color shows high rank in the Avatar universe; in the original series it was only worn by princess Yue, Kanna, the chief Hakoda's mother, and by king Bumi.

Yue's boots here are mongolian gutals/gutuls (the collage is already big, but I used them again for one of Book 3-looks).

Her hair become simpler – just two braids and a hairpiece, to match her previous decorated hairdo. I guess if she's travelling with the Gaang she's not that much of a Moon Spirit anymore (maybe she returned the part of the moon spirit that saved her and was healed other way?), so I decided to forego the moon-referring part. Also it will be easier to do by herself since she has no servants now... The headdress I took from modern Mongolian dancers; the front part is crescent-moon-shaped.

The Ba Sing Se dress

I fell in love with this Ao Dai dress, it's simple, long and elegant. But... it's mostly Vietnamese… and I'm afraid that it's modern and not historically accurate. Also it does not really go together with other Ba Sing Se dresses :( because I did not want to just copy-paste some background look. But there is at least one dress with a tail, thigh high slits and a standing collar on the dress underneath, so... I guess my choice is not that bad? The tail makes her look more royal. The fan is the same which Toph and Katara had. For the palette I chose Yue's white color with EK greens and warm yellow/ochre to match Katara and Toph. The hairdo is copied from the series; I chose one with the tassel on the right, to refer the NWT/Korean accessories.

The Fire Nation disguise

A confession – I don't like FN clothes. I wasn't sure if I would be able to do it properly, so I almost copied that attire (left one) – asymmetry, as a Thai touch, which again matches Aang's Invasion Buddhist-like clothes. The palette keeps Yue's signature white, with some pink of a warmer shade, as they wear it in the Fire Nation. And the "royal" long skirt, 'cause she's still not a fighter. The look is simplified so I could not keep zigzag ornament on her longyi skirt, therefore I moved it onto the top part.

I used Thai dancers jewelry and... flip flops? idk how they are called in Southeast Asia (don't like Sokka and Katara's FN shoes at all, why the design is so complicated?).

For covering her hair I used a turban, inspired by Myanmar turbans; a white one, so if some hair will show, it won't be too noticeable. Also Yue could still be easily recognised on screen/page by her white head. The long end of the fabric on her right resembles burmese hairstyle silhouette.

The Invasion-and-till-finale look

For her dress I used a deel (again); the sleeveless jacket is an hommage to her original design and has some Korean vibes, like Toph's Ba Sing Se dress (at least I hope so). Katara and Sokka's season 1 looks have Korean influence, so I guess it's okay. Gutals are from her Book 2 main look. I have a soft spot for them.

My favorite thing is her hair :)))) It's a mix of Inuit/Mongolian braids and a hairpiece, also from the Book 2 look. This time there will be more braids. Two on the front – I wanted to keep them from her original hairdo, but now they are braided together (I saw this on the Alaskan Inuit/Eskimo women photos). On the back there are five, inspired by a Mongolian hairdo for young unmarried girls, who wore multiple braids. I decided to make five, because Alaskian Inuit language uses this amount for counting and with two front braids it'll make seven, which is a lucky Mongolian number. And in theory a limited number should be easier to animate.

The post-canon noble look

After the final battle I thought Yue will come back to Agna Qel'a and become a more active political figure. I chose a white kuspuk (blue color is still for Katara and Sokka), showing that she is ready to lead her tribe after this journey, not the passive perfect princess she was before. "She is associated in canon with the masculine yang of the yin and yang and the moon which, in most Inuit and Eskimo cultures, is considered masculine as well. While white kuspuks are associated with men and specifically family patriarchs, a feminine kuspuk in white makes plenty of sense for Yue's character" – @mostly-mundane-atla helped me a lot with the cultural meaning of the clothes (I am so grateful!). Also it's an hommage to her total-white Moon Spirit look. And I changed her hair again to Greenland updo with two tied braids on the front – more complicated than the simple braids she wore during the journey. It looks formal.

NWT is less Inuit-inspired and has a strong Mongolian touch (to make them look more "modern"? dunno) but I guess the formal wear for the spiritual princess could refer to older traditions. Which should be the same with SWT, 'cause SWT was originally a part of NWT – or so I heard. For example, Kuruk, the NWT Avatar who lived about 400 years ago, has nothing Mongolian in his look.

All the looks are simplified to match the style of the original cartoon. I know there should be more details and embroidery, but my goal here was to draw something (at least theoretically) applicable for animation. And no Hahn's betrothal necklace of course.

Also I want to mention here other great Yue designs, since they are the inspiration behind the overall idea of the post – the moon looks and "Yue joins the Gaang" outfits by amazingly talented @chiptrillino.

P.S.: an important note

This is my first attempt ever to design outfits that could fit the world of A:tLA. I am not Asian or ingenious, not an expert in their cultures or costume history at all, not a professional character designer. I am just a fan who tried to create designs with respect to real cultures and people. Nothing here was supposed to be offensive in any way. If something still is – please inform me so I could fix it as soon as possible.

I hope, as a fan, I have the right to draw fanarts looking for an inspiration in the cultures that inspired the original cartoon.

If you see mistakes in my post, be it in drawings or a text, also feel free to tell me. I will deeply appreciate it.

#avatar the last airbender #atla fanart #princess yue #yue #yue's alive #yue redesign #yue atla #yue avatar #all these links almost killed me...#i am a nitpicker #bad alt text #sorry i'm so done

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moonlesslights · 1 year ago

Text

Two Idiots in Love

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: Sex, P in V, choking, breeding kink, innuendos, Miguel it's fucking hard to talk to.

A/N: Hope you enjoy this, I haven't sleep well for three days trying to get it done, but it's finally here. Love y'all xoxox

━━━━━━✧❂✧━━━━━━

Ok, but what about you becoming an Spider just about a year ago?

You are managing just fine.

Things got nasty for a while, that’s true. Your uncle died, your new responsibilities caught up on you, you almost die fighting some bad guys on your first months… And now you just try to eat three times a day (sometimes it doesn’t happen), pray to get more than six hours of sleep and do good in college.

But then, out of fucking nowhere, just when you were making peace with what your life was now and who you are, your identity, your place in this big ass world where you were completely alone to bear this double life… This giant prick with sullen face and cheeks the size of the moon comes into your life to tell you you’re not alone, everyone here has experienced the same or worse, stop being so dramatic.

So, in a second, your protagonist moment turns to you finding out there were thousands like you out there. And your whole life goes upside down.

Because now you don’t have to protect and look out only for your Earth, your city; but everyone else’s too. You have to travel to the most craziest worlds you could’ve ever imagine and fight horrible creatures you couldn’t even conceive its existence. And to make things even worst, Mr. Wide Hindquarters took an special hold of you to help him out with anything he would be ‘to busy’ to do. Like inform new recruits about their missions, filling out reports, doing research either respecting to what he occupied in the laboratory or to some universe yet to be explored… Whatever he needed, you would be called in to do it.

Some Spiders told you you were lucky, not many could work that close to Miguel, let alone being in charge of so many things without screwing something up and getting ‘their head ripped’. Even Lyla tells you that you’re something special, specially on the hard days, that’s why Miguel trusts you so much. After that you would just smile tiredly at her, whispering it was okay. Then Lyla would go face Miguel and demand him with a raised eyebrow to give you a break.

You manage for a few months, surrendering yourself to this strange routine. And your even more strange companion.

Every day you walk in to his space, every day he is already there. You turn a personal mission to arrive before he does. You never make it. The man apparently didn’t sleep and you aren’t waking the fuck up at 3:00am to prove a point or find out. So you let it be as another mystery to be solved.

“Good morning.” You wave your hand at him, making your presence known with that. Sometimes between a yawn, sometimes still cleaning the sleepiness off of your eyes.

“Good morning…” He always adds your last name to his greetings. It makes you feel like you are being scolded. Most of the time he is at the tables, working through the screens; if he’s not there, he’s at the lab, measuring substances with the help of crystal clear instruments.

Without looking at you, he points with his chin to the steaming coffee under the express machine. Through the weeks he has learned exactly how you like it. The first ones he made you were exactly like his: Awful. That couldn’t be drinkable. But you thought it was nice of him to always have hot coffee for you, so you didn’t say anything. But the faces you made at every sip were worth a thousand words.

Now, as you drink today’s, you cannot avoid thinking how cute that big stoic man must look every morning pouring the exact amount of sugar and cream you like into the cup. Moving the liquid with a tiny spoon until is all mixed.

He doesn’t talk much.

No more than orders and “Go home” followed by a “Good night”. You let him be for the first weeks. Not your business. But after the first month you knew you would go crazy if you continued this way of living.

You needed to talk to him. You needed to make things less awkward. He was your only human contact sometimes for entire days, and you cannot stand the fact of barely talking to him.

You don’t have idea how does the term “coworkers” serves on his Earth, but in yours, Human Relationships are encouraged to happen for the sake of teamwork.

With that very idea well tangled on your mind, one of those long days, you take a deep breath, imagine him naked (which isn’t difficult to be honest), stare deep into the space and say:

“Sohowhaveyoubeen?” Squeaking as fast as you can.

Miguel stops whatever the hell he is doing and turns his head to the right, side eyeing you with a raised eyebrow. You don’t even look at him, continuing to fill the document in front of you with the most unstable smile he could have seen in his entire life. Then, he turns around again, coming back to typing into one of the screens. You almost think he has completely ignored you until he answers in another fast and neutral line:

“I’m good.”

You give him an acknowledging nod, smiling softly and returning to your duties.

You had never wished so much to be victim of a lost bullet. Like right now. Like right fucking now. Please.

For one more week you took another personal mission: making a question a day.

“How was your day?”, “Did you have breakfast?”, “How was yesterday’s mission?”… It would be a good day if you got more than a monosyllable for answer. It was embarrassing, really. And Lyla looking at you with a grimace made it ten times worst.

After that, you just came in the eighth day and remained silent, focused in finishing all your work as soon as possible rather than trying to make your prick boss to talk to you. You felt bad, actually. Maybe he just doesn't like to talk, maybe you were making him uncomfortable, maybe... Maybe he's just an arse. Yeah, that is probably the right...

"Hm? Uh, what... What is this?" You look up from your tablet, facing the broad of his back walking to the desk at the other side of the room. You raise an eyebrow at the small cardboard box in front of you, the one that Miguel just left there.

"Food." He says as answering the very question to the origin of the universe.

"For me?" You tilt your head and he looks at you like you were stupid. You frown. How were you supposed to know that, when he barely even looks at you?!

"I did too much." He explains. "... So I brought you some. You can throw it away if you don't want it."

You look down at the box again, watching it as the weirdest of things, and cannot help the little smile that creeps up to your lips. You knew Miguel didn't eat at the HQ cafeteria, since he owns an apartment close from here, so this was completely homemade. Hm, you never thought he was into cooking.

"Why can't I give it to someone else if I don't like it?" You respond with an easy smile, almost teasing him.

"Throw it." He sentences without even looking back at you.

You side eye Lyla at your left, who winks at you. This is a whole ass victory. And you and the little hologram girl knew internally Miguel did not like the day you decided to stop trying to talk to him.

"Thank you." You finally murmur. "I really appreciate it."

"It's just leftovers..."

You nod, pursing your lips and… Still smiling. Fuck it. It was obvious he was going to dismiss it with something like that.

None of you says anything else for the rest of the day, but you make the choice to keep trying on the small talk every day and Miguel, apparently, started to mess up the amount of ingredients for his meals and brings leftovers almost daily.

You continue with this new routine for another couple of weeks.

With the time passing, you gain more and more confidence to talk to the big guy. Most of the times he doesn’t engage in the conversation, it is just you saying your thoughts out loud and telling him everything about your life at college, 'till the point he has a personal beef with some of your classmates. I mean, he doesn’t say it but he surely grunts under his breath every time you mention their name.

Gwen did asked you at some point if he really listened to you or if he just... Left you. You wondered the same for exactly... two hours.

"... And I handed him my essay, right? And he looks at me and says: 'So are you going to tell me who is helping you with these or am I going to find out myself?' So I obviously told him nobody was helping me, I just like doing them. And he freaking threatened me saying that if he founds out he's going to fail me. Like... He doesn't even listens. Agh, he hates me..."

"Is the same one who got angry because you were late to his lecture about himself and his recently published book?" That was a week ago. And he remembered.

You nod, sighing. Miguel clicks his tongue, shaking his head with disapproval.

He might not be talkative (at least for now) but he listens to you. You have no doubt left about that. He may not say a single word while you drop a hundred for minute, but he would come the next day asking "How was the test?" or would know you have classes with that professor and add to his daily good night a soft "Good luck tomorrow." You even start catching him lifting the left corner of his lips when you drop a bad joke about all the things you need to get done by the end of the day or about something you heard on your way there.

You noticed it when certain Spider came in to a meeting, a Spider two days ago you and Miguel had gossiped about because you were told something by your friends on Wednesday, Miguel heard some more on Thursday and with a final comment you put the pieces together on Friday, looking at him with a wide proud open mouth as he shook his head with a soft chuckle. Talking to the Spider in question Miguel would turn to you with the most neutral and blank expression and you would still fight to hide your smile at the memory of everything you found out during the week. No one ever noticed and you liked it. Miguel liked it. It was like a private joke only the two of you could share.

"But what would happen?" This was the part Miguel didn't like. "Like, how would you know I would fuck up something?"

"You cannot give Noir a kaleidoscope." He sentences, giving you another raised eyebrow.

You were in the middle of the daily session of Instructive and Informative questions, according to Lyla and you. Miguel prefers to call them Destructive and Irritating.

After today's mission you had taken a particular soft spot fo the black and white Spider, to the misfortune of your boss. So the whole session has been about the long shot of taking special gifts from your dimension to him.

"But why? Really, what's the worst that could happen if I just give him a tiny little kaleidoscope?"

"Ay, Dios, dame paciencia... You already gave him a rainbow slinky spring toy, why do you keep insisting on gifting him more stuff?"

He fix his gaze on you as you lower your eyes down to your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. "... He just looks happy when he sees color."

Miguel sighs, pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

"I know, but every one of us needs to respect the natural order of our Earth. He shouldn't keep taking things with him that shouldn't be there, do you understand?"

"But..."

"No more 'but's'. I want those reports done by the end of the day." Miguel returns his eyes back to the screen in front of him, dismissing you just with that action. "Get to work instead of keep losing our time with this."

He hates the way you comply to his orders. Hates the way you leave the space beside him empty to go working at the other side of the room, where he can only see your back. He hates when you refuse him to see your face.

The human part in him hates the questioning sessions because they always end up with your heart too big for your own good, crushed a little bit more. The human part in him is what brings him closer to you after a few minutes, talking you through some trivial topics until he can convince you it is all not as bad a it seems, until you smile again when you insist it's okay, that you just needed a minute, that you understand. And he might o might not tell you can give Noir that fucking kaleidoscope if you want it so much.

But some deep and primal part in him whispers into his veins to walk up to you, take you by your jaw, forcing you to look up at him and order you you better not refuse your face to him one more single time again. That if he wishes to see your eyes, the curve of your nose or your lips, you better fucking show them to him... Every day. Every. Time. He. Wants. To.

He gets frustrated when he catches himself in the middle of those thoughts, of the drives. He has been able to control it magnificently 'till now. But he fears the day he won't.

For another while you enjoyed the 'leftovers' brought to you too. But it also came to happen the one day, they stopped being leftovers:

You yawn as you make your way to the exit of the lab, making sure your alarm for tomorrow is correctly scheduled, you can not afford another harsh look from your professors one more time. The building has fallen silent already; most of its ordinary inhabitants have already retired to their rooms or to their home worlds.

Miguel walks up to you from behind, watching you standing at the door. Neither of them managed to see even a ray of sun today. He didn't care, he had something much better to watch all day… But he can't help but sigh at the thought of taking it from you.

"Italian or Mexican?" You turn to look at him, barely catching what he said. Both of your brows furrow and he glares at you while adjusting the neck of his jacket on. "For tomorrow's lunch. You want me to bring Italian or Mexican?"

"Oh, uhm..." You widen your eyes, surprised by the consideration. Pursing your lips and squinting, you think about it for a second, but the only possible answer comes immediately after: "Mexican."

"Hm." He nods, fixing his eyes to the front again.

Both start walking now towards the exit of the building. You know you can open your portal to go back home now, but you refuse to do so. Miguel knows there's an exit on the other side of the lab that leads him to a closer path to his apartment, but he refuses to take it. Because you always take this one.

"It's getting chilly." You whisper, watching the first snowflakes of the season falling on the other side of the big windows in the lobby. Miguel hums in response. "I like it, though. The first month working with you I had to carry a fan with me everywhere. I am so sorry for the cost of the electricity bill back then."

Miguel tugs at one corner of his lips, but only that. You tilt your head, glaring at him for a second before you take two fast steps to put yourself in front of him. The poor man has to stick his feet to the floor to avoid knocking over you.

He frowns, confused, and you look up at him with those same eyes filled with determination you put on when you look at the cookies he always -purposely- leaves on top of the highest cupboard in his office. He could only describe it as the face of a master plan, because you would always come back with ideas to get them down without asking him for help. And he loved to play guess with what you would do this time.

"Smile for me." You ask as you were some kind of cameraman, and if he was confused before he's into a new level now.

"What?"

"Y'know..." You bring both of your index fingers to the opposite sides of your face and part your own lips into a simple smile, like showing him what he was supposed to do.

"I know what smiling is." He frowns. "Why do you want me to do it?"

You shrug. "I just... I would be really happy to see it."

Miguel's expression remains unfazed, but he prays to every God out there you can't listen how hard his heart jumped inside his chest when your words reached him.

He swallows. His eyes fix on you and he brings both of the corners of his mouth up, exposing bright teeth and two big fangs that brush on his lower lip in the most precious awkward smile you could have ever seen. His brows are drawn together and he looks like he's in pain, and you know that even if a fucking meteor crashed down in the city right now, you still wouldn't be able to look away.

You clear your throat and lament how his smile is gone as soon as it came. You brush your hand at the back at your neck, nervous, fucking ashamed of your imprudence. Miguel raises an eyebrow at your reaction.

"Thank you. That was nice of you." You smile, avoiding his eyes and solely focusing on the snow awaiting for you. "I'm sorry if it was unpleasant for you. I didn't mean..."

Your words get caught up in your throat when you suddenly feel the texture of fabric coming around your neck. You turn back to look at the front again only to find Miguel tugging his scarf on you, with his fingers making sure it hugged every part of your skin your sweater couldn't.

"Miguel, no. It's even colder here than on my Earth. You need this more than I do." You frown with a worried expression washing over your features.

"You'll come back tomorrow pretty early. And it's going to be cold." You could try and argue about you having your own scarfs to bring tomorrow with you, but his eyes tell you he is not asking.

"... Thank you."

Miguel laments the moment your turn around, laments the moment you don't look at him anymore. He is sure the smile from a minute ago hadn't been anywhere near one of his best, and yet your eyes shone with the light of all the moons he's seen in all of the Earths he has visited.

And as you do a little wave when you start walking away before entering your portal, Miguel waves back, slowly and with only two unsure swings of his wrist. It was enough to make you smile anyway. It was enough to keep him standing there even after you were long gone wondering what the hell he was doing.

When Miguel began to bring food made specially to share, you began to bring desserts from your Earth for him to try.

You both started having lunch together after you told him how tired you were of eating while standing. Don't get me wrong, when you first told him he 'offered' you to go eat at the cafeteria if you wanted it so much. But when he dismisses you for the second time the next day with a 15 minute break to go find somewhere to sit, you, instead, sit down reluctantly at the very center of his work space, just a few meters behind him.

Miguel has to do a fucking double take to make sure he is seeing right before turning around at you calmly crossing your legs on the floor and unboxing today's meal with abrupt and resigned movements.

"Could you be so kind as to explain to me what you are doing?" He tilts his head with amusement when you take the first bite of your food.

"Eating."

"Sitting on the floor?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Sitting on the floor." You nod.

"Care to explain why?" He crosses his arms, pursing his lips when you refuse to raise your eyes at him.

"... Because of you." You murmur, taking another unnecessarily aggressive bite.

"Elaborate, please."

You keep on looking down, chewing the morsel in your mouth. Miguel awaits for you with well known experienced patience. By now, he recognizes when you are mad at him or the world, he sees how you fight to keep calm inside of all of this mess, that's why he always tries to encourage you to talk out the things that bother you, because he's there, he can listen; because he likes the way you smile after you let it all out.

And maybe...

"I don't care about eat sitting comfortably at the cafeteria. I want to eat with you. So if you want to stay here be my fucking guest. I'm staying here too."

Because you were the only one who could throw a tantrum at Miguel O'Hara without flinching.

You have earned that right. You didn't know when, because you insist you don't throw tantrums at him; you're a college student, basically an adult, you don't do tantrums. And still...

"Fine, spoiled girl..." He sighs, walking to get his own little box from the table and then coming to close the space between the two with a few long steps. He sits down right beside you, imitating the way you're crossing your legs. "If you want to eat on the floor, we can eat on the floor."

"I'm not spoiled." You hiss, giving him a deadly side eye that puts on a soft, almost unnoticeable grin on his face. Lyla had made fun of him a few days ago about him spoiling you, but instead of getting on his nerves he took a liking for the nickname. And now you suffer the consequences of it all. "And we wouldn't be eating on the floor if you decided to go to the cafeteria for once."

"... I hate talking to people."

You sigh, nodding. That's exactly why you never push him to do anything of that sort.

"I know." You turn to look at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how he keeps his head low while eating. "Hey" You call for his attention, smiling. He blinks up to you, tilting his head. "It's okay." Your shoulder drops to his arm. "I like being here. I'm not stuck with you, you're stuck with me."

That makes his eyes catch a little bit more of light.

"Thank you." He whispers.

You stare at him for a second more and he fights to put all of the mess inside his head, his feelings, into his tongue... But he can't. You continue eating, and he knows you would never hold a grudge on him for it, and he's so thankful for that, for you being able to understand the way his actions speak when his words can't. But he still aches at the thought of never being able to tell you everything he wants.

The next morning you walk in to find out a new cleared space beside the screens with an elegant glass table and two chairs. It surely looked expensive, like everything he does and has, but for you, it's just the little corner where you can leave that particular cake from your Earth he seems to like so much, and then go to the laboratory to see the cake you seemed to like so much.

After two more weeks enjoying the day-to-day in the usual things in your life, you and Miguel got to a mission which revealed as the true calmness before the storm.

The anomaly you had fought was stronger than expected, more aggressive, more letal. Everyone had run lucky at least two times to escape from its claws, but you can still remember their closeness, the screams, the sirens at the distance. It all almost ends up with another canonic event altered.

"There's always a first time." Jessica had told you when you finally finished off the anomaly. She was worried about you, and you can't blame her. You haven't even registered how bad you were trembling until it was all over.

"Is there going to be a last time?" You replied, looking up at her with big eyes. And Miguel, only a few meters behind you, still trying to give some last orders to every Spider there, felt his heart breaking at the very sound of your words.

Nevertheless, thankfully, the universe remained perfectly fine and just a couple of hours later everyone was back home safely again. Most returned immediately to their Home Earths, but you, Miguel, Jessica, Lyla and a couple more had ten thousand things to do in the HQ before calling it a day.

"I thought I told you to go home an hour ago." Miguel points, coming from behind you.

You turn your head to look up at him and you can't not smile at the sight. The feeling of safeness that floods you when you see his huge figure entering any room hasn't wavered for a single second. He's still that solid ground you can always rest on when the world is to heavy to carry alone.

"I'm serious. What are you doing here?" He continues, grunting in pain when he drops his weight beside you. You turn to him, furrowing your brows in worry again. He had seen that expression in you so often today... And he hates it so much. "I'm okay. Just little scratches here and there."

You withdrawn your feet from the edge of the building where you had them hanging for an hour now and crawl your way to him, sitting down on your knees to try to be eye height with him.

Your right hand wanders to his bruised neck, there where the anomaly had left his horrible mark of the violence it brought within. You follow with your index the way the clotted blood draws on his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

"Does it hurt?" You ask.

"No." He responds in between goosebumps.

He loves the effect your touch has on him. He loves your little hands looking for him, tugging at his clothes to call for his attention, brushing against his when you pass him the tablet, documents, anything. He loves the busy days where he doesn't have time to eat, where he wouldn't eat if it wasn't for you sitting beside him as he works on the screens, you scrolling through your cellphone, taking little pieces of food with a spoon or a fork to bring them closer to his mouth so he could eat without even taking his eyes off the screen.

Ridiculous? Yeah. But he loved the intimacy within. The many forms your soft hands could soothe him.

But his? He hated them. He was scared of them. Their only use was to destruct, to tear flesh apart, not to...

"Show me." He asks, pointing with his chin at your left hand placed softly above your thigh.

"It's nothing."

"Let me see it." He insist and you carefully bring your arm up, placing your fingers against his when he holds out his hand for you. Your whole palm is bandaged, the work the doctor did on you was amazing, but he can still see dried blood on it.

He doesn't say anything when he finds your eyes on him, conflicted, hesitant. There is so much between both of you, so much unsaid, so much still to do. But he sees your doubt, he hates to be the cause of it. He stays still, but he wants to scream at you, to make your little head understand: "How can't you see?! Can't you see how much you mean to me?! You're the only thing in my mind when I'm fighting, because I know I have to win, I have to get out alive to see you again. Eres lo único por lo que mi corazón llama!... Can't you not hear it?"

Instead, the tips of his fingers brush on your skin, his eyes reflecting every single light of the city below.

"Come." It's only a whisper that leaves his mouth, and you need nothing more to jump into his embrace with a desperate sigh, immediately cuddling yourself up on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, looking for his warm.

Hold.

He loves to hold you.

His hands serve to hold you.

To hold you against him, to protect you from anyone who wants to rip you away from his arms. To keep you warm, to keep you safe, to let you know you're home.

"Aquí estoy." He whispers.

"I know." You reply.

You breath into his scent for a couple of minutes more, until the screams and the sirens fell low to the sound of Miguel's chest going up and down in a soothing swing, his breathing, turning into the only thing you could listen to.

By the time you got your head out of his neck, he was already waiting for you with a soft smile, smile that puts your attention on the deep cut on his lower lip.

"What happened?" You ask, carefully pulling from his flesh to see the whole extension of the wound.

He sighs, closing his eyes with embarrassment. "I bit myself during the fight."

You smile, shaking your head. Your fingernail taps against the right fang in question, testing the edge by gently pressing the tip into your fingertip.

"I hate them." Miguel breaths out. His eyes are now so dim that you struggle to say where are they looking at in the middle of the night darkness.

"Why?" You whisper, taking your finger back at his lip.

"Because I fear of them. I fear they'll hurt you like they hurt me."

You purse your lips and then take his hand placed on your hip, looking back at him with raised eyebrows.

"Is the same with these?"

He nods.

"They are made to kill. I have done so many horrible things with, caused so much damage and pain, I..."

"Did you know I'm scared of heights?" His trail of words stop at your interruption. You smile, looking down from the edge, turning away form him just a little. "Ironic, for a Spider. But I still fight with it every single day. I always get so sticky when I'm on top of a building for too long it's embarrassing but..." You raise your hand in front of him, waving your fingers with a playful smile. "I'm not sticky now. And that it's because you're holding me." You cup his face. "Those things you're afraid of, are part of the person I love. And I wouldn't change a single thing."

"Mi cielo..."

"I knew what I was getting into when I decided to love you, Miguel, so don't get all soft now. I'm not going anywhere..." You whisper. "Make me bleed."

He would be lying if he said he haven't thought about it, that he haven't succumbed to his most animalistic urges when alone in the privacy of his room, pretending it was you around his cock and not his fist. He wanted to bite, he wanted to fill you. And he wanted to tear apart with his bare talons anyone and anything that got in his way.

A part of him might be scared to hurt you, yes.

But a bigger part of him was actually scared of what he would do to keep you safe. Of what he's capable of... to keep you his.

He feels sorry for you when you cuddle against his chest in your sleep as he stands up and starts walking back inside the building, covering you with his jacket to protect from the cold wind of the city for when he swings back to his apartment with you in his arms.

He feels sorry for the innocence in your love.

Like a beast, that's what he was. A beast who loved the softness in your touch, the kind in your words. But cannot return the same love. The beast is possessive, jealous of the very air that caresses your hair. And it may act vulnerable only to you, letting you get as close to slaughter him, but knowing you'll place a kiss instead. The beast would hold you as his own treasure, a creature that must not be hurt, not even for his own hands. He would cut them off before.

He would cut them off from anyone before they touch you. For no one should ever touch what he decided, that very morning you asked how he had been, would belong to him.

AND EVERYTHING WOULD HAVE CONTINUED ON GOING SO SMOOTHLY... BUT THE DAAAAAAAAMN FINALS, ah, made their entrance.

You barely have time to sleep, to eat, to fucking breathe. Your levels of anxiety are higher than the HQ damn building and your brain is so overworked you cannot do more than what you're asked to in autopilot. You know that you're only going to be like this for approximately another two weeks, but your poor lover has suffered the last four days thinking you're sick, or sad, or worse... Mad at him. No, not in that order.

"Arañita..." He calls for you. Your hand moving over your notebook at one hundred km per hour concerns him.

"The reports are done. Peter from -5266 and Hugh from -1993 are out right now. They should be getting back at any minute. Anomaly #125 was sent to its original universe this morning." You push the tablet to him with your free hand without even looking up or slowing down your writing.

"Thank you, but..." He tilts his head, furrowing his brows. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I just need to get this done before four. By the way, can I leave early today? I need to study for tomorrow's test."

"Again? Didn't you have one yesterday?"

"Yes. We're on finals, Miguel. We tend to have a lot of them these days. That's why I'm losing my mind over here."

"Just for some tests?" You have to stop yourself to remind you it's not his fault to be smart. It's not his fault being more intelligent than almost every person you knew. It's not his fault he doesn't know what is to struggle on school. It's not his fault, It's not his fault, It's not his fault... "You haven't even touched your food." He says, looking at the little box he got you with the meal now cold.

"I... I know. I'm sorry, Mig." You sigh, looking up at him for the first time in the day. "I'm just really stressed out right now. But I promise I'll take it back home later, okay?"

This was also the fourth day you didn't stay at his place. My man doesn't want to be a burden, but he has attachment issues, ok?, and after the week you spent sleeping in his arms, it may or may not be that Miguel has been having trouble falling asleep without the weight of your body on his chest.

After watching you leave that day, Miguel found himself staying till unreasonable hours of the early morning working in the lab. There was no point on going back to his cold apartment anyway... And he had a lot of things to get done. He didn't have time to...

"Oh, it's you." Miguel jumps in his place at the sudden voice calling from behind. "I thought that poor girl had stayed here, with all the things she seems to be doing these days."

The man shakes his head, ignoring Jessica closing the distance behind him, leaning against the door frame. Miguel can almost make out the little smile on her lips without turning around, and that only infuriates him even more.

"And why do you look like a caged lion?" She mocks. "Trouble in paradise?"

Miguel's first instinct is snap back at her and ask her to leave him alone. He knows she would comply, what he doesn't know is how benefic that would be for his current situation.

"I don't know what's going out with her." He admits, letting his head fall in irritation. "She says she's having some tests right now, but she's just to... Stressed? I don't know. She's so smart I cannot conceive how bad this is affecting her." The laugh that emanates from Jessica's throat makes his ears go red. "What?"

"Oh, babe, when was the last time you went to college?" Jessica puts both of her hands on her waist, pursing the lips to avoid smiling again.

"Why is that important?"

"When, Miguel?" She demands.

"Ugh... I don't know. Like four-five years ago."

"When was the last time you failed a class?"

"Never." He immediately responds.

"When was the last time grades were important on your Earth?"

Miguel frowns. "I don't remember. The path for learning had changed long before I was born. I don't even think I ever had something like a grade. We were judged individually for our skills and our intelligence type. Not memorization."

"Exactly." She claps, pointing at him with a all-knowing finger. "Thanks to that you got the chance to develop your true abilities as a student, but our girl from 2023 it is not beneficiary of this privilege. She doesn't get the chance to strengthen in what she is good, she must memorize and memorize and memorize over and over again. Because the tests on her Earth aren't done with the purpose of just checking how is her knowledge progressing, they are done to see if she's worthy of continuing forward in her very career."

Miguel remains silent for a minute, swallowing all the new information by pieces. For someone so smart, Jessica has never see him seem so lost. The nuts in his brain begin to turn and turn until his eyes seem to light up with the clarity of the light of the new world.

"Hm." He nods. "Thank you."

The woman knows he doesn't need anything more when he turns around, typing into one of the screens something that escapes from her eyes.

During the rest of the two weeks of finals, Miguel tried to do his best to support you.

He even read all of the information about your education system, striving to understand everything in just a couple of nights.

He's a man on a mission: letting you know he's there, that you're strong and smart, and you can do it.

While you study in the lab, he leaves you be. He gets you coffee, or tea, or anything you prefer. He might even hiss at people entering his space (your space) making too much noise, pointing at you with his chin and threatening eyes.

"Hey, girl..." Peter B. comes in one morning, moving nervously under the scrutinizing gaze of your lover. "Don't be so harsh on yourself..." He gives you some awkward pats on the back, smiling. "You're doing great."

That was all it took.

"No, I'm not!" You weep, letting your head fall on the desk, shaking between sobs.

"Great. Ya la hiciste llorar." Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Here, give it to her." He calls for Peter's attention, handing him an specific chocolate.

Peter takes it with confused eyes, offering it to you, reaching out his arm as if he were to touch you, you'll explode.

"Here." He says. "Look what I got."

You raise your eyes, meeting the little packing. Then, when you look at him, Peter almost thinks he just made all worst.

"Oh, Peter... Thank you!" You take the chocolate, pulling from him to a big hug. "I love these so much, thank you! You're so kind!"

Peter lets you be, looking back at Miguel who just nods at him to let him know this wasn't his first rodeo. He pats your back, soothing you with some more nervous words until you're ready to let him go.

If you're really struggling, Miguel won't think twice to help you. He's smart, it takes him nothing more than a look to his old notes or a quick search on the internet (specially if you're studying something science related or an engineering, if you're on law or arts, oh boy, you're gonna make this man suffer) to know exactly what you need and make sure you're taking that fucking project tomorrow.

Some other days, he just catches you sleeping with your hands crossed above the table and your saliva drooling out to your notes. His jacket would then come over you, after, he would take your pending stuff and start solving problems and making notes for you to have it easier at the memorizing part of the study.

You always wake up to see the edges of your paper full of arrows, little equations and encircled key words. And, sometimes, a tired Miguel sleeping uncomfortably by your side, just waiting for you to tell him it's time to go.

The day, a Friday, where you're finally done with college (at least for a couple of months) Miguel felt it like the day his soul came back to his body.

You are smiling all day again, calling his name, doing a mess all over the whole building. And he can not be more happy about it.

He might never tell you, me might even justify himself saying he had been staying up late working in the lab every time you ask for the bags under his eyes. Because he's definitely not telling you there were nights where he couldn't even close his eyes 'cause you weren't there with him.

"Time to go home." You hum behind him, getting all of your stuff inside your backpack.

"Thank God" He rubs his neck, walking closer to you to give you a soft kiss on the forehead. "I'm dying."

You yawn, nodding. "Me too. These weeks drained me."

"Me too." He repeats, and you don't know how much he means it. "Let's just go to sleep, yeah? Hopefully tomorrow there won't be so much to do."

You smile, leaning into his embrace as you walk out the door, hearing the lights turning off as both come closer and closer to the exit.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"Okay."

Miguel steadies your body by pressing down on your hips, keeping your ass on the bed. You try to push his face out of between your thighs but he refuses to pull apart.

"Miguel!" You cry out, tears rolling down your cheeks cause of the overstimulation he was putting you in. "Too much, too much..."

His fingers curl inside you one more time, and your arch your back, almost rolling your eyes at the feeling. His tongue flicks over your sensitive bud again, dragging choked moans out of you. You try to squirm away but his hands pull you from your ass back at him as soon as you start moving.

"Easy there, Arañita. I'm almost done." He smiles up at you, letting you see the lower half of his face completely covered in your arousal.

"Mig... Mi amor..." You breath out, trying to push him out again when his chuckle crashes against your folds.

"One more, love, and you'll be ready for me." He sucks on your clit as he speaks, moving his fingers with an slower pace now. "Uno más, mamita, dame uno más."

He pushes his face down on you, working his tongue all around your most needy spot with his digits burying now deep inside you, hitting that soft place between your walls that makes you want to cry. You're a mess of moans and whimpers by now, but when his teeth slowly press on your clit, it's over for you. Your eyes roll back, your thighs tremble around him, encaging him in his favorite prison as he guides you through it, moaning into your skin when he feels your pleasure dripping on him, motivating his hips to hump against the mattress as a fucking teenager would do.

After you get down from your high, you look up at him to find him positioning himself between your legs, dragging the tip of his cock up and down on your folds.

"Miguel, wait, I'm..."

"You know your safe word, mamita, you can make me stop whenever you want." He places your legs on his shoulders and his hands on your hips, keeping you just as he wishes to. "I'm going in, and I want your eyes on me all the time I fuck you, ¿me entiendes, hermosa?"

You nod, watching the point where both of your bodies would join. He enters slowly, giving you time to adjust his size. But after the first hint of your hips trying to feel him even more, he pulls back and thrusts all the way in, making your head fall back as your back arches.

His right hand grabs you by the jaw, forcing you to open your eyes and observe how red his irises had turned.

"Eyes on me."

His pace speeds up, bottoming out with every thrust he makes. Your hands push at his lower abdomen, biting your lip to avoid crying out loud again.

"Too fast, Mig. Too much." You moan, your still overstimulated clit rips another whimper from you every time his happy trail and trimmed hair crashes against it. You were barely holding on, but your lover can't never get enough. His body reaches down, and as he places one hand around your neck, his other thumb toys at your clit in a excruciating pace. "Fuck! No, Miguel."

You tremble under him, wrapping your legs around his waist when you cannot think about anything more than cumming. Your nails bury on the skin of his back, dragging an out of breath grunt out of him.

"I'm, I'm cum-" You try to voice but nothing in your brain seems to work anymore.

"Do it, love. I got you." He keeps up his pace, almost kissing your cervix by now. "Cum for me, mi amor."

His hand squeezes a little bit harder on your neck and you need nothing else to see fucking white. Your mouth opens in a big O before your start trembling, shaking uncontrollably under his body, letting out the sweetest of sounds for him to hear.

He grunts, falling into the crock of your neck when you tighten your walls around him.

"I'm going to fucking fill you." He's out of breath and he curses something in Spanish you cannot make out. "I'm going to put a baby on your tummy, mamita..."

"Miguel..." You were on the verge of tears again, you cannot longer feel your legs but you surely can feel him deep inside you.

"Yes, love. Fuck... I'm cumming. I'm..." He bites down on your flesh, sinking his fangs into your skin when his hips stutter. His talons grow so big they dig into the headboard.

You moan at the feeling, hugging your body to his until he can breath normal again.

When he looks back at you his eyes have returned to that soft brown you're used too.

"Are you okay?" He asks, sending shivers down your spine when he caresses the sore skin.

"Yes." You smile and he traps your lips into a kiss. "And now I'm really fucking tired."

He chuckles, lifting his weight onto his forearms.

"Come here, amor. Let's take a shower so you can rest comfortably." He places another soft peck on your forehead. "I'll wash your hair."

You definitely know he will do more than that.

PD: Tbh with you guys, all I could think about while writing this was this tiktok:

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara fluff #miguel ohara smut #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #atsv #peter b parker

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teddybeartoji · 5 months ago

Text

彡 ALL OVER YOU

☆. contains: satoru gojo x gn!reader; established relationship, fluffy and sappy but also a bit suggestive (they're smooching and grinding), satoru loves praise what's new, shoutout to majid jordan for the title<3 wc: 1.7k

satoru can't stop smiling, his heart won't stop racing – you're all over him and he's never felt more giddy.

your hips grind into his slowly but surely, your hands cradling his jaw and the back of his neck; your nails scrape against his undercut as you drag your lips over his pulse point.

i love you.

butterflies dance in his stomach and he let's out a shaky laugh. his whole body feels as if it's on fire – dark pink blooms all across his chest, reaching up his neck where your hot breath only ignites it even more. his cheeks, his lips, his nose, the tips of his ears; but you're no better. warmth spreads from your fingertips and the palms of your hands, your own chest as you rub against him. the fire crackles every time your boyfriend let's out a content whine, completely blissed out from the love you're drowning him with.

your thighs burn, too. squeezing them around his, you rock yourself back and forth, feeling the growing bulge in his pants. but there's no rush – you both want it, desperately so, but you're taking your time today.

today, you are greedy. you are insatiable; your desire lies in making satoru feel good. you want to praise him, to fill his head with the sweetest words, to fill his heart with your overbearing love. it's his day. and he's not complaining.

pulling back a little, you settle right on top of his aching, clothed cock to you admire him. "you're s'pretty, baby."

it comes out like a coo; smooth and sticky – your voice is the perfect trap for him. you ruffle his hair with a hungry grin, the messy white strands falling in front of his eyes as his own bashful smile stretches wider and wider. it feels like heaven – to be in this moment with you. it's exciting, it's fun; you're humping like a couple of teenagers but despite the undeniable horny air around you – it's a hundred times more intimate than it would seem.

"yeah?"

just a little cocky, exactly the way you like it – he wants your praise, he wants it all and you will give it to him without a second thought. no teases, no witty remarks; you love him and you will show him so.

fingers carding through his hair, you push them away again so you can see him better. his forehead, the apples of his cheeks. his scars and his freckles. his dimples. he looks beautiful. "yeah."

your eyes are softer than ever and there's no denying your affection for him. so satoru does the only thing he can, and it's to stare back at you with the exact same expression. it's hard not to mirror you when he feels like he's about to burst. in more than one way.

leaning closer again, satoru feels your warm lips against his forehead. his hands slip under your shirt, eager to really feel you; slender fingers glide over your lower back, making goosebumps rise on your skin. he circles around your middle, unable to stay still while you press another kiss to one of his eyebrows.

and another to his closed eye. and another right under the other eye. his manicured nails dig into you and they form crescent moons, the prettiest reminders of his loving touch for you to admire later. he guides you down a little, hissing when you push your body more against him, your back arching in the process.

a kiss to his nose, to the scar the left side of his face and then to another up above it. to the corner of his lips. his smile widens again, there's no escaping it. yours does the same as you continue teasing him by not giving him a proper kiss. you press onr to the side of his nose, one to another scar. satoru gives your hips a squeeze, a quiet giggle escaping him as he blindly chases your lips.

"you're s'good to me, you know."

that catches him a bit off-guard, but you don't give him a moment to question it, finally placing your lips to his.

fireworks. the taste of candy, of something sweet.

you fit together like you're meant to.

you hold his jaw as if he's about to slip away while his arms go to snake around your waist again. closer, closer, closer. your tongues meet in the middle, smacking against each other as you prepare to devour one another. there isn't even an inch between you, your bodies stuck together like glue. hushed whimpers tumble from satoru's lips the more you grind on his bulge; you know he's making a mess in his pants already. he never holds anything back and you love that about him – he isn't afraid to show you how much he loves you, how hot and bothered you make him.

a louder one breaks through and your chest swells with pride. you use the opportunity to tilt his head back, forcing him to rest it against the head rest as you nip at his jaw. the man below you shivers and his hips buck up into yours on their own accord.

"my handsome boy." a trail of saliva coats his neck as you move from one side to another. "mine all mine."

oh, and how he flourishes under you. adam's apple bobbing, his eyes screw themselves shut as he takes in everything you're giving him. his cheeks hurt from smiling, he still hasn't stopped. he's never been happier.

he's being worshipped in a way he's never been before and for the first time in his life, he's accepting it. he will edge himself until the term 'blue balls' truly resonates if that means you will keep pampering him like you're doing right now. praise after praise, kiss after kiss. a tug of the hips, marks on your skin. wanton moans and wandering hands. this is what he deserves.

you bite down onto his earlobe ever so gently and earn a deep hum. he's so fucking warm, it feels like he's about to overheat but he's not complaining. the pink looks good on him anyway.

"satoru..." you purr directly into his ear and laugh quietly when he squirms.

"mm?"

"look at me."

now wasting even a second, his crystalline eyes crack open and look for you. wrong move – like a minx, like a little devil you sit on top of him, your lips wet with your own saliva and the taste of him, staring at him with keen eyes almost as if you're going to eat him whole. he gulps at the sight and his fingers sink deeper into your skin.

"you're everything to me."

for the second time you've caught him off-guard. he expected something more along the lines of 'you're the best' or 'you're so funny' or 'you're so cute'. and he would've welcomed those compliments with open arms, but now you're here tugging at his heart strings while he's sitting hard as a rock below you. he can't take it, he might actually die.

satoru let's out a broken groan and then tries to hide his face behind his hand at the slight embarrassment that creeps up his throat. but it's very fucking difficult to do so when the sound of your laughter reaches his ears. your fingers curl around his own as you try to tear them away from his face.

"don't hide from me, what the fuck." more chuckles. you're killing him.

"m'not hiding, i was just.. uh.. luring you to me again."

"right, right..." when you finally manage to intertwine your fingers with his, you press another haste kiss to his lips. "as if i'm actually going anywhere, stupid."

it's something to see a person smile and it's something to make them do it, but to feel it? to truly feel it against you – it's something truly special. there's no way to describe it and satoru is more than grateful for you and the fact that he can experience this type of thing when he thought he never would.

"jus' wanted to see how red you are..."

...

he gasps into your mouth and pinches your side, clasping his hands around you before you can even try to escape his wrath. his eyes meet yours and you watch the corners of his mouth twitch – you know what's coming.

bursts of laughter fill your shared apartment as satoru's fingers dance on your sides, the tickling touch making you squirm and twitch on his lap. his smile reaches behind his ears again as he looks at you. he's your everything? him? satoru gojo?

he doesn't know what to do with that information. it's a little overwhelming, but he refuses to shut down at the newly found emotions that are searing inside his ribcage. you're here and you love him. you're here and you're giving him his all. he's your everything.

you're his everything.

he curses at himself in his head for not being more original but he makes a promise to show his appreciation to you through actions. he will buy you even more flowers, he's going to kiss you more, he's going to hug you more. he's going to spoil you more. he's going to thank you more. he's going to love you more.

(as if that's even possible.)

after giving his shoulder a playful shove, you settle down onto his lap calmly as you try to catch your breath. he twitches in his pants and averts his gaze in the most dramatic way possible and you don't even try to hold back a cackle.

"you're dumb."

"wha– " his eyes flick back to yours in an instant. "what happened to all the sexy and super loving words, hm?"

pawing at his neck, you pull him close so your noses are brushing together. "don't worry, you're my stupid, okay? my pretty boy; my sun, my moon, my stars. my angel, my little flower."

hearts swim in his eyes as you stare at him at the most unflattering angle of all times. it doesn't matter. it doesn't matter at all.

his hands rest on your waist, his gaze on yours. soft smiles and dimples – it's so easy with him. it's easy to love him.

you don't even have to think about the next words. they form on the back of your tongue, the letter bounce around in your mouth like a piece of bubblegum. so sweet, just like him.

"i love you."

1K notes · View notes

highvern · 5 days ago

Text

Steam I

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x f!reader

Genre: ATLA au, enemies(?) to lovers, forbidden romance, royalty au

General Warnings: violence (bending fights), injuries (mentions of broken bones, burns, blood, bruises), alcohol consumption, mentions of prostitution Smut Warnings: multiple smut scenes, fingering, dry humping, slight exhibitionism, oral sex (f & m receiving), unprotected sex, handjob, hair pulling, marking, virgin!reader, wonwoo has a tiny bit of a corruption kink

Length: ~14k | Fic Length: ~60k

Credits: banner: @caelesjjk and @shadowkoo | betas: @tomodachiii @miniseokminnies @gyuswhore @haologram and @wqnwoos

Note: insane insane insane. i started this from a tiny little head cannon forever ago and when i started writing i anticipated maybe 20k max. but im a liar because this quickly excelled that by a landslide. i hope yall enjoy this monster of a fic as much as i did writing it. i'll be uploading each part with one day in between. p.s i used the ATLA wiki to build a believable setting for this but it really diverges from cannon and doesn't mention any of the original characters from the cartoon.

summary: Wonwoo is the best fire bender in Capitol City. Or he is. But a water bender he's never seen before changes everything.

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Ranchous voices filled the warehouse, deafening as the hoard of bodies looking for a night of gruesome entertainment flooded the stands. Steam and smoke and dust clogged the air, only cleared by the occasional rush of wind the massive hole in the ceiling that showed the clear night sky above, the moon barely half full and the stars dusted across the sky.

Wonwoo watched from the catwalk criss-crossing high above the ring like always. He won’t fight until later, not until someone was dumb enough to challenge him once the adrenaline of the smaller spars bubbles to their head and they decide they would be the one to end his winning streak proudly tallied on the leaderboard.

But for now he stood on the metal platform. Below, Jihoon launched a clay disk at his opponent with terrifying speed. With a wide swing of his arm, Chan knocked it aside before it could land, spinning off balance from the recoil.

Too easy. But no matter how many times the two fight, Chan never catches on to Jihoon’s tricks until it's too late. Jihoon hurled a second disc – cracking it into pieces with a squeeze of his fist – at Chan’s head. The airbender managed to dodge the first piece but the other two landed true, crumbling him to his knees. The crowd fell into a frenzy of starved animals, foaming at the mouth as a tally mark appeared next to Jihoon’s name on the victory board.

Wonwoo’s name sat on the next line above, so many tallies they nearly ran off the side of the sheet of repurposed metal.

He rarely lost. Dokyeom might force a draw for fear the building would burn down if a fight dragged on; but the last time that happened was nearly two years ago when Seungcheol demanded one final fight before retiring. They both walked away with matching black eyes and limps, his friend with singed uneven hair, and Wonwoo with a concussion and a dislocated shoulder.

It was one of the few fights Wonwoo didn’t mind losing. Defeat was much sweeter when he got paid half the betting pool for it.

The next fight geared up to start; another air bender and a fire bender racing into the ring. Wonwoo rarely cared to watch their fights. Hoshi lacked finesse, relying on overwhelming his opponents, while Seungkwan’s temper historically ended the match before it could really begin. But it never stopped the audience from rushing to place their bets with Jeonghan like always.

Deciding he needed a drink for the chaos about to unfold, Wonwoo descended the stairs towards the crude bar in the corner of the upper tier of the stands. It’s nothing more than a shabby counter top, covered with colorful bottles and cracked cups.

The sting of fire whisky going down didn’t shock his system nearly as much as the woman leaning against the wall; watching him, gaze heavy on his skin even in the dim light.

Rounding the bartop, Wonwoo didn’t look away as he approached. If you balked under his gaze, he can’t decipher a tell; only a satisfied smile pulling the corner of your lips high and your eyelids lowering until his chest brushes yours.

His arm rests above your shoulder, pinning you beneath his gaze. “You’re staring at me.”

It isn’t a question, it's an accusation. And you’re more than guilty.

“And what are you going to do about it?” You asked, chin tilting back defiantly, eyes narrowed. Wonwoo makes the mistake of looking at your mouth, hypnotized by the tantalizing pout of flesh as it slips into a smirk. He walked right into your trap before he even knew what was happening.

He dipped closer, eyes still on your lips. “What's your name?”

Just as your nose brushed his own, you melted off the wall and under his arm. Wonwoo cut a glance over his shoulder to find you stalking backwards into the crowd, eyes never leaving his until you're swallowed into the fold without a trace.

The dare was so obvious in your gaze. Paired with the teasing words, Wonwoo felt something surge inside him. That hot need to chase, to tease you back. To find out if your boldness evaporated with enough attention or if you’d use the same haughty tone to chaste him in private.

Wonwoo moved to do just that but he’s called to the ring for the next fight.

“Our reigning champion, the man of fire,” Dokyeom preened dramatically into the mic. The crowd roared in enthusiastic response. “The longest running victor in bending battle history!”

People parted as Wonwoo approached the walkway leading to the isolated platform surrounded by a steep drop off into a pool of water. Maybe he reveled in the applause and anticipatory cheers longer than necessary but if anyone’s earned it, he has.

“And our newest challenger!”

The poor idiot who signed up to fight shouldn’t last too long, Wonwoo isn’t interested in dragged out humiliation. Especially not now. Hopefully, he can end this quickly and find you again, bargain his victory for your name and maybe some time alone.

But, as swiftly as his hopes ignited, they crumbled to ash. Dokyeom continued his rambling as you flashed a smug smile across the ring.

He faltered for only a moment before continuing towards the center of the ring. Out of the dark, he failed to decipher anything that might give him advantage. You lacked the breezeness of an airbender, posture too rigid, the cocky defiance from earlier still present. Maybe an earthbender. Or better yet, a firebender.

Your eyes trickle down his form. Only one of you is at a disadvantage so far but it won’t remain that way for long. Wonwoo thrives on a challenge, and after so long without one his heart squeezed in excitement.

“Good luck.”

You remained silent, eying Wonwoo’s outstretched hand before ignoring it, turning towards your side of the platform with your nose in the air.

Gasps of shock erupted around the warehouse. The stands circling the platform were fuller than before, even the people who only came to socialize found a sudden interest in the stranger bold enough to snub the best. Wonwoo paid them no mind. You’re the most interesting opponent he’s had in a long time.

Words from earlier echoed in his ears.

What are you going to do about it?

Wonwoo followed suit and retreated to his post with a few grounding breaths. The flame inside him grew in preparation. Hungry. Vicious. It raged until there's nowhere for the fire to go but out.

The starting bell cut the air; immediately he's on the offensive, dropping into a low stance, arms drawn into his side before the shrill sound stopped. A swift punch launched a huge fireball from his fist, a swell of heat surging through his veins as it sails over the ring with terrifying speed. Then another and another, fast enough that just as one dissipates, it’s already replaced with a new explosion of flames.

Barely any smoke filled the air when they dissolved. They were nothing more than a cheap scare tactic; completely hollow shells aimed to intimidate rather than maim. The fight is just starting and there's no reason to throw his best moves just yet.

You sidestepped each blow, dipping close to the floor before rising again and twirling out of the way with catlike grace. Wonwoo lobbed the next one right in your path but you adapt without pause. Like you’re dancing around the fire. With the fire.

Wonwoo rushed forward, taking the advantage to drive you towards the edge of the platform, refusing to grant an ounce of reprieve. Not that you needed it. Every blow is avoided even as he adds more punch to the moves, each burning hotter and brighter than the one previous.

He maintained a healthy distance, plenty of room to keep the heat away from himself as his arms sweep and a ring of fire slices at your feet, close enough to singe the edge of your boots before you can avoid it completely. But you dove through the opening and rolled back to your feet, as if you expected the blow.

Wonwoo sliced his hand through the air, a razor thin whip of flame bursting forth to lick against your chin, close enough to feel the heat but Wonwoo maintains control. You could’ve blocked the move but you retreat again, eyes furious at the smoke of burnt hair jagged from contact dangling next to your jaw.

Wonwoo can’t detect any attempt at bending. The clay disks stacked at the edge of the ring remained unmoved, the air undisturbed. There’s no pull at the flames he’s conjuring, no hint that you're manipulating his own fire against him.

After another one sided volley of hits, your refusal to fight began to wear on his nerves. He harnessed more flame with a sweep of his leg, a swift stomp sending it over your head before it exploded and knocked you to your knees. You controlled the impact and roll to a crouch, eyes blazing,

“Is that really all you’ve got?” you said, shoulders squared but lax.

There’s no teasing in your voice, if anything it’s cold disappointment. To Wonwoo’s shame, a hot bolt of want ran through him. Images of you whispering the same words, with the same haughty tone, flashed in his mind; back in the dark corner near the bar where you started this entire game; back in one of the many unused rooms of the warehouse with just you and him and no one else to watch him earn your approval.

Your leg circled around and Wonwoo prepared himself for something of interest to finally happen but you used the momentum to raise back on your feet and brace for the next round.

Wonwoo realized you must be a waterbender. The way you moved, melting around every attack, shifting with impressive flexibility, was a dead giveaway. That or just plain stupid. If you walked into this fight with no bending then it was only a matter of time before you cut your losses and yielded.

Only one way to find out.

A towering wall of pure flame, large enough it’d scare even him to be on the receiving end, swelled in front of Wonwoo. The crowd roared in excitement, feral for the inevitable end to the match. There was nowhere for you to evade this time. It was either into the flame or off the backend of the platform.

A flat footed kick sent the wave barreling directly at you, consuming more oxygen and growing wider with rapid speed.

The flood of fire forced your hand. A tsunami of water rose from the grates criss-crossing the ring, geysers gushing with enough pressure to shake the floor. A sharp hiss echoes as opposing elements collided in an explosion of steam thick enough to clog the entire warehouse. So dense Wonwoo can’t see in front of his own nose.

Wonwoo stood unfazed, even as the crowd distantly murmured in confusion. Now, the game truly began.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he called, listening. Waiting.

A splash behind him is the only warning of your presence. Wonwoo slashed his leg through the air, an arch of flame slicing through the fog providing a brief glimpse of visibility before it sealed back up. However, it did nothing more, you weren’t there.

“Longest running victor in battle history, and he can’t even land a hit,” you tsked.

Wonwoo jerked at the sound of your voice, so close he expected to find you right behind him but he’s only met with a faceful of powder.

A fucking snowball?

You must have been close enough to see the scowl twisting his face because you giggled before launching another.

“Can’t handle a little water?” you snorted.

Under different circumstances, ones not involving you pelting him like a child, Wonwoo might have enjoyed the sound. He might have even wanted to find out what the sound tastes like on his tongue.

Another snowball, this one more ice than anything, collided with his chin and that desire turned into cinders. He whipped fire towards the noise but missed.

Arms raised, he feigned as if to launch another and instead harnessed his breath and forced a wider arch of flame to evaporate the fog you’ve hidden in. Wonwoo found you evading from the corner of his eye and used the moment of weakness to spring into action.

Except you crumbled with a choked scream and the sudden rush of victory tastes like ash.

Three wide strides and Wonwoo was there, hunched and ready for the next blow; ready for another one of your tricks. But your choppy breathing extinguished his competitiveness. The air reeked of burnt. The entire ring smoldered with heat.

He should’ve known better; especially with you. So clearly unprepared for the intensity of a fight like this. Dokyeom should never have let you put your name down to fight, let alone against Wonwoo.

Acrid smoke rose from the discolored collar of your tunic; too close to hope he hasn’t burnt your face but he does anyway. Wonwoo prepared for the worst as he rolled you over, already yelling for a healer.

He isn’t prepared for an icy fist straight to his nose with enough force to send him onto his back. “What the fuck?”

Another blow landed on the back of his head. Hot blood rushed forward as the next punch lands with a grotesque crunch against his nose. His skin stung with cold, eyes burning from the sudden influx of pain.

Long channels of water with blunt frozen ends sprouted from the grates like a watery forest. You stood unscathed amongst the pulsing curtains, smiling like a lunatic.

Wonwoo covered his head from the brunt of attacks. His nose was broken and one of his eyes was already swelling shut. A torrent of water collapsed over him, bearing down with the power of a waterfall. His knees buckled. The air in his lungs abandoned him.

In a last ditch attempt to save his pride, he thrusted his hand forward. The reek of ozone clouded the warehouse as electricity splintered towards you.

And as if it’s nothing, you redirected the bolt of lightning through the opening in the warehouse roof as Wonwoo watches in shock.

The warehouse went silent. Seconds grew into minutes but no one moved as you rose into a lazy stance.

Wonwoo watched through sweat and blood, dark spots floating in his vision as the sound of your boots grew closer.

“How disappointing,” you sighed just loud enough for him to hear before striding towards the platform and out of view.

When the echo of your footsteps faded, Wonwoo sank into darkness.

In the late hour, the Middle District streets buzzed with life. Vendors shouted, hawking their wares, boasting exotic produce and clothing with incatract embroidery from the farthest reaches of the world. Taverns packed with patrons singing and hollering in drunken glee. The smell of fried dough and roasted meat wafted through the air.

Mingyu was easily distracted with every stall he passed. Why, you had no idea. Even as a guard he could get the

best quality of anything he wanted at the palace; food, clothing, drink. But he stuck his nose in the air as the scraggly old man refuses to barter over the bruised moon peaches and wanders down the aisle to another stand with the exact same selection and even more wrinkled merchant.

In the midst of his discussion on cherry nuts, you slipped away, down one of the cramped alleys choked with smoke and shouts of people enjoying the balmy night.

No one looked in your direction twice as you meandered through crowded walkways, children squealing as they chased each other and adults shouting in annoyance when one bounces off their knees. In all the chaos, it was easier to disappear and actually explore without Mingyu hovering like an anxious mother hen. If anyone would get you two caught for sneaking out of the palace, it was him. Even in servant’s clothes, you couldn’t help but feel woefully out of place and he wasn’t helping.

The side streets were calmer; veins flowing slowly into the heart of main street. People moved in lazy sways, some appearing to only remain vertical from leaning against door frames into dark hallways. The lanterns strung above cast an oily sheen on the cobblestone. If you remembered the archive maps correctly, the Gaiety should be close.

Even through the thick clouds above, you felt the moon swelling. Only a few more days until she’d be full and with it came the unbearable restlessness. Mingyu only agreed to sneak you out of the palace after the fight weeks ago because you’d nearly taken his head off while sparring.

A night away, somewhere new. Somewhere to take out the energy without nearly killing him. The warehouse out in the harbor was out of question after the fight weeks ago. Not with the way you made a spectacle of the cocky firebender you’d studied for weeks. Mingyu threatened to rat you out if you thought for a second to step back in there. At least it’d been worth the loss; Wonwoo’s face as you redirected his lightning like it was nothing was worth every second of Mingyu's anger.

No longer feeling like one of your grandmother’s koi, swimming in endless circles of the garden pond, you forced your shoulders to slouch, chin tipping down to obscure your face beneath the wide brim of your hat.

Most of the buildings lining the street are shabby; peeling paint, splintered windows, wooden steps on the brink of collapsing from years of rot. Most are alive with noise, men and women crowded around low tables just beyond the door, wine flowing like a river and laughter spilling from open windows.

Further down, where the lanterns are more sparse with red shades casting everything in an eerie glow, the air grows thick with smoke. The street twisted like a grotesque snake, turning at harsh angles to hide whatever waited beyond, tangled in indecipherable turns. Buildings were little more than shacks, each leaning on the one next to it for support; stacked like a house of precariously stacked cards one gust of wind away from crashing down. Plenty of alleys jutted off into darkness, shadows shifting with scantily clad women and what looked like couples making no attempt to obscure what was clearly taking place. A small crowd still mills about, some ogling but most too absorbed in their own merriment.

Just like when that firebender hit you with lightning, hairs all over your body stood on end. This place is wrong. You need to leave. Now.

Turning to do so, you found yourself nose to nose with a man completely blocking your vision.

“What is a pretty girl like you doing all alone?” he said, clearly drunk from his haphazard slant. That, or incredibly stupid. His breath stung your nose, bile rising at the scent of liquor.

Water, or something resembling it enough to heed your command, rocketed from a nearby drain pipe. The thick haze over the area dissipated in an instant, all eyes on the man frozen to the rickety wall of a nearby building, face turning purple as he shouted indignantly.

You stared for a moment, stunned by your own hand. And then, you ran.

People shouted as you crashed through them, feet pounding on the uneven stone road. Several sets of footsteps chase, gaining by the sound of it, all calling for you to stop. You pushed yourself to run faster, so hard your muscles burned but you pressed forward.

Lungs screaming for breath, you rounded the entrance to the main street in time for someone to snag your arm in a vice grip.

“Let me g—” Your scream is muffled by your captor forcing your face into his chest, arm slipping around your shoulders to keep you from breaking free. You fought but couldn’t break free.

“Walk, don’t look back” a deep voice rumbled.

The hands were too warm to belong to your guard – not that you’d be lucky enough to run into Mingyu and make it back to the palace so easily – completely unfamiliar and unnecessarily rough. Between the guards still in pursuit not far behind and the man already dragging you through the crowd, you preferred the odds of whatever this new stranger had planned.

Out of the side street, your new captor maneuvered hastily. People parted on either side of your path, allowing more distance to grow between you and the mob, but their yells licked at your heels. You chanced a glance up and found the very firebender you’d humiliated weeks ago. Features schooled in a neutral expression, Wonwoo kept moving further down the street, steps so wide it was difficult to keep up.

“Next intersection go right.”

Your heels dug into the ground, refusing to move another step with this man. No way he took that beating weeks ago and wasn’t holding a grudge. You humiliated him in public, in front of his friends and probably a few enemies; few men would take that without protest and pass up an opportunity for revenge.

“Trust me, princess.”

The word striked frigid fear through your veins like ice. But he kept his eyes forward, constantly scanning the crowd and using the momentary pause to push you forward. You bounced off another couple as you stumbled to do as he says, face still hidden in the collar of his shirt. The street is still wet from last night’s rain and the water calls in reassurance.

Wonwoo underestimated you, like so many others. Even though he didn’t look smug about knowing your identity he was still a threat. Perhaps he thought your victory was a fluke but you were prepared to remind him what defeat tasted like.

But first, you needed to lose your pursuers. And for now, Wonwoo served that purpose.

The street he turned you down was far calmer, but no less packed. The bodies moved in a gentle pulse unlike the crush of the central avenue. Wonwoo pressed forward but not as urgently, flowing with the ebb of foot traffic.

Your muscles tensed as distance from the main street grew, prepared for Wonwoo to strike. To pull you into one of the shadowed alleyways and challenge you to another brawl. But there were too many witnesses here for him to do much, not to mention all the buildings made of wood. Unless he was a unique type of stupid.

But, surely this was far enough to shed him. Another busy street was not far ahead, one you recognized; farther south from the palace than you’d like but you’d make do. You just needed to find Mingyu and get back to the tunnels before Wonwoo caught back up.

Preparing yourself to run, you chanced another look to see if guards from earlier were well and truly gone. The chaos of before hadn’t followed, no shouts or discontent from the people left in your wake. But you couldn’t be sure until you—

“Don’t look.”

You huffed but faced forward once more. “I wasn’t going to!”

“Yes, you were,” Wonwoo swallowed something like a laugh.

How dare he! If he thought he could take you captive and chastise you like a rebellious child then he had another thing coming.

You jumped to your toes, twisting against his tight grip at your waist to peer back. Only to find one of the men from earlier already staring straight at you.

“Hey! Stop right there!”

“You looked,” Wonwoo groaned. “Run!”

Turning again, you froze the lanky man’s feet to the ground. He stumbled at the unexpected set back, crashing into passersby who seemed none too pleased but you could only assume from indigent yelling as Wonwoo dragged you away.

“In here,” Wonwoo whispered, shoving you into a dark alley, barely more than a divot between buildings before he followed suit.

His body pressed tight against yours from knee to shoulder. Like back in the warehouse. When he nearly pinned you against the wall and almost made you forget the entire reason you went at all that night. When he tempted you with a different challenge than what you planned to offer. You might have considered the proposition if Wonwoo hadn’t failed so spectacularly; let him prove his worth beyond bending.

In the dark, you tripped over the slick paced ground and fell straight into Wonwoo’s chest. With your hands planted on his shoulders, you felt his lungs stretch around gulps of air. Under more pleasant circumstances you’d remember the impropriety of it all. Alone with a man, in a dark corner of the city; breath mingled in choppy pants, the heat of him sinking straight into your bones with his thigh between your knees. And his hands. Such rough, warm hands pinned against your sides. If anyone saw then they’d see a couple unable to wait for a more private location.

But you didn’t find yourself caring in the slightest. Not about propriety or even the fact that Wonwoo all but admitted he knowingly fought a member of the royal family and was now doing something even more scandalous. You couldn’t think when you were wedged so tightly between a wall and a man, intimate proximity you’ve never experienced before. The miraculous way his palms fit perfectly against your hips, how his breath ghosted against your forehead and the deep rumble of his voice—

“What were you doing?” he said. “Are you trying to get yourself arrested?”

If only he’d shut his mouth long enough for you to enjoy the fantasy of being like any other woman in the kingdom, free to touch and be touched. But the reprimand shattered the short lived dream.

“They wouldn’t have arrested me,” you huff indignitaly. “I had it under control! Or do you need a reminder?”

“By all means, freeze me to a wall! That went so well last time, didn’t it? Maybe this time you can just wait around for them to catch you.”

“Maybe I will!” You jabbed a finger into his chest, momentarily shocked by the firm muscles there, before ducking out of the alcove and back onto the street before doing something stupid with the new information.

But Wonwoo yanked you back into the shadows just in time for one of the men to run past. “Do you even know where you’re going?”

“Of course I do!” you silently scream. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because only an idiot would visit the Red Lanterns alone. Especially a woman. You clearly didn’t belong there.”

He said woman, not princess. Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe it was a stupid nickname you were looking far too much into. There was no reason he should have recognized you. Your grandmother was so fiercely protective of her sole heir apparent that she hardly let you explore even the farthest corners of the palace grounds, let alone appear somewhere subjects got close enough to make out a single feature beyond your silhouette next to her. Only nobles, guardsmen, and servants would recognize you and the entire appeal of visiting the Middle District was none of them would be here. No one would know their princess was among them.

“Oh? And how do you know?”

“You’d be a lousy prostitute if you froze all your customers to a wall.”

You watched his face for any hint of dishonesty but he stared right back, eyes blazing with the same contagious annoyance. He didn’t know. His heart raced beneath your palm but didn’t stutter with dishonesty.

“Then what were you doing there?”

“I saw you earlier and thought…it doesn’t matter.” He eyed the disgust on your face before sighing. “Just tell me where you’re going and I’ll help you get there.”

“Thought what?” you gritted.

The air thickened with silence as different emotions flashed across Wonwoo’s face. He was no better than the drunk who tried to proposition you. Your thoughts might have devolved into something less than proper but you’d never act on it. If he thought he could just—

“No!” he shouted, eyes wide and bright red despite the dark. “That’s not…I wanted to challenge you to a rematch and then you went and got yourself into a fight.”

“So you were stalking me?”

“You’re in my neighborhood, waterbender. How do I know you’re not stalking me?”

You snorted at that in an attempt to ignore his muscles flexing between your thighs. He couldn’t have not noticed how compromising the position was. If he dipped his chin you could easily kiss him. Not that you would. Ladies did not kiss strange men in alleys; especially not princesses. Even if the strange man was incredibly handsome. And muscular.

“Why would I need to stalk you for a rematch? I know where to find you if I need a confidence boost.”

Whether you liked it or not – and you most certainly didn’t – you were stuck with Wonwoo until you could shake him and the group of Middle District guards after you. Something tells you even if you did tell him you knew exactly where you needed to go, he’d follow just out of sight. That simply wouldn’t do if you wanted to keep your identity a secret; assuming he truly didn’t know.

Which meant he really did want to help; at least for now. As you peered back up, the fading bruises littering his jaw came into focus. Ugly splotches of yellow and green. Gifts you gave him freely and would happily supply more in spades but there is a twinge of guilt souring your stomach

“Did I do this?”

“Yeah,” he released a long breath through his nose, subtly leaning into your finger unconsciously tracing the marks. Someone did a good job healing him. “And you broke my nose.”

“Maybe next time you should learn to block,” you teased.

The same fire from when he approached you in the warehouse burned across his face, hot enough to scorch everywhere his body touched yours. Maybe one kiss, just to see what all the fuss was about, wouldn’t be so bad. The maids seemed to talk of nothing but which stableboys and guards they were kissing; how some were bad and others were good. Whatever that meant. How several were skilled at doing more vulgar activities with their mouths and hands. No matter how many times you asked, none of them ever answered what exactly they were so talented at but you read enough to have an idea.

For the briefest second, you wondered if Wonwoo would demonstrate just what it was that made the maids giggle so incessantly.

But as his head dipped closer to yours, the spell broke by the crush of reality. You needed to get back home. You needed to find Mingyu.

You looked back towards the street before speaking again, “I don’t know what the street is called but my friend was checking out fruit stalls when we got split.”

“Ah, yes,” Wonwoo grumbled, head tilting back against the wall behind him. “The one street with fruit merchants. Remember anything else? Cobblestones and people? Were there buildings?”

Smartass.

“Um… there was a stall with spirit carvings and a tea house.”

He scrubbed his face, or attempted to. There wasn’t enough room between your faces for the action so his hand hovered in the darkness awkwardly before collapsing back against your side. It seemed only then did he register his proximity, and whatever anger he clung to melted into stammering embarrassment.

“Did you see the sign for the tea house?” he asked, eyes on the street.

“It was silver and had a—”

“The Silver Dragon. I know it. Come on.”

Another check that the coast was clear and Wonwoo pulled you back into the street, arm slung over your shoulders. He navigated easily enough. Each time he spotted something suspicious ahead he pulled you towards a stall, feigning interest in whatever goods were on display while watching from the corner of his eye until he deemed it safe enough to continue towards the Silver Dragon.

Slowly the buildings became more familiar; a merchant with a unique hat, the raven eagle fountain that hosted squealing children splashing in its waters. An old woman dishing out cups of frozen watermelon juice.

A silver flag embroidered with a dragon hung limply overhead. You scanned for Mingyu but to no avail, faces passed and blended the crowd into an amorphous ocean of strangers. Wonwoo kept a firm hold on your shoulders as the crowd swayed. He gripped your bare upper arm beneath the billowing sleeve of your tunic. No one besides your maids had touched you like this; so familiar and foreign at the same time. The heat of his palms like the first lick of a fire after hours in the snow.

While Mingyu appeared to have moved on, the guards seemed to have doubled back. They wove through the thicket of people aggressively. Wonwoo froze, noticing at the same time that there was no way to turn around without garnering their suspicion.

The street choked into a tight squeeze, locking you in place as the guards surged forward. Twenty feet, then ten. Then only a single person separated you from them and desperation fanned the flame of stupidity.

Your neck strained upward, and before Wonwoo could jump back, you fisted a hand in his hair and dragged him down to meet your mouth. He hesitated before sinking into the kiss eagerly, commanding your full attention with his teeth and the, with his tongue. With another pull, he guided you into the narrow space between merchant stalls, tripping over his own feet until all you registered was the hot press of him to your front and the chill of brick behind you.

It’s not like the sweet chaste kisses in the plays you grew up watching. Wonwoo demanded nothing less than your complete attention with a hot suck against your bottom lip. You copied him with clumsy eagerness.

All the thinking, the responsibilities and reminders plaguing your consciousness silenced their screaming; instinct filled its place. Your hips thrashed until his thigh slotted between your legs with dizzying firmness but then there was the want of more that had you rocking against it. In the process you brushed against a lump between his own thighs, and the instinct to rub against it was too strong to ignore.

Wonwoo only groaned before diving to lap against the sensitive skin beneath your ear. He surged forward, meeting every curl of your hips with an enthusiastic arch of his own. A hand at the base of your spine, beneath your tunic, angled you just so – completely at his whim. His other hand heated the side of your throat, tipping your head back to leave you panting with another rough press of his mouth.

Unconsciously, you traced his side, tugged at his shirt before letting go and only to crush the fabric again. Then your hands fell down his stomach until your palm pressed against that straining hardness and Wonwoo seized, teeth razing against your ear until you did the same.

“Spirits,” he exhaled through swollen lips, grinding into your hand.

You sucked him back into another kiss, laving at the swell of his bottom lip until he knocked your hand away and spread your legs for a raw drag against your core. His head tucked into the crook of your shoulder, panting breath creeping through the fabric of your top as he did it again. The press of his mouth made your pace sloppy, mindless grinds until you both groaned.

You wanted him without the frustrating barrier of clothing obscuring the warmth of his hands, his chest; to have him do something about the aching emptiness settled in your core. The pang of needing something stoked by the bruising twists of him against you.

There’s no sound over the roaring blood in your ears. Sparks flashed in your vision but your eyes sneak open to watch Wonwoo’s face twisted in agony. You latched on to his neck – biting and licking the same way he did – until he made that noise again.

In the corner of your vision, you registered the pedestrians moving past as if nothing was happening. As if their princess wasn’t concealed only feet away, pressed against a strange man with a hand sneaking beneath the tie of his pants.

But instead of embarrassment, a hot jolt squeezed your chest. No one knew. Much like the nights you snuck from the palace to explore the city, your freedom was innocuous. A way to learn what was hidden behind the false shine councilmen presented in their reports and the poetic ramblings of tutors.

Wonwoo could teach you about those sneaking passions that drove you mad on long nights. He already proved how much better they were when someone else wanted to resolve them.

Hours or days might have passed as you focused on coaxing out more of those delicious sounds – nail raking through his hair with every rut, rolling against him the same way waves rolled over the shore of the ocean under the full moon's pull.

Your vision blurred, unfocused on the faces walking past as Wonwoo sucked a bruise into your skin. That feeling in the pit of your gut twisted painstakingly tight like an itch you couldn’t scratch. More and more, until a familiar face passed by and reality came like an ice bath.

Mingyu.

He couldn’t see you in the shadows, and the call of his name morphed into a throaty whine as Wonwoo snaked his hand further down your spine, down the back of your pants to squeeze the curve of your ass painfully. He continued to mouth at your shoulder, unaware. When you pushed him this time he pushed back with a hungered moan until you tugged him out of hiding.

“I have to go,” you panted, melting out of his grip. Your voice was unfamiliarly husky. Everything felt slower, hazier like the smokey streets earlier.

His body tightened, attempting to pull you closer before letting go. Lips wet with spit, he regarded you with pure confusion. “What?”

But you were already back on the street before you could answer, underwear uncomfortably sticky. A problem for later; in the dark safety of your room. With vivid memories of a handsome firebender and the way his body felt surging against yours.

You chased Mingyu down the street, snatching his hand and taking off before temptation got the better of you and marched you back into the alley for Wonwoo to finish what started.

“We need to leave,” you said. “Now.”

“Spirits, what did you do?” Mingyu cried.

“Just go!”

Wonwoo didn’t chase, and a part of you curdled with disappointment.

Wonwoo knew he should be in bed. Sleep or not, his body needed rest after the last few nights he spent awake plagued by the nightmare of you. He couldn’t concentrate. Blows he’d block with ease slipped by, bruises littered across his torso as proof. Forms he’d been drilled on for years and years to the point of muscle memory became sloppy enough for his commanders to notice.

And it was all your fault.

You were everywhere; the teasing lit of your voice, the heat of your eyes, the taste of your lips, those soft noises you made when Wonwoo pressed his cock into your core.

It was bad enough after the first night you challenged him. Dokyeom spent all night healing Wonwoo and it hadn’t soothed the sting of humiliation. Then came the fact that no one knew who you were; Dokyeom hadn’t gotten your name, Jeonghan took bets under ‘death wish’. No one recognized you from anywhere in the city. You were a ghost.

But then fate granted him a second chance, only for it to slip through his fingers. Again.

He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. Couldn’t do the one thing he’s good at without being consumed by thoughts of you.

Moonlight dappled through the trees overhead, casting everything in a hazy filter of silver and shadows. Something scurried across the trail ahead and dipped into the bushes. Wonwoo was only fifteen minutes out from the barracks, too close to people for any of the bigger creatures to venture close. Even if something did come across his path, maybe it's what he needed; a new distraction from the one who's been terrorizing him non-stop.

Besides, Wonwoo was a soldier, body trained to remain vigilant even if his mind wanders. If something decided to attack he could handle it. But only fireflies and cicada crickets disturbed the stillness of the forest late at night.

He isn’t sure how long he walked but the moon remained heavy and full in the sky. The sun lay far way away, deep beneath the horizon. Wonwoo’s thoughts wandered farther than his feet could take him, imagining how you’d be spending a night like tonight, probably somewhere getting into more trouble. Maybe freezing another drunken pervert to a wall.

Wonwoo couldn’t help but laugh at the idea. You with your nose in the air as some man begs for mercy, leaving him to rot just because you could.

Then, as all his thoughts of you were in the past few days, the images morphed until it was you and him. You beneath him, on top of him; him between your legs, his cock, his mouth, fingers. All of it as he tried to earn your approval.

There it was. The uncomfortable tightness across the crotch of his pants, the sweat at the edge of his collar. Even the most innocuous thoughts of you sent his body into a helpless frenzy. He hated it all the more because no matter what he did it never stopped. It didn’t matter if he trained until his bones crumbled in on themselves, muscles wilted and spent, there was a part of him immune to exhaustion in light of you. When he took the herbs the medic recommended to help him sleep, his dreams were plagued with the most vivid visions of you; even worse than the waking ones.

It was all your fault for kissing him.

He could have dealt with the embarrassment of being defeated swiftly in the ring. Things happened, he wasn’t immune to bad luck against a good opponent. But you kissed him, and touched him. You let Wonwoo touch you as if there wasn’t a busy street of witnesses only a few feet away. You wanted him to; purred and whimpered with each drag against his thigh. If he had slipped his hand beneath your underbindings like he wanted to there would be evidence of your arousal. He wanted to do that too – where anyone could have seen him. On his knees, with his mouth between your legs as you writhed and pulled his hair until you came.

But he didn’t know your name and was at the mercy of the spirits if he was ever to see you again.

Wonwoo followed the channel, meandering with every bend as his mind worked over and over. He just needed to clear his head enough for tomorrow. After that, he’d figure something out. Find a way to find you or hope you stumbled into his path once more.

Splashes up stream pricked his ears. The closest waterfall was at least an hour's trek upstream from the barracks, where the mountains dropped off into a steep cliff like a spirit cleaved it in half. Wonwoo didn’t know how far or how long he walked but the trees were too dense to be that far out.

The ground was no longer soft from the rain days ago and allowed Wonwoo to sneak forward without sound. It was a shame the night was so clear, the shadows hugging close to the trees, not nearly enough to conceal himself in. But it was of little consequence.

He saw you in profile, bathed in moonlight as you stood in the river, water parted into great walls on either side. Even at a distance, Wonwoo traced the silk binding your torso and the dark leggings clinging to your thighs as you danced among the swelling waves eager to follow your whim. If he hadn’t known better, it looked like the moon was focusing her gaze on you, illuminating you from beneath your skin.

The longer he looked the more he was convinced you were a spirit. No matter how close the waves came to your person, they never seemed to make contact; water completely bent to your will, under total control.

Wonwoo shuffled closer like a moth to a flame. Completely enamored with the sight before him, he didn't realize his mistake until a twig snapped beneath his foot.

In an instant, the sweat and humidity clinging to his clothes froze; icy crystals stinging against bare skin.

Your chuckle was barely audible over Wonwoo’s hiss of discomfort. Heat flushed through his veins, melting your attack but the chill remained.

“You know, it's getting really hard to believe you aren’t stalking me,” you called. The rings of water floated around you even with divided concentration. Something like jealousy and awe rooted in his chest.

“How was I supposed to know you’d be out in the woods tonight?”

“I’m just saying it’s convenient that you always show up when I’m alone,” you smirked. “Don’t worry. I didn’t freeze anyone to a wall this time.”

Cover blown, Wonwoo approached the dry river bank. “Speaking of that, you never said ‘thank you’ for saving your life.”

The whip circling your figure sagged back down into the stream. Wonwoo felt a piece of him warm that he was distracting enough to crack your focus so significantly despite the full moon. As you turned, he became privy to just how much visible through the silk bindings criss crossing your chest. “You didn’t save my life but thank you. Now, do you want to fight or can I get back to my training?”

He couldn’t help but focus on the glittering drops of water cradled in your collarbone. How sweet they’d taste on his tongue if given permission.

“I think I’ll watch for now.” He took a seat on the river bank, legs sprawled in front of him, a careful bend of his knees so the tent in his pants became less obvious.

“Suit yourself,” you shrug. The tentacles previously encasing you rose once again.

It was entirely inappropriate to ogle a woman in nothing but her underclothes. If Wonwoo was a better man he’d leave, or at least have the decency to pretend he wasn’t staring like a starved wolf. But you were spectacular, flowing through different forms with ease that even the best trained guards in his unit would envy. You bent and stretched and twisted suggestively beneath the moonlight.

If you had a weakness, it didn’t show. You bent the river to your will easily, skill that only came with years of trial and failure. Wonwoo stopped admiring the sight of bare skin and focused on your strength as you flowed into the more advanced forms. Thick branches hanging over the river snapping clean from nimble water whips, tree trunks peppered with ice daggers the size of his forearm.

He couldn’t help sending a disc of flame to cut off your next water whip, collapsing it into the grass as you stared indignantly.

Another stream met a tongue of fire from his fist, a burst of steam left in its place. This time you face him with a huff and Wonwoo simply shrugged.

Wonwoo ignored your next moves. You reached over head in a wide circle, back stretched long, all the muscles and skin obstructed by the frustrating blue fabric. It wasn’t until you froze a wall of water in place that he sent a blast of heat, melting the ice to drench you.

“Oops,” he shrugged, stifling a laugh at your indignation.

It’s not as funny when you dump half the river on him and Wonwoo was left gasping like a fish.

When he could finally breathe again, you smiled innocently with an ‘oops’ of your own.

Then the game was on.

Unlike the disappointing night at the warehouse, Wonwoo kept up this time.

You never sparred with someone who didn’t treat you as something fragile. Even Mingyu, try as he might to entertain your wishes, refused to attack with the full force he was capable of. Wonwoo didn’t harbor the same concern.

Neither of you kept advantage for long. Every water whip evaporated before landing, each fireball snuffed by a wave. It was invigorating. You stood shaking and sweaty after hours of trading blow for blow, the moon already dipping low in the sky. Wonwoo didn’t appear to be faring any better. The bruises on his jaw were faded but new ones stained his torso, blood trickling down his elbow from a particularly nasty ice blade. Singed holes scattered your leggings but the grass and trees claimed the brunt of damage.

It would have been so much easier to concentrate if he hadn’t shed his shirt after a whip tore a jagged hole across the front, revealing a muscular torso to the pale moonlight. It was horrible knowing what beneath his clothes looked just as good as it felt the other night. Even worse when his pants ripped just above the knee and you caught a glimpse of his thigh.

The entire reason you even snuck out tonight was because of him. His taste, the feel of him pressed against you so intimately. It haunted you day and night – in sleep, while awake, in meetings, when you were all alone. There was nowhere you could go without the memory of his body against yours; nowhere you hadn’t wondered what could have happened in that alley if Mingyu hadn’t walked by.

You needed something to banish the feeling of his mouth on yours, to dissipate the restlessness settled deep in your muscles. While wading knee deep in the river wasn’t a smart idea, there was nothing at the palace that could help. No one wanted to spar, not to the level you could during the days leading up to a full moon. It wasn’t fair to give your all while guards curbed their skills in fear of hurting you.

So you bid an early goodnight, feigning some sort of illness and retired to your room before the sun had set. Once the moon started her venture across the sky you dug in the back of your wardrobe for the dark clothes from days prior. They were wrinkled but served their purpose. With Mingyu standing guard at your apartment entrance, you snuck out the tunnels and into the city beyond the palace walls.

The clearing was exactly what you needed. Plenty of water and space to lose control, trees offering their service as target practice for whatever twisted move your mind conjured. It helped. Your muscles strained with a level of exhaustion unfamiliar to you, enough so that your mind couldn’t roam as easily. But then he plowed through the forest like he owned it. Of course you couldn’t have a moment of peace, the spirits wouldn’t allow you to indulge in serene silence if they could help it. They sent Wonwoo straight to you as an act of retribution for your long list of sins.

But sparring with him burned away some of the tension. If you were fighting with Wonwoo then you couldn’t think about all the other cravings; of finishing what you started against that wall. Sending ice floes at his head kept him far enough away that even if you wanted to pull him against a tree or down to the grass, you couldn’t.

“Is that really all you got?” he taunted. Wonwoo’s pain is clear on his brow, every step closer punctuated by a limp and labored breathing.

“Oh, please,” you grunted, launching a weak ice disc at his head. The wall of fire lapping at your heels disintegrated as Wonwoo dodged. “As if you could handle more.”

Something feral flashed in his eye at the taunt. “Try me.”

Well at least this time he wasn’t so disappointingly easy to overwhelm.

You skated across the clearing. With the river to your back once again, you pressed the advantage and sent wave after wave. Wonwoo narrowly dodged them with well timed kicks, his fire dispersing them into steam. But each volley soaked clearing until he struggled to remain upright on the muddy ground as he approached the riverbank.

With your next attack, he fell on his back with a hard grunt. For a long second he didn’t move and you worried you’d seriously injured him this time.

“Wonwoo?”

His chest rattled with each labored breath as you approached. He looked horrible; a mess of sweat and dirt, hair matted to his head. His eyes flickered with pain as he stared up at you, hesitating to take your outstretched hand before accepting.

Back on his feet, Wonwoo wasted no time tackling you into the water.

Breaking the surface, you screeched, “You jerk!”

“Come on! I got that move from you,” he laughed.

Even in the midst of dunking his head under, your blood warmed at the sound. He gripped your body tightly to his own, pinning your wrists together in one hand, effectively cutting off your bending. But you refused to go down without a fight. Fortunately he didn’t think you’d be formidable at hand to hand combat and while it was true, he was stronger, you slammed your foot against his thigh, breaking Wonwoo’s hold long enough to slip away.

He breached and sputtered before following again. “Where did you learn that?”

You tussled on the shore, shoving handfuls of mud into each other’s hair and skin. Your legs hooked around his waist, rolling until you sat on his stomach.

Bad idea.

You’re close enough to trace the silver scar through Wonwoo’s brow. A fraction lower, his eyes light with the same fire as when you kissed him the other night. Rocks bit through the thin fabric of your pants, jagged against your knees. But Wonwoo was unaware, tilting his chin up to capture your lips.

You bore down on him, sighing into the seductive heat of his mouth. Wonwoo groaned with a curl of his hips. It took all your focus to snatch his hands from your waist and pin them above his head but he didn’t seem to mind as you rained a series of wet kisses down the column of his neck.

He made another desperate sound as you tugged at the water just out of reach, freezing thick cuffs from Wonwoo’s elbow up to his fingertips.

“Gotcha,” you whispered against his throat.

He slumped into the ground, an indignant huff fanning across your forehead. “Very funny.”

“From where I’m sitting, it is.”

You’re smirk dissolved as he rolled his hips once again. The force sending you up his chest, hands bracketing his shoulders in an effort to maintain balance. To your shame, a sharp gasp squeezed from your lungs at the motion.

“What was that?”

His face – barely an inch away – was lax despite his confinement. It’s enticing. The way he’s spread out, chest displayed, muscles stretched; all of him on display, including the stains on his skin tugging at your conscience. Your hand glided down his chest, catching droplets from the stream to heal the fresher injuries. Those muscles flexed under your gentle touch before relaxing. Wonwoo’s eyes closed with a sigh of relief as cuts knitted back together and bruises faded.

“You’re really bad at this,” you said plainly, shifting focus away from the need to rut down.

Wonwoo’s eyes widened for a moment, ears reddening before he sputtered. The realization dawned on you like the icy waters of the river. Oh.

“Not that!” you corrected. “Fighting me. I’d thought you’d be better this time.”

“It’s a full moon,” he argued, eyes closing once again as you mended a scratch along his chin. It wasn’t even bleeding, but the compulsion to touch him was too strong to ignore.

“So? I could fight you with my hands behind my back and still win.”

“Wanna test that theory?”

With a dismissive wave the ice trapping Wonwoo melted before you answered, rising to your feet before you did something stupid. He was healed enough. “I think I’ve done enough damage to your ego.”

He barely reared back his fist for an attack when the same water froze him again. Now, with his arms and legs immobilized, he glared up at you. Predictable.

Without thinking, you pinned his chest down with a muddy foot. You couldn’t help it; something so satisfying as having him at your mercy conjured the reckless parts of your brain. “Yield.”

His eyes followed the line of your leg, up your torso, only pausing on your wet breast bindings for a moment, and then finally met your gaze. “If I don’t?”

“I can leave you here,” you shrugged, only to hide a shiver. “I’m sure you’ll thaw out by noon.”

Perhaps it'd be better to leave him shackled to the ground. You could leave him and get back to the palace before doing anything scandalous. He could still firebend as long as his mouth was uncovered, and after all the noise of the battle none of the wild life would come close before he freed himself. But Wonwoo wasn’t fond of the idea of waiting until morning to leave.

“Fine,” Wonwoo huffed. “I yield.”

The ice melted again, soaking his pants. No sooner did you turn around, Wonwoo sent a lick of flame at your ankle and, in your attempt to dodge, you sprawled next to him with a hard thud.

“You yielded,” you groaned in pain.

“I’m a sore loser.” Wonwoo rolled to his side, the weight of his gaze heavy on your face. One of his hands found the strip of skin between your bindings and your legs, tracing it with maddening pressure. How easy would it be for him to slip that same hand beneath your pants and touch you again. “Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

“I practice a lot.”

“With who? Assassins?.”

One of your eyes opened to glare. “I watched a few of your matches. You’re…predictable.”

“I never saw you at the warehouse before.”

“Yeah well, I didn’t want to be seen.”

Wonwoo took the opportunity to cover your body with his own, a thigh back between your legs and pressed just right against your center. His mouth found the sensitive spot beneath your jaw as he crumbled your defenses. You could afford to indulge a little bit; some kissing, more of that mind numbing friction from the market. Just to set your nerves at ease, untangle that insufferable knot in the pit of your stomach.

“And why is that?”

Before you can answer, Wonwoo kissed you again but this time you were prepared; surging up to meet him like a tidal wave.

Somehow, the weight of his body like that was even better than when he crowded you against the wall; heavy and satisfying for you to grind against, chasing warm friction. This time he touched without restraint, tugging at your bindings until they fell slack, committing the new swaths of bare skin to memory with his mouth and wandering hands.

His tongue traced the slope of your breast, the chill in the forest pinching your nipples tight for his teeth to take one between.

“Oh,” you moaned, fingers tangled in his hair, urging him to give more. Wonwoo offered the sting of a bite, sucking harder when you made the same depraved sound. You felt it everywhere, down to your core where he pressed against you with a kick of his hips. Far better than when you tried touching yourself after he had lit a consuming hunger in your veins. As if Wonwoo knew the spots driving you mad better than you ever would.

No one was around to hear the way you gasped his name as his hand snaked between your legs, the heel of it nothing short of mind numbing as it rocked against your clit.

“Still predictable?”

You leveled your gaze with his, furious at the confidence you found. During the spar you met him blow for blow. This would be no different, just a new stage.

“You’re hard and trying to scandalize the wildlife after I kicked your ass,” you stuttered through the last bit because Wonwoo curled his fingers against a spot you didn’t know existed. “You’re incredibly predictable.”

You touched him just as eagerly; dipping beneath the tight cling of his pants and fisting his cock with false bravado.

He stopped when you thumbed the leaking tip, huffing against your chest with a throaty groan of his own before continuing with renewed energy. Wonwoo pressed himself through your loose grip, back and forth and back and forth with that mesmerizing hardness that was soft like velvet and hotter than any fire he’d attacked you with; each cant in time with the way you rocked against him. Until he followed your lead and dipped his hand beneath your leggings, calloused fingertips sliding timidly as you writhed beneath him.

“Wonwoo, please.” You needed something, anything. He kept his teeth at your breast, sucking and licking while a finger shallowly dipped inside you.

“Tell me what you want,” he gritted, pulling until you sat back in his lap completely bare from the waist up, the silk of your bindings left on the ground.

I don’t know! I don’t know, tell me what I need, you thought; but you'd rather die than admit inexperience. Instead, you acted on instinct. Each rock of your hips proved it was the right path, the tight press of his fingers better with the new angle as you clung to him. You sank further into it, Wonwoo encouraging you to take whatever you wanted.

It was too much and not enough. Your chest thrusted forward with every motion, and the hand cupping you gently turned into rough pinches hard enough to sting; his mouth the same.

Maybe you could sneak out of the palace every night for this, or sneak Wonwoo in. It wouldn’t be too difficult. He could give this to whenever you needed, no one the wiser as you bared yourself between the sheets for his eyes only.

“So fucking wet.” He punctuated the observation with another finger, palm rocking into that explosive place again and again. You’re knocked off-balance. Knees spread wide to accommodate and Wonwoo took full advantage to brush your hand away from his cock and pull you further into his lap, both hands beneath your bottoms; perfect to roll against as he leaned back to watch. “Don’t seem disappointed now.”

You swam through the beginning of something, Wonwoo’s voice grounding you back down to reality. The goading you could do without but it’s a small price to pay. As long as he maintained the wet slide of your core, he could say whatever he wanted. Your mouth dropped open, head tilted back as your thighs quaked.

“I—” you gasped. All at once the world snapped into a million stars.

He kissed you; your chest, your throat, cheeks, lips. Anywhere Wonwoo could reach was stained with the warmth of his mouth as you shuddered with teary eyes, raking pink lines into his chest. He swallowed each wrecked sound until you kissed back with shaky breath.

“You’re dirty.”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed.

His humor exploded against your cheek, laughter tickling your ears as he dragged a finger across your collarbone. He meant the mud caked to your back, knotted in your hair. But you couldn't focus on the ridiculousness. Wonwoo was still hard, the dewy tip of his cock peeking from the band of his pants. The sight made your chest ache.

The laughter turned to a stunted moan as you gripped him once more. You shifted down his thighs to make more room, but Wonwoo kept you close, nipping at your jaw with each stroke. It’s unlike anything you felt before, the power, the thrill of undoing him, watching as he crumbled into a panting mess beneath your fingers. You pulled his hair and licked behind his teeth.

“O-oh. Fuck,” he groaned. His head fell back, the smooth skin of his throat enticing as he swallowed another sound; the pale glow of early dawn sun providing a startling contrast.

Panic flooded your veins. You looked up and found the moon sunk deeper to make room for the new day.

You were late.

“Shit. Shit. I have to go.” You scrambled away, snagging your bindings. They were disgusting but you had no time to wash them. At least the shirt you snuck out in would hide the wreckage. You tied them tight, whipping around to find the rest of your clothes.

“What?” Wonwoo blinked, as if he was waking from a dream; eyes glazed, cock dewy and pink in his lap as he stared up at you.

You flushed, tempted to sit back down and pretend it was a mistake. The voice whispering in the back of your head wanted nothing to do with responsibilities and obligations. You wanted this. To be reckless and enjoy what Wonwoo offered, and feel the way he responded when offered the same.

But the pale morning light brought reality with it.

“I’m sorry. I—” There was nothing else you could say. No explanation that wouldn’t leave you both with heartache. So you kissed him softly, long and slow, until Wonwoo’s fingers tickled back across your hips and you remembered you had to go. Now. “I’m sorry.”

And then you sprinted home without looking back.

After the beating Wonwoo received into the early hours of this morning, perhaps he should feel the same bruise to his ego like the weeks before when his face resembled the wrong end of a moose dragon. Even with the best healing, his body ached for days after. A constant reminder not only had he lost, but done so in front of one of the biggest crowds the warehouse ever had.

But even though he lost again last night, he’d won enough to walk on clouds like an airbender.

You were distracting while in your element but when you came? He couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. Helpless to the vision of your chin tipped back, spine arched as you moaned his name. Never mind he had to finish himself after you fled, returning to the barracks to hide in the bathroom like a teenager. The memory was enough, it only took a few strokes before he found his own satisfaction; though he preferred to find it with you next time.

Not even the weary day ahead dampened his glow despite the lack of sleep. The Queen rarely visited, and the princess never. But today they planned to, and that meant everything must be in perfect order which included new uniforms starched until Wonwoo could hardly bend.

The courtyard was packed with guards of all levels, cadeats to captains. They spent the morning sparring and working through basic forms under the watchful eye of Commander Aiko, Wonwoo overseeing the training ring. Under the high noon sun, the firebenders maintained a clear advantage over anyone else but Wonwoo conserved his energy for later. Once the Queen arrived, Commander Aiko would no doubt drag him out for a demonstration for the old man to tout as his own accomplishment.

It’d be good to remind the others of his skill, how he earned his rank through nothing but sheer determination. Most of the teasing had faded in the past month but it never hurt to make sure. Just because he lost to you didn’t mean he couldn’t defeat any of them. It wasn’t a fluke, you were just better. Wonwoo admired your skill but next time he’d win.

But he banished those thoughts for now. He’d found you twice – by chance but he still found you – a third time felt inevitable. There was too much unfinished business for him to believe otherwise. When he did have you again, he wouldn’t let you slip away so easily.

It wasn’t until later afternoon that the royal procession arrived, palace guards donned in stark black uniform circling a pair of women like hawk vultures. He couldn’t see the princess’s face from where he stood, only the stretch of silk across her shoulders as Commander Aiko gestured animatedly.

Rumor had it the princess was the most beautiful woman in the kingdom, with soft manners. kind eyes, and a gentle soul. Not that anyone saw her outside the palace. The queen kept her under lock and key, rightfully so as her only heir. But tales of her beauty and warmth flowed freely. She was the kind of princess men went to war for. Sacrificed their lives for.

And as such, most of the men had put extra time into preparing this morning; shaving and hogging mirrors in the bathroom to fix their hair. As if the princess would look upon one of them and find interest in a man with no title, no money, and no influence. The stuff of legends that Wonwoo had no interest in.

Wonwoo supervised the officers as they attempted to throttle one another. Apparently rumors of the princess’ presence inspired their best; it was almost pathetic if he wasn’t impressed by their creativity.

Rone yanked the ground from beneath Pono’s feet, rushing the smaller man forward into his fist covered in rock. The force would’ve knocked Pono unconscious if he hadn’t used the momentum to leap over Rone with a gust of air and slam his knee into his chest. Rone doubled over, gasping for breath.

“That’s enough,” Wonwoo called. “Ura. Tou. You’re up. Try not killing each other this time.”

Ura shook her head. “You light a guy on fire once.”

“Six!” Tou screamed. “You’ve lit me on fire SIX TIMES!”

“Make it seven,” someone on the sidelines cheered.

Ura lunged at To with a fire whip but Wonwoo was distracted with a call of his name before he could see Tou redirect it.

“Captain Jeon, I’d like to introduce you to her Royal Majesty and her granddaughter, Princess Y/N”

Wonwoo, remembering his manners to never turn his back to the royal family, whipped around fast enough everything blurred as he rushed to bow. “Your Majesty, Your Highness.”

“Commander Aiko has told me much about you, Captain Jeon,” a voice greeted him, definitely the Queen from the rich timbre. “I hope you’ll honor us with a demonstration of your skills later.”

“Of course, Your Majesty. It’d be an honor.”

Wonwoo rose and finally got his first glance of the princess. She was even more beautiful than the stories claimed, face glowing in the sun, not a hair out of place. A dress of rich fabric, embroidered with pearls in a wave motif at the collar, hugged her figure but didn’t betray the power beneath.

While he couldn’t vouch for manners, your eyes were anything but kind. If looks could kill, Wonwoo was a dead man walking. His veins froze. Absolutely not. This was not happening. It was a dream, a sick and twisted dream where he made out with royalty in a field without knowing.

It didn’t make sense.

You bowed, eyes averted to your shoes with a greeting in return. The wild energy that possessed you in the field was nowhere to be found; extinguished by faux meekness and rigid posture.

“Jeon,” Aiko started, preening like a peacock. “Give Princess Y/N a tour of the grounds. She’s never seen men in action.”

Wonwoo managed to silence his snort of disbelief but couldn’t help the quip dripping from his tongue. “Oh, I doub—”

“A tour would be wonderful, Captain Jeon,” you cut him off. Your teeth gleamed like knives, gaze pointed. The wildness was still there and a bolt of fear flashed through him.

“Of course, Your Highness.”

Wonwoo spun on his heel, leading you to the far side of the training ring while Ura and Tou lulled into a standoff, circling one another warily. He couldn’t help but feel you and him were doing the same.

Embarrassment, betrayal. It’s why you hadn’t told him your name, he realized. Not at the warehouse, not at the market, not even in the field. You played him for a fool again and again. And he let you

Tou knocked Ura’s left leg out from beneath her with a blazing kick. She fell to her knees but Ura rolled just in time to avoid Tou’s fist, dragging an arch of flame up with her heel and forcing Tou back.

You hovered beside Wonwoo, silently watching the fight. He refused to look at you because if he did then no doubt someone would notice his anger. And why would he be angry at the princess? Wonwoo never officially met you, this is technically the first time he’s ever seen you let alone spoken to you.

From opposite sides of the training ring, Ura and Tou’s both thrust their palms forward to summon fire streams thick enough the air around them shimmers as they collide; blue versus red. The crowd of guards watching stepped back, tugging at their collars. Wonwoo was tempted to step forward and join the fight, work out some of the restless annoyance burning beneath his skin.

“Impressive,” you commented, features tinged golden by the flame.

Wonwoo would have agreed if Ura’s ankle hadn’t quivered. Tou, forever soft for the willowy firebender, refused to take advantage of her weakness. He’d throw a hundred matches before using Ura’s injury against her. And Ura knew it.

“Is that all you’ve got to say?”

“You don’t exactly seem interested in any sort of conversation,” you shot back.

You were right. Wonwoo didn’t want to talk anymore than he wanted to pull his own teeth out. What he wanted was to wake from this horrible dream, for Hoshi to come out of the woodwork and reveal this was all an elaborate prank.

Wonwoo winced as Ura grappled Tou down to his knees, slinging her arm around his neck and pulling him into a chokehold. Then he turned to look at you. “Pardon me for coming to terms with the fact I got into a fist fight with royalty. It’s a first for me.”

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“I didn’t plan this.” You have the sense to look ashamed, eyes on the ground Tou wiggled out of Ura’s grip and scrambled to his feet.

“Do you know how much trouble I could get in if anyone found out I tried to fight you? I could be executed.”

“That wasn’t—” You stopped abruptly, chest expanding with a deep breath. “You said you were from the Middle District. How was I supposed to know you were a part of the Crown’s Guard?”

“I am from the Middle District.”

Your fingers bunched in the pleats of your robes. “But most of the guards are from the Noble's Quarter.”

“I’m not like most men. But I don’t expect you to understand what it means to earn something.”

“I think I earn my victories quite well,” you spat. “Perhaps you would like another demonstration, Captain Jeon.”

In the ring, Ura and Tou came to a standstill. The inky braid coiled on Ura’s head had long unraveled, tangled and lopsided as it hung down her back. Tou’s new jacket was signed at the collar, cuffs smoldering as well. They looked like they were having the time of their lives.

Wonwoo waited a long moment before speaking again. It would do no good to insult you. Already the darkest corners of his anger were brightening. “That was…unkind of me. I apologize.”

“Your insults are as deficient as your bending,” you smiled and strode away leaving Wonwoo to follow like a scorned puppy.

Ura and Tou waned but continued.

“Why don’t either of them give up?” you asked.

“Ura agreed to marry Tou if he could beat her in a fight.”

“I thought relations between guards were forbidden.”

“They are. It’s why Tou refuses to take advantage of her weak ankle.”

“Then why would she…”

“If you’re asking me to explain their relationship then I have no answers,” Wonwoo replied as Tou finally yielded and another pair of troops took their place. “You’re lucky most of the guards don’t go to those matches or we’d both be in serious trouble.”

“If none of the other guards go, why were you there?”

“I’ve been doing it for years. They pay well and I needed money.”

Wonwoo leaves the rest unsaid. What other reason did a Middle District kid have to fight other than money? He took his beatings in the public arena for years because coin was coin. He never planned to become skilled enough to start winning. But when he did, after years of blood, sweat, and tears, he was good enough for the Crown Guard to take notice and Seungcheol to bring him into the fold before retiring. Now, Wonwoo had a free place to sleep, albeit it was barely large enough for him and the four other men he shared it with, all on bunk beds. But it was far better than the fifty man barrack he started in years ago. There were free meals and hot showers and his patrols through the Noble's Quarter rarely were more than counting the number of steps through his route before he ended up back where he started.

The fighting kept his skills sharp in the way training couldn’t. Commander Aiko didn’t like his cheap shots or the scrappiness Wonwoo learned in the ring. They were ‘undignified’ for one of the Royal Army, especially the Crown’s Guard. But more often than not, they were the edge he had on the other officers.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I never intended to put you in such a difficult position. I just—”

“You just what, Your Highness?”

“Don’t call me that,” you spat before softening. “How am I supposed to be Queen if I’m not allowed to actually see my kingdom?”

Seeing your kingdom felt like an odd way to describe what you and Wonwoo had been doing away from wandering eyes but he didn’t dwell.

“Probably not by lying.”

“Or by freezing men to walls.”

The attempt at humor softened and soured Wonwoo’s mood all at once. Rationally, he knew he should be angry. Furious even. But it was not that simple. If he was in your shoes, what would he have done? Probably far worse than sneaking out for a night on the town. Even too many hours at the barracks had a way of making him crave for the anonymity of the city streets he grew up on.

Wonwoo was not angry, annoyed maybe. Even as you stood, wrapped in the finest silks he’d ever seen with enough sapphires and pearls pinned in your hair for him to buy a village, it was pity he felt rather than disdain. To be forced to hide the wildness you possessed behind pretense and perform exactly what was expected of you. Could he blame you for wanting a break from it all?

Judging by the hopeful look on your face you wanted to leave the entire ordeal in the past, same as him.

“That might help you on the throne.”

You smiled and looked back at the two men sparring in the ring who were fighting with swords, the smaller one locking their hilts together and twisting until the larger man was forced to release his weapon.

He’d be infatuated with you but that was all it was; all it could be. A funny story to remember years and years from now, when his children’s children were grown. They’d call him crazy for rambling about how he once knew the princess.

He couldn’t help his next question. “And everything else? Are you sorry for that too?”

A blight of confusion twisted your face before your eyes bulged. Years of etiquette schooled your features swiftly but Wonwoo felt pleased to see you off kilter as he felt, however brief. You should be just as uncomfortable with the looming consequences of what happened in that field as he was.

The satisfaction didn’t last long.

You turned to face him head on, leveling him with a heavy gaze. “Are you?”

Wonwoo choked.

It seems the fire from before was not completely snuffed out under pounds of finery.

“I think I’ve seen enough of the grounds. It's quite warm and I feel myself growing faint.”

When he finally regained his senses, Wonwoo followed several steps behind, face tinged red. Hopefully everyone mistook it as a result of a day in the sun rather than a battle of wits.

Commander Aiko and the Queen ceased their conversation as you approached them..

“What do you think of our troops, Your Highness?” Aiko asked.

“They are very impressive, Commander,” you smiled.

By some great miracle, Aiko stood fifteen feet taller with your compliments. It itches at the back of Wonwoo’s brain that a compliment could slip off your tongue so easily towards others but not towards him.

“I’m pleased my men are up to your standards. Captain Jeon is one of my best, you’ll be completely safe in his care during next month's festivities.”

“Pardon?” you and Wonwoo asked at the same time.

Aiko frowned. “Her Majesty insisted on additional protection due to the increased presence at the palace. Surely, she informed you?”

“She did,” you nodded. “But wouldn’t Captain Jeon’s expertise be more valuable elsewhere? It’d be a shame for his skills to be wasted guarding me when we will be surrounded by allies.”

“In the event something might go wrong, is it not better to have someone as trained as he is to protect you?”

Wonwoo wanted to argue that you were more than capable of protecting yourself. But clearly your bending talents were a secret, at least to Commander Aiko. Perhaps that was for the best; the element of surprise was a powerful tool, one you wielded well. A glance at your blanked expression all but confirmed it.

Aiko continued, “You are next in line, therefore your safety is second only to the Queen herself. Captain Jeon would be honored to serve you.”

The old man leveled Wonwoo with an expectant look, giving him two options: reject the position and directly insult the crown and his commanding officer, inadvertently signing his own death warrant. Or accept, play minder for however long was required. Then he could return to his life and pretend none of this ever happened.

“It would be my honor to serve the royal family and her Highness.”

Wonwoo convinced himself that the disappointment in your eyes was wishful thinking.

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loudclan-clangen · 1 month ago

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Loudclan - Moon 29: Part 3

Things are gonna get a bit darker than they have been in the second half of this moon. Be warned and check the tags! Happy Spooky Season!

The sun is ever-present in the summer sky. It sits vigil alongside the clan. Soon after the bodies arrive at camp a patrol sets out to track the rogues, but finding that they have already crossed Shadedclan's territory, it is decided that the opportunity for revenge has passed. They'll double patrols and wait to see if the murders try to cross the territory on their way home. Many are upset, but few argue. As the sky begins to lose it's duskiness, the vigil is ended, the bodies buried, and the clan cats left to filter back into camp at their own pace. Wildfirecry excuses himself to clear his head, while Dancepaw attempts to bridge the gap with the only brother he has left.

Seeing Rosehiptree will be left alone in the burial place, Songpaw decides to stay for a while.

It takes Wildfirecry three days to find the farm cats.

There are Forestclan traditions that were never passed on to Loudclan. Rites that were deemed too dark to touch the newborn clan and thus were cast aside. But here, miles past the valley territories, they live on.

Wildfirecry returns to Loudclan's camp a week after the vigil having lost two lives. No one questions where he has been. The scent of rancid dried blood still lingers despite a fresh coat of oil, and his wounds, while closed, are unmistakably fresh. The clan returns to an uneasy normalcy.

[Whoo! I did it! This moon was INCREDIBLY hard for me. The first part relies so much on my dialogue skills, which, is the part of comic-making that comes least easily to me, and the second part is super experimental, which was so much fun, but also mentally tiring. (On that note please let me know if it's like impossible to see. I meant for it to be a bit difficult to make out, but it's hard to gage between my ipad and my laptop whether it will be readable for all of you. I can fiddle with the color grading tomorrow if necessary.) And finally, Rosehip's experience here is really, really close to my heart. That means that her scenes here are ones that I really wanted to write, but also that I had to take a couple of breaks to make sure that I wasn't wearing myself down too much, so sorry that it took longer than I thought and I haven't been able to answer as many asks as I had hoped to. Anyway, despite early difficulty I had a GREAT time finishing this moon up and I'm happy with how it turned out! Songpaw and Rosehiptree are keeping the trauma dump to best friends pipeline alive and I love them for it. Erminekit is kinda being a brat but he really just wants to be there for his best friend and everyone is getting in the way! He doesn't really get the concept of "giving someone space". As far as Moon 30 I have a science class that I'd like to get finished by the end of the month, so it will probably be a minute. Hope you guys enjoy!]

First Moon

Next Moon

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buckets-and-trees · 6 months ago

Text

EVERY MINUTE OF IT

Characters/Pairings: Alpha!Bucky x Female!Omega!Reader Word Count: 4k Summary: Claimed unequivocally by Alpha Bucky Barnes, leader of the growing HYDRA faction, that's not the end of it. But what exactly is in store for you? What will it mean to be his Omega?

Content/Warnings: omegaverse; reluctant attraction; power dynamics; mild manipulation; threats; dirty talk; explicit smut: spanking, vaginal fingering, biting, rough sex, choking, edging, orgasm denial, slapping, spitting, oral (male and female receiving), unprotected vaginal intercourse and insemination, dacryphilia, overstimulation, erotic picture taking

Author Notes: Part three to what I never planned on being a series - the Alpha Bucky April drabble was only 500 words, the next part hit 1.5k, but this... well, let's just say this Bucky absolutely had his way with both me and my muse. This one will be a make up to tick orgasm delay/denail for MARCH of @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo ; and the dialogue, alpha, and pet prompts for the second week of Hot Bucky Summer (thought this was going to be a short little thing I was going to whip out before week two had finished, but alas hahaha).

A/N 2: We've seen only a bit of his rough side up to this pont, but in this part we will truly see mean Alpha Bucky. Don't say I didn't warn you - here and with the actual content warning list.

A/N 3: I tried not to write any plot with this porn, but a minimal amount forced its way in.

He had made good on his threat, using your body for pleasure and for show under the full moon until there was no one left to watch, but you were not sure he had been keeping close track, instead merely taking you over and over until they grey hours of dawn. You had been too exhausted to register anything much after that – being carried away, a car ride, being tucked into a bed.

You had woken up in the afternoon alone.

Alone for the first time in three days.

On hearing you make your way to the bathroom someone had brought in water and left an impressive spread of food that lasted you through the afternoon and evening. You grazed and slept.

Your body and mind had been pushed beyond all previous limits, and so the sleep and rest had been most of those first few days after the full moon and the conqueror’s bonding ritual.

But now, a week on, you are tired, restless, and impatient.

You were in a spacious penthouse, you had been offered many luxuries, well fed by a personal chef, attended to by an assistant, your only restrictions being denied access to a phone or internet and barred from leaving the premises.

Should you have chosen an unplugged retreat or vacation, it would be perfect.

After contemplating and debating internally all morning, at lunch you make your decision. You finish yet another delicious meal, wipe your mouth with the beautiful linen napkin, and then set it down next to the bone china and plated gold utensils. The staff begins to move around you, and your assistant approaches.

Before she can say anything else, you take a deep breath and say, “I need to see him.”

There’s no question of who you mean.

She nods. “I’ll make the request.”

Whether pet or prisoner and left alone for more than seven days, you do not believe your request will be seen as any sort of priority, so when you see the more formal dining table set for two for dinner, your mouth drops open for a moment, and you stop in your tracks.

You turn to your assistant – even though she tries to afford you most of your privacy, she is ever on the edge of your presence. She looks as surprised as you. “I was given no response other than that they’d take the request under consideration.”

You nod, then pace, padding barefoot across the hardwood floor in front of floor-to-ceiling windows, until you finally hear the rustle and then commotion of activity that announces his arrival.

Your heart races, but it’s only a few more moments before the large and imposing alpha, Bucky Barnes, appears in front of you.

“Omega,” he says with a mere nod of his head, no pretense.

Your eyes narrow a fraction, wary of his seemingly easy demeanor. “Alpha.”

“Shall we?” he asks, and motions to the table.

You nod and take a seat as he does.

Within seconds, the meal is brought in by two attendants and the chef, and Bucky thanks and praises them very simply.

He occasionally looks at you, regarding you, but does not speak.

Before long, you huff, and he looks up sharply, pinning you with his steel blue eyes, harsher than at any point since he’d arrived. “What?” he demands.

“What is all of this?” you start, gesturing your hand to indicate the penthouse. “And where have you been?”

He sets down his knife and fork and straightens a little more. “Is it not to suited to your liking? You can change anything you want. This is your place.”

“My place?” you ask.

“Yes, your place. It is not far from the place I’ve taken up residence.”

The revelation is not surprising, but somehow more irritating. “And what? You’ve had me and now you’re discarding me?”

“I should have thought you’d want your own place.”

Maybe you should want your own place, away from him. And yet…

“I should be wherever you are.”

“What?” he scoffs. “So you can be embroiled in my affairs and bring me down? ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?’”

The accusation wounds you, though you know it’s only logical – and you know what you’re thinking and feeling isn’t logical. You have determined to put off thinking about it.

“I’m not your friend,” you state, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. “but I’m not your enemy either.”

“What should I call you then?” he challenges.

You raise your chin a fraction. “I’m your Omega.”

He doesn’t speak or move immediately. Instead, his eyes somehow fix you even more intently. There’s a burning in your chest under his scrutiny, but you remain still.

Finally, he stands and moves toward you, the two of you never taking your eyes off the other.

“You are my Omega.”

He comes to stand behind your chair, and you remain unmoving. He takes your chin in his left hand and tilts your head to expose your neck to him. He leans down and noses along your jaw, inhaling your scent and putting your body on alert. You feel the curling tendrils of want stir in your core, already awakening for him. He tilts your head even more and draws his teeth along the side of your throat, causing a shiver you can’t suppress, and he chuckles darkly and licks at the fresher of the two bonding marks he gave you. His hot tongue, insistently pressing at the bite elicits a small noise from you, and your right hand shoots up to card into his hair. Your full omega side wants him, has started to slicken your pussy for him already, you can feel it. You know your alpha can smell it.

He bites over the mark, but not roughly enough to break the skin, and you arch up for more, but he pushes himself back up, away from you and the crook of your neck.

“So needy,” he remarks, “I like this.”

The first few days you’d spent with him, he’d kept you full of his cock, tortured with pleasure, overwhelmed, exhausted by him and the recipient of a seemingly insatiable lust unleashed on you.

This feels like the predator is going to play with his prey, and you bite your lip. He pushes your head, tilted to the left, to the right to drop into his other hand, clearly testing your compliance. It’s gentle, but it’s dominant. Back to the left, then to the right, and then he dips to nip at your ear, and you gasp.

Bucky releases your head from between his large hands then pulls your chair away from the table. “Up.”

You stand. He puts one hand on your hip and ushers you around the edge of the table and to the side, in the middle, and turns you to face the wide expanse of mahogany and its centerpiece of fresh flowers – white peonies, white roses, white hydrangeas.

“Put your hands on the table,” he instructs.

You press the palms of your hands onto the smooth, dark wood. Your omega side is ready – even eager – to comply, but with your own long game to play, you know you must play out whatever game he desires now.

“Arch your back,” is his next direction.

Keeping your breathing even, you do, hips jutting away from the table, on display for him.

The back of his hand lands at the nape of your neck, and he drags his knuckles slowly down your spine. Your body rocks back, seeking more, as he reaches the small of your back, and he hums in self-satisfaction.

While his vibranium hand plants itself on your hip, he moves the other around to skim slowly over your stomach, then up your rib cage, and to your breast. He gropes the round flesh through your shirt and bra, but the fabric does nothing to quell how the pressure stokes the fire growing in you.

You feel the heat of him press up your back as his hand moves now up your neck, turning your head to kiss him. You push back against him, and he ruts his bulge slightly into your ass. Your lips are hungry in the kiss, but it’s like he only provided his lips for you to kiss him, receiving what your lips want to give. He moves his hand back down to your chest, but this time slipping beneath the neckline and going flesh to flesh to palm your breast. He kneads diligently, almost methodically, and you know all of this is designed to warm you up, tease you, get you burning for him. He’s still largely a stranger to you, but you also know you can’t resist him. He’s spent so much time already playing with your body. He knows where and how to touch you to make you respond to him after those first days and nights spent naked with him.

Bucky moves again, ending the kiss, drawing away from your back and removing the hand from your breast. You whine, but that hand goes to the small of your back again, the vibranium hand squeezing your hip as he forces you spine to resume the curving posture for him once more.

“We’re only getting started, Omega. Be patient.”

You huff, and he laughs.

The fingers of both his hands slip into the top of your waistband. He slowly pulls your pants and underwear down over your hips, and down your legs to mid-thigh. It restricts your bottom extremities, and that plays into the mental game he’s clearly playing with you. His hands move up the back of your naked thighs, and then palms your ass with both hands. He squeezes both cheeks, goes back to palming them again, then withdraws his right hand and slaps that cheek harshly. You jump and yelp, but he merely goes back to palming and squeezing, soothing the smacked flesh. Then another slap, and you hiss at the sting over the first sting. His vibranium hand continues groping your round flesh, but instead of soothing the second smack, his flesh hand dips down to your dripping hole, where he inserts two fingers, then quickly adds a third.

“Alpha,” you moan, and your head falls back, eyes closed both to hold back a couple of tears and to soak in the barrage of sensations.

He doesn’t answer, but his fingers continue dipping in and out, slow and shallow.

He delivers another harsh slap, immediately returns to the maddening fingering until you’re keening and trying to hump his hand.

Abruptly he grips your hips with both hands and turns you around to face him. The cool metal hand grips you by the neck, tilting your face up helplessly to him, and this kiss is messy, demanding, teeth nipping at your lips. You kiss him back as well as you can as he is in full control of your head and holds you where he wants you. Both your hands hold tightly to his forearm, and you squeeze.

His other hand goes to the cut of you again below, but there’s more fervor there this time. He plunders your mouth and plunders your pussy, and you’re losing your breath, but you have no wish for him to relent as you feel the powerful orgasm you crave building and barreling towards you. His fingers curl against the spongy spot on your inner wall, this thumb is demanding against your pulsing clit, and his tongue is licking dominantly into your mouth. You’re trembling and clutching at him, moaning, only when your breath hitches, inches away from bliss, he pulls back.

You cry out as he looms over you. His smirk is cruel, and his eyes spark with fire.

“Alpha!”

He licks his one of his fingers, just one.

“Alpha, please,” you groan.

“My well-mannered Omega,” he coos. “We’ll make a mess of you yet,” he says. You’re unsure whether it’s a threat or a promise, but you have no space or time to think as he moves you again, hoisting and pushing you by the grip on your chin around and away from the table until your back is flush against the wall.

Bucky pushes you down to your knees, pinches your mouth open, then spits on your tongue. "Swallow it."

You don’t think, just swallow as his eyes bore into yours as he towers over you.

He strokes his thumb over your cheek – nearly a caress, and you can’t help leaning ever so slightly into his touch. Then his thumb moves from your cheek to your lips, tracing them before pressing down to open your mouth again. He inserts two of the fingers that had been in your cunt into your mouth, and you close your mouth and begin to suck without him having to say so. The look on his face shows his approval. As you suck, there’s something so soothing about, the weight of his fingers pressing down on your tongue, the stead rhythm, that it that lulls you even further into a state of submission for him. Your eyes begin to droop.

He chuckles and withdraws his fingers, wiping them on your face. “Don’t want that so soon in our evening.”

He begins to unbuckle his belt, and you reach for the button and zipper, but he bats your hands away and slaps your cheek.

You look up sharply at him, reaching to soothe your cheek.

“Ask nicely for your Alpha’s cock, Omega.”

His first nights with you were about physical domination. This is the other half, yielding, submission.

You think best how to ask, before saying, “Please let me put my lips around your cock, Alpha.”

He unbuttons his trousers but keeps his eyes on yours. “Tell me how you want me to use your mouth, Omega,”

“I…” you bite your lip. You aren’t a stranger to sex, but speaking so directly about it isn’t something you’ve done with any of your partners in the past.

Bucky lowers the zipper. He pushes the band of his boxers down far enough to free his cock, and you whimper. He fists his arousal slowly. “You want it, then tell me what you want exactly. You’ve already let me use your body in so many ways, we both know you want more. What are you craving?”

You wait only another beat before answering, “Want you to fuck my throat.”

You are impressed at the evenness of your own tone in that moment, and his lips tick up as well.

Bucky widens his stance, then leans down to wrap his left arm around your head, holding it – almost cradling it – in the crook of his elbow. The he pushes his cock to your lips, you open for him, he pushes in, and starts truly fucking your mouth. The first few thrusts are slow, but insistent. He fills your mouth with more of him with each of those first thrusts. Then the head of his cock hits the back of your throat. He thrusts out and in again, again, again. His other hand strokes your cheek. Then he slaps it, and you groan around his cock.

“Mmmm, fuck you feel good,” he echoes your groan. “Gonna take all of your alpha’s cock down this pretty throat,” he says, and his hand moves down to your neck, feeling himself push in there.

Your eyes are tearing up, and the tears quickly start to spill over as he continues to use your throat, never removing himself completely now that he’s overtaken your mouth. He slaps your cheek twice in quick succession and you sob around his cock as you can manage. It’s hard to breathe, and your chest heaves. You brace yourself against his thighs, and he straightens and pulls out of you.

Bucky moves quickly, taking you by the shoulders and tossing you into the middle of the floor – rough but not violent.

“Clothes off,” he barks, but it’s he didn’t need to employ an alpha command to get you to comply. You barely have enough time to discard your pants and underwear the rest of the way, and only manage to get your shirt over your head in the time it takes him to get naked.

He’s on you the next instant, covering your body with his. With his chest pressed down against yours, you feel how his breathing is just as heavy as your own, glad he’s not as unaffected as he’s tried to play this encounter.

You hitch your thighs up around his torso and squeeze your knees around him.

But he doesn’t give you what you’re most anxious for yet, instead pausing to study your face.

“Such a pretty mess,” he admires.

Heat pulses through your body, his praise undeniable to your omega side.

He dips his head to lap up the salt of some of your tears, tongue dragging slowly up your cheek. When he draws back again, he merely looks at you. His eyes seem to be looking for something, but you don’t know what. You try not to give him anything outside of this moment.

His pelvis is lodged between your hips, so you squirm beneath him, hoping your hot, dripping cunt will call him back to your pressing needs. He groans and drops his forehead to yours, another sign he’s not as cool and detached as he was at the outset.

“Please, please fuck me, Alpha,” you beg.

“Fill you up with my cock? With my seed?”

“Yes, Alpha!”

He draws his hips back and you reach down and help line up his cock with your hole. He spears in with no mercy, and you don’t need or want it. You groan together as he fills you completely.

Your mouths meet again, and it’s a combination of rough messy kisses, nipping and bites, licking, mingled heavy breaths. It’s primal and unhinged, and there’s no thought to it as he continues to fuck you.

The pace at which he thrusts is relentless and just what you need, but also not enough.

You want more and you whimper and beg through kissing for it.

Bucky continues fucking you and pulls away from your lips, but in no way is he done overwhelming you. Leaning heavily onto his vibranium arm planted next to your head, he moves his other arm and presses his inner wrist up and down your neck insistently. The sound that escapes your mouth is broken and needy as the flooding of his scent directly In and around you engulfs your senses. Then he’s also sucking on your original bonding mark until you are a heaving, panting, crying mess, clawing at his back, unable to even put coherent words together to beg for him.

His shifts just enough that his pubic bone grinds down against your clit as he pounds into your pussy. You are practically vibrating with the impending orgasm, and as your alpha can undoubtedly sense that through the bond, he bites down on your mark, and you scream and fly into your release. Your walls clench hard around him, and he growls through two more powerful thrusts before he shouts, and you feel the heat of his seed star to fill you up. He pumps and pumps until he’s left every drop he can inside of you, then collapses on top of you.

He doesn’t move, pressing you down with all his weight as you both recover from the ecstasy you’ve just experienced. You almost move to stroke your fingers up and down his spine, but you quell that impulse. You do allow yourself to keep your hands on his back though – still, but connected to this man, your alpha, who dealt you such rough but undeniable pleasure.

Finally, Bucky pushes up off you, but surprises you when he scoops you up and carries you away bridal style, heading toward your bedroom.

“Alpha?”

“You really want to live under the same roof?” he asks.

“Yes,” you answer simply.

He glances down at your face, brows furrowed, then looks back ahead as he heads down the hallway.

“Okay then.”

“Yes?”

“Yes,” he affirms, entering your room.

He tosses you onto the bed, and crawls up over you again. He reaches beneath your back to unclasp your bra, and you let him pull it from your shoulders and toss it off to the side. Closing the gap between your bodies, you relish the feeling of his bare chest against yours, his chest hair teasing your nipples. He grips your chin yet again, this time with his vibranium hand, and looks into your eyes with a steely, cold stare.

“If you’re anything other than the good omega I require, I will send you back here, but it won’t be like this last week has been. You will be in absolute exile. Don’t test me – there will be no chances.”

You give a single nod of your head.

He pushes up and leans back then, kneeling above you.

“But you don’t want to jeopardize or risk that, do you?”

“No, Bucky.”

It’s the first time you’ve called him anything other than alpha and he clocks that, you see the flash of acknowledgement in his eyes.

“You want to be with your alpha, you want the limited freedom you know I can give you if I choose to, but you also have your own agenda”

It wasn’t a question, and you know you can’t fool him – you know he is too smart for that, and you know he knows you are intelligent in your own right. He made it clear when he closed in on your people’s territory that’s why your compliance and claiming you as his omega was part of the deal of surrender to spare any more bloodshed.

“Cross me and your future will only be visitations when I require you to service my ruts.”

You don’t doubt his threat.

“Do we have an accord, Omega?”

“Yes, Alpha.”

The words you two exchanged the fateful night of that initial surrender.

He nods.

“It seems fitting to seal it by kiss.”

You sit up and then kneel before him on the bed, he bends his head down to kiss you. It’s fervent, solemn, but he cuts it off before it develops into anything more.

“Stay here,” he orders, sliding off the bed.

That was an alpha command – wholly unnecessary except to remind you of his power.

You scowl at his retreating form, then huff once he’s out of the room.

He’s quick, and when he comes back in the room, he is slowly stroking his cock with one hand, and holds his phone in the other. He steps up to the edge of the bed.

“A kiss here, as well,” he says, pushing his hips forward.

You crawl to him, lower your head, and kiss his cock. He nods at you, indicating he expects more. You take the tip of his semi-hard cock into your mouth, lave your tongue around the tip, and then suck, looking up at him. He takes a few photos, moaning at your ministrations.

“Fuck you couldn’t look more pretty and more ruined,” he whispers. He tosses the phone down, then pushes you off him and back onto the bed, manhandling your hips to get you planted in the center of the mattress with your thighs splayed open obscenely.

“Only fair for me to finish sealing the agreement and kiss these lips as well.”

He dives in like a man starved, despite the rounds you’ve just finished. He pulls your next orgasm quickly from your fluttering pussy. You would be surprised, only you’ve come to accept that he has already acquired a dangerous – and delicious – knowledge of your body.

He looks up at you and grins and then goes in immediately for another.

You try and push him away and close your legs, feeling overstimulated, but he growls and roughly forces your thighs open again.

“Your one chance of being my good omega is already begun. So, you’re going to let me eat the pussy that belongs to me until you’re a sobbing overstimulated mess and think you can’t possibly take any more, but you will. And since this should be the last night we ever spend in this bed, when I’ve had my fill of lapping at your sweet, dripping cunt, I’m going to see if I can’t fuck you hard and long enough to break the bed.”

You can only hope your gamble to deal with the devil of HYDRA will not be your undoing.

full Fine Line Collection

Everyone check your pulse, please. Mine is gone.

I'm not saying this is officially a series, but I think we HAVE fallen into a collection territory... Unless y'all are through with this Alpha Bucky...

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #alpha bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #female reader #aspen wrote something #fine line collection

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shadowwfoxx · 4 months ago

Text

Eddie's Vest

18+

(reader x steve harrington)

You and Steve were currently in his car on the way to his house. Today was probably one of the scariest days of your life. With Steve getting dragged underwater and almost killed by a demon bat, it was safe to say today made the top 3 most scariest days of your life. The roads were quiet, practically no one else around. You kept glancing over at Steve making sure he was ok.

You had offered to drive due to his injuries, however, he was more worried about your “severe” injuries (a few scratches). His eyebrows were furrowed as he was focusing on the road. He had one hand on the wheel, while his other arm was bent, leaving his elbow to rest where the window was rolled down. The shadows from the moon brought out how toned and muscular they were. You move your eyes further down to his chest.

His chest hair was exposed because of the vest Eddie left him (which you’ll thank him later for). That vest had been distracting you all day. Constantly catching glances and staring for too long. You really couldn’t help it, he just looked insanely hot doing anything with it on. The big white bandage on his stomach brought you back from your ogling. Steve felt your stare, knowing already what you were looking at. He turned to you.

“Hey,” He said as he put his hand on your bare thigh. You look away quickly, looking down at your fingers. “I’m gonna be just fine ok, don’t worry.” He said softly. His big brown eyes going between your face and the road.

You bite your lip as you shake your head. “I should’ve done more to stop you, you should have never swam down there by yourself.” Now feeling angry at yourself and Steve for being so stubborn.

“I’m still here baby I-“

You snap your head to look at him. “What if something horrible happened to you? Huh? What then?” Your tone was firm and loud. Your look was half angry and half sad. Your emotions are all over the place at this point. Steve notices your look.

You both know that you wouldn’t have been able to stop him. He understands your concern and worries for him, but someone had to do it. You both stare at each other for a bit before Steve sighs and looks back at the road, too tired to feed into your lecture. You huff at his silence before looking out your window. You move your legs to face the car door, shrugging Steve’s hand off in the process.

“Seriously babe? Can we not do this right now” Steve says. You can hear the slight irritation in his voice. You both know there is no hatred around the words and actions, rather this lecture is out of pure love. You love Steve and Steve loves you. Had anything happened to him today, you would never be able to forgive yourself.

Your anger towards yourself is being taken out on him. Not to mention your fear of what’s to come with battling the Upside Down. You’re so focused on your thoughts that you don’t even feel the tears escape your eyes. Your sniffling caught Steve’s attention. As he looks over at you, his face softens.

“Oh baby don’t cry.” His voice is soft and comforting. He grabs one of your hands and brings it towards his face. He brings it to his lips and gives the back of your hand a few sweet kisses before he rubs your hand on the side of his face.

You peer out the window, noticing Steve turning to pull into an empty parking lot. He parks the car and lets go of your hand. He then pushes his seat back, away from the steering wheel.

Steve reaches his hand over to pet your hair before putting it behind your ear. You finally turn your head to face him, your lip trembling, your eyes a little red. Your face breaks his heart.

“Please let me hold you.” He begs. That was enough for you to climb over the middle and straddle him, being very cautious of his injury. You wrap your arms around his neck, immediately sighing in relief. Steve immediately wraps his big arms around your shoulders and lower back. You two have not stopped for a second during this chaos to even give each other a much-needed hug. You both fell into a long and comfortable silence, matching each other’s breathing patterns.

“I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” He says in almost a whisper. He rubs your back soothingly.

“It was so scary,” you’re voice cracks.

“I know baby, I know.” He says as he hugs you tighter. He presses a kiss on your shoulder.

“I don’t want any more people to get hurt, I just want it to be over with.” If anyone can understand your stress right now it’s Steve. He just wants to be able to live a normal life with you. Without these dangerous missions and having to constantly look over his shoulders. He knows how exhausted you are from having constant nightmares and how you let your overthinking thoughts take over. Steve grabs your face with his hands and moves your face to face his.

“I won’t let anything happen to you okay? We are gonna get through this.” You look away from his gaze with a slight pout. Steve brings you in for a kiss.

“Turn off that pretty brain of yours ok? Just relax for me.” He goes back in for a kiss, this time it’s longer and deeper. It’s the kinda kiss that can make you go dumb. The kiss starts to get faster, all that can be heard is heavy breathing. The energy in the car shifted so quickly. He pulls away and leans back against the seat while you lean the opposite way, your arms holding onto his knees to stabilize.

You both look at each other up and down. Steve now getting an idea of how to distract you from your thoughts. He leans up, wrapping his hand around your neck, and smashes your lips back into his making you whine. Steve moves down from your lips to your throat, kissing that spot that turns you into putty. You let out a breathy moan.

“I like that vest on you.” You say. Steve lets out a breathy laugh against your neck. “You look hot in it.”

“Oh yeah?” He mumbles against your neck. Steve’s hands move to your hips, grinding your hips against his cock that is now hard. Steve goes back to roughly making out with you. This goes on for a bit before Steve reaches a hand under your skirt and lace panties to feel you.

“You must really love this vest.” You’re practically soaking now. You moan at the contact finally getting some relief. You felt yourself getting wetter with each touch. He continues his circular motions before moving his fingers towards your wet opening. He starts off with one finger. The contact making you instinctively lift up.

“Relax for me baby,” He whispers in your ear. You lean yourself back into the position you were in before, making you feel more exposed to him even though your clothes are still on.

“Fuck your so wet.” He goes in with a second finger, thrusting them deeper and faster. You roll your head back, moaning. Steve’s other hand gripping at your hip to steady you. He then adds a third finger and uses his thumb to brush other your clit. This makes your hips buck up and grind against his hand.

“Oh fuck- Steve” you moan louder. You look down at where everything is happening. Your skirt drapes perfectly over the dirty scene below you. You bunch up the bottom of your skirt together and hold it up reveal the not so pure actions happening underneath it.

“Oh shit honey that’s so fucking hot” Steve chuckles, quickening the pace of his fingers. A squelching noise now echoes throughout his car. You clench around his fingers. So close to your climax. He brings the hand that was gripping your hip to your mouth. Steve rubs his thumb over your lips. You immediately wrap your lips around it, moaning as you swirl your tongue around it.

“Fuck baby come for me.” Steve says, eyes stuck on your mouth. You moan around his finger. He continues his fast and hard pace to help you ride out your high.

After you come down from your high, he removes his fingers and brings them to his lips. He moans at your taste. Now impatient, he quickly lifts his body to remove his pants and underwear. His hard cock slaps at his stomach. His tip was red, dripping with pre cum. You lift yourself up on your knees while Steve lines himself up with you. You lower yourself down on him, catching his tip before sinking down on him. You both gasp at the contact. There was barely any pain as Steve worked you up well. Once you’re fully seated on his cock, you take a minute to compose yourself.

“Fuck your so big.” You whine as you shove your face in the crook of his neck. You and Steve have had sex manyyyy times, but there’s no denying how heavy and big he always feels inside of you. Steve’s hands find their place on your hips squeezing tightly.

Once you get used to his size, you begin to lift up and sink back down. You go slow, still cautious of his injury. But Steve needs more. He loves how caring you are and how you’re trying not to hurt him but he can’t wait any longer. Steve reaches over to pull the lever of the seat to lower it more. He then plants his feet on a higher platform and starts thrusting up into you and hard.

“O-oh shhitt”. You let out a high pitch moan. Steve wraps his hand around your throat.

“Yea? You like when I fuck you hard like that? Fuck all of those bad thoughts out of that pretty head of yours? Hm?” He literally growls at you. You feel hot all over now. You brace yourself on the arm rest. Your mind goes completely blank now, only thing you can process is how good he’s fucking you.

“L-love it. I love it Stevie please.” You moan. Both of your eyes are hooded, completely fucked out as you stare into each other’s eyes. You feel his big, hairy thighs slapping a the back of yours. He starts hitting that sweet spot inside of you causing you to roll your eyes back. You clench hard around him.

“Oh fuck baby do that again-shit.” He says as he throws his head back. You clench around him again. He groans a bunch of curse words as he reaches under you to start giving attention to your clit.

“Oh fuck I’m gonna come please please-oh shit." You can’t even control what comes out of your mouth anymore. Whining and babbling pleads. Your mind feels like mush at this point. You’re overwhelmed with all of the different sensations.

“Yea you gonna make a mess all over my cock? Come on pretty girl come for me.” Your second orgasm hits you hard, legs jerking on either side of him. Your pussy milking around his cock, practically begging him to release inside of you. Steve’s thrust becomes sloppy, signaling he’s close.

“Please Steve fill me up, fill me up so deep please.” That pushes Steve over the edge. His grip around your body tightens, bringing you chest to chest. He fills your ear with groans as you feel his cum fill you up. He gave you one final thrust before stilling inside of you. You both relax against each other, taking a moment to catch your breaths. Steve is the first to break the silence.

“Remind me to thank Eddie for this vest.”

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harringtion x y/n #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #steve harrington x you

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iamgonnagetyouback · 2 months ago

Text

𝟷.𝟼𝚔 || 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 (PART 4)

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: After being the forgotten one your whole life, you thought that they wouldn't forget you.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: poly!marauders x reader

♡ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ : part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

It had been a few weeks since the fallout between you and the Marauders, and though you’d forgiven Remus, you were still waiting on the others to grovel appropriately. Remus had apologized sincerely, and after some much-needed cuddling, you had let it slide. But the rest of the boys? Not so much.

Today, you and Remus were curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, enjoying a quiet moment together when the door to the common room burst open. James, Sirius, and Peter stumbled in, laughing about some prank they'd pulled earlier in the day.

They stopped dead in their tracks when they saw you and Remus snuggled up. Their eyes narrowed suspiciously as they took in the scene.

"Everything alright between you two?" James asked, his voice laced with curiosity, while Sirius crossed his arms, clearly trying to read the room.

You raised an eyebrow at them, already irritated at the question. "Why wouldn’t it be?"

"Well, you know," Sirius drawled, glancing sideways at James, "since Remus is… Remus. And everything." He tried to sound casual, but you could tell he was fishing.

You crossed your arms, glaring at them. "Oh, now you care to talk about it?"

James blinked. "About what?"

Remus sighed beside you, knowing exactly where this was headed. The rest of the boys exchanged confused glances, still pretending they didn’t know what you were talking about.

"Don't play dumb," you said, sitting up and fixing each of them with an annoyed look. "The fact that none of you thought it necessary to tell me that Remus is a werewolf."

Sirius’s face went slack for a second before he tried to recover. "What?! Remus? A werewolf?" He threw his hands up dramatically. "I had no idea—"

Peter asked, confused, "How'd you figur-"

"Oh, please," you snapped, cutting him off. "With all those very visible scars, the four of you disappearing every full moon, and let’s not forget the howling coming from the Shrieking Shack. Do I look like an idiot to you?"

James bit back a laugh while Peter’s eyes widened in panic.

"And the final clue?" you continued, glaring at each of them. "All of you standing me up on our date the day after the full moon. Even Snape could figure it out!"

The mention of Snape's name made them all freeze. You noticed the exchange of guilty glances between them.

“Wait,” you said, gasping as realization hit. “Snape knew?”

They were all dead silent.

You turned to Remus, narrowing your eyes. "Well, congratulations, Lupin. You're officially back on the list."

Remus groaned dramatically. “Not the list.”

The other three burst into laughter, relieved to hear Remus wasn’t fully off the hook either.

"Alright," James said, stepping forward with a cheeky grin. "What’s it gonna take to get off this list?"

You smirked, finally ready to dole out some consequences. "Remus will be doing all of my assignments for the next six months. Except during the full moon, of course.”

Remus let out a breath of relief. "That's not so bad—"

You cut him off with a wicked smile. "I'm not finished. You’ll also be partnering with Lucius Malfoy in Charms class.”

Remus’s eyes widened in horror. “Nooooo! Anyone but Malfoy!”

You ignored his whining and turned to James, who was now grinning as if he’d already won your forgiveness.

"And Jamie here," you said sweetly, reaching out to pinch his cheek, "is going to switch partners with me in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"That’s alright,” James shrugged, clearly thinking he got off easy. "I can handle that."

You smirked. “Then I’ll have Lily, and you’ll have Snape.”

James’s face fell instantly. “W-wait, hold on. You can’t—”

You cut him off with a grin. “Too late. It’s decided.”

James groaned dramatically, flopping onto the nearest couch as if the world had ended.

Next, you turned to Sirius, who was already bracing himself.

“And Sirius,” you said, drawing out his name, “you’ll be spending every evening studying with me in the library. And we both know how much you hate studying.”

Sirius groaned loudly, but you weren’t done.

"Oh, and one more thing," you added with a smirk. "No sex for one month."

His jaw dropped in horror. "NOOOOOOO!"

James burst out laughing, while Remus patted Sirius on the back sympathetically.

Finally, you turned to Peter, who looked the most nervous of them all. "Pete," you said softly, "I really didn’t want to do this, but you’re going to have to give up sweets and candies for an entire month."

Peter gasped in absolute horror, clutching the chocolate bar he was holding as if his life depended on it. You reached out, gently plucking it from his hand.

"Sorry, Pete. It’s the rules."

Peter fell to his knees, dramatically crying out, “Not my sweets! Anything but my sweets!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the theatrics. The boys were always a handful, but at least now they were going to work to earn their way back into your good graces.

"Don’t worry," you said with a smirk. "I’m sure you’ll all manage… eventually."

They groaned collectively, each already dreading the next few weeks.

But you had to admit, watching them squirm like this? Absolutely worth it.

thank you so much @pandainfinitely for the idea to write the grovelling part!!

#james potter x reader #james potter #sirius black x reader #sirius black #fluff #james fleamont potter #remus lupin x reader #james potter fluff #sirius black fluff #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin #sirius orion black #peter pettigrew fluff #peter pettigrew x reader #peter pettigrew

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scarlet-star-witch · 4 months ago

Text

The moon and his sun (Part VII - Final Part)

Aemond Targaryen x Female Reader

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 13.2 K

Warnings: Angst as usual, Aegon testing my patience, smut, and fluff

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 ... Epilogue

She and Aemond had barely spoken since their fight, the strain between them growing with each passing day.

He was always quick to leave their chambers in the early morning, leaving her to break her fast by herself.

She didn’t mind, she found she had trouble even meeting his eye without feeling as though her insides were crumbling into dust, reminding her of how easy it would be to lose him.

It felt like dying a slow, agonizing death.

The door to their chambers opened and she instinctively perked up at the thought of seeing her husband, despite the warring emotions within her, but she immediately froze, fear rising as Aegon strolled inside as if they were his own chambers.

He smiled widely at the sight of her and was quick to take a seat beside her, entirely too close for her liking.

“What are you doing?”

“Joining my sweet sister for breakfast.” Aegon smiled, the gesture anything but innocent as he helped himself to the spread of food in front of him. “Where is my brother?”

“He’ll be back soon.” She answered immediately, as if she could use Aemond’s presence to deter him from staying. But with the way he looked at her intently, it was obvious he didn’t believe her.

He knew the rift between them kept Aemond out of his chambers for hours on end.

With a lump in her throat that grew larger and heavier with each second that passed with Aegon beside her, she kept her eyes down, beginning to sparsely pick at her food.

“You know I never thought much of you.” Aegon began, his gaze never wavering from her tense form that refused to relax in his presence.

She flinched and jerked away as Aegon’s fingers brushed against her cheek, her breathing becoming heavy as she fought hard not to smack the most powerful man in the realm.

He smirked at her as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling victorious at the sight of her discomfort.

“It wasn’t until I saw you bouncing on my brother’s cock…saw this body bare, saw the kind of whore you are, that it felt as though I was truly seeing you for the first time.” He crooned, his fingers tracing down the length of her jaw and down her neck.

As his fingers trailed downwards, getting close to the dip of her breasts, she finally snapped, her hand shooting out, gripping onto his wrist tightly, desperate to stop him before he could touch her further, in places only her husband had ever touched her.

“Careful, sister. The punishment for putting your hands on your King could cost you your hand.” Aegon warned, delighting in the fury that crossed her features. “Save that fire for my bed.”

“I will slit my throat before you could ever take me to your bed.” She told him with a fire in her voice that only made his eyes light with intrigue and delight, knowing he was getting under her skin exactly the way he wanted.

The door to their chambers opened, Aemond stepping inside wearily, though when he saw Aegon, how close he was sitting to his wife, his wrist encased in her grip, her face drawn tightly with hatred, did cold dread settle over him, washing away any ounce of hesitation he felt to face her and their fight.

“What are you doing here?” He barked at his brother, his face hard with a deadly scowl.

“Just getting to know my future wife.”

Aemond grit his teeth. It took all of his willpower to not beat his brother into oblivion.

“Get out.” He ordered sternly, though Aegon only laughed and leaned back in his seat.

“No.”

Aegon’s sharp response had Aemond flinching in surprise, his surprise overtaking his anger for a moment at the presence of his weak brother’s backbone. It seemed that the crown on his head had finally made him unmovable in the face of his younger’s brother’s rage that used to make him cower.

“I am your King, you don’t command me, brother.”

Aemond, without caring for the consequences or the threat of Aegon’s guards that stood outside the door, stormed forward, grabbing his brother by the shirt and hauling him to his feet, desperate to wrench him away from his wife who watched on with fear.

“If you have any hope of winning this war, it is because of me and my dragon. You are a drunken idiot that has no idea what it truly takes to rule and if you wish to keep breathing and sitting on that throne you will keep your mouth shut and stay far away from my wife.” Aemond spat darkly, jerking his wastrel of a brother in his harsh grip.

“I am already a Kinslayer and I will take whatever judgment the Gods give me for sinning again.” Aemond threatened him, his hatred clear.

Aegon looked back at him with nothing but disdain, hating the fact that he needed Aemond, needed Vhagar, to fight his cause. His harsh glare moved to the woman who remained sitting, watching the brothers with wide, nervous eyes.

“I will see you soon, Sister.” Aegon drawled out the word as if it were an insult, sneering at her one last time before he shoved his brother off him and made his way out of their chambers, leaving the couple in a tense silence.

Aemond breathed heavily and turned toward his wife, his eye softening immediately at the sight of her.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No.” She spoke quietly.

Aemond watched her carefully, noting that she had yet to meet his eye. He sighed and sat next to her. The news from the council the previous night that he had yet to tell her weighed on him heavily.

She had been asleep by the time he returned to their chambers last night and he loathed to wake her, especially for news that would only upset her.

“We are to go to battle tomorrow.” He finally blurted out.

His words finally had her gaze rising to meet him, a startled fearfulness growing in her eyes.

“I am taking Vhagar to Rook’s Rest.”

She remained quiet as she took in his words, the growing fear inside of her quickly incapacitating her. A thousand thoughts ran through her head, most of them all the ways she could lose him.

The longer she stayed quiet, the more tense he became.

“I’ve talked to my mother.” He continued quickly, looking at her hopefully. “She has agreed to let go of the annulment. I’ve asked her to station more guards at the door. A group will be with you any day I’m not here. They will protect you while I’m gone and if I… if anything happens in battle… they will take you home.”

Her eyes watched him calculatingly, as if she were staring at a stranger and not the man she loved. Her mind was a mess of thoughts, none of which she could really make sense of.

Her silence rang out in the room loudly, agonizing Aemond. He looked at her intently, pleadingly.

“Say something, please.” He whispered weakly.

She let out a long sigh, her face impassive, not revealing any emotion. Even the sight of her husband’s sadness wasn’t enough to sway her.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Anything.” He practically begged, her monotonous voice causing an ache to grow within him.

She grit her teeth, looking away from him. “Do you really believe it?”

“What?”

“That your mother is no longer a pawn in that ridiculous plan. That a few more measly guards will protect me from your family. That in the event of your death, I’ll be free to go home and not thrown in the black cells or shackled to Aegon’s bed.”

Aemond flinched at each of her words, looking pained at the reminder of the danger she was in, the danger his own family was placing on her head.

“You are many things, Husband, but I have never known you to be naive.”

“I am not naive-”

“You are if you believe I am safe here, especially in your absence.” She interrupted him sharply. “If you were to die in battle, that would be the end of me. No one would take me home, no one would let me live out the rest of my days as a mourning widow, they would have their boots on my neck the minute it was clear you would not be around to protect me.”

Only a stunted breath escaped him, as words were lost to him.

He looked at her pleadingly, but the guilt that lingered in his gaze did not go unnoticed by her and it only served to fuel her anger, knowing that he knew exactly the situation they were in, exactly the hard rock they were pushed up against by his own family.

“They won’t hurt you.” He began and held back a wince as she scoffed and shook her head. “They won’t. I have to believe it.”

“You have to?” She repeated, almost mockingly.

“Yes, because I cannot take another fucking breath if I don’t.” He replied loudly, his desperation, his slipping control clear as he looked at her, his eye wide and brimming with frustration.

Her expression changed in an instant, the hard front she was portraying shattering the moment she saw how close her husband was to cracking. He had always tried to shield her from the worst parts of him, never wanting her to worry or fuss over him.

It wasn’t often he let her see him falter, but she could see now just how exhausted and broken he was over everything that had happened in the past month.

She suddenly thought of all the times he had held her, picked her back up when her grief knocked her down, and she struggled to think of the times she was there for him, when he allowed her to be strong for him when he couldn’t.

He didn’t let himself show his weakness, hardly even to her, and it was slowly crushing him.

“Do you truly have to go tomorrow?” She asked quietly, the fight gone from her voice.

“I do.”

There was a hesitation to him, as if he knew it wasn’t a good idea, but didn’t have another choice. He was burdened by the duty he was shackled to, beaten down by the sentiment that had been drilled in him since he was a child.

He felt this was all he could do, simply because his family told him so.

She hated they had such a hold on him, that they held such control over him.

“I will come back.” He told her, looking at her intently, as if he could will her to believe it.

She just nodded, her throat growing tight with emotion at the thought of how tomorrow could go so wrong, at the thought of losing the one person she cherished with her entire being. The thought of losing him was already unfathomable, but the thought of losing him now, never being able to heal the rift between them was enough to break her.

He stood, hesitating for a moment, knowing he had to meet with Ser Criston, but wary of leaving his wife, of furthering the divide between them.

He looked to her longingly, as if he wanted to reach out to her, to kiss her, to lavish his affection on her as he used to, but just couldn’t find the courage to.

He didn’t know if she even wanted him to, so he settled for a half-hearted nod and a mumble of goodbye before leaving her side once again, feeling as though the cracks in his heart were growing deeper and deeper with each passing day they were fractured.

She remained in his thoughts for the rest of the day, as she always did any moment he was not at her side.

He didn’t see her until that night at the feast Aegon was adamant on hosting. It was more of an excuse for Aegon to lavish in praises for his bravery for their planned battle on the morrow.

Aemond could only roll his eyes at his brother’s brazen showmanship.

They would run out of coin soon enough with all the celebrations he’d thrown in the short amount of time he sat on the throne.

It seemed parties were the only thing Aegon could think to decree during his reign, despite the war that raged. It was a wonder a battle even got planned with his ambivalence for planning anything that didn’t include wine.

He looked to his wife sat by his side, her expression portraying she’d rather be anywhere else. She boredly looked among the dancing couples and reveling Lords who were drinking copiously, their laughter unable to stir a smile of her own.

Aemond knew better than to ask if she wanted to dance. He knew she would refuse.

He thought back to that night, the beginning of their divide and wanted to scream and cry all at once for the state of things, for this dreaded feeling of being so far from her in a way he had never experienced before.

The thought of her not by his side was too terrifying to even imagine. The thought of her willingly separating from him broke his heart and he didn’t know how to react in any way but anger.

She had barely spoken to him since that night and it wasn’t as though he was any more forthcoming in swallowing his pride and apologizing for his anger that had struck her that fateful day.

Next to him, his mother sat, sending him a weak smile. Despite her assurance that she wouldn’t be forcing an annulment, he couldn’t deny that he had trouble believing her, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how agonizing it was to not believe it. So he did what he could to force himself to.

But he knew he would worry every time he was not at his wife’s side that Aegon would swoop in and use his power to take her from him.

His brother was certainly not above despicable behavior.

His wife was barely able to look at his family. A curt smile was all she was able to give as they arrived that evening. The only real emotion she had shown was towards Helaena, but even then it was only a weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

Aemond was sure it did not go unnoticed how tense the table of royals looked. He could only imagine the gossip that was spreading about them.

He felt as though he could breathe easier once his mother retired for the night, his view of her irrevocably changed since that meeting.

He tapped his fingers against the table erratically, stealing another look at his wife. A servant placed a new cup of wine before her and Aemond waved his hand, refusing another cup for himself, it was only making his already churning stomach worse.

“Are you enjoying the music?” He asked, internally wincing to himself for how awkward he sounded as he tried to engage his wife in conversation.

“Not particularly.” She answered monotonously.

Aemond’s lips parted, but no words were found. It felt like talking to a stranger than to the woman he had loved for years.

“Could you two cheer up?” Aegon chastised as he approached the table to fill up his cup. “You look like you’re attending a funeral.”

Aegon’s attention on her seemed to be the last straw of her already waning patience. With a sigh, she pushed her chair out and stood.

“I’m tired, I’m going to retire for the night.” She explained and left without another word.

Aemond watched her go with a frown. The lack of affection wasn’t something he was used to, not from her at least and it was enough to leave him with a sick feeling in his stomach.

“She’s become quite frigid.” Aegon noted, not bothering to look at his brother and catch the glare he would surely be sending his way. “Have you stopped fucking her? Is that why she’s become such a surly bitch?”

Aemond grit his teeth, his hands twitching with the urge to knock his brother’s teeth out. It seemed the drunken idiot had already forgotten about his earlier threat on his life.

“Well, if she’s not drinking it.” Aegon laughed, grabbing the goblet that sat before his wife’s empty seat, handing it over to some foot soldier from the Lannister army who eagerly swallowed it down in one gulp, the cheering crowd around him growing raucous.

Aemond could barely contain his annoyance, his desire to leave overwhelming. His fingers tapped at the table incessantly, itching to follow his wife, to be as far from Aegon’s arrogance as he could.

“Must you look so sullen, brother?” Aegon chastised him.

Meeting the glassy eyes of his drunken brother, Aemond was forced to use all the willpower he possessed to not throw a punch, removing the smug smile from his face.

“Stop crying over your wife. There are plenty of other women here-”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Aemond snapped at him darkly.

Aegon scoffed, a multitude of insults on the tip of his tongue, but the sound of hacking coughs caught both of their attention. They looked to the Lannister soldier, his eyes wide, his face turning red as he gasped for air that wouldn’t come. He clutched at his neck, his body-shaking coughs bringing him to his knees.

The chattering of the crowd ceased, leaving terrified gasps and screams as men quickly surrounded the dying man, surveying for a threat.

Aemond stood from his seat, taking large steps forward, pushing others out of the way. He took in the scene before him with a growing dread. His gaze moved from the man twitching out a last painful breath, blood and bile spilling from his lips, to the empty cup on the ground.

The cup that was meant for his wife.

Something broke inside him at the realization.

He rushed out of the room, elbowing his way past the crowd. He sprinted through the halls, a shrill ringing in his ears, his mind conjuring the horrible sights that he would find.

What if he wasn’t fast enough this time?

He had already lost his child, he couldn’t lose her.

The thoughts raced through his mind torturously as he ran, his fear growing with each step. His pulse thundered in his ears, his throat tight as he pictured the gruesome scene waiting for him.

He came to an abrupt stop, almost losing his footing, his chest heaving as he narrowed his gaze on the lone guard at their chamber doors. The man startled slightly at the sudden appearance of the disheveled prince and he bowed, greeting him dutifully.

“Has anyone been inside?”

“No, my Prince. Not since your wife.”

He stepped forward purposefully, the adrenaline in his veins and the fear that lingered, causing his hands to tremble.

“Where’s the rest of you?”

“My Prince?” The guard questioned in confusion.

“Where are the other guards? There’s supposed to be more of you here keeping watch.” He seethed impatiently, the man before him blanching in intimidation.

“I-I’m sorry my Prince. It is only me. I have not heard of any others to be stationed with me.”

Aemond stared the man down angrily, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t quite make sense of. He pushed past the guard and rushed into his chambers, his shoulders sagging immediately, expelling a heavy exhale of relief as he spotted her.

His wife lay in their bed, fast asleep and unharmed.

He stepped towards her on weak legs, sitting on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to just look at her, to ease his wounded mind. He knew he wasn’t reaching, that what had happened just minutes ago, that man choking on his own blood, was no accident.

Someone had tried to take her from him, again.

He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead, reveling in the sweet scent of the floral oil she had put in her hair that night.

“I’ll make it right, I promise.” He whispered into the quiet room, needing to speak the promise aloud, even if she wasn’t awake to hear it. He needed to reassure himself that he could protect her, for he felt as though he had been failing.

With one last lingering look at her, he stood and stepped out of the room, giving a quick warning to the guard to be on alert as he stomped down the hall.

He made it to his mother’s chambers, barely acknowledging Ser Criston who stood vigil and stormed inside.

His mother startled at his abrupt entrance and her face twisted, gearing up to scold him, but she soon noticed the fear in his eye, the lingering fury that made her stiffen.

“What’s happened?” She asked tersely, placing a hand over her racing heart, her stomach churning for what she was about to hear.

“A man was murdered tonight.” He spoke monotonously.

“What? Who?” Alicent asked breathlessly.

“He drank from my wife’s cup. He drank the wine that was meant for her and barely a minute later he was dead.”

Alicent’s throat went tight, her blood running cold within her veins. She straightened her posture, attempting to remain composed.

“Rhaenyra and Daemon’s bloodlust knows no bounds.”

“Where were the guards?” Aemond asked abruptly, glossing over his mother’s comment.

“What guards?”

“In front of our chambers.” He clarified, his voice hard as stone. “I asked you to assign more, to ensure my wife would be protected. You said you would, but there was only one.”

Alicent’s heart raced wildly within her chest, the rapid rise and fall of her chest visible as she tried hard to settle her breathing.

“I will have a talk with them. They should have been there.” She answered, the wavering of her voice clear, forcing her to swallow hard in an attempt to get rid of the lump that had grown and threatened to stop her from breathing.

Aemond watched his mother thoughtfully, the sinking feeling he had already been plagued with growing tenfold the longer he watched her, slowly becoming aware of her charade.

His eyes moved to watch the flames dance in the fireplace, breathing out a long sigh as the thoughts in his head swirled like a hurricane. He wanted to refuse it, to not believe his mother would ever have anything to do with something so sinister, but her entire being portrayed guilt. He knew his family's ambitions made for crass and even sometimes despicable actions, he knew the way of war, he just never expected to fall victim to it at the hands of the ones who should have loved him dearly.

“I was excited to be a father.” He started quietly, the tension in his body the only sign of the storm silently raging within him. “I knew I would have done anything for my child. They could’ve asked me for the stars and I would have flown on Vhagar in the night and taken every one of them from the sky.”

The mention of the babe he had lost had Alicent’s chest tightening, her eyes beginning to sting with tears that threatened to give away the turmoil plaguing her.

“I don’t even have a babe to hold and I know I would have done whatever I could to make them happy.” His voice became stunted, anger tinging the heartbreaking words that kept his emotions on a short tether, the reminder of what he lost, what had been ripped so brutally from him and his beloved.

His lone eye raised from the fire and landed on his mother who seemed to squirm under his intense gaze.

“You… you weren’t even trying to keep me from my happiness, you’re trying to rip it right out of my hands.”

Alicent’s breath caught in her throat, her stomach sinking with dread.

“I don’t know what-”

“You know exactly what I’m speaking of.” He interrupted her angrily, his hands clenched into fists as it took all of his restraint to not lunge at her, having to constantly remind himself that the woman in front of him was his mother.

“Think about what you are accusing me of, it’s absolutely ridiculous.” Alicent screeched, her emotions fraying as she desperately tried to pull her son back to her.

“You never wanted me to marry her. You wanted to deny me her, you wanted to tear her from me even when you knew she was the only one that truly made me happy.”

Alicent rolled her eyes, her fear quickly shifting into indignation. That Island girl has sunk her claws so deep in her son, she scarcely recognized him anymore.

“The only one?” She questioned, almost sarcastically. “After everything I’ve done and you still don’t see that it was all for you, for our family.”

Aemond let out a bitter sounding laugh, a sound that would have sent chills down the spine of a lesser man.

“Tell me, Mother, when exactly were you thinking about my happiness? When you tried to force an annulment from the woman I love or when you tried to murder her?”

Alicent’s voice caught in her throat. Each word was like a slap to the face. The guilt churned in her stomach so violently she thought she was going to be sick.

“I know grandsire’s ambitions would have retribution, but I never thought you would bend to them at the expense of your children.”

Alicent sunk back in her chair, the fight swept from her as she realized Aemond was not going to budge an inch. She picked at the skin by her nails anxiously, her teeth biting her bottom lip incessantly as her heart raced.

“We needed to help Aegon’s cause.”

The whispered words were all the confession he needed to hear.

Aemond fumed silently, his jaw clenching so tightly it was a wonder he didn’t crack any of his teeth. His first thought was that he couldn’t believe his own mother would do this to him, to break him into disrepair by taking his wife from him, but as he remembered the forced annulment, he soon realized he didn’t really know his mother at all.

“We know what Rhaenyra would do to us once she sat on the throne. I had to protect you, I did what I could so our family would survive.”

Aemond scoffed bitterly. He too once thought his life would be forfeit once his half-sister rose to power, but the longer he thought of it over the years, the more he spoke of those fears with his wife, the more he realized how unfounded they had been.

“You really think my father-by-law would allow that to happen? Ixtal is King’s Landing’s greatest importer, you think Rhaenyra would risk the entirety of the realm, her position as ruler, just to do away with siblings she could not spare a second thought for?”

“You don’t know that!” Alicent yelled, becoming desperate as she felt as though her son was slipping through her fingers.

Aemond sighed and stood from his chair, heading towards the door, but Alicent’s sobs stopped him as she begged him not to go.

“Aemond, you have to understand.” She cried. “I had to do what I could to keep you safe. You will see that one day, you will see that I only did what I thought was right for our family.”

To hear her speak of the life of his wife, his greatest love, as nothing more than collateral made him feel sick, his disdain growing even further.

“I hope you will see one day that your ambition is what ruined this family.”

With those final words, he left, leaving his mother to sob in solitude. He numbly walked back to his chambers, the look in his mother’s eyes haunting his mind.

It wasn’t until he was behind the closed door of his chamber, standing in the dark room that he allowed himself to release a shuddering breath, his throat tightening as it all caught up to him.

His mother’s betrayal was like a dagger to the stomach, letting the wound bleed until there was nothing left of him.

His gaze fell on his sleeping wife and the dam broke. Tears fell from his eyes as he realized how close he had been to losing her and by the hands of his own family. It was enough to undo him completely.

He knelt at her bedside, unable to stop the tears that fell. His lip trembled, shaking breaths escaping him as he clutched to her hand.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He whispered weakly.

She stirred and blinked her weary eyes open, frowning immediately as she noticed the tears her husband was shedding.

“Aemond? What happened?” She asked tiredly, propping herself up on her elbow as she intertwined their fingers.

“I didn’t protect you.” He whispered, his voice tight with tearful emotion.

“What are you talking about?”

“The second this war started, I should’ve done something. I knew you weren’t safe here, I knew you weren’t safe with them and I didn’t do anything. I’m so sorry, issa prūmia, please forgive me.”

“Aemond…” She was stunned, watching as her husband, the stoic man she knew, broke into pieces before her.

She laid her hand over his that held her other tightly, caressing gentle touches over his hardened knuckles.

“Darling, there’s nothing to forgive.” She assured him, but the look on his face remained tortured.

He sniffled and wiped his tears forcefully, tearing his hand from hers and he got to his feet, making his way across their chambers to her wardrobe.

“I’m getting you out of here.” He spoke, his voice now full of determination.

“What?”

“It’s not safe for you here. You’re going back to Ixtal.”

Her heart jumped in her chest, it was everything she had wanted since this war started, but she couldn’t ignore the lingering dread that settled within her like lead, realizing what it would mean for them. The thought of separating from him was unbearable.

“I’m not leaving without you.” She spoke forcefully, standing from the bed, her eyes hardened as she stared back at her husband.

She knew it was a big ask to leave his family and his home for her, but circumstances were different now. She had already lost so much, she wasn’t going to lose him too, she certainly wasn’t going to let his family take advantage of her absence and shackle him to another woman.

Aemond swallowed thickly and stepped towards her, his hands cradling her face gently as he revered her with nothing but adoration, his decision made in a split second.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but by your side.”

Her face softened, emotions swelling, tightening her throat.

“What happened?” She asked quietly. His change of heart was unexpected and the state of him she had woken to was more than concerning. It wasn’t often he let himself feel his emotions, except anger of course, and it was upsetting to say the least.

Aemond seemed to shudder at her question, his eyes holding a faraway look that seemed tortured.

“Not yet.” He said, his voice barely audible. He would tell her everything once they were safe, once they were far from King’s Landing and his scheming family. “Pack your things, we need to be quick and leave before the light.”

She nodded and rushed to her wardrobe, hauling out as many dresses as she could carry and tossed them on the bed. A sudden realization came to her, igniting her worries once more.

“Wait, Aemond.” She spoke up frantically. “Helaena and the children. We can’t leave without them, they’re not safe here.”

Aemond’s entire being softened. Helaena and her children were the only ones, outside of her, that he cared about above anyone else and her care for them, her willingness to accept them as her own warmed his heart, only confirming to him that he was making the right decision.

His mother’s betrayal stung, it festered in him like a disease that threatened to spread and ruin him, but he pushed it down. He would feel the heartbreak when they were safe in Ixtal.

It didn’t take long for them to pack their meager belongings. They didn’t need to take much, there wasn’t much of anything with sentimental value he would miss. He just needed his wife at his side.

They traveled through the hidden halls, quickly coming to the entrance of Helaena’s room. Aemond pushed the entrance open slowly, wincing at the noise, hoping he wasn’t about to scare his sweet sister.

He was soon shocked, flinching back as he met the awaiting eyes of his sister, her children cradled to her sides, bags at their feet.

“Is it time?”

“What- Helaena…”

“We are leaving, are we not?”

“Well… yes, but-”

“Let’s go. We shouldn’t waste any more time.” She smiled warmly, placing her hand on her brother’s cheek briefly before moving towards her friend, wrapping her up in a tight hug, her gratitude overflowing from her. “I knew you would be our saving grace.”

The whispered words of the Princess left her shocked. She had to shake herself of her surprise and hauled Jaehaerys into her arms. With Helaena carrying Jaehaera, their bags secured with Aemond leading them, they were on their way. His hand fluttered towards the sword at his hip every so often, senses sharp and at the ready for anything and anyone that dared to stop them.

It didn’t take long to get to the Dragon Pit.

“I’ll meet you outside with Vhagar.” Aemond assured her and with one last squeeze of her hand, he was gone.

Her heart was in her throat, her palms sweating with nerves as she helped strap the children’s bags to Dreamfyre’s saddle. Once Helaena was seated on her dragon, she helped Jaehaera up and strapped her in.

“It’s alright, my Darlings.” Helaena cooed to her children who were quiet and sullen with fright. “We’re going to a beautiful place where we’ll be safe.”

“Is father coming too?” Jaehaera asked quietly and Helaena shook her head, almost seemingly delighted to share the news of the absence of their father. But the child just nodded and whispered ‘good’.

She repressed a shudder. She didn’t want to think of the neglect Aegon had forced on his children. She swept Jaehaerys up into her arms once again, her heart aching as he nuzzled into her, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

“You like to swim, don’t you, Jae?”

He nodded against her and she smiled, brushing her fingers through his hair soothingly.

“I know where to find the most beautiful beaches. You’ll get to swim in the bluest water you’ve ever seen where the fish swim between your toes and jump out of the water to greet you.”

“Will you show me?”

She smiled and nodded. “I’ll take you there myself.”

With the assurance, he loosened his grip on her, more at ease. A distant roar caught their attention, the familiar sound of Vhagar. With one last look to Helaena, silently assuring her that she would keep her son safe, she slipped out of the Dragon Pit, hurrying her way up the hill where Vhagar rested.

Her hope spiked, her fear receding slightly as she spotted Aemond atop his dragon. Their escape was imminent. No one would stop them now, not when they had Vhagar to face.

She helped Jaehaerys climb up into the waiting arms of his uncle who strapped him in carefully. She climbed, her movements familiar use, not something she’d ever thought she would say in relation to dragon riding, but Aemond had been insistent over the years of his two favorite girls bonding.

She used to roll her eyes at him, but now she couldn’t have been more thankful.

As she settled herself, her heart sped, uncertainty suddenly overtaking her adrenaline, the gravity of their actions soon crashing into her overwhelmingly. She placed her hand over Aemond's, stopping him before he could grasp the reins.

“Aemond,” She spoke, her voice tight as her mind raced. “You have to be sure, entirely sure, that this is what you want.”

He sighed, as if disappointed by her hesitation, believing he would ever second guess the decision to run away with her, to keep her safe.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” He assured her, tilting her chin with his finger so she was looking at him head on. “I promised you, didn’t I? We’re going to Ixtal where we’ll grow old and raise our children.”

His words, which were once said in the comfort of their sheets, their love nothing more than a secret from the rest of the realm, soothed every ounce of insecurity that had crept through her veins.

She breathed out in relief and leaned forward, kissing him swiftly.

Dreamfyre’s roar broke them apart and they watched as Helaena took flight with her daughter.

“Are you ready, Jae?”

The child nodded eagerly to his uncle and leaned back into his aunt’s arms, holding tightly to her as the mighty dragon below them rumbled and stretched her wings, taking to the skies with ease.

The moonlight was their only guide in the dead of night. It wasn’t until they settled high in the sky, covered by the clouds, easy on their course, did she finally let herself relax. She leaned back into the strong chest behind her, her husband’s hand leaving the reins to wrap around her, securing herself to his front, his forehead rested against hers, a look of nothing but pure contentment on his face, a far cry from the scowl that had been securely etched onto his features for months.

She knew his decision to leave could not have been easy and she was terrified to hear what had happened, what the final straw was to get him to agree to leave the place he called home, to leave his mother behind.

She leaned into him, as if needing his comfort from the mere thought of what transpired to make him turn his back on the woman that raised him.

Aemond held her tightly, breathing in the scent of her, his eye falling closed in fulfillment at the feel of her skin under his fingertips. Even the brush of her hair against his face in the wind was the greatest thing he could have ever felt.

She was all he needed.

A weight was lifted from his chest, allowing him to breathe easier the farther they flew from King’s Landing. His family’s schemes, his mother’s betrayal, Aegon’s threats, they all seemed to melt away as the distance grew between them.

The sun was just beginning to rise as they spotted the shores of Ixtal.

Warmth bloomed within her at the sight of her home, knowing she was only minutes from reuniting with her family.

She felt jittery, anxious excitement taking over every inch of her as they landed on the shores. A slew of guards were already waiting for them on the shores, the dragons having been spotted in the distance and causing mayhem in fear of a potential attack.

Among the pointed spears and swords, she spotted her father’s face. She breathed shakily, eagerly undoing the straps around her waist, charging down from Vhagar’s back despite Aemond’s protests.

She didn’t care for safety, she didn’t care for decorum. She charged towards the group of guards who soon lowered their weapons at their leader’s cries for a cease. Her father pushed the guards out of his way, coming to the front of the blockade, the sight of her causing tears to brim in his eyes.

Barely a second later, she was in his arms, the force of her embrace almost knocking him off his feet.

“You’re here.” He breathed out, holding tightly to his beloved daughter with a force that could only be portrayed by that of a father with a heavy heart. “How are you here? I haven’t heard from you in weeks, we thought-”

His words stopped as he noticed Aemond’s presence over her shoulder. His brows furrowed at the sight of the young child in his arms, his confusion only furthered as Princess Helaena stepped forward, another child in her arms.

“You brought an entourage?”

Her face turned serious, worrying him immediately.

“Father, we… we’re seeking refuge from King’s Landing. It’s no longer safe for us there.”

He looked at his daughter incredulously, sensing there would be a long story to come. He nodded stiffly, having trouble tearing his eyes away from his daughter, his little girl he had been fraught with worry over the past moons.

A yell of her name sounded, catching their attention. Her face smoothed out, her worry disappearing as a bright smile grew.

“Mother!” She called out, racing past her father and the litany of guards still standing at attention to seek out her mother who had raced out of the palace at the sight of the dragons, her arms open and ready for her daughter.

Aemond watched, an ease settling over him as he saw her smile again, that bright, wondrous sight that could only assure him he had done the right thing.

The Lord of Ixtal stepped forward, sending a polite smile to Helaena and eyeing the children with a soft gaze.

“Come, you must be exhausted from your journey.” He motioned them forward, allowing Helaena to lead, hand in hand with her twins, the two men settling in a matching pace side by side. “I knew you were the right man for the job.”

Aemond looked at the man beside him questioningly.

“I knew you would keep my daughter safe. I never had any doubt.”

The young prince seemed to deflate under the praise. The guilt that had been festering within him unfurled, overtaking him so powerfully, he stopped walking.

“I didn’t- there was… it was too close-”

“Aemond,” His father-by-law placed his hand on his shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. “You’re here. You brought her home, safe and sound.”

“But I couldn't-”

“You are one man. You cannot fight the entire world of enemies alone, especially not when they are your own family.”

Aemond’s eye widened, looking perplexed by his words. The Lord just smiled sadly and shook his head.

“I had my suspicions from the start. I knew they didn’t want you to marry her, I knew their ambitions would become too great.”

Aemond just nodded stiffly, the words getting caught in his throat, not yet able to voice just what his family, his own mother, had done.

“You’re a good man, Aemond. I hope you’ll be happy here.”

“I will be.” He spoke, his voice laced with conviction, as if there were no doubts in his mind about his life now that he was standing on the sandy beaches of Ixtal, his future no longer out of his own control.

They stepped into the palace, his eyes finding her immediately. Her mother left her daughter’s side, coming towards him, a tearful smile gracing her features.

Before he could say a word, she wrapped him in a tight hug.

“Thank you.” She whispered to him, the words and the affectionate gesture plucking at his weakest points. The affection of a mother, a caring and kind soul, reminding him of what he had just lost, what he had purposefully stepped away from.

But it had never been like this. Alicent had never held him this tight, he had never felt love from his mother in a single touch, not like he was now from a woman he had met only a handful of times before.

“You three look like you have hiked through the seven hells and back. Why don’t you rest for a while longer, we can talk later.” Her mother suggested.

Helaena was guided to her new chambers for her and the children, her smile wide, no trace of derision from her escape. She seemed all too happy to be back to the place she had fallen in love with in that first visit years ago.

Aemond let his wife lead him to her old childhood chambers.

He stepped in, taking in a deep breath, letting the events of the night roll off his back. He looked at the dried flowers and childhood drawings that lined the walls, some hers, some her siblings that had been gifted to her years ago that she couldn’t bear to part with.

Her sentimental heart never failed to warm his own.

As he set their bags down, his gaze fell to the view of the horizon from the balcony, picturing the chaos that would be ensuing across the sea in King’s Landing as their absence was discovered.

He thought of his mother and the state she would be in once she realized both he and Helaena were gone, her grandchildren safe from their clutches.

He let out a shaking breath and barely a second later, arms were winding around his waist. He hummed a grateful sounding noise, placing a hand over her clasped ones at his front.

“What are you thinking about?”

“They’ll send search parties.” He mused, his mind beginning to conjure the many ways his brother and grandsire could ruin the peace they tried to find for themselves.

“My father will handle it.” She assured him. “Besides, no one would dare try to force Vhagar away from here.”

He smiled, his eyes falling to his mighty dragon that was basking in the sun, her wings fluttering in the waves that crashed onto the shore, her rumbles of contentment echoing up to their room. He looked over his shoulder at his wife, the warm feeling in chest growing at the sight of her, the ease she now carried around her.

“Thank you.”

Her eyes softened, a small smile growing. “I think I should be saying that to you.”

He had a million things he wanted to say but no idea how to say them. So he settled for kissing her softly, hoping it conveyed every ounce of love and adoration he held for her, the thanks he wanted to bestow upon her for saving his life, for saving his sister and her children.

He pulled away regretfully, letting his forehead rest against hers as he thought over how close he had come to losing her just hours ago, causing tears to brim in his eye.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out, emotion welling his throat yet again.

Her brows furrowed, not used to seeing him break as he was now, as he did just hours ago.

“I haven’t been a good husband.”

“Aemond-”

“I haven’t.” He spoke again, interrupting her attempt to soothe him. “I didn’t listen, I thought I could fight against everything alone. I pushed you away and I hurt you.”

She watched him carefully, noting the guilt that seemed to seep out of every inch of him.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for it all, I swear.” He whispered frantically, as if he was desperate for her to believe him, as if she had any doubt.

“What happened?” She questioned again, looking at him worriedly, but he shook his head, pushing the thought of this mother, of that man choking on his own blood, from his mind.

“Not yet.” He whispered again, not yet ready to reveal to her the threat on her life, not wanting to break the peace they’d finally found after months of such heart-breaking tension.

She was in his arms, they were safe, his sister and her children were safe. That was all that mattered.

He kissed her again, this time firmer, more sure of himself. After tumultuous weeks of grieving and then spite between them, they hadn’t been close like this in ages. It had been too long since he had made love to his sweet wife.

She melted into him, the feel of his hands on her, his lips against hers so desperately, was enough to heal the wounds in her heart the war had caused.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered as he planted kisses down the slope of her neck. “You are so wonderful, so kind. You have the most perfect, golden heart.”

He lavished praise as his hands untied the laces of her gown, his lips finding their place over her racing heart, the heart that had given him so much love, enough to heal a boy doomed from the start.

They moved slowly, treasuring each gentle caress and loving kiss as they stripped themselves bare. The waking nightmares they had been faced with in King’s Landing melted into nothing but old memories in the wake of their embrace.

For so long, after the attack and losing their child, she had felt so disconnected to her own body. Now, as Aemond kissed every inch of her, as his hands roamed the familiar curves of her body, she felt she was finally herself again.

She had spent too long watching her husband succumb to who his family wanted him to be. It made her determined to remind him why she loved him, how much she cherished him.

Her hand slithered down the strong planes of his chest, his breath hitching as it traveled lower and lower until she gently grasped his stiff length in her hand that twitched with desire under her touch.

Breaths left him in desperate pants as she stroked him, her touch familiar yet so missed. He repressed a shiver as she quickened her pace, her eyes watching him intently, the sight of his pleasure a welcome reprieve to how tightly wound she’d seen him for months.

He moaned and quickly grabbed her hand, stopping her motions. He would not spill too early, before he even had the chance to bring her pleasure.

She squealed in surprise, her laugh ringing out in the room as he picked her up and eagerly carried her to the bed. Her delighted giggles continued as she fell back on the soft mattress below her, biting her lip and practically writhing at the heated look from the man above her.

She reached up, taking his eye patch off and tossing it to the side, needing to see all of him.

Aemond wasted no time, he couldn’t go another second without her. He spread her legs and kneeled before her, his mouth devouring her with a fervor of a man starved, moaning at the delectable taste of her.

She cried out, her hand falling to his head, tangling her fingers in his hair, pulling with each deliberately devastating stroke of his tongue.

Her body was powerless against him, a litany of praise falling past her lips without her knowledge, mindlessly calling out to him, divulging every ounce of her love for him, both cursing and acclaiming his tongue and his ability to render her completely mindless.

He growled against her, the sound of his name spoken so breathlessly, so desperately, quickly becoming his undoing. He quickened his pace, his need to push her over the edge growing as his own desires did.

She almost screamed, her back arching as he added his fingers, curling them in just the way he knew would drive her crazy.

Her hands twisted into the sheets below her, her legs beginning to quiver from their place over his shoulders as he worked her to the cusp of ecstasy.

“Aemond!” She cried out as his wicked tongue and fingers brought her to a blinding peak.

She panted heavily, her limbs still trembling from the force of her release, barely able to comprehend the heated kiss Aemond pressed to her lips, the taste of her on his tongue making her moan.

The soft sound turned into another high pitched cry as he entered her slowly, a shuddering breath falling past his own lips as they joined for the first time in months. He stilled, needing a moment before he lost his composure completely.

He gazed at her below him, his lone eye shining, the love he felt for her in that moment suddenly overwhelming. He ducked his head into the crook of her neck, squeezing his eye shut as her hand caressed through his hair, her soft lips brushing against his temple.

“It’s alright.” She whispered. “I’m here. I won’t ever be parted from your side.”

Her words, as if she knew exactly what had happened just hours ago, the attempt on her life on the orders of his own family, were the salve to the torment running through his head since he learned of the threat against her.

He raised his head, kissing her firmly, his tongue tangling with hers, desperate for her touch, her taste, every inch of her.

“No one will ever take you from me.” He spoke softly, though the air of determination surrounding his words did not go unnoticed, whether to reassure her or himself he wasn’t sure.

His hips began to move rhythmically, thrusting in and out of her gently, as if it were their first time again.

She sighed, her eyes fluttering closed. Her hands gripped onto his back, feeling his muscle ripple under his skin as he moved.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him tightly as he made love to her as if he were afraid to break her, afraid to cause her any more harm than what she had endured since the war started.

“Aemond,” She breathed out, leaning upwards, her nose brushing against his as she brushed her lips against his. “I’m ok. You can go faster, I can take it.”

His face twisted, memories of the night of the attack, of her screams and cries of agony, of how close she had been last night to succumbing to the war. The thoughts were torturous.

“I can’t-” He choked out, his jaw clenching, his brows furrowed as if he were in pain himself. “I can’t hurt you.”

“You won’t. I know you would never.” She assured him, her hands cradling his face as she looked at him intently, pure trust and love echoing through her eyes.

He exhaled loudly, allowing his pace to quicken slightly, the moan she let out like music to his ears, soothing every ounce of his worry.

“I trust you.” She whispered and his resolve shattered completely in an instant.

He whimpered and began to thrust into her harder, his movements becoming more assured, his hunger for her reaching its peak, his hips now crashing against hers purposefully, moans falling freely from his lips as she cried out at every hard thrust, his cock hitting that place inside her that made her writhe against him.

Her noises were beautiful, they sent shivers down his spine, made his head spin in that delightful way only she could give him. He never liked to feel as though he wasn’t in control, but with her he welcomed the feeling.

She was the only one he felt safe around to let himself feel it.

He gripped onto her thigh, hiking it higher on his hip, allowing him to reach deeper inside her, her name like a desperate prayer on his lips as he felt himself nearing his end. It had been too long and he was no match for her perfect body.

He brought his hand down, his thumb brushing against her clit, desperate to bring her with him. It didn’t take long until she trembled against him, her nails digging into his back, her head thrown back against the sheets as she cried out loudly.

The feeling of her tightening around him and the sight of her lost in pleasure beneath him undid him effortlessly. He gasped, his movements becoming more frantic in his end, frantic groans following with each of his movements. It hit him like a wave, crashing over him all at once. He cried out, a sound more desperate than she had ever heard from him, his body stiffening before falling lax as he came hard.

His eye fell shut as the haze of pleasure overtook him. He breathed harshly, letting the aftershocks of bliss roll through his shaking limbs. Her hands brushing his hair out of his face brought him back into the present.

His eye fluttered open, meeting the eyes of the woman below him, her easy, pleasure filled smile bringing one of his own.

He leaned down, kissing her softly. Silently vowing to himself that he would never let anything threaten her life again, not as long as he lived, that he would never bring her pain ever again.

He held her tightly, breathing out a long, drawn out breath, expelling every bit of the bitter anger and betrayal that clung to him.

As he lay beside her, his softening length still buried inside her, the blissful touch of her hand running through his hair, he listened to the waves outside the open balcony doors, the calls of seabirds reminding him of where he was, where he would spend the rest of his days with her by his side.

It brought him more peace than he ever could have imagined.

With Aemond’s absence, and subsequently Vhagar’s absence from the frontlines, the Greens quickly succumbed to the Blacks.

She held tightly to Aemond’s hand as her father read outloud the letter sent from Rhaenyra who now sat the throne. He gave no reaction as he heard of Otto’s execution, of Aegon’s demise in the black cells. He barely twitched as he heard his mother was to be sequestered in the Red Keep, forced to live out the rest of her life in solitude.

The only emotion he showed was the breath he let out when he heard Daeron was to remain in Oldtown, with strict orders never to return to King’s Landing. He was thankful his younger brother never played a role in the war, that his life was spared from a gruesome fate.

Helaena looked forlorn, her eyes cast down to her hands that fidgeted in her lap. She left for a reason, she had escaped with her children, an act she would never regret, but it didn’t lessen the unease in her heart.

She always knew this was how it would end.

The knowledge that Aegon would never touch her again was a shining ray of light in the storm of dark clouds that was the news of the demise of her family.

They were dismissed quickly, her mother throwing her a wary look as Aemond practically sprinted from the room as if it were deprived of air he desperately needed.

She walked at a slow pace, knowing he’d need a few minutes to himself to take in the news. Making her way through the gardens, she knew exactly where he’d be, where he often found himself in moments of deep thoughts and contemplation.

She knew he didn’t regret leaving, but some days the decision was harder to swallow than others.

Within a few minutes, she found him sitting on the bench in front of the billowing willow tree, the place they had first spoken, the place he had complimented her drawings, the place where she had made him laugh as if they were old friends rather than new acquaintances.

He didn’t look up as she approached.

The only indication he gave to her presence was the long breath he let out as she took a seat next to him.

“I’m fine.” He spoke impatiently, as if to assure her so he could be left to his torturous solitude.

“You know I don’t believe that.” She admonished softly, making no move to leave.

His foot tapped erratically against the stone below him, his teeth biting his bottom lip, his shoulders hunched, the very picture of discontent. Frowning, she placed her hand on his arm, sliding down the length of his tense muscles until she found his hand, intertwining their fingers.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re feeling.”

“I can’t quite make sense of it myself.” He admitted quietly.

“I know you’re not happy Rhaenyra is on the throne-”

“I don’t care about that.” He spoke abruptly, his tone becoming sharp. “Our lives would have been much easier if that damned chair didn’t exist.”

She knew since coming to Ixtal, after the month of peace they’d had without his family breathing down his neck, forcing his every move, he could breathe easier. But it was still his family, his own brother and grandsire who had perished in the war.

“Aemond,” She began softly. “Talk to me, please.”

“I know what my brother was. I won’t pretend to mourn him.”

“You do not have to.”

His eyes held a vacant look, as he retreated into the mess of thoughts in his head. He knew what his grandsire had done, the game he had played long before he had even been born. He knew the retribution Otto faced was well deserved.

It didn’t cause him much grief.

It was the thought of his mother that left his insides twisting in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

“It doesn’t seem like enough.” He whispered, his words almost lost to the wind.

“What doesn’t?”

“She tried to take you from me yet she lives.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She had never had a close bond with Aemond’s mother but after she had been told what had happened that fateful night they left, what caused her husband’s tears, her view of Alicent had been forever changed.

Aemond held tightly to her hand, as if saying the words aloud were too much to handle.

He let out a shaking breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, he could feel a headache coming on, one that was all too familiar when it came to the derision his family caused him.

“It does not seem a fitting punishment yet I’m… relieved. I don’t think I truly want her dead.”

Aemond didn’t know what to make of what he felt for his mother. He was angered she still drew breath yet relieved she hadn’t been killed brutally by Rhaenyra, yet he still couldn’t stomach the thought of her, not after what she’d done.

“Of course you don’t. No matter what she’s done, she’s still your mother.”

He thinks to himself that he doesn’t deserve her, this wonderful woman in front of him, the only one to truly see him.

When he lies with his wife, when he sees her beautiful smile, when he feels her touch on his skin, he thinks he’d be content if his mother never saw the light of day again, yet deep down, the guilt festers.

He was the reason their side lost. His departure was the sole reason Aegon and Otto are dead, the reason his mother is confined for the rest of her days.

He can’t find himself regretting his actions, knowing the outcomes, yet he can’t help but feel as though he had failed his family.

The sense of duty they had instilled in him was screaming, raging at him for what he had done. But he wasn’t that man they raised him to be.

He was the man who fell in love with his best friend. He was the man who finally felt love as a child from a girl who tried endlessly to get him to see the beauty in himself and the world around him.

The part of him that felt guilty for his mother was soon crushed out by the love he held for his wife. When he looked at her, he realized no one had ever truly cared for him but her. No one had ever had his best interest at heart except her.

He squeezed her hand in his, finally letting his gaze reach hers, the concern in her eyes melting a part of him that desperately needed to be melted.

“I don’t regret a single moment with you.” He tells her, the look in his eye now soft, no longer shrouded in agony and confusion.

She smiles softly, still worried for him, worried for what the news would cause him.

“Aemond-”

“I just want to think about our future.” He interrupted, knowing exactly what fears lay on her tongue, fearing much of the same for himself.

But he would cross that bridge when he came to it. He would feel the moments of guilt, of relief, of whatever other emotion his family would cause him, as they came.

He didn’t fear what he would feel because he knew the woman he loved would be there to soothe him in every one of those dark moments. His family, though they may try, couldn’t hurt him anymore.

“I want to raise our children here, where they won’t know any pressures of the court or successions, of war or conflict.”

“Are you sure you don’t-”

“Protecting you was and will always be my number one priority.” He assured her before she could even voice her question about his regret.

Her smile was much more genuine, his words soothing the anxiety she felt at his reaction. He felt himself smile at the sight before him, eased merely by her presence.

He leaned in, kissing her softly, letting his forehead rest against hers.

“You were always my purpose.”

His whispered words were assurances they both clung to in the face of uncertainty.

Tension would always exist as long as their enemy sat on the throne, but they were content, miles away, across the sea where their love flourished, where they would start their family.

No one would take that away from them.

A year had passed peacefully. No further word from King’s Landing came. Helaena and her children thrived in the beauty that was Ixtal. The eccentric Princess made many friends with the ladies in court, finally feeling as though she could be herself without judgment, without fearing retribution or gossip. She no longer felt the pressure to be the perfect image of a Targaryen Princess.

Aemond had quickly found his place alongside her younger brother in leading the city watch. He melded into his new life with an ease she hadn’t expected.

Her own father accepted Aemond into their council, his voice soon becoming a valuable and respected asset to the island and its governance with most of the realm.

Their new life was everything they wanted.

Until the day their past caught up to them.

“My Lady?” She looked up to notice her guard approaching, a nervous expression painting his features. “A dragon has been spotted approaching our shores. Shall I request your husband?”

Her face was drawn tightly and she shook her head brusquely. She knew exactly who would be accosting them.

“No, I will handle it.”

She walked determinedly to the throne room, her guard following behind her worriedly.

“Where is my father?”

“In a council meeting.”

“And my husband is with him?”

“Yes, my Lady.”

“Good.” She breathed out. She didn’t need either of them catching wind of their guest’s arrival and causing a stir. “You are dismissed.” She spoke to her guard whose eyes widened at the command, his mouth opening to refuse, but she gave him a pointed look.

“I can handle this, Ser Jerrod.”

The guard sighed defeatedly and gave her a look of resignation.

“I am telling your husband of your orders when he comes to punish me.”

Aemond had developed quite the reputation of being protective of his wife, the guards were terrified to obey her orders when they knew they would face the ire of her dragon husband.

“I will take the blame, I promise you.” She assured him with a smirk.

As her guard left, leaving her alone in the throne room, she let out a long breath, her heart racing as she prepared herself for what she would soon face.

Only minutes later, the great doors opened and Queen Rhaenyra entered, her face hardened, bitter anger in her eyes.

Her steps faltered, her powerful pace slowing as she met the eyes of the person she had least expected.

Rhaenyra spoke her name slowly, her entire demeanor changed, abruptly thrown off from her course of murderous rage that darkened her thoughts, that prompted her abrupt arrival.

She breathed deeply, straightening her posture as she steeled her expression, putting on the mask of anger back into place.

“I’m sure you know why I am here.”

“I do.” She answered Rhaenyra cooly, her posture relaxed, an exact contrast from the woman before her who looked as though she was unraveling.

The dark circles under her eyes did not go unnoticed.

“I need to see Aemond.”

“That’s not going to happen, Rhaenyra, you know that.”

“He needs to pay for what he did.” The woman spoke through gritted teeth, angry tears filling her eyes.

She stared at the woman, the Queen, before her for a few long seconds, taking in her state of weariness with a heavy sigh, which only seemed to upset Rhaenyra further, her face turning red, her jaw clenching as she took a mighty step towards her.

“He killed my son!”

“And you killed mine!” She yelled back, matching her with the ferocity only a devastated mother could have.

The reminder of what Rhaenyra agreed to, what she allowed Daemon to do, made her face crumble, her eyes falling to the floor, refusing to meet the gaze of the woman in front of her, the woman she had made lose everything.

She never wished the loss of a child on any woman, yet here she was, standing face to face with the woman with whom she had directly caused the greatest sorrow.

“Gods, Rhaenyra, do you think yourself innocent, do you think you are absolved of punishment from your place in this war?”

“I know I am not.” She choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I did not start this. Your husband must pay for what he has done.”

“My husband does not hold this blame alone. This war would’ve happened no matter who laid the first blow, you know that.”

“They usurped my crown!”

“Yet you sit on the throne and the only reason you do is because Aemond chose to step down from the fight.”

Rhaenyra’s jaw tightened, the fury in her eyes taking over her grief.

“You did not come here to wager about succession.”

“No, I came to kill my brother.” Rhaenyra stated simply, her glare deepening when the woman in front of her scoffed.

“Aemond is under Ixtal’s protection. He has no governance under the crown.”

“Your father is an honorable man, he will do what is right-”

Her sarcastic laugh stopped Rhaenyra mid sentence, the older woman scowling at the young woman before her with blooming hatred.

“My father does not know all the details about what happened that night in King’s Landing, why I was attacked, how I lost my baby. If he knew it was you and Daemon that orchestrated it, that you were the reason he lost his grandchild, no force in this realm could save you.” She threatened, delighting in the way Rhaenyra shrunk under her pointed words.

“Your position is tentative, Rhaenyra. Most of the realm despises you, especially after this senseless war. The smallfolk in King’s Landing are starving, the Lords of great houses are fed up with your trade arrangements, raising taxes, abandoning treaties.” She started, her voice low with animosity that steadily grew with each passing second she stood before her.

Rhaenyra looked surprised by what she knew, the details that hounded her night after night, the reason she was berated practically daily in court by smallfolk and Lords alike.

“Most leaders in this realm hate you, you have little support anymore. If my father were to break tradition and take a stand against your position, how many houses do you think would remain loyal to you?”

Rhaenyra remained silent, her face twisted with disdain, mostly because she knew she had no argument.

“If you threaten my husband, if you plan some heinous attack on his life, if you darken Ixtal with your presence again, I will tell my father the role you played in my attack and nothing will stop him from marching to the gates of King’s Landing, with the support of the entire realm behind him.” She warned darkly. “Don’t forget, we’re the reason you still have food on your plates. You shouldn’t bite the hand that feeds you.”

“Who do you think you are to threaten me? I am your Queen.” Rhaenyra raged, losing what little control she had left.

“You think you can threaten me?” She countered. “That’s what you came here for, wasn’t it? To exert what little power you have left to boost your ego, to enact revenge for a bitter fight you caused.”

Rhaenyra flinched, her face twisted with derision at her words.

“Don’t pretend you have no role in this, Rhaenyra, you are smarter than that.” She added before the queen could speak another senseless word. “You pretended some measly words against your sons were more dire than a child who lost an eye. You added fire to an already growing inferno and you think they would, what? Live in peace?”

Rhaenyra gazed past her, refusing to look her in the eye.

“I am truly sorry about what happened to Lucerys.”

“Don’t say his name.” Rhaenyra seethed.

“A son for a son, that was what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

Rhaenyra flinched, swallowing harshly against the lump in her throat, the guilt she still felt for her role in such a violent act drowning her, especially now as she faced the woman she hurt directly.

“You got what you wanted, so consider us even.” She choked out through her own growing emotions, the memory of that night still haunting her. “Now leave.”

She watched, feeling victorious as Rhaenyra bowed her head, unable to look at her, as she turned on her heel and began to walk to the door in defeat.

“You may sit on that throne but it is my house that holds the power.” She called out before she could leave the room. “Remember that next time you get the urge to visit again.”

The door closed behind the Queen and she let out a long breath, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, having spoken to the reason for her attack for the first time, having expelled her anger towards the woman who had caused her greatest loss.

She let her shoulders relax, suddenly realizing how tense her entire body had become. She turned on her heel and stopped abruptly as she noticed Aemond in the doorway across the room.

His face was passive, she couldn’t read a single emotion on his face. Even after all their time together, she still had trouble reading him in moments when he was guarded.

“How long have you been here?”

“Long enough.” He answered vaguely. A moment passed before he let a small smile grow and she breathed out, laughing slightly as she approached him. “I quite like seeing that side of you.”

“You are not mad?”

“Mad?” He asked in disbelief and laughed. “No, I think you handled that with much more grace than I ever could.”

He held his hand out to her as she came before him, taking her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“In fact, seeing you defend me as valiantly as you did was quite… stirring.”

She rolled her eyes and pushed at his chest.

“Aemond.” She admonished. “This is serious.”

“It is and you handled yourself as if you’ve been ruling for years.”

She sighed in annoyance, the praise not having the effect she expected. She felt as though he was avoiding the seriousness of what happened, or how wrong things could have turned out.

“Your sister arrived to kill you and all you can do is compliment me?”

Aemond’s smile faltered, his demeanor changing in an instant, the cool air around him gone.

“I have to live with what I did… to Lucerys.” He admitted quietly. “She must live with what she did. It’s like you said, we are even.”

She intertwined their fingers, her hand squeezing his in a silent show of comfort. She knew he still felt immense guilt about what had happened that night, for what she endured as a result of it.

He still had nights when he couldn’t face it.

“Do you think she will retaliate?” She asked quietly and Aemond shook his head, clearing his throat and the air of intensity surrounding him as his easy smile returned.

“Not unless she wants another verbal lashing from you.”

She scoffed and looked at her husband plainly. He pulled her towards him, a serious look in his eye even as his smirk remained.

“If she ever dares to return, she will have to face Vhagar.” He told her. “I would never let her hurt you or anyone on this Island.”

She breathed out in relief. She didn’t want it to ever come to that, but to hear it so plainly, the lengths Aemond would go to protect her, to protect her family and their home, was a strange comfort.

He kissed her forehead and looked at her with a gaze full of nothing but love, the words she had said to Rhaenyra in his defense running around his head. He would not soon forget it, the way she stood up for him.

Her name was called from across the hall, breaking the moment between them.

They turned to see her younger sister approaching, their smiles widening as they saw the bundle she carried in her arms.

“Sorry to interrupt, but she was getting fussy. I think she’s missing you two.”

Aemond met her halfway, his arms already outstretched to take his daughter from his good sister. He whispered his thanks, his gaze locked onto the babe in his arms, his precious girl.

At only 3 moons old, she was the greatest light in his life, aside from her mother of course. She had him wrapped around her little finger the second she took her first breath.

“Thank you for looking after her.” She told her sister and stood by Aemond’s side, latching onto his arm as they both gazed down at their child.

“Is everything ok? I heard there was a dragon spotted.” Her sister inquired.

She looked over at Aemond, but he seemed too engrossed in their daughter to have even heard the question.

“Everything’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about, she won’t be coming back.” She assured her sister who nodded and quickly made her exit, sensing the couple wanted to be alone with their little family.

Together, they walked out of the palace and through the gardens, coming to the familiar bench by the willow tree.

Aemond sat, sparsely taking his eyes off his daughter. Next to him, his wife laughed, continually amused at how effortlessly their daughter mesmerized him.

She leaned her head on his shoulder and reached out, gently tracing her finger over her daughter’s chubby cheeks that grinned at her touch, making a noise of contentment as she wriggled in her father’s arms.

Aemond placed a kiss to her forehead and she raised her head, meeting his gaze.

Their smiles grew at the same time, the same thought running through their minds. They had made it.

Whispered promises made in the beginning of their love had finally come true.

They had their family and nothing could take it from them.

Thank you all for reading and coming with me and this wild ride! All of your comments have meant the absolute world to me and I'm just so happy I got to share this with you all xx

There will be an epilogue so this will not be the end of Aemond and his Sun xx

Tag List:

@jacaeryslover @allsouls-emma @lianna75 @emoxio @noneedtosearch @watashiwasun @guacam011y @darlingisntit @trickycarrot89-blog @stcrrjoon @knyam @bettysexile @marysucks-blog @lovelyteenagebeard @darktrashsouldbear @violetiss3lfish @hueanhdang @mamawiggers1980 @azaleapotterblack @littlestarfighter03 @discofairysworld @ner-dee @kananenmus @summer-and-sunflowers @booksandbud4me @blackravena @pinkautismjournal @aleemendoza2425-blog @callsigncrushx @taylordaughter @baby-i-can-see-your-reylo @tanyaherondale @uhnanix @r3v3rt @mizuki80 @iloved1lfs0 @odeioemail @brxkenartt @lechat-rouge @mrs-starkgaryen @cassianswh0reeee

So sorry if I forgot to tag you!

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen smut #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon

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jinwoosbabyboo · 3 months ago

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“Will You Marry Me?"

How I imagine LADS Men would propose. This is part 2 of 2. I tried to do the sweet elegant writing, but that ain't me so here you go....

Xavier

Our lover boy Xavier is a literal prince. I feel as though he'd be very traditional with his proposal. The only unfortunate part is he can't ask for your fathers/family blessing because you know .... Anyway :)

He would definitely court you for a week even if you’ve already been together for over a year. The day of his proposal he would take you to a spot only he knows that has zero light pollution. Of course it’s deep in the forest.

MC: If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re trying to kill me and hide my body Xavier: You have such creative thoughts MC: Seriously where are we going? Xavier: Somewhere special MC: So mysterious even after a year of dating

He’d bring you to a clearing that seemed like it was being lit up by a spotlight. It’s not though he chose to propose on a night with a full moon and clear skies so you could see how beautiful the stars are without all the city lights.

MC: It’s otherworldly Xavier: This was my favorite place to come when I needed clarity MC: Why didn’t you show me sooner? Xavier: I wanted to save it for a special day MC: oh what are you going to propose or something?

You’d be laughing and boom he pulls a ring out of his pocket shutting you right up.

MC: Oh shit! You’re really proposing Xavier: Yes im really proposing

His speech is so sweet it could give you cavities not only would he emphasize how much he loves you he’d let you know just how much he is solely yours. Even if you were to one day forget him and how much he loves you he would still always be yours and would do anything to keep you safe & most of all happy.

Xavier: My lady will you marry me? MC: I want nothing more

He might’ve been sweet and soft spoken during his proposal but that shy boy facade went out the window when you two got back home.

Sylus

It’s canon that Sylus gets nervous when he wants to ask you out. So just imagine how nervous he is getting ready to propose! He already constantly gifts you pretty gems and the gifts just keep increasing over the course of 3 months.

He second guesses himself thinking you may say no so he keeps putting it off but continues to shower you in gifts, quality time, full body massages, shopping sprees, dinner dates, lunch dates, you name it he’s doing it, you want it he got it. He’d be spoiling you so much you’d have to sit him down and ask him what’s going on. He would dismiss your concerns of course.

MC: Are you guys leaving for a while? Kieran: Why do you ask? MC: Sylus has been acting weird I feel like he’s about to disappear again Luke: That was one time and boss only did that because you asked him to leave you alone MC: I know but I’m worried now Luke: Relax miss hunter you’re overthinking

The twins would indeed gaslight you while Sylus worked up the nerve to propose. When he finally has the nerve to do it he goes all out. I’m talking he'd rent out the most exquisite restaurant money can buy. A whole staff at your beck and call. He'd wine and dine you with delicious food and expensive wine. By the time dessert comes you'd want answers.

MC: You're leaving me aren't you Sylus: Jumping to conclusions are we? MC: I'm serious Sylus you haven't been yourself lately you're worrying me Sylus: I guess this is the part where I explain myself

With two snaps of his fingers the twins would rush out; Kieran placing a giant box bouquet of red roses in your arms and Luke placing a crown on your head before rushing out leaving the two of you alone.

MC: What's this? and what am I a Princess? Sylus: You are and I'd love to change your title to Queen MC: Stop are you....

I don't picture Sylus giving a long winded speech. I feel like he would be the type to write it down so you could cherish his words forever.

Sylus: Will you marry me Miss Hunter? You can say no if- MC: Of course I'll marry you

Yet again I'm tackling this man as soon as he slips that ring on. Need to be in his arms immediately. Expeditiously.

Zayne & Rafayel here…

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #lnds sylus #sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lads #lads xavier #lnds xavier #lnds #xavier love and deepspace #nikaaaaimagine

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moonlight-prose · 3 months ago

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HUGH JACKMAN CHARACTERS MASTERLIST✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

note: below is the extensive list of fics i've written for hugh jackman characters. logan might wind up with his own masterlist later one, but for now he can be found here.

Under no circumstances may you steal my work, say it’s yours, or post it somewhere else. The writings I put on here are mine unless stated otherwise.

smut =🔥| angst =💫 | fluff =🌙

LOGAN HOWLETT ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Right Where You Left Me | 18+🔥| ONGOING SERIES

summary: logan was familiar with death. he understood why it happened, what could cause it to occur, and finally how to accept it. so when his family - the people he cared for most - died…he thought he could handle it. only you didn’t die. you left. now he’s found himself in a new universe with a person who wears your face, yet doesn’t hold your memories.

Heart Made of Glass |💫

summary: you couldn’t control when they could come. the waves of nothingness - of battling with your body and mind in the hopes it would cause a shift. you wanted to control it. he simply wanted to help.

The Grave of Lust | 18+🔥| Old Man!Logan

summary: when his body doesn’t work as it used to and the weary bones that poison his soul begin to ache, you take the lead in a dance you know well. OR giving old man logan sloppy head that he’ll think about in the grave and after.

Sweetness of the Damned | 18+🔥| Old Man!Logan

summary: when night falls and wine overflows in glasses of crystal, logan finds his home in between your thighs.

Slow | 18+🔥| Old Man!Logan

summary: time spent after long days outside is slow. languid in a way only he can give you.

Taste Me on Your Tongue | 18+🔥

summary: the taste of him became an addiction you couldn’t ignore. especially when he was adamant on sharing it in multiple ways.

old man logan thoughts & musings | 18+🔥| pt.2 | pt.3

summary: thoughts about this old man and how much he's feral for you.

hunger | 18+🔥

summary: things are set into motion the second logan opens your drawer. suddenly you find yourself the center of a show with only one audience member.

speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life | 18+🔥

summary: he knew he loved you when your words begin to piece his heart back together. he knew he loved you when he flourishes at your praise. he knew he loved you when nothing in this world could matter but the sound of your voice telling him you love him too.

Pick Your Poison | 18+🔥| ONGOING SERIES

summary: death meant nothing to someone steeped in it. a shovel remained propped next to your front door, a bag of grave dirt hung on a hook, and a collection of poison was stuffed in your cabinets. only when you arise in the vicinity of a lumberjack named logan, you’re in for a rude awakening.

A Case of You | 18+🔥| old man!logan howlett x f!reader x joel miller | UPCOMING SERIES

summary: life in jackson was quiet. serenity in a bottle that’d been poured out along the side of a mountain. a haven to finally grasp some parts of life that you thought were lost forever. you had your apothecary shop, your home, but still some piece of your heart was missing. until you meet your neighbors and come across the full picture of your future you didn’t have before.

have a cigar | 18+🔥

summary: everyone knows who you belong to. if the jacket you wore that left you drowning in the soft leather wasn’t indication enough, then the claws attached to your guard dog certainly was.

Don't Mind Me |🌙

summary: you refused to admit that you were smitten with the man who melted your otherwise intelligent mind. you were however…horrible with subtlety. luckily the same could be said for him.

Wondering Why | 18+🔥| cowboy!old man logan

summary: loving logan howlett felt like loving a ghost. he returned when the moon hung low in the sky and his time gave way for freedom. but when you needed him most, he arrived on your doorstep with the promise of giving you exactly what you want.

dreams unwind, love's a state of mind | 18+🔥| dofp!logan

summary: they told him to change the future, to right the wrongs that the world caused. but he didn’t do it for them. he did it for the chance to see his lover one more time. even if he shared a different history than them.

Dust to Dust | 18+🔥| old man!logan

summary: when the days are long and he’s grown weary of everything, he knows he can find his peace in your body. that is until he brings a whole new understanding to the belt buckle that sits proudly on his waist.

nameless as a river undiscovered underground | 18+🔥

summary: his leather jacket remained a tie between your love and his. the weight of it, the smell of your intertwined scents, all revolved around a relationship he never thought would happen.

#logan thoughts & musings

EDDIE ALDEN ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

love is here to stay | 18+🔥

summary: mornings where the summer heat was unbearable and energy was nowhere to be found, made getting up a difficult task. add a sleepy eddie and a multitude of kisses and suddenly it became near impossible.

Hopelessly Devoted to You | UPCOMING

summary: being friends with eddie alden came with challenges. you'd known him since you were eleven and he was twelve and the funniest thing to do was push you down. yet now you're older and suddenly you see him as someone else.

DROVER ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Never Lovelier | 18+🔥| UPCOMING

summary: a day spent working with horses in the hot sun left him hungry for your affection. for the soft touch of your love. OR drover uses his whip for romantic interests.

LEOPOLD ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

UNTITLED FALL THEMED FIC

GABRIEL VAN HELSING ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

bound in the strands of permanence | 18+🔥

summary: he walked with monsters in the night, claiming their lives for a vendetta placed upon him by the church. but he found peace in daylight with the touch of your healing hands.

Amor Vincint Omnia | 18+🔥| UPCOMING SERIES

©moonlight-prose do not feed my work into ai, do not steal my work, if you are a minor, spam like my fics, or are a blank blog you will be blocked.

#logan howlett x reader #drover x reader #eddie alden x reader #leopold x reader #hugh jackman #my writing

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punkpandapatrixk · 4 months ago

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💐A Scenery of You and Me ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

People say Divine Counterparts often share parallel experiences in this mortal realm. In what ways are your life events mirroring that of your Destined Person’s?

Oh, the Pile VIBEs of this PAC are all quite poignant songs in their own ways but…I’m getting that this is how your Destined Person loves you. So, immensely, soul-crushingly devoted to you that this Love brings tears to those who witness or hear about it.

This is a Love Story filled with scenery of compassion, cosmic connection and faith in each other’s unwavering loyalty. Quite nothing in this mortal world could hold more beauty than the Love you share with your Destined Person~♥︎

So bask in this lovely aenergy and give yourself a chance to believe in a Higher Romance~♡

SONG: To Be With You by The Honey Trees

MOVIE: PONYO (2008)

deck-bottom: XIX The Sun, Silver Astrologer (John Dee), Priestess of Beauty

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings] [buymeaboba]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – A Never-ending Story of Love and Sweetness

VIBE: 月の光をたよりに (tsuki no hikari wo tayori ni; By the Light of the Moon) by Plastic Tree

the idea of you – 7 of Cups

There is a very mature aenergy attached to this Pile, so I’m getting that for the majority of you, this is a Union that comes after a significant spiritual evolution has taken place. It’s very likely that your Union comes after a certain Saturn Return period for the both of you. A huge age gap is also indicated because there’s a huge period between a person’s First and Second Saturn Return, right? You could finally be in a Divine Union with your Destined Person after both of you have come out of your own respective Saturn Return phases.

With that configuration in mind, this Union is something that could only occur after the both of you are well over the age of 30. Before that point, you were always looking all round for each other. You both are dreamy, you dreamt of each other, all the time. All your lives, in fact. There’s a strong Neptunian/Piscean aenergy as well as 12th House placements here. What you’ve always wanted was a Love that’s pure and cosmic—a sensation most Humans can’t even begin to register in their primitive brains.

For the really spiritual ones here, I’m getting that this could’ve made you single for a very long time! You know there’s someone Divine who’s destined to be your Counterpart in this mortal realm. And you’ve wanted this person and this person alone even if you didn’t know yet who this person is. You’ve just always held on to the faith. But the less spiritual ones here could’ve serial-dated or married multiple partners in this deluded search for The One.

the sight of you – Knight of Pentacles

If you haven’t necessarily dreamt of your Destined Person, at least you’ve had daydreams of what they’re supposed to be like. An often hazy idea of how their Love is supposed to make you feel. You’ve felt each other a lot throughout your lives, actually. In fact, this is how you’re manifesting each other, even if it can be painful at times, and takes a goddamn long time. But this is King and Queen aenergy, right? People, strangely enough, need to go through hardships and heartbreaks before they can become truly mature. Spiritually mature in this case.

All of that is deeply necessary for your Union to have any meaning at all. Because King and Queen, their existence is supposed to serve the people. Your Union is so divine it will serve as an example, it will give people hope, and possibly a sense of validation. King and Queen are guides for the people. That’s why both of you have got to learn to get your shit together before coming into Union~ Over-privileged King and Queen who’ve never known the sorrow the people go through every day won’t make an endearing power-couple at all! XD

And so it was necessary for you to have graduated at least your First Saturn Return. To have rebuilt your entire sense of self, your entire worldview with just the essence of each other’s Love! If there’s a huge age gap between you and your Destined Person, one of you could’ve waited for a damn long time. But, whichever of you have manifested this reading in your Interface of Reality is gonna be the one who travels to the other! Actually, pretty soon! \`★_★`/

holding you in my arms – Page of Wands

Whoever is the Feminine aenergy in this connection will make the journey to the Masculine. Like a Queen who makes the journey to arrive at the King’s castle. Like Ponyo being the one who makes an effort to arrive in the Human world, as Human, to be with Sosuke. The Feminine works on herself to be an equal companion to the King. This whole journey though, will follow the Natural Order of the Universe, so it will be very pleasant and exciting for the Feminine! <3

On the other hand, the Masculine in this connection will have worked on himself to know what true Love is, and to have worked on his own version of his great empire as a divine offering to the Feminine <3 He works on becoming the most Divine version of himself so as to be worthy of his Queen’s Love and Compassion whilst simultaneously offering her the most spiritual rendition of Love and Prosperity. Yours is a Divine Union of equal counterparts where each brings something of great meaning to the household <3

When you finally hold each other in your arms, you will be healing each other in all of the ways a person could be healed. It’s true magick, but so natural and seamless. No matter how old or young you are when reading this, provided you’ve at least graduated your First Saturn Return, that Love is now wide open for you to access. Keep the faith, it’s happening, Queen! Prepare yourself for each other’s advent in your physical Reality <3

EMBRACE🔻💙

the best part – Priestess of Clarity

forever and ever and ever – Priestess of Healing

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Freedom, Freewill, I Manifest YOU in My Reality! Get ready!

VIBE: 本日は晴天なり (honjitsu wa seiten nari; Today Is Going to be Sunny) by Plastic Tree

the idea of you – 5 of Wands

The peeps attracted to this Pile are most likely the Masculine aenergy who’s proactively manifesting your Feminine Counterpart. If you resonate with being the Feminine aenergy and you’ve chosen this Pile, it could contain information on how you’re being manifested by your Masculine Counterpart ;P

You and your Destined Person have been living quite a chaotic Life. This could be your default normal, but this could also be simply a Tower Moment you’re going through as part of your soul’s evolution. There’s this feeling of praying for some kind of magic that would end all of this unsettling feeling deep inside of you.

For some, this unsettling feeling could come from immense boredom. Perhaps from being in a wrong relationship with somebody who’s not your Destined Person. For some, perhaps there’s been a lot of conflict and deliberate misunderstandings in a relationship that’s just not for you. It’s just tiring. Some of you could simply be feeling a lack of excitement because you’ve not been in a committed relationship for far too long and your heart has begun to pine for your The One.

All in all, this is now making you think and daydream about your Ideal Counterpart. Taking into account all that you’ve learnt about failed relationships, from your own or observing other people’s, you’ve begun to somewhat make a list of characteristics of the person you’d like to spend the rest of your Life with.

the sight of you – King of Cups Rx

Well, as they say, visions and daydreams are never too random, right? What if those visions and ideals are there because someone who’s destined for you is actually sending those signals? ;P Maybe your hearts are somewhat connected and now you’re receiving glimpses of what your Destined Person could be for you in this physical Realm. And if you follow the Light coming from that ‘lighthouse’ and you uphold your standards, do you think the Universe will forsake that courage to believe?

And as much as you’re thinking of your Ideal Counterpart, what if your Ideal Counterpart is also thinking and daydreaming the same for themselves? And by the natural order of the Law of One, surely it’s just a matter of vibrational matching until you and your Destined Person become One. Vibrational matching takes time, mainly for us to develop well, and if you can maintain the faith in this divine connection, in the blink of an eye Divine Timing will carry you both into Union <3 Pssst, Divine Timing is misunderstood as fuck; it’s a matter of elevated vibrations; not time!

Just know that your kind of connection usually doesn’t follow a lot of logic, let alone norms and societal expectations. So now, it’s just you and your imaginations, and whether or not these ideals can come to fruition is a matter of how much you believe you’re deserving of all the good things you’ve daydreamed for yourself <3

holding you in my arms – Ace of Cups

So as you can see, if you’ve chosen this as your main pile, you’re quite literally in the midst of attracting and simultaneously being attracted by your Destined Person! This is so cute because it’s reminiscent of Disney’s Sleeping Beauty! The two main characters were literally ‘ordained by the (holy) kingdom’ to be together, but for one reason or another, they got separated and grew up not knowing each other. And still…

At some point in time, they were magnetised by Destiny, and when they met, it felt like they’d known each other from a dream. ‘I know you. I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you. That gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam. Yet I know it’s true that visions are seldom as they seem. But if I know you, I know what you’ll do. You’ll love me at once, the way you did once, upon, a dream.’

Upon rendezvous with your Destined Person, you will immediately fall in love with all that they are and fit each other beautifully. You are each other’s most ideal types and you will soon recognise that this person is a dream come true you’ve long dreamt of and now manifested. You, or them, will say, ‘Took you a while, but I’m glad you’re here now~’ It will all be very sweet and lovely, and you will know, this was ordained by the Holy <3

EMBRACE🔻💗

the best part – Priestess of Magick

forever and ever and ever – Priestess of Intuition

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – We Are Too Extraordinary to Live an Ordinary Life

VIBE: 冬の海は遊泳禁止で (fuyu no umi wa yueikinshi de; Swimming in the Winter Sea is Prohibited, So…) by Plastic Tree

the idea of you – 4 of Wands

OMG, SERIOUSLY?! This Pile literally got ALL of the ‘happy marriage’ cards that exist in tarot! XD

You and your Destined Person are destined to ‘marry’ one another. Depending on how strange and anti-establishment you are (LOL), ‘marriage’ can mean many different things for you. But the essence of a Divine Matrimony is strong with your connection. As such, it can easily translate into what society deems as ‘traditional marriage’.

Even if a ‘legal marriage’ isn’t exactly your thing, everybody around you will still be able to see that what you have is exactly what a marriage should be! It’s lovely, respectful, helpful, and just…my god, sweetly holy. You and your Destined Person is the Prototype of what Love in a physical form should translate as. Even as grownups, there’s something deeply pure in the way you adore one another. There’s something covetous in the way you care for one another.

Being with your Destined Person is a true homecoming to your own Soul. Being with each other feels like the most natural thing to have happened in the world. Everything is right in the world when you’re in the embrace of your Destined Person’s and vice versa. Your Destined Person will bring a change of scenery in your everyday Life, in a big way, and then offer a new sense of community with their people <3

the sight of you – 6 of Pentacles

You will love your Destined Person’s people so much because they’re such good people. In many deeply layered ways, many of their friends and relatives are also part of your Soul Family, so it feels natural that they, too, feel a familiar feeling with you. Everything that your Destined Person has is yours. This will not be given to you out of duty; everything will be offered you out of pure Love.

Your Destined Person is the type that will even invent something just to make your world a better one to live in. For one though, your Destined Person is wealthy and has a high status in society. At minimum, they have a super fruitful work filled with meaning, which ensures their incredible reputation and stream of income. This is somebody who’s regarded very highly by their peers and community, and when you are brought together by the divine order of the holy, they will make you an important part of the throne they sit upon.

With your Destined Person, you will not walk behind them the way Kate walks behind Prince William (blegh). You will sit on your Destined Person’s lap on their throne—that’s how much they value you! If they happen to be the Masculine and you’re the Feminine, this devotion and immense level of respect for you will not diminish their Light at all; it will only serve to set an example, of how a true King treats his Queen, whom he respects and loves very dearly~♥︎

holding you in my arms – King of Pentacles & 10 of Cups

Y’all know I hardly ever take 2 cards for a segment because I’m mathematical (LOL) buuut for some reason this one wanted me to take a peek, and peek I did and I was delighted~☆

Your Destined Person is truly the embodiment of a King aenergy, whatever their gender may be. This is perhaps a person who beats to their own drums and defies logical expectations. They’re weird, to be honest, the good kind of rebellious weird. Because the world is crazy and full of losers anyway, your Destined Person’s weird is exactly what makes them the SANEST in this world of lunatics.

This is a person who, in spite of appearing whacko to the world, actually possesses values that are rather ‘traditional’, in the sense that they align themselves with the aenergetic Yin and Yang of the Cosmos. If they assume the male role, you bet they take their maleness very seriously and will do everything in their power to provide an amazing household for you. They help around the house because that’s what’s sensible, too. They are a responsible one! If they happen to be ULTRA WEALTHY, they’re the type to hire bodyguards and/or assistants for you at home and work.

And for sure, this is the Pile that’s blessed with children. If for whatever reason an actual child isn’t possible for you, this is saying that you and your Destined Person are going to birth a new paradigm. Perhaps you will build, invent, create something in your name, which then becomes your legacy. Leaving a legacy is a huge part of your Divine Union because, you both are too extraordinary to die as ordinary people. Long after you’re gone, you’re still going to be remembered as an example of what Love could be in this Human realm~♦︎

EMBRACE🔻💛

the best part – Priestess of Ritual

forever and ever and ever – Priestess of Luxury

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 2] [Part 3]

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sugucidal · 1 year ago

Text

# HOW TO SEDUCE YOUR NEIGHBOR 101 !!

CHAPTER i. [3k words]

୨୧‬┊pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! reader

୨୧‬┊synopsis: with winter break having rolled around the corner, you’ve decided to spend it with your family back at home. it felt nice being back after 2 years away at university. you just wish your mom had told you that a certain guest was visiting. one that you hadn’t expected to ever have to face again.

୨୧‬┊warnings: fluff! + age gap (reader is 19 and toji is 34) + taboo content (cause what’re u doin tryna get tojis middle aged ass in ur bed smh) + slice of life kind of (??) + suggestiveness + humor + reader is in her winter bimbo era + toji is…toji. + no smut yet sorryy + slight slowburn + everything is legal! no ones going to jail!

୨୧‬┊a/n: first chapter woohooo !!! second chapter will finally be coming out on [redacted] <3

‪MAIN POST | part i. > part ii. > part iii.

Tugging at the sleeves of your jacket further down your hands, you let out an exhale, nerves set ablaze. The typical cool spring air was colder than usual this particular night out, sun having already set and moon shining up into the dark, starry sky.

Fiddling with the hem of your mini skirt, you gazed up, doe eyes glinting heatedly up at the man you've harbored adoration towards.

You were finally gonna confess.

"I want you."

The simple words that held so much weight filled the space between you both.

A sigh in response. Oh no. You already knew what was coming, but you hoped to any deity or god from above that it wouldn't turn out this way.

"Kid, you're way too young for me." The smoke blowing past his lips wafted through the stiff air, his scar pulling at the corner of his mouth in dismay. "If you were older maybe I'd consider it. Wouldn't bet on it though, since you're such a pain in the ass to deal with."

You let his words hang momentarily, trying to come up with a sufficient rebuttal. You knew he was only playing when he said you were a pain to deal with but it still stung your heart to hear it coming from him. But you weren't gonna give up that easily. You've had a crush on this man ever since he moved into the neighborhood years ago!

What started out as innocent puppy love slowly built its way into this desire, stemmed deep at the heart the older you got. You'd watch as he invited women into his home late into the hours of the night, clinging onto him like a leech in a body of lakewater. God, how you wish it was you he'd have brought into his home on those late nights. Lustfully gazing down at you with promises of this being the best you'll ever have, one you'd be thinking back on until the day you die.

He knew exactly just how much you craved for his touch. It wasn't hard to see that he felt the same, you could see it in the way he'd glance in your direction whenever you purposely wore something revealing, hoping to catch his eye. He told you that you shouldn't wear things like that at your age around men, that they were dangerous, intentions impure. As if he wasn't one of those men he was warning you about. But despite it all, he always looked the other way. Kept a boundary of barbed wire up, no way of climbing through. Frankly, it was annoying.

You hate when people play hard to get.

"So...you mean once I'm 18, you'll take up my offer?" If he couldn't get with you because you were 'too young' then surely he'd concede if you were legally an adult...right?

"Not exactly what I said, but sure," Taking one last final drag of his cigar, he stomped it out onto the pavement, sharp eyes gazing at you discerningly one last time before turning the other way.

"Whatever gets you off my case."

That was the last time you spoke with Toji and almost 2 years have gone by since then. The rejection after the confession hurt no doubt, but the avoidance of Toji towards you afterwards, hurt like salt to a fresh wound.

You rarely saw him after that, suddenly out for weeks to months at a time for work. Sometimes he'd come by when he was free and have idle chats with your parents any time they saw him down the neighborhood. Not bothering to spare a polite greeting or glance in your direction whenever you were present. What used to be a strong bond between family friend and their doting daughter, having met him at an early age, quickly turned awkward and tense, distance overtaking whatever there once was.

You regret talking to him that night every single day.

Unfortunately, you couldn't bring back the past and fix your fuck up. On the other hand, the days of being immature and bratty were long gone. Having been replaced by someone more mature and less dense.

Living off pre-packaged noodles and staying up till 6 am finishing up assignments for your university classes due the next hour, does that to a person you suppose.

Now with winter break finally having rolled around the corner, you were able to get that good night's sleep your exhausted ass had been craving for. And the home cooked meals your mother had waiting for you was certainly appreciated as well.

Lugging your bags up the front steps to your parents' quaint home, you took a quick look at the classic 'welcome home' mat under your feet that you were sure still hid a key underneath. Lifting the corner of the mat your suspicions were confirmed.

You'd think they'd realize how unsafe this could be one of these days.

Before you could place the key through the silver lock, you were instead met with the distinct sound of hard, oak wood doors being unlocked and swung open.

"Baby, you're finally home! Get in quickly, come on now." Your mother hastily ushered you in, calling over your father to help carry your bags further inside the warmth of your home. The key you held was quickly dropped on the small table near the entrance, and the door kicked shut. The signature smell of a vanilla sugar cookie candle being burnt filled your nostrils, the rest wafting through the air. Anyone would think your family baked with the way they always seem to choose that particular scent regardless of season or weather. Further glancing around, you watched your family's pet cat prance towards you, its furry face wide eyed and complaining to be held. You swear he acted like a dog sometimes.

Guess some things never change.

You just hoped that would've stayed true for a certain someone.

Before you had any more time to dwell on it, you were taken out of your thoughts by the mention of the name you had barely begun to ponder over.

'Speak of the devil', you sighed.

Walking over to the living area, you followed your father picking up your cat on the way, butting in, "Hm? what was that?"

"You remember Toji right?" Nodding your head, your father continued. "We invited him over for dinner tonight."

You paused in your step. "What? Why?" The confusion in your voice was surely noticed. You couldn't exactly say you were unhappy, hell you felt giddy at just the mention of his name, but you were still hung up on the past and weren't ready to face the man that blew off your poor naive, little heart. If you saw his handsome face in person again that's been embarrassingly haunting your dazed mind whenever you're busy writhing and whining atop your soft, cozy sheets—at that dinner table, you might just take the 2 hour car ride back to campus dorms.

You were just a pussy like that. One that couldn't face the culprit of those lingering feelings that had never ceased to falter throughout the years, dead in the eye.

The two quietly glanced at each other at your sudden change in demeanor, eyebrows raised. Before he could continue your mom piped up first, "What do you mean by 'why'? You haven't seen each other in so long. He misses you and I'm sure you two would like to catch up."

"Misses you" You swear your heart might've actually stopped beating. In what world would Toji Fushiguro have missed their friends young daughter after being told straight to their face that they wanted him to fuck her.

"He..misses me?" It sounded a little unbelievable saying it outloud.

"Mhm, after you left for University he asked about you a couple times, wondering when you'd be back to visit," Turning around to walk into the kitchen to get started on dinner, she smiled over her shoulder at you once more, "You must've really left an impression on him."

Nervously laughing you settled your cat down, watching him stride over to sip some water from his bowl.

"Yeah..quite some impression alright."

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

Okay. Okay it's fine. Yeah you haven't seen him in years but it's fine! He's just coming over for dinner. You'll greet him with a friendly smile, he'll ask how you've been- or shit, maybe he won't. Maybe he'll just ignore you again like he's already done. Toji mentioning to your parents that he misses you was probably just a misunderstanding and he meant to say the weather has been misty- yeah. Totally plausible.

"What the hell am I doing.." Taking a once-over to look yourself in the mirror, you just finished applying the finishing touches to your makeup, wiping off any excess gloss at the corner of your lips with a q-tip for a sharp finish. Was the gloss necessary given the fact that it was going to be smudged off during dinner anyway?

The answer was yes. Yes It was.

Just because you were having a small dinner that was probably gonna be awkward as hell with a man you've been wanting- didn't want to see, shouldn't mean you couldn't at least look cute.

A sudden faint sound of muffled talking took you out your inner monologue. Putting away your array of makeup displayed on the varnished wood countertop of your vanity, you walked over to the door pressing an ear against it trying to discern what was being said.

'Hm sounds like there's someone else down there..' quietly poking a head out into the hallway you just barely made out a deep yet familiar voice before quickly being startled by your mother calling out your name.

"Hon, come down and greet Toji!"

Fuck. "C–Coming!" straightening up, you calmed your blazing nerves, mentally preparing yourself for the onslaught of awkward tension that your parents luckily knew nothing of. Bless their complete oblivion.

Walking out into the hallway and down the stairs your eyes immediately locked onto Tojis, gaze shyly looking away and focusing onto nothing in particular. You were better off staring at something near him than at him directly.

Approaching towards where they stood, you tried your best to look as confident as possible. You're a woman now. Not some doe. At least that's what you feel like telling yourself at this moment, as you pick at your nails. Standing straighter, you stood next to your parents, watching as they finished up their talk.

You haven't had a proper conversation with Toji since, well...that night. Not counting the usual greetings you had exchanged with him in the past when you saw each other after. If you could even call it that. If a glance of bare acknowledgement was considered a greeting, then sure. Yet here you were right in front of him, determined to set things right. You had to confront him, it was the only way you'd be able to heal the wound of the past and maybe, even let go.

But first, you'll have to actually talk to him.

Deciding to finally look up at Toji, you were able to make out his features more clearly. He hadn't changed much since you last saw him, still very much tall, and his ever so brooding presence never waned. His jaw was somehow even more defined than before, and he was still rocking the same haircut as he always did.

If it ain't broke, don't fix it I guess.

Overall, he looked good. Better. The best. As he most likely always will be in your eyes.

And you're so lost in your own thoughts that you don't even notice Toji looking down at you in the corner of his eye, trying to hold back a smirk that's beginning to creep up. Silly you, ogling him so openly in front of your own parents. Not like they bothered to ever notice though.

Hearing the three of them laugh about something pulled you away from your stupor, and your attention was immediately latched onto Toji who was the first to speak.

Hopefully he didn't notice you being a creep.

"It's been a while, huh? You still remember me?" You know he's only teasing by asking if you still "remembered" him. The old you would've sassed him up for asking something silly like that, but you don't know if its a good idea to get ahead of yourself and start pulling on his leg this early on.

So you opt for the safest response.

With a polite smile on your lips, you shrugged your shoulders, "Of course. It hasn't been that long."

Toji stared at you for a moment. Shit. Did he not like that answer..?

Then you felt something warm come into contact with the top of your head; it was Toji's hand. Toji was petting you. Or more like ruffling your hair—same difference.

"You barely changed."

You exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding. A moment longer in silence and you don't think you'd be able to hold back the urge to run back up those stairs, slam the door shut behind you, and scream into your pillow.

Why were you so nervous!? You're never nervous when it comes to Toji.

'What's up with me??''

Regardless, you felt yourself being left annoyed at his comment. Disappointed that he probably still saw you as some kid despite not certainly looking or being one at all for that matter.

Too bad you didn't realize he meant it in a different way.

Even if you tried to hide it, Toji could still make out the way you held your hands behind your back, most likely fidgeting with your nails. Seems you've changed, the thought amusing him. The old you he knew would've pounced on him by now, batting your lashes, staring up starry eyed thinking you were being discreet about it.

Nothing gets past him, especially not when you make it so obvious. One thing that hasn't changed though, are the clothes you seemed to purposely wear around him, and him only.

The moment he saw you walk down those stairs, he knew you had him wrapped around your finger all over again. The too short skirt and see-through slip on you adorned leaving almost nothing to the imagination, if not for the cream colored cardigan you wore hiding the slivers of skin, leaving him wanting more of what was underneath.

'What a damn tease..' But Tojis eyes averted by the time your parents noticed your descend towards them. He didn't exactly want them seeing him ogle their daughter so openly.

Before any one of you could say anything more, your mother cut the greetings short. "Great, now that we're all finished reuniting again, let's start eating before the food gets cold."

Walking a little ways behind you, Toji catched the way your hips swayed as you walked. Whether you were doing it intentionally or not, he couldn't say for sure.

But one thing he was sure about, is that you were going to give him one hell of a hard time.

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

The rest of dinner went by quickly. Once you were all seated, your parents and Toji had no problem talking with each other. They were busy discussing something, but your mind was too occupied to actually listen in on what they were saying. Too busy playing around with the food on your plate as your mind ran aimlessly, and foot twitching anxiously.

The night could've been worse. Really, it could've. Sure you haven't made any progress yet, but you'll get there! Overall, nothing particular happened. Except for one thing.

Toji couldn't stop looking at you.

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

Before you knew it, dinner had come to an end. Toji had already taken his leave and bid you all a 'thanks for the meal' and a goodbye. Finally. Now you can slip away to your room, wipe off your makeup, and lay awake in your bed as you regret everything you could've said and done tonight but didn't without anyone noticing–

"Where do you think you're going?" There stood your mom, looking at you expectantly. Were you missing something?

"To my room, why?"

"Didn't you hear at dinner?"

'Was I supposed to hear something at dinner?'

"No, hear what exactly?"

"Tomorrow, you're going out to buy some decorations for a party we're having."

A beat of silence. Your eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as you wondered why the hell you would be having a party.

"Mom… I appreciate that you want to host a welcome back party for me, but there's really no need to." It's sweet that they missed you this much, but you weren't one for parties that were centered around you.

She laughed. "No, no, not a party for you. I know you don't like that kinda stuff,"

Oh. Nevermind then.

"Our annual winter get together. We do it every year with the rest of the neighborhood and we're the ones hosting this time. Have all those cup noodles gotten to your head and you suddenly forgot?" She shook her head in disappointment.

Low blow, mom.

"I didn't forget! I just...didn't know you'd be the ones doing it this year."

"If you were actually paying attention at dinner then you'd have heard."

"Sorry. So, tomorrow you want me to go out and buy decor right? Cool, I'll go after lunch."

Thinking that was the end of that, you began to trudge your way towards the staircase. Already almost at the top when your mother called out to you once more.

"Oh! and Toji's accompanying you."

Yup, definitely going to scream into your pillow tonight.

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