#he just stands there looking at the side of your face | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lowkeyren · 2 days ago

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—reject me not!

in which : when your sudden confession catches blade off guard, his response comes across as a rejection. though he realises his mistake, and tries his best to make things right. (...it gives the whole hq a headache)

slight humor, idiots in love, mutual pining, misunderstanding, you tease him w/o realizing (n he gets back at u hehe), reader is a stellaron hunter, stellaron hunters wingwomen!!!, art by @/kkuekkue on x. reblogs are appreciated! please enjoy <3

wc: 4.2k // hm secret santa? HOHOHO @mikashisus, rayray!! u might pull ur hair out at some parts idk :joy: happy reading n merry christmas my little elf xx

"i think i like you."

the words leave your mouth quicker than your brain can second-guess them.

blade freezes mid-step, his back visibly stiffening. when he turns to face you, his sharp, cold eyes betray a fleeting glimmer of surprise, perhaps, or confusion —but it disappears as quickly as it came.

he stares at you, his eyes widening just slightly, the faintest crack in his carefully maintained composure.

but then, his lips part, and all he gives you is a single, flat response.

"i see."

two short, dismissive words. not a smile, not a frown —just two clipped words. you tilt your head, expecting some form of elaboration, but instead he just turns on his heel, his coat swishing behind him as he starts to walk away.

(what you don’t see is the way his hands curl into fists as he walks off, how his steps falter just around the corner, or the way he presses a hand against his chest to steady the sudden, overwhelming ache blooming there.)

…must this guy really be so blunt?!?!!

you sigh, a little laugh escaping despite your current situation. of all the possible responses you could’ve imagined, ‘i see’ definitely wasn’t one of them. you shake your head, a part of you wonders if elio is watching, silently laughing at your predicament right now.

it’s fine. really. you should’ve known better than to think he’d say anything different.

though the big problem now is, blade knows about your silly crush on him, so facing him in the future is going to be a total nightmare that you’re not ready to accept. you can already feel the embarrassment creeping up like it’s going to suffocate you.

“where's [name]?”

blade steps into the base. silver wolf, tucked in the corner, engrossed in her console, raises a hand in greeting without looking up. blade nods in acknowledgment, before replying to kafka, "i went ahead of them," his voice sounds a little more strained than usual, before quickly turning to make a beeline for his room.

but kafka, ever perceptive, senses something’s off. she tilts her head with a smirk, "bladie, did something happen?"

he denies it with a quick shake of his head before slipping past her. having no other option, she resorts to… unconventional methods.

with a flick of her wrist and a soft, almost melodic whisper, she purrs, "listen to me.”

the moment those familiar words hit his ears, a wave of calm washes over him, and against his will, he halts mid-step. "now tell me what happened, will you?"

he sighs and he rubs the back of his neck. “take your time, bladie.” after a long pause he speaks again, "[name] said they... they liked me."

kafka watches him closely, a grin slowly spreading across her face. "and then what happened, hmm?" she teases.

out of the corner of his eyes, he sees silver wolf perk up at his words, but he pays her no mind as his thoughts are too tangled in what he’s about to say next, the words barely scraping past his throat.

...

the next hour consists of him being ‘lectured’ by his fellow coworkers.

he tries to tune out the barrage of teasing, but something about “bladie, that's not how you reciprocate,” to “ain’t no way bro fumbled that badly,” managed to stick with him, unfortunately. (he looks over to firefly standing to the side, but she only giggles and shakes her head at him.)

but really, how was he supposed to tell them that he panicked? that he was so stunned by your confession, so overwhelmed, that he could barely form a coherent sentence? that his awkward, dismissive reply wasn’t rejection, but a pathetic attempt to mask his own vulnerability?

the thought of you avoiding him, of thinking he doesn’t care, makes his chest ache with a pain he hadn't experienced for the past few centuries.

blade makes a mental note to find you as soon as possible. he doesn’t know how to explain himself, not entirely; words have never been his strong suit, but somehow, some way, he’ll make it up to you.

later, you return to the base, your steps hesitant as you walk in. the moment you enter, the group falls silent, all eyes snapping to you. there’s an awkward stillness in the air, like they were caught in the middle of something. your gaze sweeps over the room, and it lands on blade. when you lock eyes with him, a flush creeps up your neck, and you quickly avert your gaze.

"excuse me!" you blurt out and almost sprint to your room.

...do they all know?! this has to be the most embarrassing day of your life.

you agreed to meet kafka at a bar near your current mission to discuss your next task. the magenta haired woman had mentioned it casually when you’d asked, cryptic as usual, only revealing that the task was important but leaving out certain key details —such as conveniently leaving out the part about blade being there too, of course.

(“bladie,” kafka’s voice took on a singsong lilt, her playful smile unmistakable as she glanced at him. “you’re going to use this chance to make it up to them, ‘kay?”

blade only kept his eyes trained on the entrance, silently waiting for you to arrive.)

running late, your prior mission having dragged on longer than expected, you found yourself hurrying to the bar, weaving through the sparse but lingering foot traffic of the evening.

after what feels like hours, you finally make it to the bar. stepping in, your eyes scan the room for kafka, when suddenly, a man steps right into your path.

the man smiles warmly, though you could tell he’s had a few to drink tonight. his tone is friendly, with just a hint of flirtation as he strikes up a conversation, casually asking if you’d be interested in grabbing a drink sometime.

he’s polite, respectful even, and there’s nothing about him that feels overly forward or aggressive —just a man who’s trying his luck, that’s all. still, you can't help but feel a slight annoyance at the timing.

as you try to figure out a way to decline his invitation, you remain oblivious to blade’s gaze —specifically, how it's fixed on you, or rather, more pointedly on the back of the man’s neck.

“you’re going to snap his neck if you keep looking at him like that.” kafka’s voice cuts through the tension, her tone teasing as she watches the exchange from the side.

“i don’t like what he’s doing,” blade mutters, his voice low and filled with an edge that suggests far more than just mild annoyance.

kafka chuckles softly to herself, already knowing where this is headed. it’s not an outright confession of jealousy, of course —he would never admit to something as petty as that, and she knows better than to push him on this one.

nevertheless, she still catches it, her lips curling into a knowing smile. even if blade would never call it jealousy, it’s enough to push him into doing something completely out of character —something he’ll never, ever do (until now).

kafka notices immediately. her eyes widen just a fraction before she sets down her wine glass with a graceful motion, amusement dancing in her eyes. and perhaps to make sure he doesn’t look too foolish, she decides to play along and help him act the part.

a sharp clang of glass hitting the table catches your attention. your brows knit in confusion; you glance over instinctively, your eyes meeting kafka's for a brief moment. her expression is unreadable, but the faint curve of her lips makes you wonder what’s really going on.

curiosity pulls your gaze lower, to the drunk figure slumped over at her table, seemingly drunk, his head resting heavily on his arm. the spilled drink pools on the floor beside him, glinting under the dim light.

at first, you only catch a glimpse of dark, tousled hair, streaked faintly with deep crimson at the ends —so strikingly familiar it makes you pause. then, as your eyes trace over the sharp line of his jaw and the stiff set of his shoulders, realisation dawns on you.

wait a second.

your jaw nearly drops as you piece it together. the man lying there, seemingly drunk out of his mind, is none other than the last person you would want to see right now.

blade.

your gaze darts between him and the polite man still standing awkwardly in front of you. blade, on the other hand, never lets his guard down, so this... state of his? unprecedented.

apologetically, you offer a small smile to the man before rushing to blade’s side, urgency in every step as you push past the tables, heart hammering in your chest.

blade’s eyes subtly flicker over to you as you approach, and you can almost sense the slightest shift in his demeanor, the thought of you giving your time to someone else, especially someone so... ineffectual —grates at him.

he swallows the ugly feeling down his throat. perhaps he’s let this irked him more than it should. but it’s too late to back out now that you’re standing right beside him, the weight of your presence making the tension in his chest only more pronounced.

as if on cue, kafka’s voice breaks the silence, “as you can see, [name], our dear bladie here has gotten himself a bit... roughed up,” she says, casually catching the wine glass that had been teetering on the edge of the table.

her lips curl into a playful smile as she glances at blade, whose jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. “drinking doesn’t seem to suit him, wouldn’t you agree?” kafka continues, her tone light but unmistakably amused. her eyes flicker between the two of you, as if she’s thoroughly enjoying the situation unraveling before her far more than she should.

you blink, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected scene. your worry only deepens as you shift your attention back to blade, who remains uncharacteristically silent, his head now resting on his arm as though he really had overindulged.

“blade,” you say softly, your voice carrying just the slightest edge of concern. “what happened?”

before he can answer —or before he’s forced to lie —kafka chuckles, waving a hand as if to dismiss your worry.

“oh, nothing serious. he just got a little too carried away with his drink.” she leans back in her chair, a sly glint in her eye that you’re too preoccupied to notice. your gaze falls back to blade, his hair slightly tousled.

without thinking, you reach out, gently brushing a strand strand from his forehead. his eyes flutter open at the contact —those striking, sharp eyes you’ve always found yourself drawn to, dark yet you can’t bring yourself to look away from.

you notice the faint redness creeping across his cheeks and the line of his jaw, down to his neck. his skin hot to the touch under your fingers. “you’re warm,” you murmur softly, assuming the alcohol is to blame.

if only you knew the warmth searing through him has nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with you.

“ah,” kafka hums, pulling you out of your thoughts. “it seems something urgent has come up that needs my attention.” there’s an unmistakable glint of mischief in her eyes. “i’ll leave you two to it.”

you glance at her, startled. “wait, what about—?”

“don’t worry about it,” she interjects, already getting up from her seat. “the bill is already on my tab.”

well, that wasn’t what you were about to ask anyway!

a sly smile curls her lips, and she tilts her head ever so slightly. “hmm, it’s rare to see him like this. [name], you’ll take good care of him, won’t you?” her tone is light, but the underlying implication is clear, leaving you flustered as she turns on her heel, striding off, leaving the two of you alone.

blade leans heavily against you, his tall frame making it an awkward challenge to keep him upright as you guide him out of the bar. one arm is slung over your shoulder, while his other hangs haphazardly against his side.

his head is tilted forward, strands of his dark, crimson-tipped hair brushing against your cheek, and you can feel the warmth radiating from him —whether from his predicament or his proximity, you’re not sure.

you shift your grip, looping an arm around his waist for better support, and his body tenses slightly under your touch. for someone playing the part of drunk so convincingly, he’s strangely aware of your every movement, his hand tightening just faintly on your shoulder when you stumble over a crack in the pavement.

“blade,” you murmur under your breath, trying to shift his weight more evenly as you inch forward. “you’re not making this very easy, you know.”

casting a glance his way, you’re met with a low, almost lazy hum in response. his expression is nothing short of a hazy indifference, though you swear you catch a flicker of clarity in his eyes —a brief, focused intensity that seems out of place, before he looks away.

you can feel the heat of his breath against your temple as he wavers with every step. the night air is cool, but the warmth radiating from his body is undeniable, pressing against your side in a way that sends an unexpected shiver down your spine. the closeness between you feels almost intimate in a way that will surely have you screaming into your pillow later that night.

as you continue down the empty street, blade’s mind races; this is his chance. he knows it. he should say something now, anything, to make it clear —to tell you how he feels. (and how it’s been eating at him for longer than he cares to admit.)

this is it, the moment he’s been waiting for, but all he can do is breathe in the scent of your skin and the warmth of your touch. the sensation is all too familiar, like the pounding in his chest —but this time, it’s not from the heat of battle.

just how much longer he has to deal with this utterly insufferable feeling?

it’s worse now, because as you navigate through the halls of the base, he’s beginning to wonder if this is what it means to care for someone —to be vulnerable.

“here,” you say softly as you stop in front of the door to his room.

he doesn’t want this moment to end.

you glance at him then, finally meeting his eyes, and the look in them knocks the breath from your lungs. they’re hazy, yes, but there's a sharpness beneath the mask of drunkenness, a quiet intensity that makes your heart beat a little faster.

you clear your throat, breaking the silence. "do you need anything else?"

"no," he answers, almost reluctantly. "i’ll be alright."

a twinge of disappointment surges through you. right… it was foolish to expect anything different. he’s already rejected you, and you can’t help but feel a bit ridiculous for thinking it would be any other way.

you stand there for a moment, the silence between you growing thicker with each passing second, before you force yourself to nod, your voice soft as you try to mask the heaviness in your chest.

“goodnight then."

just as you turn to leave, you feel a sudden pull on your hand, your wrist tugged back with surprising gentleness.

"wait," blade suddenly says, and this time, there's no mistaking the sincerity in it. "thank you.”

his bandaged hand rests over yours, and a soft breath escapes you; flustered, you open your mouth to respond, ready to brush it off.

"oh! It's no pro—"

but you’re cut off before you can finish. he raises your hand, pressing his lips to the back of your palm in a soft, lingering kiss.

"—blem..."

your voice falters slightly as a rush of warmth spreads through you. every nerve in your body seems to spark awake all at once, making you hyper-aware of the spot from where his lips brushed against your skin. you freeze, your breath caught in your throat, unable to do anything but stand there, your hand still resting in his.

then, as if nothing happened, he steps back into his room and shuts the door behind him, leaving you standing there, still processing the unexpected moment.

safe to say you got little to no sleep that night. you roll over, staring at the ceiling, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. it feels ridiculous, embarrassing even, how many times you've replayed that scene in your head every time you close your eyes.

you couldn’t help but smile to yourself like a fool.

(“so bladie, how’d it go?” / “...”)

you hadn’t even planned on leaving the base today, let alone stepping foot into the brightly lit chaos of an arcade, but silver wolf had insisted —no, nagged, until you caved. and somehow she’d managed to drag blade (of all people) along, her smug grin all too telling as she pushed the two of you together and skipped off to “go play some gachas”

now, you stand awkwardly by blade’s side, the flashing lights casting a colorful glow over his impassive face. it’s hard to ignore how out of place he looks, his dark coat, sunglasses, and the mask covering his lower face a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere.

yet, somehow, he doesn’t seem to mind the sharp sounds of arcade machines beeping nor the kids screaming in excitement. he just stands there, hands in his pockets, watching you fumble with a stack of game tokens.

“you look thrilled,” you mutter, a sarcastic tone in your voice as you glance at him. it’s strange, though —there’s something oddly endearing about the way he’s standing there, the dark lenses of his sunglasses reflecting a faint outline of your own face. you catch yourself staring for just a moment too long, wishing you could see beyond the lens, wishing you could read his eyes—

you shake the thought off, it’s all just wishful thinking.

behind the shield of his sunglasses, blade’s eyes tracked your every subtle movement, almost unconsciously. he caught the way your expression softened as you turned toward the claw machine, how your lips curved ever so slightly when your gaze settled on that… thing.

it was maddening, how effortlessly you held his focus, how even a trivial moment like this could stir something deep in him. he told himself it was nothing, but the tightening in his chest said otherwise.

he wasn’t one to indulge in sentiment, yet something about the way you stared at that silly plush made him restless, made him want to do something about it, if only to keep that smile on your face a little longer.

would your smile grow brighter if that plush were in your hands?

“let’s go.”

“to where…?” you asked, glancing back at him, the curiosity evident in your voice.

he didn’t answer immediately, but you felt the familiar tug at your hand once again, gentle and insistent, as his gaze slips toward the claw machine where you had been staring earlier.

it’s not hard to imagine the scene as a sweet little moment, with him focused on the claw machine, trying to win you a plush like a doting partner would.

with a soft click, the claw tightens around the plush, and before you can react, it’s being lifted out of the pile, swinging toward the prize chute. you can't help but stare as he pulls the soft toy from the machine with a sense of quiet satisfaction.

(you pocket the rest of the tokens. guess he won’t be needing those… for a first-timer, he sure got lucky —must be beginners' luck, huh?)

you blink, slightly impressed. “wow, you’re good at this,” you remark, unable to hide the surprise in your voice.

without a word, he hands the plushie to you.

you tilt your head slightly, a bit unsure. “for me...?”

“it's yours. take it." he looks to the side; suddenly thankful for the mask —if it weren't for that, you'd surely see the crimson tint creeping up his cheeks right now.

you hesitate for a second longer before reaching out to take it, your fingers brushing against his, a tingle of heat pulses through you, leaving your hand feeling strangely warm.

“th-thank you," you manage to spit out, and your eyes dart away, suddenly very aware of how close he is. surely, this isn’t good for your heart!

the twilight sky stretches wide, the clouds are heavy, and you’re looking oh so earnestly at him. his heart beats a little faster, louder now, as if his body knows exactly what he wants but refuses to let him act on it.

but then, he blinks —once, twice; snapping himself back to reality. he can feel the space between you growing smaller, your presence growing closer.

his eyelids flutter shut instinctively.

and then, the soft press of your lips against his cheek.

a soft sigh escapes him, and his eyes crack open. if you could see his expression right now, you'd catch the vulnerability that flashes in his gaze. he swears he can feel the warmth of your kiss in his very bones.

though not quite the kiss he imagined… it was something. (re: you got his hopes up)

the shock of your own actions hits you like a wave. you swallow thickly, “sorry —i'll go find silver wolf.” avoiding his gaze as you fumble with the tokens in your hand. "i… i’ll pass the extra tokens to her."

without waiting for a response, you turn and hurry off, your pulse pounding in your ears, praying that the ground would swallow you whole.

that night, you lay in bed, the plushie clutched tightly in your arms. the softness of it contrasts sharply with the rush of confusion filling your chest.

why was he being so kind to you? after everything, after the way he rejected you just a few days ago, it made no sense. his actions felt contradictory.

you try to push the memory of the kiss out of your mind; impulsive decisions… often lead to mortifying outcomes. though when you glanced at him afterward, you could’ve sworn his ears were tinged with red, just peeking out from beneath his hair. nevermind, it’s probably your mind playing tricks on you.

blade, who’s as cold as the frost-kissed dusk, walks beside you through the lively festival, his dark coat a striking contrast to the vibrant reds and greens around you.

the faint scent of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider fills the air, mingling with the sound of distant carolers. he doesn’t say much, but there’s something about the way his gloved hand brushes yours, intentionally or not —that makes the chill in the air feel less biting.

you swallow, focusing on the festive stalls ahead, the decorations glittering in the night. “you don't have to stick around, you know. i can manage by myself.”

his steps slow just slightly, and he turns his head toward you, finally speaking. “you think i’d just leave you here?”

the words catch you off guard, and you fumble for a response. “i-i just meant—”

“relax.” he interrupts, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips; his hand grazing yours again. this time, his fingers linger for a moment longer, almost as if testing the waters, before retreating back into the safety of his pocket.

your cheeks flush, and you pretend to be deeply interested in a nearby stall selling hand-knit scarves. just then, his voice cuts through the festive hum. “last week… when you said you liked me,” he starts, and your breath catches.

you whirl back to face him, your heart pounding. “don’t worry about it! really, i—”

“i wasn’t rejecting you,” he says, with an unexpected gentleness in his gaze. “i like you too, [name].”

blade removes his coat, the fabric warm against the cold air as he drapes it around your shoulders, pulling you closer. you stumble, your hand instinctively pressing against his chest to catch your balance.

you look up at him, your breath quickening, as his face draws closer, his eyes locked on yours with that familiar intensity. you let your eyelids flutter shut, lips trembling, heart pounding in your chest as the space between you narrows.

but instead of the kiss you were anticipating, you feel the gentle warmth of his lips brush against your forehead.

your eyes snap open in confusion, only to meet his smirking face. oh... this asshole!

“what?" he teases, his tone deceptively casual. “you seem pretty eager,” his voice drops an octave, hand gently tilting your chin as he leans in just close enough for you to feel his breath against your skin.

you glare up at him, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. the way your lips quiver, unable to hold his gaze for long; the fact that he actually adores that flustered expression on your face... well, that’s when he realises. he’s too far gone.

what a dumbass lmfao

MASTERLIST.

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clovermoters · 1 day ago

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santa, doesn’t know you like i do

ln4 x reader

summary: lando is meeting your extended relatives for the first time, when a harsh comment brings him to a panic attack, your quick to help him.

warnings: panic attack, kisses, hardly proofread or edited and probably some grammar errors

a/n: here’s my day late christmas fic that i wrote half asleep, enjoy beautifuls 💗

you stood in the mudroom of your london apartment carefully applying your new lip product lando had bought you as one of your many christmas gifts.

Lando appears behind you, looking sickeningly handsome in a dress shirt and pants. his hands find your waist as he rests his head on your shoulder, his signature smile on his face as he watches you work your magic.

“you ready?” you ask the boy. he dips his head to place feather light kisses on your neck before snuggling deeper into the nape of your neck. he replies a muffled “not really” before he moves to shove his feet into his air forces.

he holds your coat out to assist you, placing a light peck on your lips once you’re ready to brave the snowy outdoors.

Lando drove you two to your family home, his nerves practically radiating off of him. He had met your parents multiple times before but today he’d get to meet your grandparents and extended relatives.

“Lando, everything’s going to be fine, they’ll love you.” you take his hand in yours. He sighs as he slightly plays with your fingers on your lap while focusing on the road ahead.

“What if they don’t though?” he argued. shooting a worried look at you. you give him an ‘are you kidding me’ look.

“I don't think they can physically hate you, just be yourself and they will adore you, just like I do!” you stretch across the centre console to place a kiss on his cheek.

you pull into the driveway of your childhood home, the christmas lights your dad had hung since you were small still decorating the roof nicely. lando kills the ignition, taking a moment to breathe.

he is so fucking nervous.

you had briefed him slightly this morning, warning him of your relatives being slightly traditional, worried that they wouldn’t understand what lando does and how he’s perfectly capable of providing for the two of you.

and treating you like a princess.

“Alright, let’s go make our entrance” you chime, walking towards the door holding your family favourite casserole and Lando juggles 5 gifts in his hands.

you ring the doorbell, shooting lando a soft smile while he gives you his excitement-nervous smile before the door opens revealing your mother.

“oh don’t you two look adorable!” your mother said smiling wide and rushing to bring you two into a hug. your father close behind her prompting to free up your hands and take your coats.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆

while you exchange your hellos around the house, lando shadows you. his hand interlocked with yours refusing to part even when you hug your relatives. you and lando make your way around the house, introducing lando as you go.

Your aunts and uncles adore him, your cousins fanboy over him and don’t let you walk away until each and every one of them gets a picture with lando. the more people lando met the more outgoing he became. The boy was showing the playful, silly side you saw daily.

“socializing is going smoothly!” Lando jokes. you chuckle while leading him over to your grandfather.

“Grandpa, this is my boyfriend Lando,” Lando offers his hand to shake with him “pleasure to meet you, sir” he added.

your grandfather eyes him while they shake hands. you can tell the man is thinking, and you begin to worry about what he will say next. knowing the man, it won’t be something nice.

“So Lando, what do you do for a living?” the older man asks. jumping straight into the hard questions. Lando stands up a little straighter before replying.

“uh- i drive in formula 1, sir. for mclaren.” you softly squeeze his arm linked with yours, reassuring him of your presence.

“oh, you’re the guy who choked the championship aren’t you?” your grandfather said attempting to innocently tease lando. The man laughs and while Lando joins in the laughter, you can feel him tense up.

you swiftly move on to the rest of your extended relatives, lando slowly began to fall behind you again, regressing back to the shell of shyness from earlier in the evening.

you could sense something was wrong when you noticed how quickly he was zoning out.

He was fidgeting with your fingers while you held a conversation with your aunts who were keen to learn everything about your time spent in monaco. You tried your best to include Lando in the conversation but the boy was too focused on the floor to properly listen to what your aunt had to say.

You excused yourself and Lando, dragging him upstairs into the bathroom to give the two of you some privacy.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly. Lando sits on the edge of the bathtub putting his head in his hands.

He doesn't answer you right away, you stand in front of him, giving him a moment to collect his thoughts.

You silently watch him as his breathing picks up, he lifts his head and the moment his eyes connect with yours, you swear you can hear your heart shatter. His eyes are filled with tears that are threatening to spill onto his face.

You're on his level in a split second, taking his face in your hands. “baby, hey what's wrong?” you push, his breathing is rapid and uneven as he attempts to get the words out.

You wrap your arms around him “shh, it's okay, im here.” you rub circles into his back letting him take a moment.

After a few minutes, Lando's breathing slowed, he wiped his tears with his shirt while you handed him a glass of water.

You were no stranger to Lando having panic attacks, the recent season resulted in Lando suffering from multiple.

You knew what he needed and right now he just needed you to sit with him until he managed to calm himself down enough to communicate to you what he's feeling.

He looks up at you with tearful eyes “your grandfather's words really hit me, and it was just over from there.” he explains. If your heart already wasn't shattered, someone just stomped on it.

“Oh baby” you sigh, gently rubbing his tear stained cheeks. Lando leans into the touch, letting it ground him.

“Don't listen to him, he’s an ass who doesn't understand how your world works. He would just turn the tv on during Sundays and not actually take in anything he is watching” lando chuckles at that, you smile, thankful he's able to laugh.

“You are amazing, and you achieved so much this year. It is the world's fault that they aren't able to see all you accomplished this year and look to the future and see that you are going to kill it next year-”

he cuts you off by pulling you into a kiss, his lips moving in sync with yours as he gently cups your face. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip, asking for access which you happily grant. Your tongues battle each other as the kiss becomes more heated. Lando softly groans into your mouth as you softly bite his lip.

Before the two of you could go past messily making out in your parents bathroom, the sound of your mother announcing dinner is served forces you to pull apart. Lando has a goofy smile on his face while he fixes your hair.

“Thank you, i love you” he whispers before cheekliy placing one last kiss to your lips. “I love you too” you repeat before turning to head down to dinner.

Before you can open the door Lando softly grabs your waist and spins you to face him again. His eyes fall to your lips immediately and just when you think he's about to lean in, his thumb reaches up and softly swipes across your chin.

“You’ve got some lipstick smudged, love.” he teases before waltzing past you as you whip around towards the mirror, quickly fixing your lipstick while he watches you from the door.

Once your makeup looks perfect again, the two of you make your way back to the function, falling into simple conversations over christmas dinner. You watched lando come back to life, simply adoring the way he interacted with your family members.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆

you silently watched from the side as he was in-depth explaining to your aunt how the steering wheel of a car worked, when your small cousin ran up behind him and tapped him on the back.

the boy whips around with a smile plastered on his face “hey lily!” lando crouched down to the girl who was bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“hi lando! i just wanted to say i really liked your race in singapore” she said, lando couldn’t help but smile. he was slightly shocked your cousin had even watched his races.

“oh thank you!” Lando leans in slightly, “Tell you what, maybe I can sneak some passes for you and your family at silverstone?” Lando whispers in a mock secrecy, the younger girl gasps.

“So we'd get to see you race?” she asked excitedly. Lando smiled wider, “would you like that?” the girl nodded profusely before speaking

“yes please! your racing is so cool and you are so cool i want to try karting but my dad said i can't until i turn seven.” she pouts slightly and Lando chuckles.

“I just wanna be like you” she adds with a frown and Lando feels his heart swell in his chest. you had told him that your little cousins looked up to him, but hearing it come from one of their tiny mouths, landos worries from before fade into memories.

you were helping your mother finish the dishes while the house slowly emptied out. lando wraps his arms around your waist while he watches you clean the silverware from over your shoulder.

“your cousins love me.” he says smugly. you giggle softly at him before turning in his arms, “they do love you, i’ve had many phone calls asking if they could talk to you. you’ve replaced me as the role model.”

your hands find comfort in his curls, smiling up at him before he places a quick peck to your cheek.

“c’mon, let’s go home” he takes your hands and you both make your way to the car. As you drove home, Lando replayed the events of tonight in his head, he looked over at you sleeping silently against the cool car window.

realizing he can’t please everybody, he needs to focus on loving the people who do support him and look up to him. he smiled at the thought, turning back to the road as the light turned green.

maybe christmas at your parents wasn’t so bad after all.

tbh this is so bad but whateves MERRY CHRISTMASSSSS and happy holidays to all who celebrates 🤍

#formula 1 #lando norris fanfic #ln4 #lando x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #lando fluff #lando norris #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando x you

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lizziesangel · 18 hours ago

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RAFE CAMERON - your locker

x FEM!KOOK!reader - MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: a note gets left behind when you’re standing in front of rafe’s locker

WORD COUNT: + 1k

GENRE: fluff

CONTENT WARNING: /

you’re sitting in the back row of your english class, doodling absentmindedly on the edge of your notebook. it’s not like you weren’t paying attention to the lecture—well, maybe you weren’t. it’s just that he, sitting three rows in front of you, had completely stolen your focus.

his back is to you, but it doesn’t matter. even with just the back of his head to look at, it’s like he’s the only person in the room.

“are you even listening?” your friend, laura leans over from the seat beside you, her voice pulling you back to reality.

“sorry?”

she follows your line of sight, her lips curling into a grin when she realizes where your attention has been. “oh my gosh, you’re staring at rafe cameron.”

your heart practically leaps out of your chest. “shh!” you whisper harshly, glancing around to make sure no one heard. “i wasn’t staring.”

laura raises an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. “uh, yeah, you were. it’s okay, though. he is hot. honestly, i’m surprised you haven’t, like, said something to him.”

“are you crazy?” you hiss, feeling your face heat up. “i can’t just talk to someone like him. he’s… well, he’s rafe cameron.”

“so?” she shrugs, acting like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “you’re you. you’re smart, funny, cute—”

“stop,” you groan, cutting her off before she can make you even more embarrassed. “he doesn’t even know i exist. there’s no way i’m talking to him.”

“you don’t know that.” sarah gives you a mischievous smile. “he could totally have noticed you. i mean, you’ve got the whole mysterious quiet girl thing going for you.”

you roll your eyes. “mysterious quiet girl? that’s a reach.”

she shrugs, still grinning. “all i’m saying is, you’ll never know unless you try. maybe i should just go up to him and tell him for you.”

“don’t you dare,” you whisper, your voice full of panic.

laura laughs, leaning back in her chair. “fine, fine. but i’m telling you, you’ve got nothing to lose. just go for it.”

“i could lose my dignity.”

laura scoffs with a smile, “you’re really dramatic.”

you glance back toward rafe one more time, catching the way he runs a hand through his hair. yeah, no. there was no way you were going for it. not today, anyway.

you’re standing in the hallway between classes, leaning against a random locker while your friends chatter beside you. your bag was slung over one shoulder, the strap digging slightly into your arm. the bell for lunch has already rung, the hallway filled with noise, a mix of slamming lockers, laughing, and the scrape of sneakers against tile. you weren’t headed anywhere in particular, just trying to kill time while waiting on the rest of your friends.

leaning casually against a random locker, you pull out your phone and scroll through a few messages, feeling the buzz of energy around you.

that’s when you hear it—a low chuckle from a few feet away. you glance up, instinctively drawn to the sound, and freeze. it’s rafe cameron and his friends. they’re walking in your direction, cutting through the crowd like they own the place, which, let’s be honest, they kind of do.

your heart stumbles at the sound. you look up, and there he is—rafe cameron, standing just a few feet away with a small, crooked grin on his face. his friends linger behind him, their gazes flicking between the two of you.

you try to act casual, busying yourself with your phone again, but your stomach flips as they stop a few feet away.

“sorry,” he says, his voice smooth and casual, but there’s a playful glint in his eyes. “mind if i grab something from my locker real quick?”

you blink, your brain struggling to keep up. his locker. you’re leaning on his locker.

“oh, sorry,” you mumble, clutching your bag tighter, before you can move completely out of the way, rafe gently tugs at the side of your bag, just enough to get your attention. “thanks,” he says, his hand dropping as soon as you shift.

as rafe spins the combination lock, you hear a quiet snicker from his friends. your cheeks burn, but when you glance at them, they immediately shut up. kelce and topper both give you these awkward little waves, like they weren’t just laughing. kelce even smiles, wide and kind of goofy, like he’s trying to make up for it.

“hey,” topper says, like he’s trying to be nice. “cool bag.”

“uh, thanks,” you manage, your voice barely audible over the thudding of your pulse.

you blink again, unsure of how to react. your friends, meanwhile, are unusually silent, their eyes darting between you and rafe like they’re watching a movie unfold.

he pulls open the locker door and starts swapping out books, completely unfazed by the small audience. his focus shifts briefly back to you. “sorry about that. didn’t mean to interrupt.”

interrupt? like he’d done something wrong. you shake your head quickly. “no, it’s fine. i didn’t realize… um, this was yours.”

he chuckles softly, the sound doing something traitorous to your heart. “yeah, no worries.”

and then, just like that, he closes the locker, flashes you a small smile, and walks off with his friends in tow.

your friends erupt as soon as he’s out of earshot.

“oh my gosh,” one of them says, practically bouncing on her toes. “did that really just happen?”

you feel your face heating up, still staring at where he disappeared down the hall. “i… don’t know.”

but as you glance back at the locker—the one you’d been leaning on—you notice something slipped between the vents. something folded. something small and white.

your heart races as you pull it out, unfolding the paper.

“ you can lean on my locker anytime. :) ”

#lizzieswrites𝜗𝜚 #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe outer banks #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey

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calicocita · 2 days ago

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SUKUNA RYOMEN: ❝ NOT JEALOUS. ❞

sukuna couldn't help the primal urge that overtook him every time he noticed another man looking at you.

no, looking wasn't the right word, eye fucking you, his perfect beautiful wife, right in front of him.

it happened more times than he could keep track of. at the mall when you dragged him along with you to run your little errands. at your job when he'd go to drop you off or pick you up. even at his job, he'd be forced to witness his own colleagues gawking at you with their jaws on the floor whenever you dropped by to see him at his office.

as if all of that wasn't enough to drive him feral, you were just completely oblivious to it. of course.

maybe that's why you didn't notice what he was doing at first. since you two started dating, ryomen would always touch you in public. like a lot.

you didn't suspect anything when he grabbed you by the waist wherever you went. or when he started holding your neck when you waited in lines, kissing your jaw and that soft spot behind your ear, which always made you giggle. or even when he kissed you so deeply and for so long—in the middle of the street in broad daylight—you had to take a moment to catch your breath.

it wasn't until things escalated that you started to wonder if there might be something behind his behavior.

it was at his office's christmas party, while he was making speech in front of all his colleagues about something you couldn't pay attention to, because while he rose one glass to the public with one hand, he simply slid his other hand down your back, squeezing your ass for everyone to see.

to say that you were pissed at him was an understatement.

you waited until you two got home to scream at his face about how incredibly inappropriate he had behaved.

"as if you didn't like it." sukuna teased, getting as close to you as you would allow him. "what? you want me to just stand there while those little shits eye fuck my wife in front of me?!"

"no one was eye fucking me, ryo—"

"c'mon, baby, be fucking for real with me, now." you let him get closer now, his large hands enveloping your waist. "you can't be that innocent." you tried looking away from him, but he grabbed you by your neck forcing you to face him. "do you really think there was even one man at that party who wasn't looking at you?"

"you're jealous?" you scoffed at him, and you immediately felt his grip tighten around your neck, making you involuntarily squirm under his touch.

"i am not jealous." sukuna snarled, tilting his head to the side, with a predatory smile that didn't reach his eyes. "what i am is fucking pissed at all those fuckers lusting after my wife."

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writingwordsgayly · 6 hours ago

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if you had told me when I leveled buildings I'd be living in a small village helping rebuild after a calamity I would have killed you, but once I opened my eyes I had to start fresh, no more fearful glances, just Jim behind the bar sliding my drinks to me while I shit talk the dart game going on to my left, they try to pull me into playing, but I'd rather keep competition out of my life, I've chosen the slow life and I will be sticking with it, besides, I'd hate to bruise there egos, because my biggest trick was throwing knives once upon a time. the bell jingles as a group walks in the sound of their laughter fills the air, I glance up, expecting one of the other builders to join me, but my blood runs cold as see him, the one who foiled so many plans, the one who believes me to be dead, he had no part in my retirement, in fact I had already taken him down for my monologue when it all changed, trailing behind him is his party, the warlock sees me first and does her best to draw attention from my side of the bar, she witnessed my shift, played a part of it even, I stand up to shuffle out the back when the party is drawn into the warlocks story, but the dart players can't take a hint and get louder thinking I'll be joining them, I dodge tables as I run for the door, but I hear many foot steps following me, I do not look back, Jim calls out that I better pay my tab later and I throw a few coins over my shoulder, just incase in unable to pay once they catch me.

fresh night air hits my face but I dare not stop, the sounds of the heroes follow me as I run where none in the town will overhear what's to come, I dodge a few crossbow bolts, I bless the empty roads as I make it home, still faster then the team that swore to end me. I turn at my door, ready to accept what is to come, the warlock is first, looking terrified, you see we had the same patron, that is what shifted my perspective, I notice her emblem first, the foe of that patron, gorturth who had offered me freedom of what my patron had twisted me to become, he had manufactured my life to for his narrative, to be the God of a champion, gorturth offered me wisdom,and a quiet place to think, and reflect on what would follow the truth, I see the warlock paladin also turned to her.she smiles slightly seeing my symbol of the same god once again, her friends gather in the clearing, weapons drawn and spells ready, I hold empty hands to the sky, accepting my karma, but a loud shout echos around us, the woodcutter stands in front of me axe in hand

"why are heros menacing a charity worker?" he starts,calmly he was the first to meet the new me, he saw the scars and fear, the brokenness of a fractured truth. the heroes start talking over each other, but he points at the paladin and they quiet down.

"I reckon you have a good head about you" she starts stuttering as she tries to figure out how to explain our mutual betrayal.

"hoath manufactured him into being a villain, he shaped him to be as he was, I was never a true paladin just a misguided warlock..." she quiets down, looking at unimpressed faces. "he saved you!" she points at the head hero, telling a truth I never would have, he pulls the arrow back, aiming it straight at my heart.

"how dare you mind control susan you fiend! I bet you have this whole town under your control. you will never change, once a villain always a villain" he shouts, the party goes quiet as he looses the arrow at me, ignoring the civilian standing in front of me, luckily always quicker then the hero's I push him out of the way, the arrow meets its mark, in my shoulder, never one to go for a kill shot, the cleric is the next to speak

"stop! he would have never tried to protect someone, will you just listen you? he can't escape and he's not fighting back!"

I swallow and begin to speak, the truths tumbel out, the woodcutter takes my hand halfway through,to stabilize me as I speak until I am hoarse, never one for many words, the shortest monologues imaginable is how I worked, I tell them of being abandoned and taught how to to kill, rewarded for it, and how we realized on that night it was all a gods plot, incentive to build fancier temples.

the party stands quiet, as do we all, no clue what follows the truth, the cleric walks towards me slowly, my husband goes to stand in front of me again but he understands these are my consequences to face, the cleric meets my eyes, her eyes are searching, trying to find my hidden motive, see my eyes darting to the clue that will give her the edge, but her eyes soften after a minute, glancing between me an my love, he knows the truth, it's one of the first things I shared once I Decided my new start would be here. she begins to pull the arrow out of my shoulder, and heals it with her magic, my husband invites them in, it seems his secret motive is to gush about my kind Deeds to embarrass me.

You, the villain, faked your death and started over years ago. But you never expected the hero to stumble into your new favorite bar, laughing with their friends.

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chosove · 2 days ago

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18+ mdni | hockey player toru

an. *GUNSHOTS* *EXPLOSIONS* *CUMSHOTS* HEAVYYY inspo from this one iwaoi ff i read on ao3 in 2021. shit was so good its still in my head, if anyone knows the name lmk so i can cred properly! they did it better yall

pairing: NHL satoru gojo x interviewer f!reader

this was the interview of your career. the one that would take you from a nobody to the columnist you’ve always wanted to be. of course you were grateful, who wouldn’t be ecstatic to speak to gojo “the strongest” satoru, Jujutsu Slapshots newest star. from his innate talent to unreal looks, it’s no wonder gojo satoru was everyone’s recent obsession, including yours. this was all that was running through your mind as you stared at the tall man sitting in front of you, his lanky legs stretching out before moving to tap your foot with his, trying to get your attention.

“as much as i love when pretty girls stare at me, we should probably start with the questions right?”

finally hearing his voice broke you out of your trance, red blossoming on your cheeks when you realized just how long you were staring at him. “r-right! sorry, um” you flipped through your notebook, scrambling to find something- anything from the hundreds of questions you had for him. opening up a random page, you began reading without processing any of the words. “gojo, a lot of your fans praise your skills on the rink, but are curious about what you’re like outside the game. do you keep up your fierce persona, or is that reserved for your opponents?”

your words tumbled out a mile a minute, mouth slightly gaping when you finally looked up at the man you were interviewing, only to find him already staring at you, trademark charming smile plastered on his face. “that’s a good question…” he began, hand gripping his chin as he pretended to think deeply. “honestly im just a regular guy. i like sweet treats and don’t like doing anything on days off. i’m only ‘fierce’ as you would say when im talking to a girl for example.”

your hands were jotting down his words rapidly, the sly confession of his only registering after a few seconds. “o-oh! and um…what would you say is the type of girl you go after?”

he quirked a brow at this, head tilted to the side as he looked at you with those intense ocean eyes. “is this a question for on-the-rink gojo satoru or boring, everyday ‘toru?”

you giggled at his phrasing, wondering how to proceed. if it was any other girl they’d jump at this opening to lay it on thick (and you were tempted), but just to test the waters you decided to take it easy. “is it okay if i say both?”

gojo nodded, never breaking eye contact with you even when you looked away, unable to hold his strong stare. “well, the star of Jujutsu Slapshots would say anyone who can balance me out but still match my energy. i want someone to ground me but keep up with me if we’re at a carnival, y’know?”

you nodded, intently following his statement and subconsciously comparing yourself to each of his requirements. “regular me though, would say pretty girls like you who have my jersey number on their water bottle have me wrapped around their finger.”

your head shot up at the rest of his statement, finally maintaining eye contact for more than a few seconds. holy shit, was this your chance? what if he was just being polite and you were about to ruin the whole vibe…worth a shot though, right?

“i-is that so? ‘cause for girls like me, our ideal type is a hockey player named gojo satoru”

he chuckled at your response, shaking his head before standing up and moving towards you. “looks like we’re both in luck then. why dont we take a break now? all this talking has me really thirsty.”

looking up at him like this made you realize maybe you were in over your head, he was above you in every way including physically right now. maybe if you focused on it a bit longer, you’d find it in you to decline the offer to see his actual jersey that just so happened to be in his bedroom. maybe you’d say no to his offer of trying it on.

who were you kidding? you would never be strong enough to deny that. maybe that was the same reason you didnt stop him from lying you on his bed, slipping off your pants because ‘you’d look so much better in just my jersey’. and since you were at it, you could blame that same part of yourself for obediently spreading your legs when he asked- he was just so thirsty, who were you to deny him?

“o-oh fuck, gojo” you whined as he wrapped his lips around your clit, gently sucking before flicking his tongue against it.

“call me ‘toru pretty girl, think we’re past the formalities yeah?” he rasped, fingers coming up to pump in and out of you as he traced the letters of his name against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

he’d already pulled 2 orgasms out of you, swallowing down every drop of your essence while grinding his hips against his bed harshly, borderline fucking his mattress as he overstimulated you. “don’ have anything l-left ‘toru” your voice cried out, tears spilling from your eyes as your hips crashed against his face despite your protests.

pushing his fingers deeper, he curled them to reach all the spots you never could, repeating the movement until he found that spot that left you gasping for air. “thereeeee she is, pussy’s dripping all over me but ya have nothin’ left?” satoru laughed ay the irony of your words, relishing in the way he seemed to memorize sll the sensitive parts in your body this fast. “go ahead n’ cry pretty, but don’t lie to me”

your voice cried out a sound you thought was his name, but it was hard to be sure at this point. with how rapidly he was fingerfucking you while his mouth attacked your clit, you weren’t sure you’d ever produce a coherent word again. it didnt take long until you were once again on the edge of cumming, hands flying to his head as you desperately humped against his face. satoru didn’t complain though, he’d die happily if it was between your legs.

“c-cummin…’toru i c-can feel ngh”

‘that’s right princess, cream all over my fuckin’ fingers, know how bad your pussy needs this yeah?” his muffled voice spoke into your cunt, impoosibly apeeding up his ministrations until he watched your body convulse against him, a spray of clear liquid shooting out of your pussy.

riding out your orgasm against his tongue, you finally flopped back and attempted to catch your breath, eyes going wide when you felt his hands pull his jersey up to expose your tits.

“think ya can squirt again for me, but on my cock this time?”

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missadangel · 2 days ago

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The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x OC)

All Chapters List

XIX. Trouble (Smut!18+!MDNI)

Nulla sunt arcana quae tempus non indicat.

There are no secrets that time does not reveal.

J.R.

"Hanno?" You stammered slightly. It was strange to see him standing before you after such a long time and even more confusing to feel uncertain about how to respond. "Is that really you?"

He smiled, displaying his familiar smile.

"I think so."

That was exactly the sort of response he'd give.

"There he is!"

A man shouted from behind, momentarily distracting you. Hanno narrowed his eyes and swore.

"Get him! Quickly!”

Before you could even think, Hanno grabbed your arm and whispered in your ear, "I'll be at the popina (wine bar) near the gladiator school tomorrow." He took a quick look over your shoulder.

Geta looked alarmed when he saw the men running towards you. "Aurelia! Protect the princess!"

"I have to go now. I'll wait for you there, Aya."

You opened your mouth, but you couldn't say anything; you just watched him running down the street, getting away. The men stormed past you and ran after him, while Geta and the guards came to your side in a hurry.

"My lady! Are you alright?"

Geta grabbed your shoulders. "Did he do something to you?"

You shook your head.

At that moment, the sound of horses neighing echoed around.

"General!" one of the guards called out, looking backwards.

You both looked over there.

Marcus jumped off his horse, eyes narrowed, which made you nervous. He was looking at Geta's hands on your shoulders as he walked quickly towards you, so Geta swiftly removed his hands from your shoulders.

"Acacius, you are very intuitive."

But he did not look at him, his eyes fixed on yours. You smiled at him, though it was weak.

"My lady, I was not aware of your intention to visit here." His voice was filled with curiosity. He turned his eyes to Geta.

"I have asked her to accompany me here."

You were about to answer yourself when the men who had just chased after Hanno turned around with him, grabbing both arms. Geta stopped them with a raised hand.

They bowed to him.

"Who is this man? How dare you touch the princess? Speak!"

You looked at Geta, getting mad at him for mentioning 'touching thing' in front of Marcus. Just as you expected, he clenched his jaw, tensing up.

“I said speak!”

Hanno didn't answer, he just glared at him menacingly, which made them even more tense.

"Emperor Geta asked you a question!" Marcus snarled.

"He escaped from the gladiator school, Your Majesty. We've been looking all over for him." One of them replied.

"He's from the colonies, your highness. He only speaks his native language." The other one explained.

Your eyes widened as Marcus gripped the handle of his sword.

"He meant no harm," you said, your voice cracking.

"Gladiator?" Geta tilted his head and studied his face. He then looked at them and yelled. "How could you let him escape and roam free on the streets? You useless bastards!"

Hanno looked at Marcus in a slightly odd way; there was a clear sense of tension between them.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" Geta gestured with his hands. "Get him out of here now!"

You placed both hands on Marcus' as he gripped his sword. "I'm alright," you reassured him.

Your touch had the usual calming effect on him. But his expression didn't soften until the men pushed Hanno into the prisoner's carriage. Hanno gazed at you from within the cage as you watched his departure, and you struggled to keep a straight face while trying to suppress your feelings. Marcus looked at you, examining your face. "Are you certain you're alright?" he asked, knowing you well enough to read your facial expressions correctly.

You smiled and nodded. "I am, really. But I thought you were in the barracks," you said, glancing at Octavius behind him.

"I was..." Marcus said then turned his gaze to Geta. "There is an urgent matter. I need to take you to Palatine Hill."

Geta narrowed his eyes. "Is it about that bastard cousin of mine?”

Marcus glanced at the children gathered around you, and the people looking at you with curious eyes. "I think you'd better see for yourself when you get there. Shall we?"

"I simply hope that one day will pass without incident! Just one!" Geta grumbled as he walked with the guards to the carriage.

Marcus smirked then he turned towards you. "I believe you would like to come with us, my lady."

It wasn't a question or a request, but the way he was acting made you curious.

"I'd like to come with you, General, if that's alright. It's been over a month since I paid my respects to my father anyway."

"As you wish, my princess.” He was usually a bit hesitant about you going there, but not today, apparently. He helped you onto the carriage and winked at you before walking over to his own horse and getting on.

"General Acacius. Commander Darius. What is the meaning of this? Tell me what's happening here at once!”

You were as bewildered as Geta as you took in the scene before you on Palatine Hill. Nerissa, the slave girl you thought was dead, was alive—and she had a baby with her.

"Your cousin Elagabalus was holding this girl captive, Your Majesty," Darius explained. "My men found her and brought her here."

Geta's eyes widened in surprise. "Why would he do that?" he asked loudly.

You sat down next to Nerissa, who looked frightened. Embracing her, you felt her begin to cry. The baby was crying too; it seemed he had been born only a few weeks after your own. As a mother yourself, you could tell that the baby was hungry. “Why don’t you gentlemen talk outside?”

All three of them looked at you and nodded, except Geta, who frowned instead of nodding.and then all left. The girl then explained to you everything that had happened to her while she was breastfeeding the baby. After Flavius and his men had attacked all the slaves and wounded her, the other guards, the ones under Macrinus captured her. And after Macrinus was executed, they cooperated with the men of Leptis Magna and handed her over to them. And she said that she was already close to labour when Elagabalus found her. Poor girl was so exhausted and weak that she thought she was going to lose the baby. Compared to your chubby Marcius, the baby looked thin, he was two weeks to pass his first month and you couldn't hide that you were a little worried about him. In fact, Nerissa was a noble Greek, not a slave, she had told you her story before. Maybe that's why she was kidnapped. If Macrinus cared about this girl there must be certain reason of her importance. Suddenly the baby started crying again, you checked her breast, she must be low on milk.

"Give him to me," you said, holding out your hands.

"But, my lady…”

"My breast milk is enough for both my Marcius and your baby," you said with a smile.

She returned your smile and placed her baby in your arms. Unlike your chubby Marcius, this baby had silky golden blonde hair on top of his head, just like his father. She thanked you and prayed for you as the baby suckled at your breast. Just as you were about to hand the baby back to her, Julia burst into the room.

“What do you think you're doing?”

You glared at her and handed the baby to her mother, who flinched in fright. You stood up and approached Julia, not liking the way she looked at the girl.

"You get the hell out of here right now and take the child with you!"

She sat up but you stopped her by raising your hand.

"Why would she? After all, she gave birth to a boy, it's Geta's."

"So? The child can't inherit the throne unless Geta weds her."

"I am aware. You must free the girl first, then wed them."

"She's a slave! How dare you think she's worthy of our emperor?"

'You know your son's interest in her. She's a concubina, not an ordinary slave."

"Yet she's not his wife! The Senate wouldn't accept the child as an heir since it wasn't born from legal marriage.”

“That is why I’m saying you must wed them. She’s a captive of war, forced into slavery. Her family is noble, isn't it, Nerissa?"

The girl nodded, looking at her hesitantly. "Yes, my Empress. If we were to send word to my family in Athens, I'm sure they would be able to send you an answer.”

Julia put her hands on her waist, thinking. "You dumb girl. Why didn't you tell me all this time?"

Her cheeks flushed and she bowed her head. "Because I loved Emperor Geta with all my heart. He didn't want me to tell anyone about it, not even his brother Emperor Caracalla."

"All those fights they had... It wasn't just to share your cunt huh?"

"Lady Domna!" You barked.

She approached her, ignoring your glare. "Even if I can convince the Senate, I can't convince Geta. He's really determined not to get married." She looked at you out of the corner of her eye.

"I'll talk to him." You said without looking at her. Then you turned and looked at Nerissa. "Don't concern yourself. No one can get you thrown out of this palace. I'll make sure your family is notified."

"I'll take care of that, you try to convince Geta if you can. But I wonder one thing Aurelia. What's in it for you? What's going on inside that beautiful head of yours I really wonder?’

"Don't confuse me with yourself, Lady Domna. Some favors are given without expecting anything in return.."

She laughed hysterically. "You may deceive others with your gentle and innocent face, but not me. Helping all those poor people and winning the love of the people with this way was a good move. I would never have thought of doing such a sneaky thing. Well done."

"You wouldn't understand even if I told you about it, so I won't tire myself out."

You turned your back on her, leaving the room.

As you left Geta's chambers and walked towards the great hall, you noticed Octavius and the other Praetorians standing outside. You could hear Geta's loud voice coming from inside, so you went to talk to Octavius before entering. "I spoke with Decima," you said.

He looked up at you, a bit surprised.

"I will make sure to mention it to the general, so you can feel assured."

"Thank you, my lady. I really appreciate it. But if it's all right with you, I would like to speak with him myself first."

"Of course, Octavius," you replied with a warm smile.

He walked you to the door and the guards opened it for you.

Marcus and Darius looked at you. Geta however, his back was turned, resting his hands on the table. He then turned his head when he heard your footsteps.

"Commander Darius," you said, looking at him. "Would you please give us some privacy?"

"Yes, my lady," he replied, motioning for the other guards to step outside.

Geta poured himself a glass of wine and settled into the lectus behind the long golden-colored curtain.

Marcus grabbed your arm, "Perhaps it’s best if we don’t get involved."

You reassured him by touching his hand. "I just need to speak with him."

He let out a sigh, "I’ll be right here."

You smiled at him, then turned around and walked towards Geta. As you pushed the curtain aside with your hand, you noticed that he had already finished his glass. He turned it upside down and shook it. Quickly, you picked up the decanter from the table and poured more wine into his glass.

“He looks just like you, you know,” you said.

“Oh please!”

“What's the matter with you? Aren't you happy to see her again?”

“I'll die of happiness!” he replied sarcastically. You sat next to him. “You must marry her so the child can be your legal heir.”

He looked at you sternly, a look you had never seen before. “That's not how it works in Rome!”

“I know the truth about her,” you insisted.

“You know nothing, Aurelia!” he barked, then stood up angrily.

Marcus watched the two of you from a distance, clearly feeling nervous, but he waited patiently.

"We need to let her family know about all this. If you wed her quickly-"

"She does not have a family." He interjected emphatically, taking a moment to inhale deeply. "Caracalla had all of them executed."

"What did you just say?" you wailed.

Marcus stepped towards you as soon as he heard your loud voice. Still unable to believe what you had just heard, you didn’t notice him until he touched your back.

“It was before the revolt in Egypt. Her family came to Rome; they wanted to take her because she was the sister of their princess. That was one of the reasons the Greeks supported the revolt, Acacius.”

You looked at Marcus. It might sound a bit strange, but that rebellion actually brought you to him in a really unique way. After a moment of silence, you feel more determined to convince him.

“She must have had family left behind. You need to inform them about the situation. If you marry, it could be possible to establish peace between them and Rome, right? Additionally, if you appoint your son as your legal heir, you will regain their trust and take a step towards improving relations too.”

He folded his arms, “Marrying a Greek? I don’t think the Senate would approve of that.”

‘"Well, you must convince them, right?"

“I shall undertake that responsibility!" Julia's voice echoed through the great hall, filled with joy. "You must wed her, my son."

Geta looked at both you and Julia. "You two agree on that, huh? I’ll be damned." He then turned to Marcus. “What is your perspective, Acacius?”

"I am not a politician, Emperor Geta. However, it is undeniably advantageous for us that the Greeks refrain from participating in any future rebellions against Rome. So I agree with my wife, Lady Aurelia.”

You respected him; despite his modest denial of being a politician, he displayed considerable wisdom.

"I think I owe her that much," Geta murmured.

"We must start preparing for the wedding right away," Julia said with a smile. "But first, I need to invite the wives of the senators and discuss everything with them. They might be upset with me about this." Suddenly, her expression changed as she looked at you. "Aurelia, perhaps they'll be more easily persuaded if you join me. They respect you."

"Being in the same room with those women again? Not for me, Lady Domna," you replied. Julia was about to protest, but Marcus's stern gaze seemed to silence her.

"Then we ask for your permission to take our leave," Marcus said.

Geta nodded. "You may leave."

Marcus extended his arm, and you accepted it as you both departed from the hall. As you made your way out of the courtyard toward his horse, Marcus leaned in, whispering; “Aurelia, what is your intention?”

You met his gaze and lightly touched his face. “I am seeking to protect our son.”

He looked confused as he tried to understand your meaning. You took his hand. “Let us return home to continue our discussion; I miss our son deeply.”

He responded with a smile, gently kissing your hand. “So do I.”

“What you mentioned earlier...” Marcus said as he poured wine into his goblet. “I am curious about what you meant by protecting our son.” Marcius, seemed full, releasing your breast. He made the most beautiful sounds that filled the room with warmth and then drifted off to sleep peacefully.

“I meant to prevent him from being seen as the heir to the throne.” You stood up and gently put Marcius on the small mattress next to your bed. He seemed to fall into a peaceful sleep; at least, you hoped so. Marcus handed you one of the glasses and then moved over to watch him sleep. You took a sip from the glass and began to remove the fancy hairpins from your hair.

"You're afraid he might become emperor..." he said, covering him with the small blanket. "More than anything," you replied as you placed the hairpins into the box. "The weight of such responsibility is immense, Marcus. There will always be those who seek the throne and those who would want to harm him and manipulate him. How can I live with this fear? How can we live?" When you turned your head to look at him, you found him gazing back at you. He stood up and stepped toward you.

"I will be so relieved if Geta gets married as soon as possible," you said, yawning involuntarily. It had been a long and tiring day, first because of Hanno and then Geta.

Marcus's big hand reached behind you, grabbing your hair and sweeping it over your shoulder, leaving your neck exposed. Your tiredness instantly faded, replaced by something else entirely.

"I can't disagree with that." You swallowed as his warm breath licked your neck. And you gasped as his lips found your jugular. You closed your eyes, surrendering yourself to the sanctity of his touch. He wrapped his arms around you, under your arms, and pressed himself against you. One hand slid down, under the fabric of your tunic, touching your folds. You moaned quietly as he stroked your clit with his thick fingers. "Are you ready to be mine, princess?" His tone was so seductive that you would be damned if you did refuse him.

"I am-mmph..."

Your delighted moan was muffled as he mashed his mouth against yours, aggressive and lustful. You shuddered and wrapped your arms around his neck without missing a beat, mewling submissively even as his hands left your clit and moved to your hips instead, grabbing them firmly and sending jolts of excitement up your stomach. He then lifted you up making you laugh unashamedly as his hands squeezing your butt-cheeks beneath fabric even as your lips stayed connected. His tongue prodded your lips and you parted them instantly, letting out a horny whine as it invaded your mouth and dominated yours with embarrassing ease. As if to comply with that he held your ass more firmly, that being the only warning you got before he roughly laid you down on the bed. The little one's cooing made you break the kiss. But when you looked at him he seemed happy in his sleep. You whispered to him as Marcus' impatient fingers quickly grasped the hem of your tunic. “I love this tunic of mine, so please be gentle.”

“With your tunic maybe, but not with you.” He said grinning, sending a shiver of pleasure down your spine. He leaned down, his lips grazed down your collarbone, breath hot against it, and a moan rolled off of your tongue as he kissed the top of your breast and then sucked upon it harshly. You found yourself afraid that might be hurt but it didn’t.

The thought was purged from your mind though as he swiftly snatching your other nipple up in his mouth. You gasped, your hand ending up in his curly hair and tugging it; utterly melting as you felt his tongue swirl around repeatedly before he gave it a wet-sounding suck, tugging it out until your nipple sprung from his lips and left your breast jiggling a little. His face placed between your breasts a mere second later, growling lustfully as he rubs them and tickled you with his hot breaths. He didn't stay there for long. Planting another few quick kisses upon your flesh then with a rush of eagerness, he undressed himself, his movements fast, impatient. Simply making you aroused more.

Just like he said before, he wasn't gentle when he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you towards him. He had just placed your legs over his shoulders when a soft cooing stopped him. You both looked at each other, remembering that there were three of you in the room now.

“How about we skip this part for now?”

Marcus smiled and kissed your knee. “I'll make it up to you, I promise.”

He leaned down and kissed you; it was passionate, tender, eager, and even a little rushed.

But then, however, there was his erection resting against your stomach, precum dripping onto your flesh. You ran one hand through the precum and along the length. He gasped at the touch, pulling away from the kiss. You met his eyes as you brought him to your entrance. He grinned, baring his teeth.

“Eager I see,” he said in a heated whisper.

With a playful grin, you pressed your finger to his lips and whispered, "Acta non verba, my love.”

Then, with a seductive lean back and spreading your legs, invited him in. He had his need pushed against your clit, along the sensitive skin, through your wetness. You cooed, writhing for him to feel inside you. He gave you one more kiss before shifting slightly to grab the backs of your knees and spread your legs wider than you had them. He pulled out a few inches and pushes back in, easing you into his thrusts before he starts picking up and every time he thrust into you, stretching you, made you crave more and more. Sweat dripping down your brow as he thrust deeper, lifting you by your knees and bending your legs towards your torso. In this position where you couldn’t move very much, he took control, finding sweetest spot with his aching need. You couldn’t stop moaning and mewling, crying out his name as he goes faster.

When your moans became louder, his big hand covered your mouth, silencing you. "Sssh, you'll wake him up, love," he whispered, finding your ear through your hair. "And I don't want our fun to end just yet." You nodded and continued to moan into his palm. He kept covering your mouth with his hand as he carried on thrusting, each one deeper than the last. He was sweating from his brow and the sweat was dripping onto your chest. He wiped the sweat with the back of his hand and pushed his hair back, but it was no avail; it swayed downwards as he leaned down to give you a messy kiss.Then you two drew back, inhaled a breath, and reconnected. Eventually he removed his hand from your mouth, he just wanted to bring you both to the climax, he didn't care about anything else at this point. Effortlessly, he threw your legs over his shoulders and leans forward, bracing his hands on either side of your shoulders and taking you just right. He then reached around to get his fingers on your clit, rubbing relentlessly.

“Marcus” you cried, “Marcus please—”

You can barely heard him over the wet-sound of slamming against your body. “That’s right, my love. Say my name. Come for me.”

All the stimulation gets to you and you obey. You gush on his length to the point where he has to pull out and watch as you make a complete mess of the bed. The rest of your body trembling, hips thrusting on their own, and fingers clawing at sheets. You scream at this point and he has to cover your mouth again, but this time not with his hand, but with his mouth. You moan and whimper into his mouth, hoping that you have not woken the little one up.

"Look at that," he groaned, rubbing your throbbing cunt and you clenched. "Well done, my princess. You’re a good girl.”

Desperate for his need and his orgasm, you pressed your heels against his back. "Inside. Inside me, Marcus, please."

Saying your name, he suddenly plunged back in. You responded with another scream, arching your back and taking every hard thrust. His breath faltered and his moans grew louder. And... You'd just had a second orgasm, but if he kept it up, you'd have a third.

“Wish me to fill this beautiful cunt of yours up…hmm?”

“Yes,” you said between his thrusts, “Yes, my love, fill me in, Gods!”

“I will gladly grant your wish…” He snarled.

Marcus' at his loudest when he came inside you, giving you everything you want and more. As he pushed himself into you, you come again. This time there is no concern or intention to be careful not to make a loud noise. You tightened around him with every thrust, moaning with him and accepting the messy kiss he giving you. It was hard to kiss back when your breath is stolen, when every emotion hits all your nerves and you can’t think straight. He didn’t move once he gives you his last drop. A moment passes where the two of you simply catch your breath. And eventually, as a result of all this noise, the final expected happened and little Marcius began to cry.

You both looked at him, panting, and then back at each other, grinning triumphantly and mischiveously. When you feel the soreness hit, you wiggled your legs and Marcus got the hint. He carefully placed your legs back on the bed. You whimpered as he pulled out, and you could feel the mix of fluid drip out of your cunt. When Marcius started crying louder, you tried to sat up, but your most sensitive parts were throbbing a bit and your legs felt numb.

“Marcus, will you give him to me? I can’t feel my legs.”

He kissed your cheek. “Forgive me. Couldn’t help myself.”

You smiled. “Couldn’t help myself, either.”

He gave you a kiss before getting out of bed and you leaned against the headboard while you watched him tenderly take Marcius in his arms and kiss his head, caressing his little nose with his own. It was something you never got tired of watching, it was so sacred, so beautiful. Before Marcus placed him in your arms, he put a pillow behind your back and kissed the top of your head as you smiled up at him. He was rough when he made love to you, but he always blew your mind with his incredible gentleness and tenderness afterwards.

After having breakfast together in the room, you and Marcus visited the stables. You had become quite skilled at grooming lately, and it was incredibly peaceful. However, there was another reason for your visit. While you were absent-mindedly combing Unio's mane, thinking about what Hanno had said. You were having second thoughts about going to the place he mentioned. Would he have to escape again to get there? How had he ended up in Rome? How did he become a gladiator? You were startled by Marcus' touch on your waist. Unio let out a neigh as you accidentally tugged on her mane. To soothe her, you gently touched her nose and gave her a kiss.

"I see you really enjoy that, my lady," Marcus said with a warm smile.

You returned his smile. "I do. It has such a calming effect." You tapped the brush to remove the hair from its bristles.

Marcus let out a light sigh. "Well, I must admit that what I'm about to ask you to do might not be as calming." You raised your eyebrows in curiosity and narrowed your eyes when you spotted the wooden sword in his hand. "But this... it's made of wood..."

"I wouldn't hand you a sharp sword for your first lesson," he said firmly.

You placed the brush in the basket and picked up the sword, clutched it with both hands, examining. It was heavier than it looked. "It feels a bit like a toy," you murmured.

He touched yours with his wooden sword. "Rule number one: Whatever weapon you wield, you must forge an unbreakable bond with it; treat it as part of your arm.”

Your caring husband, Marcus, had quickly transformed into your stern General, Acacius.

"Yes, General," you muttered.

He smirked. "If you master this, you can begin using a real steel sword.” he encouraged you. "Remember, finding balance is essential in your early lessons."

"Balance?"

He nodded. "It's like dancing—using the right steps. Come with me; I'll show you what I mean." He took your hand and led you out of the stables, where he had taught you how to use a knife.

"Aren't you supposed to be on duty today?" you asked.

"I am, but I have time before I take my leave. Come."

When you reached the wide open space, Marcus took the wooden sword from your hand and stood in front of you.

"First, you must improve your agility. Catch it, princess!"

He tossed one of the swords towards you, but you weren't able to catch it, so it fell to the ground. “Whoa!” You bent down to pick it up. “Why did you... "It's not as if I'm planning to attack my enemy by throwing it."

He narrowed his eyes. “I see you’re feeling confident. Alright, what are you going to do with it? How will you use it? Tell me.”

"I should just stick the pointy end into my enemy, right?"

He grinned smugly. “Do you really think it’s that simple, my lady?”

You shrugged. “It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

He opened his arms. “Very well then, strike me.”

With both hands, you gripped the sword tightly. Suddenly, you realized it wasn't as easy as you had thought, but you were determined not to embarrass yourself in front of him. Marcus struggled to hold back his laughter at the expression on your face. Ignoring him, you raised the sword and lunged toward him. As you initiated your attack, he effortlessly pushed your sword away with a flick of his hand, barely moving his arm. You staggered backward, nearly dropping the sword.

"It’s not as easy as it seems, is it? That’s why I’m telling you to focus on your balance first. In time, you’ll understand what I mean, and when I throw it to you, it will be much easier to catch. Now, think of it as a real sword and show me how you hold it. Try again." This seemed simple, but it quickly became clear from the look on his face that I was doing something wrong. “Now you are standing wrong. Turn your body side-face, yes.”

He came over and put one hand on your waist and the other under your chin. "Just, so, yes." Then he looked at your feet. "Spread your legs."

"I can do that," you said, grinning widely, thinking about things you did in your bedroom, like how he spreads your legs in there.

Be ready to be mine...

He kissed your cheeks, where they had blushed, and your naughty thoughts were replaced by a desire.

"Focus, princess."

"Apologies. I was thinking about something..." You batted your eyelashes.

He brought his face closer to yours. "Are you trying to get away from your training by seducing me, hm?"

"Maybe I am." You giggled.

"Well, you succeeded."

He leaned in and kissed you on the lips.You let go of the sword and put your arms around his neck, and the moment you touched his hair, the inevitable thing happened again – he lost it! He wrapped his arms around your waist, deepening the kiss. You let his tongue enter your mouth, and everything else in the place and the reason you were there flew away, there was only him and your warm breath through your nostrils, caressing each other's cheeks. Your hearts were beating rapidly with excitement. When you heard footsteps approaching, your lips suddenly stopped moving, breaking the kiss. Pulling himself back with some difficulty, he smiled at you, licked his lips, then turned his head in that direction.But you didn't, instead, you ran your eyes over his side view, admiring his gorgeous face.

"General!"It was Cato's voice.You pulled your hands away, but Marcus' hands were still around your waist.

"Cato, is something wrong?”

"I've been informed the Council is meeting today, sir. And Emperor Geta said he'd like to see you there during the session." Then he looked at you. "You too, my lady."

You frowned.

"Thank you Cato, get the carriage ready then."

"There's no need," you said firmly. "I’d better not attend."

Marcus lifted his eyebrows. "Do you have other plans, my lady?"

You looked away. "It’s an official council meeting. I don’t think there’s any need to disturb the Senate members with the presence of a woman. Besides, I planned to visit my cousin Paulina today."

For some reason, your tone sounded so convincing that it even surprised you.

"Is that so? You didn't mention that," Marcus said.

"I was going to..." you lied, feeling a wave of self-hatred wash over you.

Marcus's eyes weren't skeptical as they roamed over your face. "Well, I think it's better that you're there than at the council."

"I agree. Come, let me help you dress appropriately," you replied, grabbing his arm. He smiled, allowing you to pull him inside.

After Marcus left the villa with Cato, you made your decision to meet Hanno. You nursed Marcius and handed him over to Norell, then went up to your chambers to get dressed. It was almost noon by this time. Everyone in the villa believed you were going to visit your cousin, including Decima, who accompanied you in the carriage. However, when the carriage was halfway to its destination, you ordered the driver to take you through the streets of Rome instead. You put on your cloak, ignoring Decima, who looked at you in astonishment.

“I thought we were going to your aunt Antonia’s house?”

“No, we’re not.”

She opened her eyes wide. “Are we going to stalk the general again?”

You glared at her. “No, of course not.”

“Then where are we going?”

You tied the laces of your cloak and replied, “Decima, trust me and don’t ask questions. I promise I’ll tell you everything later. Stop the carriage!”

The coachman obeyed your command and halted the carriage on the east side of the Colosseum. The gladiator school was on its left, and the popina was at the corner of the street.

“There are no houses or shops here,” she muttered.

“I know,” you said, pulling the hood over your face and stepping out of the carriage. Decima stood up as well, but you stopped her.

“I’ll go alone.”

“But Aurelia—”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be safe. I won’t be long, and Decima, this is between us, alright?”

She nodded. “Fine, but please be careful.”

“I will be,” you replied with a smile and began walking into the crowd. You weren’t wearing much jewelry; the last thing you wanted was for someone to realize you were their princess.

The street was less crowded than you had expected. Many people were discussing today’s council meeting and moving at a brisk pace toward the Roman Forum. Perhaps most people had gathered there, which would work to your advantage. When a group of passersby glanced your way, you quickly turned your head.

“Did you hear that General Acacius is attending too?” one person said.

“Yes, I wonder if the princess will be there,” another replied.

“We’re going there to see her anyway,” one continued.

“I think she will definitely attend,” another added.

“I’ll finally get to see her up close,” someone else said.

You smiled to yourself. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled quietly.

After passing through a few more people, you looked around. You were now passing the gladiator school, and you shuddered as you remembered how you had last been imprisoned there. Then you thought of Hanno—how did he end up here? It was just one of a thousand questions you wanted to ask him. You quickened your pace, and when you saw the popina’s signboard, your heart began to race with anxiety.

The harmonious music, accompanied by the sounds of laughter and conversation from within, extended into the street, fostering an inviting atmosphere but not for everyone, apparently.

Please don't let anyone recognize me. Please don't let anyone recognize me.

You pushed open the double-leaf door. The people standing nearby turned their heads to see who was coming in, but they couldn't see your face and soon returned to their chat. One person glanced at you with curiosity but quickly looked away. Suddenly, the music stopped, and you froze, but it had nothing to do with your entrance—it was just a coincidence.

Soon, the music began again. You took a deep breath of relief and moved forward, scanning the tables one by one. You noticed a man in a black cloak sitting alone in the corner. You moved there and tilted your head to see his face, but first, you glanced around to ensure no one else was sitting alone. It must have been him. You leaned toward him and whispered, “Hanno?"

You were so startled when the man looked up at you that you jumped back. A bulky man with numerous scars on his face scrutinized you and then raised his eyebrows with a low curse. “Am I high already?” he asked himself.

“Oh, forgive me. I thought you were someone else,” you stammered.

He grinned widely, showing all his teeth. “I’ll be whoever you want me to be, beautiful.”

Just as you were about to turn away, his large hand grabbed your wrist. “Come on, sit down and have a drink with me—just one drink.” He pulled you toward the chair.

Was he drunk? At this time of day?

You struggled to free your arm, but you couldn’t even budge it. “Let go of my arm!”

“Come now, don’t be stubborn. A beauty like you doesn’t come along every day.”

“Look, I’m a married woman, and you wouldn’t even want to know who my husband is.”

He frowned.

“Let her go!”

You turned your head in the direction of the familiar voice. Hanno had pushed the man's arm away. “Damn it, Aldhard, didn’t I tell you not to drink after the opium?”

You crossed your arms. “So you two know each other?”

Hanno rolled his eyes. “Don’t ask.”

The man stood up and looked at both of you. “You little shit. You never told me you had such a beautiful friend. So that’s why you’re always running away, huh?”

“Go back and get some rest. You can’t go out in the arena tomorrow like this.”

The man huffed as he turned to walk away. “That’s why I’m drinking, you bastard.” He left, muttering curses in his native language that you had never heard before.

Hanno turned to you. “Forgive me for being late. But it’s hard to get out of there.”

You sat down in a chair and exhaled deeply. “Hanno, it’s strange to see you here after all this time. Especially as a gladiator.”

He settled into the chair where his friend had just been sitting. “It’s quite the story,” he said, raising his arm to catch the keeper’s attention. “I’m surprised you came, you know.”

“It wasn’t easy,” you replied.

“I guess you came secretly from your husband.” He smiled crookedly.

“I came secretly from everyone. You know why.”

"Yes, I was quite surprised to hear that. I can't believe you're a princess. I always knew you were special, but..."

A little later, a young man brought you a jug of wine and two glasses, along with a platter of chicken for two.

"The chicken here is really good. Come on, eat,” he said, spooning some onto his plate, opening his mouth wide, and starting to eat with appetite.

You reminisced about the meals you had shared together in the tavern back in Egypt.

“Forget about me and tell me about yourself,” you said as you dipped your spoon into the food. “How did you get to Rome? How did you become a gladiator, and where have you been all this time?” You brought the spoon to your mouth, not because you were hungry, but because the smell was enticing, and you wanted to taste it.

He didn’t look at you and continued to eat. “I was brought here by your husband.”

You nearly choked on your morsel, coughed, and sipped your wine. “What did you say?”

“As a prisoner of war.”

��Or did you fight alongside the Persian army against Rome?” Your voice was louder than you intended, causing nearby people to turn their heads. Hanno glared at them, and they quickly looked away.

“Hanno, what happened? Tell me everything.”

His blue eyes clouded, and his expression hardened. “Alright. That night…” He took a deep breath. “I mean, the night the rebels raided the Roman military camp. By the time I got there, they had taken all the Medici from the Valetudinarium.”

“Oh, right. Where were you that night?”

“I heard one of my friends was injured during the revolt, so I decided to go help him. When I entered the room to tell him I was leaving, Vicius mentioned that you were asleep. That turned out to be the last time I saw both you and him." He took a sip of his drink, looking gloomy. "The next day, Vicius' body was brought to the Valetudinarium along with the other Medicii. I personally took care of his funeral, all of his friends were deeply saddened. However, what was even more haunting was what they said. They claimed they saw you among the prisoners. They had killed him, and not only that, but they had also taken you as a prisoner. I was so angry that I ran to the harbor, but I couldn't catch up. The Roman ships had already sailed out to sea, just about to disappear over the horizon."

Your eyes filled with tears as you recalled that night.

"I apologize for not coming here sooner. My mother was sick, and I was occupied with her treatment, but I couldn’t save her. There were also many other patients to care for. Vicious was a skilled medicus; he was irreplaceable."

“Hanno, I'm sorry.”

“Aya, or Aurelia,” he said with a sad grin. “Why did you marry him? How did it happen?”

“Hanno, look…”

He interrupted, “After what happened to Vicius, all I could think about was coming here, finding you, and running away with you. I was certain you would be sold into slavery, and I couldn't sleep at night knowing you might be living a terrible life.”

“I wasn’t, actually. I love him, Hanno. He’s my life now. "We were planning to come here with Vicius, and now you know the specific reason why.”

“So, it turns out you and Vicius had a secret, huh?” He laughed. “All that time you were hiding in the Valetudinarium, trying hard to pass as a man, never going out in public, and his overprotectiveness toward you… I mean, it was obvious there was a reason, but I never expected you to be a Roman princess. I don't know what to say.”

“I found out when I came here, but how did you know I was married to the general?”

“Last week, I saw the two of you at the temple. People are always talking about you two. That day, they made us put on a little fighting demonstration at the Roman Forum. Honestly, I had a hard time recognizing you at first; you looked quite different from before.”

“I’m still the same person.”

“I doubt that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You're different; you've changed. Maybe your experiences have altered you, just like they have for me.”

“Why did you fight with the Roman army? You're not a soldier.”

“They needed a medicus and promised high payment. And you think I can't fight or something? Have you forgotten how many times I saved you from those filthy rats? They kept saying you were a scrawny young man and forced you to fight with them. Don’t you remember how I beat them up, girl?”

You laughed. “Yes, I remember.”

“Fighting against Roman soldiers seemed tempting to me. They said the rebels had joined forces with a small army in Syria organized by a Roman consul.”

“Macrinus?”

“No idea. I've never met him.”

“You can't. He's dead.”

“I bet your husband killed him, great Roman general.” He said mockingly.

You frowned and said, “Please don't talk about him like that. He's the bravest, most honorable man I know, and he's not as bad as you think. He’s also kind and understanding.”

“How touching. He wasn’t so innocent when he slaughtered hundreds on the battlefield, you know. He was like a beast.”

“It’s called war. What did you expect him to do? That’s what you did too—you fought and killed people, didn’t you? Besides, Vicius was killed by one of his soldiers, and he avenged him by killing that soldier in return.”

“But he took you prisoner—made you a slave.”

“He didn’t know who I was.”

Suddenly, he was distracted by the loud laughter of the women at the next table. You both turned your heads to look in that direction. Hanno reached towards you and pulled your hood more in front of your face.

“Don’t stare at them; we’ll get in trouble if they recognize you. And the ones sitting right behind us? They’re Spaniards. Believe me, they hate the Romans as much as I do. So whatever you do, don’t attract their attention.”

You didn't even want to ask why, but it was clear that the men and women were romantically involved, and the Spaniards seemed to be quite fierce characters. Suddenly, you realized that coming here might not have been such a good idea.

“Hanno, who bought you? If I talk to your master, maybe I can persuade him to set you free.”

He laughed. “I’m not a Roman, but I know that’s not how it works here. Tomorrow, I must fight in the Colosseum and win. That will bring me one step closer to my freedom.”

Your chest suddenly tightened. “But the Colosseum is too dangerous.”

“Are you worried about me?” he grinned. “Don’t be. I can take care of myself.”

“I’ll talk to my brother. I don’t know; there must be a way.”

He laughed hysterically. “Your brother? You mean the emperor? It’s not like he’s going to care about me. I don’t suppose you’ve heard the rumors about him.”

“He’s changed. He’s an emperor who cares about his people now.”

“Is he now?”

“Tell me his name. Who bought you?”

“Aya,” he growled.

“Tell me.”

“What will your husband say if you buy me?”

That was the real question. You sighed nervously.

“That’s what I thought.”

He raised his glass to his lips and drank it all.

Then he looked back over your shoulder. “Shit.”

“What the—”

“When I say so, we’ll run outside together, alright?”

“What? Why?”

“They realized I escaped. Again.”

"But why am I running? You're the one they're looking for."

"It's him! Stop right there!"

You stood up and looked over. It was the same guys from last time; they knew who you were. You tensed and took a step back, but suddenly you realized someone was touching you on your hips. In a fit of rage, you turned around and hurled his drink in his face.

"Do you think I'm a whore, you filthy bastard?"

As the man angrily wiped the wine from his face, you immediately regretted what you had done. When he stood up, the others did too. “Jódete, maldita perra (Fuck you, stupid whore)!”

“Watch your mouth, cabrón!” Hano yelled.

Your eyes and mouth widened when the men drew their swords, and you instinctively hid behind Hanno.

"I suppose you have a reason to run now," Hanno whispered to you.

One of the men who had come to take Hanno held up a hand to stop them.

"Return to your table now," he ordered.

“Do not tell me what to do, maricón!”

“What did you say?” He drew his sword.

“He said arsehole to you,” Hanno translated with a grin.

“Damn Spinards, I shall cut your tongue!”

Hanno seized the opportunity amidst the chaos and pushed him onto the other man, causing both of them to collapse to the floor. The impact knocked over a table, spilling drinks and food everywhere and creating quite a mess. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted dramatically, and everyone began to fight with one another. Hanno grabbed your arm and shouted, “Time to run!" He pulled you along as you both fled the scene.

When you got out into the street, you kept running faster, because the other men kept running after you.

“So you can speak spanish!” you shouted as you ran alongside him, your eyes scanning for the carriage.

“Only swear words!” he replied.

“Ugh! I hate you!”

“I’m not the one who spilled his drink all over his face!”

“You're the one swearing at them!”

The guys chasing after you were shouting something in spanish, and it was not hard to guess what they were saying.

“Aren’t you a gladiator? Can’t you fight them off?”

He laughed nervously. “I don’t think you realize how many there are.”

You looked back, and your eyes widened when you saw at least ten people.

“Where the hell did they come from?”

“I warned you about Spaniards! They are overprotective!”

“The carriage is just over there!” You said, pointing east of the Colosseum. “If we can get there-“

“No, not the carriage! They'll catch us before we get on!”

“What are we going to do?”

“I know a safe place; if I hide you there, I can escape them myself.”

When you looked back, they were still running insistently. Desperately, you searched for the carriage, realizing you had no choice but to follow Hanno. Fortunately, you soon reached the place he had mentioned. It was the barn of a house.

“The owner is old and deaf; he doesn’t come to the barn much,” Hanno said as he removed hay bales one by one to create a hiding spot for you. “Come, you’ll be safe here.”

“But for how long? What will you do?”

“I'm going to make them follow me down the road and I'm going to grab a sword from one of them and fight them. After I get them away from here, you run to your carriage, alright?”

You nodded. “Be careful.”

He smiled and looked back as the voices drew closer. "Hide well," he said before leaving the barn. You could hear his footsteps followed by those of his pursuers. You waited patiently until all the sounds faded away. Soon, the only noise was the gentle bleating of the lambs.

Standing up, you began to push the hay bales aside one by one. The smell was almost unbearable; if you were pregnant like before, you would have been violently sick. You brushed the straw out of your hair with your hands. Your legs ached from running, but you knew you had to reach the carriage no matter what.

You slowly stepped into the courtyard of the house, observing your surroundings. Fortunately, no one was in sight, except for the chickens, which, frightened by your presence, scattered away. The street was quiet, with just a few people who looked at you with curiosity, but you were too exhausted to care. After walking a bit further, you realized that you were very close to the street where the carriage was located, so you picked up your pace and walked there with relief.

Decima asked you questions along the way that you struggled to answer, and you responded as simply as possible. However, your real fear was what you would face when you got home—your clothes and everything else were a complete mess. You needed to get home before Marcus arrived. You couldn't help but worry about Hanno. Would he be able to fight those guys off? Would he be able to save himself? You had known him well since childhood, and you shared many memories together that were impossible to forget. No one could have predicted that things would turn out this way; it felt like a cruel twist of fate.

When you arrived at the villa, it was already evening. You and Decima got out of the carriage and walked into the courtyard. As soon as you stepped inside, you froze. Marcus was standing in the center, still wearing his formal white toga. He struggled to drape the shawl over his shoulder, as he didn't often wear this type of toga. However, the stern and confused expression on his face wasn't due to this difficulty; it was because he saw you with your clothes in disarray.

"Leave us alone," he said sharply, his gaze fixed on you. There was no one else around; he had directed that command at Decima. You bit your lip as she left the courtyard, leaving the two of you alone. He stepped towards you, inspecting you from head to toe so quietly that you wondered if he was trying to suppress his anger. Finally, he exhaled a deep, ragged breath, his dark brown eyes boring into yours.

"Where have you been?" he asked in a deep, almost growling voice. "I need an explanation right now."

@orcasoul @pedroslut4eva @immyowndefender @lailathepedritofan @screechingchildfury @shinymusicpanda @somedayheaven @ivoryandflame @negrita2345 @music-lover09 @javiismyhsbnd @idontcareihavenoidea @jisungandpedrolover @mmkkzz @ro-nahime-things @indiegirlunited @kluvspedro @movievillainess721 @berriesarepunk @bonadeamo @heramj @blushingwueen @smoochispoof @littlemisspascal @kirashess @okaaaadereeee @this--is--music @mmkkzz @ro-nahime-things @indiegirlunited @kluvspedro @movievillainess721 @berriesarepunk @bonadeamo @heramj @blushingwueen @smoochispoof @littlemisspascal @kirashess @melsunshine @meetmeatyourworst @footballfangirl94 @daejangandimja @ariesandwolves @hooomansstuff @vlonerv @chewie-bars @dendulinka6 @lucienofthelakes @superqueenearthquake

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kisakunt · 3 days ago

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megumi’s pissed— pissed with a big, capital p. he’s bothered a lot; irritated and agitated with people daily, no stranger to fingers curling into a fist either at his sides or to the top of someone’s head. but right now, in the cold of your room, he’s pissed.

“take this shit off.” he won’t dare lift his hands himself because if megumi is a man of anything it’s principle. you laugh— louder than a giggle but nonetheless muffled by your pursed lips— and shake your head.

“no can do, nutmeg.” and now he’s really mad.

“don’t call me that.” he’s itching, his normally protruding hair flattened, his palms clammy, his breathing shallow.

“c’mon, why are you so miserable all the time?” it’s a slow drawl, a whine that he has to force himself to ignore. “can’t you show a little joy? maybe even some jubilance? or dare you say it might kill you?”

your name comes out stern, calculated and pointed in a way he knows will get to you, and simply, he repeats himself.

“take this shit off.”

megumi fushiguro is not a big believer of tradition. he has never obsessed over a birthday— although he did buy you a singular cupcake and candle on yours— or stressed at the thought of marriage. he’s not big on anniversaries and he couldn’t care less about a baby shower or bachelor party, so naturally holiday’s mean nothing to him.

you on the other hand are, in his own words, a nutcase. you’d met him two weeks before the christmas prior and insisted you get each other small trinkets. on valentine’s day you gave everyone you knew a card, on easter you mastered the art of making your very own chocolate, on halloween you bought a costume that he refused to wear.

and now, here you are again; snow on the ground outside and a small, and frankly sad, tree in your room symbolizing not only the biggest day of your year but an absolutely grueling year of knowing you.

you sit in front of him, criss cross, with a goofy little grin on your face. he can’t help but think it’s utterly disgusting that that’s doing something for him. regardless though, he stands his ground.

“if you don’t take this off right now i’m not talking to you for a week.” you laugh for real this time, shaking your head with more energy than before.

“well we both know that’s a lie. i’d probably drop dead if you did that and then, overwhelmed by guilt, you’d turn into an even weirder and sadder old man.”

“i’m not old. take this shit off.” atop his head sat a truthfully horrific santa hat. it couldn’t have cost more than two dollars, assortment of dim led lights on the trim. he can’t help but think of how many little, lice ridden kids must have tried this on. but he still won’t budge.

“you know you can just take it off yourself, right?” he does know that— obviously— but again, he has beliefs. he has pride. it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact you’re looking at him like he’s heaven on earth or the matching hat smothering your own hair. it has nothing to do with you at all.

he shifts, leaning his body weight onto his left side as he presses his hands into the plush of your bed to lift himself up. he makes a little show of it, slow and meticulous as he barely raises himself.

it would be so easy to avoid this situation. it would be so simple to shake his head or yank the hat off or have stopped you from putting it there to begin with.

megumi’s pissed, but it’s not with you.

“i’m serious. it’d actually be nice to have a moment of quiet in my brain.” megumi is furious, livid and squirming in his own skin. he’s absolutely, unequivocally angry.

he’s angry because he can’t figure out why for the dear life of him there’s a tightly wrapped gift tucked in the bottom of his bag, or why he knows the nearly exact color hex of your eyes, or why he’s hummed— hummed— the song ‘war is over’ twice this week.

you grumble, butt hurt and annoyed now too, and you reach over as fast as you can and snatch it off of him.

“there,” and now megumi’s even more upset because that upset him and his head feels cold and empty now. “happy now?”

and before he can think, before he can be as calculated as he always is, it slips.

“no.” and in that moment something shifts. it’s both of you, just a little bit towards each other, it’s the tension that’s now (and always has been) in the air, it’s the way your hat slips a little to the side.

“well i just can’t win with you, can i?” the— his— hat lays loose between your fingers, your voice quieter than he thinks he’s ever heard it.

megumi wonders time to time if he’s a coward. he knows he’s strong, he knows he’s just in his opinions, he knows he fights. but sometimes he freezes and sometimes he panics and sometimes he can’t look you in the eye.

maybe it’s time for him to be brave. he leans into you, closer to you, breathing you all in and, brushing your fingers in the process, he takes it back from you.

suddenly it’s warm again. suddenly you’re matching again. suddenly he feels close to you again.

“there.” for once, it feels like christmas to megumi. “happy now?” and it feels like he’s got a gift in front of him.

#sorry if you’re bald but idgaf there’s one line you won’t relate to tysm #megumi x reader #jjk megumi #jjk x reader #megumi drabble #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk x you #megumi x you #megumi x y/n #megumi fushiguro #i haven’t written in a real long time it’s bad #jjk fic #megumi fic #megumi fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #i haven’t written in a very long time it’s NOT good #this is embarrassing i’m awful #merry christmas

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kammazi · 1 day ago

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★ katsuki and yourself weren’t big drinkers. sure after you two had graduated, you had gone to a few parties here and there but you were never a fan of the whole spinning dizzy feeling that alcohol brought with it, especially since you two are heroes. patrolling while hungover under the heat of the hot summer sun was dreadful.

so when you get a call from katsuki one evening while you were on patrol saying how kirishimas and the rest of the guys were going out for a few, who were you to say no? even though you knew the invitation for yourself always stood, katsuki needed some time for himself and by the time you would get off patrol it would already be past midnight.

so after exchanging some ‘i love you’s’, you disconnected the call and got back to whatever strolling you were doing.

and as the night went on you got more and more notifications that buzzed in your back pocket from who you assumed was your boyfriend. you eventually had a quick break and chugged an energy drink while fishing for your phone.

you let out a snort of laughter and looked around to make sure no one heard you before looking back down at your screen. there you saw multiple pictures took by denki of him standing on what you assumed was a stool while taking 0.5 picture’s of katsuki. what made you laugh even more was his flushed face and droopy eyes that held no fight in them as he stood there with his hands by his sides.

you could tell that he had drank quite a bit and as your break came to an end you had a short two hours left of your shift before you were able to finally get home and most likely take care of your said boyfriend.

and you were correct because as soon as you even such as stepped in through the doors of your shared apartment your phone once again started buzzing, this time it was a call.

“hello?” there was a shuffling noise before shouting hit your eardrums along with the music that blasted in the background.

“HEYY LOOK, ARE YOU-” you grimaced as you hear a glass breaking alongside some yelling. “huh? hello?”

the phone was picked back up. “THIS IS KIRISHIMA, KATSUKI IS KINDA REALLY DRUNK AND-” you then heard a whooshing sound and another crash. you stood there looking at your phone and then brining it close to your ear again. “uhh..kiri..shima?”

you heard the phone being picked up and panting into the microphone. “SORRY I JUST LAUNCHED MY PHONE HALFWAY ACROSS THE DANCE FLOOR AND IT HIT SOMEONE IN THE FACE.” you had to physically distance yourself from the phone before answering.

“kiri you don’t have to yell i can hear you!” you felt as if it was a screaming competition at that point. you heard a cackle before kirishimas finally got to the point.

“sorry, sorry! it’s just that bakubro got hella drunk and he’s kinda unmovable right now. he keeps saying your name and won’t really listen to anyone, would it be alright if you could come and pick him up?”

you were already picking up your keys and sliding on your shoes. “of course, be there in five.”

and so here you were pulling into the parking spot outside of the front doors of the building.

as you stepped in, you already felt exhaustion hitting you as you strolled around to try and find your boyfriend and those goons.

and then you saw him, sitting in a corner seat, with a cute sleepy look on his face, arms still crossed as always. kneeling in front of him, you saw denki, sero and kiri sitting across as they helped gather his stuff. you placed a palm against his face and patted his knee with the other.

“kats, love?” he groaned and slightly opened his eyes. “hey i’m gonna take you home okay?” and then suddenly, he moves his face away from your hand as his face held something like a mix of disgust and offence.

“get those damn hands away from me. i’ve a girlfriend.” although his speech was slurred you blinked before letting out a chuckle as the guys behind you hollered and stumbled over eachother.

you raised a brow, amused to see him act that way. “oh really? sorry about that kats, i won’t do it again.” his face whipped around to face you as he grimaced again. “oi. don’t call me that. only she can and you ain’t her.. so back off...” his sentence held no malicious intent as his head slowly tipped back. “where is she. i miss her.”

kirishima then came up next to you and patted his back. “bro shes right here! see?” in response to his words, katsuki raised his head and squinted at you for a while before slowly smiling. “heyy it’s my girlfriend.” immediately his head landed on your shoulder. he started babbling as he wrapped his arms around your frame, almost knocking you to the floor from the sudden weight. in the meantime, you glanced at his red headed friend.

“i’m sorry how much did he drink?” in response he scratched the back of his neck before holding up three fingers. “JESUS KIRI THREE BOTTLES?” kirishimas shook his head before cackling. “three drinks.”

now you knew your boyfriend was a lightweight but this was a tad too funny to you, not that you would ever tell him.. obviously.

with the help of kirishima, you managed to walk out a stumbling katsuki and just about sat him in the passenger seat before strapping him in as he babbled on about how much he missed you. sero and denki handed over his wallet and phone to you and you thanked them before saying your goodbyes as you sat behind the wheel.

on the drive back katsuki acted like he hadn’t seen you in months by the way he held your hand and kissed it every two seconds. with him telling you how much he loved you and how beautiful you where. in that moment you could not only feel somewhat giddy but be thankful for having this man in your life. no matter how tough he looked or acted, it really was true that he was a softy, drunk or not.

after arriving, getting him into bed wasn’t even a problem. he listened to your every word as he clung to you like a koala. you helped him brush his teeth on the toilet seat as you sat on his lap. even while drunk, his grip was still firm but gentle.

you then got him changed, him getting stuck in his t-shirt a few times, and you both finally climbed into bed. there was pure silence other that his quiet snores as he rested on your chest. as expected, he ended up passing out the second he wrapped his arms around you.

as you pressed a kiss on his forehead, you could once again feel the wave of exhaustion crashing over you as the warm pressure of katsuki’s body lulled you to sleep.

and in the morning katsuki awoke with not only a headache but also a lovely picture of his drunken state as a 0.5 printed and framed photo hanging in the living room as a forever reminder of that night.

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poguelandiarafe · 1 day ago

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broken promises 3 | rafe cameron

pairing - rafe cameron x female reader

warnings - angst, mature language, mentions of infidelity

summary - rafe finds you on the beach and begs for forgiveness but your pain is too raw to think about forgiving him. he's promising to do better for you and the baby but you reject his apologies, leaving him alone in the sand.

(sorry the last two chapters are so short, i'm trying to figure out which direction to take the series in. please please please (hey sabrina) message me or comment your thoughts and ideas!)

not a one-shot, read part one and part two here <3

masterlist

————

“leave me alone, rafe. i don’t want to talk to you.”

you're impressed with yourself, nearly expecting your arms to automatically open wide and accept him back just like that. but they don't, they stay firmly wrapped around yourself and as much as it pains you to realise, you don't want them around him anymore.

rafe runs a hand over his head, a frustrated sigh falling past his lips. he's been driving for hours and you won't even give him the time of day. taking cautious steps, he slowly approaches you until he's standing in front of you.

when you don't react, he kneels down in front of you and places a hesitant hand on your hip. his fingers barely graze your skin before you're quick to grab his hand and throw it off you. the feeling of his skin on yours is too much for you to handle. though your heart and body yearns to be wrapped up in his arms again, your mind is just about strong enough to not allow it to happen.

"let me explain, baby, please." he begs, his voice cracking.

"i said leave me alone," you sigh, yet you can feel your anger bubbling just beneath the surface, "there's nothing to explain."

you already know what he'll say - pathetic excuses and apologies about how much he messed up and that he regrets it. words you can't let yourself be fooled by.

rafe's shoulders sag as the words reach his ears. his hand slowly raises to grab your hip before he drops it back to his side in defeat. he's never felt so helpless before and he hates it. having you so close yet completely out of reach makes his heart ache in a way he never thought possible.

"you don't mean that, we can't end it like this," he whispers, voice thick with emotion as he looks up at you through wet lashes, "there must be something i can do. i'll do anything. i'll wait for you, i'll give you space. i'll do it for you and for our baby. i promise, y/n."

you refuse to look at him, instead keeping your eyes fixed on the ocean, willing yourself not to cry. his stare is burning into your skin and the faintest trace of forgiveness he's looking for from you is nowhere to be seen.

rafe stays kneeling in front of you, never taking his eyes off your face, searching for a crack in your amour. he's trying to maintain his composure, but his breathing is laboured and he's desperately blinking away the tears that blur his vision.

"no. i mean it, rafe. i need you to leave me alone." you say firmly, the words sharp, "i don't want you to wait. i won't stop you from being involved with the baby, but i don't want you to wait for me because i can't be with you anymore. i can't forgive you."

every part of you screams to walk away and never look back, to let him face the consequences of his actions alone. however, your feet remain rooted to the spot, as if a part of you is silently willing rafe to beg harder to fix this, even though you know it wouldn't change anything.

"you don't mean that," he says softly, "you still love me, i know you do. please, just tell me what to do to fix this."

"you shouldn't have to ask me how to fix this. and i do still love you," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper, "but i don't trust you, rafe. you've made your bed. now, lie in it."

for a split second, you think he's going to argue. his lips part to say something but the words never make it past them. so, before you can change your mind, you turn on your heel and quickly walk over to your car, each step feeling heavier than the last. you don't look back, even when you hear him choke out a broken plea. behind you, rafe stays kneeling in the sand, watching as you walk further and further out of his life.

once you reach the car, you let out a trembling breath and attempt to compose yourself. sliding into the driver's seat, the jagged edges of your keys dig into your palm and you squeeze them tighter, as if turning your emotional pain into physical pain will somehow help. for a moment, you just sit and stare, the weight of the day's events crashing down on you.

a few minutes pass before you start the car, and the last thing you see before driving off is rafe sitting in the sand with his head in his hands and knees pulled up to his chest. the thought of going back crosses your mind and you force yourself to look away, to focus on the road instead. you don't know where you're going, only that you can't go home.

taglist: @hellothere7 @faephoria @xcinnamonmalfoyx @samwinchesterisawhore @alyisdead @maybankslover @vdotcom @kundaquarius @lil-sparklqueen @flvredcas @esquivelbianca @pillowprincess4him @mariadu2 @suyqa @sexy123s-s @inmyowndefender @dreamygirli3 @aesthetic-lyss @gorgeouscgirl

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chaoticwriting · 3 days ago

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Danny X Cass Part 4

They arrive at the pantry in just a moment. Danny, Cass and the rest of the batfam go to take their seat while Clark and Diana go to make some teas and snacks. Danny and Cass sit beside each other with the other side of Cass being Spoiler. Opposite of Danny is Bruce while beside him are Nightwing and Robin. Red Robin takes a chair and sits right behind Batman while still taping on his wrist computer.

Batman, Nightwing and Robin keep staring at Danny while Clark and Diana prepare the snacks and teas but Danny doesn't look nervous at all. As much as Danny wants to take all of them seriously, he really can't when he knows what he knows.

A moment later Clark and Diana come with 2 trays of snacks and teas and put them on the table. They take a chair each and sit near the end of the table. Clark and Diana can feel the intense glares from 3 bats. Both of them glance at the target in question and they can see that the guy takes the glare with stride. It's like the person that is being glared at is someone else.

Suddenly, a loud ding sounded in the room. Danny takes out his phone and a grin spreads on his face. Danny shows the screen to Cass and she also releases a few giggles. Feeling the glares becoming more intense, Danny puts his phone on the table and lets everyone see what he is seeing.

On his phone is a selfie of Dan holding a bloodied Darkseid in one hand with a caption "Can't even give out a decent fight. Even Boxy is a better sparring partner than him." Another message entered Danny's phone and there is a selfie of Elle with Danny's clone bitch slapping Trigon in the background. "This place is so cool. You gotta bring me here to play more." Danny shows the rest of the heroes that the deed is done and they finally relax. Clark stands up from his table and goes back to the other room to inform the other heroes that the threat had already been taken care of.

Danny then puts back his phone and continues drinking his tea. Heh. They might think that they are being scary but they don't even know even now Danny is still flirting with Cass. That's one of the benefits of being able to read the opponent's body language and ghost speak. To others holding hands is just holding hands but to them, holding hands can be used to convey all of your emotions.

They stay like that for a while longer until Clark returns from the other room. Seeing Clark fully seated, Bruce finally speaks.

"Who are you really?" Bruce asks with the most intimidating voice he can use.

"Didn't I say? I'm Danny Phantom. High King of Infinite Realm etc etc. I have a lot of titles but the high King one is the only important one." Danny says carelessly.

"How old are you?" Bruce asks.

"20"

"Impossible." Red Robin suddenly interjects.

"Why is it impossible?" Danny looks curiously at him. He genuinely doesn't know why it is impossible.

"There are records of you all across time all the way back to the ancient human. There are even traces of you in multiple pantheons." Red Robin says.

"Oh, you mean that. Duh, it's easy. I time travel. It's quite easy to time travel when your pops is the master of time." Danny says.

"But didn't you say Clockwork hates when someone messes with time?" Superman asks.

"If there is a time traveler that messes with the timeline, who do you think will deal with the guy? It certainly ain't that old man. He sends me to deal with the time traveler/magician who are trying to change the timeline." Danny says.

"Is Clockwork your father then?" Diana asks.

"Adopted parents. He is my parents/mentor for anything ghost related. Well actually for most things related except personal human problems." Danny says.

"How long have you known Black Bat?" Nightwing asks. Finally the real question.

"Wait, I think 10 years now. You are 21 right Cass? I remember when I first met her she was being chased down by this weird ninja. After I shot a few of them down with my Fenton Taser, Cass handled the rest of them. She then passed out from exhaustion and I brought her to my secret hideout (A cave Danny found just then). After a few days, Cass fully recovered and since then, she and I have been meeting every few months whenever she comes around."

"Also, I know all of your real identity. The phrase 'Dead man tells no tales' is a complete bs by the way. The ghosts really like gossiping. Like that one time I heard a ghost say that he sees Bruce fall into the dumpster because his grappling hook is jammed. Or that one time Dick got catcalled by an old lady."

The bats (except Cass)froze when they hear that Danny knows their secret identity. Bruce sighs and takes off his cowl followed by the rest of the family.

"Do you also know my identity, Danny?" Clark asks.

"Yes, I know you Kal-el. Your parents are very proud of what you have become."

"You met Ma and Pa?"

"Your biological parents."

"You- you've met my parents?" Clark's voice shakes. Danny nods while smiling warmly.

"If you want, I can set up a meeting with your parents. Not for long of course. It's not good for a mortal to be inside the realm for too long. And that invitation extends to all of you."

Most of them stilled at that invitation.

#danny phantom #dead silent #danny x cass #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #batfam #cassandra cain #justice league

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chubby-bun-bun · 3 days ago

Text

untitled (part 5)

You rope the busy businessman into enjoying the holiday spirit.

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5 (current)

tags: sylus x reader, an au where you're an average citizen, slow burn, fluff, your shot's smoother than stephen curry's

“You set me up,” you accuse, pointing a finger at the culprit before you.

Your midnight-feathered companion merely squawks in your face.

Frowning, you scoop the garnet-eyed traitor into your arms. Try as you might, you can’t resist stroking its feathers, the soft, silky texture effectively subduing your vexation. The bird settles comfortably in your hold, pecking at some lint on your shirt.

Are you still plagued by your embarrassing encounter with the red-eyed Apollo of a man in the park last week?

Absolutely.

Are you being unfair by taking it out on an innocent animal?

You drop your face into your hands with a dejected sigh.

It’s the eve of the Frostlight holiday, and you’ve decided to visit one of the places you hold a lifetime voucher for—a quaint little coffee shop tucked away in a shopping district alley. Aside from wanting to shake off the holiday blues, worsened by the eerie quiet of your undecorated house (save for the tiny Frostlight tree your brother gave you as a gag gift on your fifteenth birthday), you’ve been eager to check out the place after its recent renovations.

You’d been enjoying the shop’s new seasonal latte, sitting at one of the outdoor tables, when the familiar sound of cawing reached your ears. Before you could look for the source, a blur of black feathers descended gracefully onto your tabletop, a tiny red gem bead clutched in its beak.

Normally, your friend’s surprise appearance would brighten your mood. But as the events of last week played out again in your mind, you couldn't help but launch into a one-sided tirade about how your little tag game with the bird had unfolded that night.

“He said his name was Sylus—he was so handsome,” you groan, idly tracing the condensation on your cup. “And such a gentleman, too! And I tripped over him.”

The crow pecks at the stack of tissues on your table.

“But he was bleeding,” you continue, your gaze drifting to your straw, now bent and chewed. “He looked really hurt. I tried to help him, but then he just stood up—like nothing happened!”

It abandons the tissues, opting instead to preen its feathers.

“Do you think it could’ve been his Evol?” you wonder. “If it was, that’s so cool. And really convenient, don’t you think?”

You glance down at your companion, only to find it engrossed in cleaning its glossy plumage, its blatant disregard for your monologue clear.

You huff.

Deciding to leave the bird to its own business, you let your gaze wander to the other shops.

Because it’s the eve of a well-awaited holiday, the shopping district is alive with activity. The booths are adorned with warm white lights, accented by the sparkle of colorful fairy lights. Even from a distance, the aroma of cookies, hot chocolate, and assorted pastries wafts through the air. At the heart of the district where the streets converge stands a towering Frostlight tree, its meticulously arranged decorations glimmering under the festive lights. Decorative wrapped presents are nestled beneath its branches, and a brilliant star crowns the top, casting a warm, radiant glow over the lively scene.

The crowd is a bustling mix: parents paying at booths, teenagers laughing boisterously in groups, children darting around with unchecked energy, pets drawing clusters of admirers… and a familiar, silver-haired man standing by a stall, his towering presence capturing the awe-struck attention of passersby.

You blink.

Before you even realize it, you're on your feet, weaving through the crowd—nearly tripping over a couple of kids—until you finally reach the stall.

Breathless from your short dash, you rise onto your tippy toes and tap him on the shoulder.

He turns around, brows furrowed as he glances left and right, before finally looking down.

“Sylus, hi!” you blurt out, a toothy grin plastered on your face.

You're pleased to catch the surprise flicker in his eyes.

"Sweetie," he greets, the faintest tug of a smile playing at his lips. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I was in the area trying this new latte...” you trail off, glancing down, only to realize your hands are empty.

You must’ve left it at the table, along with your little crow.

You look back up at him sheepishly. (You send a half-hearted mental apology to the abandoned drink and bird.)

“New latte, huh?” he says, lips curling up into a smirk.

You realize his eyes are a beautiful, bright scarlet under the light.

“What about you? What are you doing here?” you ask, eyes curiously trailing over his dark button-up dress shirt. The sleeves are rolled up neatly, revealing toned forearms, the fabric adorned with slashes of deep red embroidery.

Sylus pauses. “Just… handling some business,” he replies, vaguely gesturing to the stall behind him. Around it, several well-built men in black attire and face masks move about—some standing idle, others murmuring in low voices, and a few weaving in and out of the stall's shadowy depths.

Your gaze shifts past them, landing on the vibrant display of oranges, clementines, pomegranates, figs, and other fruits neatly arranged in wooden crates.

“Oh! You own a fruit business?” you exclaim, your face lighting up with excitement.

You miss the slight grimace crossing his face.

“How lovely!” you say, already fishing for your wallet. “Allow me to support such a wholesome endeavor. I’d like two bags of pomegranates, please.”

A brief silence lingers between him and the nearby men. Then, he chuckles, flicking a finger over his shoulder. Two of them—smaller and seemingly younger than the rest, each sporting identical curls—exchange a quick glance before grabbing paper bags and clumsily filling them with pomegranates.

“Here you go,” one of them says with a bow, handing you his bag.

“The freshest of the season!” the other adds cheerily, offering his own.

You accept the bags graciously, about to hand over your payment, when Sylus raises a hand. “On the house,” he tells you, eyes gleaming with amusement.

You hesitate. “Are you sure?”

“Of course,” he replies, gaze roving over your form with a slight smile. “A holiday gift, if you will.”

You take in how striking he looks beneath the soft glow of the lights, his presence almost ethereal against the lively backdrop.

It’s then you realize you only have one life to live. Life is too short for regrets, and you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. That fortune favors the bold, and that you either go big or you go home.

And so, with a deep inhale to steel your nerves, you seize the moment.

“Sylus, would you like to go get ice cream with me?”

The men behind him perk up. Deeper within the stall, a bound man sits trembling, a gun fitted with a silencer pressed against his temple. He’s being hushed, and the air grows thick with suspense as everyone waits with bated breath for the silver-haired man’s response.

After what seems like eternity, Sylus chuckles, flicking your forehead gently.

“I’d be more than happy to.”

—

You’ve barely spent an hour together, but already, you’ve learned so much about him.

He’s surprisingly chivalrous. You hadn’t expected it, but when you pulled out your wallet to pay for both your ice cream cups, he leaned over, gently swatted your hand away, and handed his card to the cashier.

You looked up at him in protest. “But I was the one who offered to get you ice cream…!”

He merely ruffled your hair, amused, as if you were an unruly feline meowing its head off for not getting the fish on the dinner table.

“I’m not letting you pay. End of discussion.”

Determined to make up for your honor, you dragged him to a weathered claw machine not far from the ice cream stand.

“Fine. But I’m getting you that one,” you declared, pointing at a black-and-red dragon plushie nestled among the other prizes. “You’re not allowed to refuse, okay?”

After a brief scuffle over who got to insert the coin (you lost), you managed to snag the plush on your first try. Triumphantly, you handed it to him, watching as he turned it over in his hands, his fingers gently fiddling with its tiny wings. Your gloating expression faded, though, at the sight of his faint smile, the image strangely sending a dull ache through your chest.

And despite his intimidating appearance, he’s remarkably generous.

When the two of you stepped outside the bustling shopping district for a breather, ice cream cups in hand, a gaggle of children in Frostlight-themed costumes approached. Tambourines and melodicas in hand, they eagerly asked if they could perform for you. Their chaperone stood nearby, wincing apologetically at their loud enthusiasm.

“Do your best,” Sylus told them, leaning against the building wall behind him, eyes gleaming in amusement.

The children hastily formed a crooked pyramid, the instrumentalists awkwardly positioned at the back, before launching into the most gloriously off-key performance you’d ever heard. You struggled to suppress your laughter, covering your mouth with your hand, but Sylus regarded them seriously, his head nodding slightly, as if genuinely finding rhythm in their chaotic melody.

When they finished with a burst of giggles, Sylus clapped slowly, laughter dancing in his gaze, before handing over a generous wad of cash. You’ve never heard so many high-pitched “You’re the best, mister!”s all at once.

You’ve been having so much fun—exploring the bustling stalls, petting the pups you come across, checking in on his hardworking fruit stall employees (and happily handing them some of the banana chips you bought), and watching the small fireworks display in the shopping district's adjacent plaza—that you don’t realize how late it’s gotten. Before you know it, you’ve arrived at your house, the neighborhood now quiet and serene, the hum of the city replaced by an almost peaceful stillness.

At your doorstep, you turn to see Sylus leaning casually against his sleek black SUV, his gaze fixed on you. A thought strikes you, and your eyes widen.

“Wait!” you blurt, fumbling for your key. “We never got around to returning each other’s stuff. Let me grab your coat!”

Before you can act, tendrils of black-and-red mist creep along the ground, curling around your feet. Bewildered, you stare at it as it coils upward, encircling you. “What…?”

Despite the way it looks, it feels soft and warm against your skin. Gently, it curls around your wrist, pausing your search for your key, and lifts your chin, guiding your gaze back to him.

“Return it next time,” Sylus tells you, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“But won’t you need it?” you ask, distracted by the way the mist dances around you, one tendril brushing your side playfully. You let out a surprised laugh. “Is this your Evol…?”

The mist retreats slowly, as if reluctant to leave. It curls around his feet one last time before dissipating entirely.

“I don’t have your sweater yet,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “It’d be rude to accept the coat before then.”

“But—”

“Think of it as my excuse to see you again.”

Your words catch in your throat as heat rises to your cheeks.

To appease you, though, he offers to exchange numbers so you can work out the details of your sweater and coat handover. If he notices the way your hands tremble when his fingers brush yours while swapping phones, he doesn’t mention it—though the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth doesn’t go unnoticed. With a reluctant wave and a final goodnight, you step inside and close the door behind you.

You lean against it for a moment.

Then, you bolt to your room, dive onto the bed, and scream into your pillow.

When you finally roll onto your back, breathless and grinning like an idiot, the ceiling above you seems brighter, the world lighter. It’s been so long since you’ve felt this way—like you’re floating, bursting with happiness.

You like him. You really, really like him.

As thoughts of brightly colored ice cream scoops and cuddly dragon plushies swirl in your mind, the weight of the day’s events finally begins to settle over you. You briefly resist, realizing you haven’t even changed out of your clothes or undergone your nightly routine yet, but in the end, you surrender to the comforting pull of slumber.

Just as you drift off, your phone screen glows faintly from your bag.

Good night kitten.

note: tysm for taking time to share your thoughts about the series 🥺 reading through them truly makes me so happy! it's so surreal to know that there are people out there actually looking forward to updates lol!! happy holidays, everyone! 💞

tag list: @thepotatoislost, @xxfaithlynxx, @browneyedgirl22, @vorfreudevortex, @midiplier, @wisteriaflowersss, @euclase0, @leighsartworks216, @keyiswatching, @goldenbirdiee, @delaythings, @datura109, @iloveboysinred, @everythingistaken00, @moonlight-inthe-sea, @blueberrysquire, @mourning-into-dancing, @bookfreakk, @everywherenothere, @vvhira, @laidenbreecatchall, @kyushii, @lucifer-says-hii, @sylus-crow, @carmelves, @nishayuro

#ori.writes #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x mc #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #love and deepspace #sylus fluff

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simp-ly-writes · 2 days ago

Text

When All That's Left is Love

─────── · · How Could You Refuse? (pt.9)

Pairing: Jayce Talis x Shy!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: After everything you both had been through; the pain, the torment, the utter longing, you and Jayce can only find your love leftover in the post-war rubble and go on to find various ways to show each other that your love is truly enough.

─ · · THE FOLLOWING CONTENT IS BETWEEN CONSENTING ADLUTS AND IS NOT MEANT FOR ANYONE UNDER THE AGE OF 18. skip the smut once seeing the star! ⭐️ tags under cut

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, protective! jealous! possessive(?)! Jayce, fluff, emotional angst (happy tears*), Evren (OC), kissing, teasing, swearing, brief descriptions of an anxiety attack, mentions of death and war, reader is mentioned to have hair and is shorter than Jayce, not beta read. smut: unprotected pinv sex (be safe please!), oral (fem receiving), dom!Jayce, almost caught, chocking, marking/biting, size kink?, hand kink?, dirty talk, aftercare.

─ · · A/N: a gift from me to you~ (gosh i'm so in love 😫🫠)

─────── · ·

─ · · Evren had come by near the end of breakfast as he helped ensure there would be no leftovers. He offered a giddy smile before stuffing his face and licking the plate clean. You sighed, disappointed, I was really looking forward to those waffles later. You feel Jayce's stare on you, catching your sad look as you stare at Evren's plate longingly. "Want to get ready together?" You feel Jayce hot breath whisper into your ear, you turn your head over your shoulder and nod as Jayce pulls your chair out and you both head down the hall.

"Would you mind helping me to the market? I used up the last of the eggs," Ximena asked, grabbing Evren's arm. "Of course, gorgeous," is the last thing you hear Evren say to Xiema before the bathroom door closes.

"You really are okay with Evren flirting with your mom?" you question as Jayce shrugs his shoulders, "my mom has better taste than him." Your jaw drops, "Jayce!" you shout before cracking up and Jayce can't help but laugh as well.

─ · · You and Jayce proceeded to get ready in the bathroom... or well, at least you tried too, Jayce on the other hand seemingly couldn't allow you to focus on anything but keeping his touch on you; pulling your head in his direction for a kiss before wrapping his arms around your waist, head on your shoulder as he looked at you both through the mirror with a grin- kissing you on the cheek. "Jayce! I can't get ready if you're all over me like this."

Jayce sighs, peeling his head away yet his arms and chest still block you against the vanity. "Someone's desperate for attention," you mumble underneath your breath, bending down as Jayce groans, not knowing that you would pay for your words and actions later.

You look for your hair product in the cabinet but just as you feel his hips roll into your backside you stand up straight and continue your routine- refusing to even make eye contact with him in the mirror.

With a huff Jayce pulls off his shirt before walking over to the shower albeit it slowly- knowing that the moment you saw skin, your attention was drawn to his back muscles flexing as he reached over to adjust the temperature and the small chain that dangles around his neck, you raise your brow curious as to what it is.

Steam begins to fill the small space as he turns around, bare chest brushing up against your covered one to grab a towel. Your hand grasped his side, eyes connecting with your promise ring dangling from his neck- you blink away the memories of that moment before trailing your hand slowly around and down to his stomach as you bite your lip, looking up at him.

Jayce says nothing, simply unbuckling his belt but before you can remove your hand he grasps your wrist, pulling it back to rest on his abs in a silent demand before you hear the leather slipping through the belt loops and crashing against the floor. You feel a wave of emotions come over you as your cheeks warm, your eyes not knowing where to rest upon as Jayce stares down at you, his body taking up your frontal vision and your hand so close to his- you simply stare up at the ceiling trying to calm yourself with deep breaths, I have work I need to get done today, I have work to do, I have-

─────── · · ⭐️

You feel Jayce's lips against your exposed neck feeling as he smiles against your skin once hearing you moan, fuck, that you quickly try and cover with your other hand. "God you're so beautiful," Jayce murmurs- his hands reach up your shirt leaving you gasping as he gropes your chest and feels for a clasp. Your hand slips from your mouth, "Jayce" you whisper-shout his name slowly in warning your yet it comes out more like a plea.

"Mhmm?" He murmurs, lips finding your cheek trailing down to your chin and across to your lips. You feel his breath, hot and heavy as he speaks softly to you, "I know you worked so hard on your make-up and hair darling, I won't mess it up, promise." You feel as he pulls away, your eyes opening as he pats the counter, "sit."

You stare for a moment, thighs clenching together, you can feel your core start to throb in want as Jayce watches the gears turn in your head, "just want to make you feel good, sweetheart." You cover your face with your palms, shaking your head, trying to regain your rationale mind but all you can think about us how good his fingers would feel stretching you out, the rough pad of his thumb rubbing your clit, the feeling of his beard scratching the skin between your thighs- you groan before lifting yourself onto the counter, looking at Jayce with pleading eyes.

Jayce rubs his palms up and down your thighs, feeling as they tremor in wait, the material of your nightgown starts to bunch up at the top of your waist exposing your wet folds soaking through the fabric of your undergarments. You shiver feeling the ghost of his knuckle teasingly swipe up and down your folds, "this wet for me already?" you nod, staring down at his hands watching the veins that bulge across the back of them and how they run up his forearms, you bite your lip remembering all the nights you fantasized about those exact hands helping you to reach your release and how many times your own fingers failed to compare.

You wiggle against the countertop in need, ready to start begging and by the look in Jayce's darkening eyes, he expects you to beg for him. "please just touch me, please," you press yourself against his hand, rotating your hips as he pushes the heel of his palm against your clit, you groan once finally finding friction to soothe the ache within you.

Jayce pulls his hand as you hump air for a second ready to complain before feeling as Jayce pulls down your ruined panties, casting them aside with his belt. Two large fingers circle around your leaking hole, the first knuckles sneaking in to gather your wetness before carrying it up to clit- pinching it and getting you to whine. When Jayce beings to rub, your head soon feels too heavy for your body- your forehead falling against his shoulder, "feels so good, Jayce," you hum into his ear, he smiles at the praise, "missed my fingers-hm?"

"mhmm, so much, Jayce. Just didn't feel the same," Jayce's movements pause again and you are beyond frustrated, reaching down to move his hand but Jayce remains firm, looking at you in the eyes with a strong, no.

"Who touched you here? tell me," Jayce asks, taking his attention away from your clit and instead entering your hole, filling you slowly before stopping halfway seeing as you don't answer him, "who fucked this pussy?"

"Only you since then Jayce, promise, only you," you feel yourself drip down your thighs as you pray for another finger to further the already delicious stretch you feel. "So this is mine?" you nod your head frantically feeling that third finger prodding at your entrance, the stretch a pleasurable burn as you grip his forearm, "all yours" you moan out feeling as he fully pulls his fingers out before filling you quickly and roughly.

"Mine to finger?" he kisses you once, another thrust, "yes," you whisper against his lips.

"Mine to fuck?" his kiss lingers, teeth pulling at your lip, "yes," you moan out, feeling his other hand move to place pressure againat your clit in small circular motions. The steam of the room coats your mind in a foggy haze of pleasure.

"Mine to cum in?" you clench down on his fingers, hard. Jayce presses his head against your own, breaths ragged, you feel across his chest down to his abs as he continues to fuck you with his fingers feeling as his muscles tense with every breath he takes.

Sparks explode across your hot skin that quickly turn into flames as you wiggle your hips, chasing your impending release. "Did you dream of me, baby? Me filling you up? Stretching you out? Reaching parts inside of you that no one else could? Marking you with my-"

"Jayce!" you yell, his words inciting your orgasm to come crashing down as you moan and whine against him yet Jayce only quickens his pace, slamming his fingers in and out of your gushing hole, the entire scene obscene as you flush at the squelching sounds of your lingering orgasm.

Your thighs are shaking as the once pleasurable burn turns into painful sensitivity, you tap Jayce's back three times getting him to stop. You watch as he slowly pulls his fingers out of your dripping cunt and see the way that they gleam underneath the artificial lights.

"My messy girl," Jayce belittles you, licking your release off of his fingers slowly, enjoying the taste thoroughly before bending down and forcing your knees apart, "let me clean you up?" he asks, looking up at you with large and shining hazel eyes- pleading.

How could you refuse that look? Grabbing him by his curly brown locks you lead his face towards your sex, withering and learning back against the cool mirror once feeling his rough tongue take a long lick up your slick. "J-jayce~" you sob his name and feel his moan vibrate your clit, your ankles lock behind his back, pushing him further into you.

Jayces hands grip your thighs tightly, you know marks will appear later but how could you care when he was making you see literal stars as you blinked looking up into the light fixture, lost in pleasure. "I'm gonna cum... a-almost there," you look down meeting his eyes as his tongue enters your hole making sure to gather every last drop of your previous orgasm.

You open your mouth in a silent scream, gripping his hair as he groans, nose rocking against your clit as your muscles clench- your orgasm rocking through every vein in your body, tingling and coming to life as your breaths become short and staggered before hitching as Evren calls your name from the front door.

You freeze, trying to pull Jayce away yet he just shakes his head, continuing to lap up your cunt as you plead at him, "J-jayce I-ah," you whisper through moans trying to wiggle yourself away but only finding yourself sitting more on his face, his hands squeezing and gripping your ass in warning.

You breathe out a sigh in relief once feeling him pull away, not bothering to wipe his mouth as he pulls you in for a kiss- tasting your release on his lips. You push your hands at his chest, needing air as he kneads your muscles, "I have to go see him," you try and explain to Jayce, feeling as he rocks his covered bulge against your prepared entrance. "Yeah? you need to go see him?" Jayce counters while starting to pull your night gown and bra with it over your head.

"I-I thought you said you weren't going to mess up my look," you try and counter with pout and glare once seeing your reflection in his dark eyes. Jayce smiles softly, "you're glowing, my love." You shake your head with a sigh, "I just came twice Jayce, I'm covered in sweat-there's a difference," you try and explain yet Jayce only shakes his head, kissing you to effectively shut you up. You hear Evren yell your name again, the front door slamming closed as his footsteps continue inwards into the apartment.

"He'll leave soon," Jayce explains as you listen to him unzip his pants, feeling as he rubs his length across your slick before feeling the tip of his cock poke at your hole- threatening to enter. Jayce tilts your head to the side, brushing your hair away before kissing up your neck to behind your ear, biting down on your lobe and whispering inside, "say you don't want this and I'll stop so you can go say hi to your friend."

You sigh frustrated, Jayce knows what he's doing, knows that your need is speaking louder than your brain. Evren will leave... right? "I need you Jayce," you confirm feeling as your hole wraps around the head of his cock, sucking him in. Jayce curses underneath his breath, knuckles turning white as he grips the countertop. "You have to relax for me, sweetheart. A bit too tight," Jayce says, biting his lip listening to you whine and force yourself to relax.

Jayce sighs, pushing himself in inch by inch, the time apart and the prep from his fingers could only do so much to fit you around his girth as you hissed, nails clawing into his back as he rocked you both gently to start. A hairbrush of yours falls and clatters against the tiled floors. Jayce leans forwards- sinking deeper into you, pressing a kiss to your nose before leaning down and leaving wet hot kisses against your shoulder.

"Hows it feel? you doing okay?" a knuckle gently brushing up and down your spine as you shiver and wiggle your thighs around his waist, "feels... good, so good, Jayce. So deep- thank you, Jayce, thank you," you cry out in bliss feeling him rock into you again, your walls aching with need.

"Yeah? This what you needed-hm? Just cock in you to make you relax?" You lean forwards pressing a kiss to his arm- not trusting your words as only moans come out of your mouth in between gasps of air as he forces himself in you again and again... a knock at the bathroom door sounds. You freeze yet Jayce keeps fucking you, uncaring as he smirks and looks down at you, wondering when you'll tell him to stop.

You stare at him blankly, a harsh snap of his hips has you about to moan yet he places his lips quickly against your own to muffle the sound, "quiet" he hisses into your ear afterwards. You paw at his arms, mind half filled with desperation for him to fill you, the other side to wanting to pull away. You close your eyes, thankful for the shower still being on but praying for Evren to just walk away.

Jayce begins to rub at our clit, your hands fall off Jayce's arms as you arch your back, leaning against the counter. After hearing nothing for a little while you look up at Jayce, I'm close, you try and whisper to him before biting back another moan- feeling as your eyes well with tears.

Jayce removes his hand from your clit, grabbing your waist as he starts to fuck you harder, hips slamming into your own as Jayce chases his own release.

You can barley contain yourself as you cry out in pleasure, mind fully gone, only thoughts of your impending orgasm clouding over. Jayce watches as your eyes roll into the back of your head, the way your chest bounces with every thrust of his cock into your leaking core. You feel as his hand snakes its way up between your breasts before gently gripping the sides of your throat in warning.

Another knock sounds, this time louder, "Hey, you doing okay? I'm gonna head to the library, take it easy today alright?" Evren says, voice close to the door. Jayce pulls your neck towards him, your eyes looking into his own as he squeezes again in warning before slowly releasing his grip. You clear your throat yelling, "Okay Ev! I'll see you tomorrow!"

"See you then!" you hear him tap the door twice in goodbye before locking your front door again. You collapse against Jayce's chest, moaning loudly, "Did that turn you on, sweetheart? Having someone almost hear me fucking you... could have seen my fucking you? Making them know that I'm yours and you're only mine?"

"Fuck, Jayce! Yes," you wiggle your hips meeting his thrusts, "just want to be yours." Jayce kisses you harshly feeling your thighs lock around him as you near your peak. "Gonna let me cum inside you?"

"Yes, please Jayce," you cry out. "Want to feel me coating your insides? Making you mine?"

"Mhmm!" you shake in his arms that wrap around your back, holding you upright as you feel him twitch within you, you gasp feeling your own orgasm rake over your body as you shudder against his chest, tears dripping down your cheeks as you mumble incoherently once feeling him fill you up with jagged thrusts, "s-such a good girl, so perfect for me," he stutters into a growl feeling as you clench down harder at the sound, effectively milking him dry.

You both lean against one another's hot and sticky skin. Jayce presses a kiss to your forehead, brushing the hair away from your face as he checks you over quickly, your heart aches at how quickly he changes personalities before picking you up by the back of your thighs and carrying you into the shower, still connected. You hum once feeling the warm water coat your skin before feeling the cool tile against your back as Jayce steadies you, equally hissing while watching him pull out.

You feel your combined release drip from your hole and start to run down your thighs with the water. You gasp once feeling the rough pads of Jayce's fingers collect the mixture and stuff it back inside your sore opening as you grip his bicep and take deep breaths. "Can't waste it now," Jayce murmurs- you question if you can orgasm again from not being able to feel your legs... and then you suddenly remember all the papers you have to mark as post-orgasm clarity comes to the forefront of your thoughts. "May just need to fuck you again if you're still thinking about anything, relax, my love," Jayce, lovingly ridicules you, picking up your chin to press a gentle kiss to your puffy lips.

─────── · · ⭐️

You sigh- forcing your mind to numb as you watch Jayce lather and wash your skin before cleaning himself. You reach up and pull him forwards by his shoulders so that you can wash his hair, digging your nails into his scalp as he smiles contently, closing his eyes in pure bliss. You had never seen Jayce so utterly... relaxed. Your heart swells as you cares his jaw, running your thumb across his cheek, you didn't realize you said those words aloud before hearing Jayce's response, "only you could make me feel this and it is only you I would trust enough."

Your heart skips a beat, "I love you, Jayce."

"And I love you, Sweetheart, so incredibly much," you squeal once feeling his large hand hold the back of your head, pushing your lips together in a heated kiss. We're never getting out of here are we?

─────── · ·

─ · · Drying yourselves off you both helped each other to get dressed. Jayce's heart ached seeing that you had taken some of his clothes with you, "I found the smell comforting" you explain with a blush before throwing one of Jayce's shirts in his face. He quickly catches it before then and moves to press a kiss to the side of your head as you sort through what to wear for the day.

Sliding on your pants you fiddle around your drawers for a shirt, huffing frustratedly when you realize the shirt you wanted to wear was still drying. "How about that white one?" Jayce points while tucking in his shirt. You become distracted seeing his forearms on display as he reaches for his belt. Jayce tilts his head and looks at you, "You don't have to, sweetheart. Just thought it would go with your pants."

You grab the white shirt and blazer to go with it. Jayce places one of his cufflinks between his teeth, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he fiddles with the metal before moving to his other sleeve. He watches as you button up your shirt, confused as to why you still looked annoyed. "Can you turn around please?" you ask quietly, slipping your blazer on without even looking at him.

"Turn around? But we just... okay, are you doing alright, darling?" Jayce asks, you stare as he bends over and reaches for his own jacket on your bed watching all the material of his clothes perfectly contour his body. Jayce listens to you huff, "Stop it," you demand.

Jayce turns back around to find you choosing a pair of shoes before moving to sit in an armchair within the corner of your room, practically shaking. "Stop what?" he asks softly- not wanting to anger you further as he kneeling before you, placing your ankle on his knee before sliding your shoes onto your feet and lacing you in. He presses a kiss to your knee before picking up your other foot and doing the same.

You open and close your mouth annoyed by how good he looks while simply getting himself ready. The way he moves and flexes as if knowing you're watching. Jayce picks up your hands in between his own, rubbing the backs of them with his thumbs. "We can't get ready together again," you say before standing and picking up your jewellery from your nigh stand, hands shaking as you try and find the small clasp of your necklace behind your head before feeling Jayce's larger hands take the chain from your hands and clasp it together with ease before gently pulling your hair back into place.

"Why?" Jayce asks, hands rubbing up and down your sides as you both stand there silently and feel the suns warm kiss against your faces coming in between the blinds. "You're really distracting," you mumble underneath your breath before pulling away from his touch and heading outside the room. You listen as Jayce bursts out laughing- the sound of it echoing through the apartment before he takes a few large strides to meet back up with you at the front door.

─────── · ·

─ · · You take Jayce on a tour of the university campus, walking him around the greenhouse, pointing and explaining the various local fauna to him (yet also getting annoyed once noticing he was too busy staring at you instead of the flowers). "Jayce look! You can look at me whenever you want but not these," you try and explain. Jayce sighs looking at the flowers more closely, imagining how good they would look in your hair... fuck, I'm staring again, he thinks to himself.

You both are go un-noticing to the way a few of your students point and cover their mouths gasping and gossiping at the sight of your both together.

─ · · Next you take him into the library where you showed off your recently published studies with Evren. Jayce was so happy for you he nearly yelled while picking you up for a hug and giving you a little spin. His smile was intoxicating as he took the material off the shelf and started flipping through it.

You rested your head on his arm looking between his reaction and the pages as he pointed to the various diagrams you drew and the articles you collaborated on with utmost interest before gently placing it back on the shelf, squeezing your hand, "I'm so proud of you, sweetheart." You pulled him in for another hug, "thank you... it really means a lot."

"I'll say it a thousand more times since you deserve nothing but praise," you looked up, eyebrow raised as Jayce winked before pulling away, dragging your hand with him and back into the library's lobby where a small crowd had formed.

"Head Councillor! What brings you to the campus?" "Is it true that you slept with Councillor Medarda?" "When's the engagement?" "Can you let us know Piltovers plans for new trade?" "Do you still consider yourself, 'the man of progress'?" "Miss!" a hand reaches out to shake your own yet you quickly lace your fingers together and offer an anxious smile, taking a step slightly behind Jayce becoming worried as the crowd of journalists only seems to grow once discovering you.

Jayce looks down at you, trying to hold a smile while the lights flash in your face and various students begin yelling and complaining about the growing noise. Jayce shakes a few hands and waves away the questions with apparent ease yet you can see the way he grits his teeth, jaw tense as he constantly rings his fingers through his hair and grips your waist a bit too tightly, trying to lead you through the crowd and back to his hotel room so you both can get some work done today.

"Thank you all for your interest, but me and my partner here must get going-" Jayce begins to say, almost making it to the doors yet the question are a waterfall. "So you both are back together then?" "Why and when did the split happen?" "From partner to assistant, did you sleep your way to the top of society?" "Can we expect a wedding in the future?" "What about kids?" "Who is the heir to the House of Talis?" "Do you consider yourself distracted from your role?"

You start to feel sick, mind flashing back to all those sponsorship events you both used to attend. The seemingly never-ending curious eyes and hands- someone grabbed your elbow tugging you away from Jayce. You scream, threatening to fall back as a sea of reporters hold you upright... there are way to many hands touching me right now, your eyes go wide with panic as you begin to hyperventilate.

Fuck, where's Jayce? where is-, you blink through the masses trying to find Jayce, Evren, anyone you recognize before feeling your arm be tugged- firmly into a warm chest. Jayce shoves an on-coming reporter, taking deep breaths through his nose, eyes pointed and threatening as he opens the door for you and you both escape outside.

─ · · "Are you alright?" Jayce asks once you both are a distance away, "I'm sorry that happened. I had not considered that was the first time we had been publicly seen together since..." Jayce's voice trails off, his hand cupping the back of your head- eyes wide and glistening as he studies every micro-expression that crosses your features.

"I'm okay... just a bit... shaken-up after it all is all," you try and explain, reaching out to hold Jayce's hand hearing as he lets out a sigh of relief. "When you come back to Piltover, I'll make sure this doesn't happen."

"When I come to Piltover?" You raise a brow while holding a frown doing your best to hide the playful tease behind your eyes to appear pissed. Jayce opens and closes his mouth, removing the hand from your head to instead scratch at his neck, "I-uh, well, I was assuming, ass move of mine that-ah, you were coming back with me?"

You stare at him, tapping your foot with your arms crossed watching as he sweats, eyes frantic in panic before walking past him and in the direction of the hotel without another word with a smile. "Sweetheart(name)- please, I-I can stay here or visit, whatever works for you-" Jayce runs after you, hands extending yet pulling away quickly as he goes to touch you- unsure of how to not set you off further.

─────── · ·

─ · · When you get to the hotel doors, a staff member quickly ushers you both inside as you stand in the elevator, "what floor?" you ask in a cold tone as Jayce reaches over and hits number ten. You wait until the doors close before pulling Jayce by the lapels of his jacket and pressing a kiss close to his mouth before dropping your hold quickly and facing forwards.

Jayce stands there still leaning, shocked etched into every muscle as he blinks twice. "Where did that come from?" he whispers before standing up straight once hearing the doors chime open. You smile up at him innocently, adjusting the bag on your shoulder with nonchalance- waiting for him to unlock the door.

You watch as he fumbles for the key in his suit jacket before extending his arm through the doorway, allowing you to enter first before closing the door behind you both and taking your jacket to hang up in the entry way. You look around his organized room, picking up the random papers on his desk before falling onto his made bed and spreading out your arms with a sigh.

Jayce stands at the foot of the bed looking down at you in concern, "Jayce my love," you call out to him while observing his hopeful eyes. "Of course I'm coming back with you... I'd follow after you endlessly," you admit before feeling a dip in the bed as Jayce burrows his face into your stomach, you feel as he shakes his head, "can't believe you, toying with my poor heart," you hear him murmur.

"Would it also count as toying if I said I wanted my ring back?" you feel Jayce frees before pushing himself up and hovering above you. "Really?" he whispers, you can hear a younger Jayce in those words, see it in his bright eyes, feel it in the duvet as he rushes to unbutton his shirt and fish the chain out and over his head.

You sit up in the bed, leaning against the head board and presenting your hand not being able to contain the smile that spreads across your cheeks mirroring Jayce's grin as he slowly slides the band across your finger before leaning down to press a kiss against it.

You squeeze your hands together, closing your eyes to enjoy the moment as you hear laugh to himself in disbelief before hearing him choke into a sniffle. Your eyes flash open looking to see whats wrong watching as Jayce silently cries with a smile, gently shaking his head while staring at you with large hazel eyes that seemingly appear to be made out of gold from the sunlight flooding into the room. "Jayce," you softly call him name, feeling as your own eyes start to burn.

Jayce's eyes closes his eyes once hearing you say his name so sweetly, so full of love that his heart has his head falling to the bed as he grips your knees- posing as if to worship you. "Jayce?" you call out again, combing your fingers through his hair as he continues to quietly cry, "thank you," he says before picking up his head and trying to blink through the tears. You wipe your own away, reaching up to help him wipe them away as he does the same with choked chuckle.

"For what, darling?" you pose back.

"For loving me," Jayce moves his head to kiss your palm, taking a deep breath before continuing, "For allowing me back into your arms, for dealing with every ribbon and string that comes attached with me. For accepting me as enough even when I couldn't see it- can't see it-" You leap forwards and into Jayce's arms, sobbing into his shoulder and pressing a light kiss to his neck.

"Forever and always, Jayce. Until the end and whatever comes after that for us," you promise with a squeeze of your arms and another press of your lips to his skin feeling as Jayce nods, not being able to find the right words for the first time in his life in order to convey the utter relief he feels in this moment, feeling you in his arms, hearing your love in his ears, knowing that you both had finally gotten over the mountain and through every valley to come to this.

You both find yourself crying harder once feeling a cool breeze enter the room- bursting from a loose window and caressing your skin in a gentle embrace. Hello Viktor, you think to yourself, opening up your hand from Jayce's back, Thank you for returning him to me, you feel the cool air seep between your fingers before leaving like it never came.

"What do you think Viktor would think?" Jayce mumbles, playing with the seams on your shirt, you hum, starting at yourself through the mirror above the hotel desk. "I think he'd be happy for us," you respond, placing your hand back on Jayce's back, rubbing large circles with your palm feeling as he lets out a long breath, Thank you, Viktor, for allow me to see this, Jayce thinks to himself, Thank you.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: right in the feels am I right? AHHH 😭😭😭

─ · · JAYCE TALIS TAGLIST: @sseleniaa @sunshiines-stuff @kiromiix @todorokishoe24 @w2momo @m-arj-1 @reid490 @kaminocasey @chickenlvr123 @peachhiz

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greengoblinswifey · 3 days ago

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Winter’s Embrace— Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

summary— Spending Christmas in a cozy cabin, you help Bucky reconnect with the holiday spirit in more ways than one and have the best Christmas gift he’s ever experienced.

warnings— mentions of bucky’s past trauma, fluff, L bombs, praise kink, daddy kink, oral, fingering, face fucking, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n— Merry Christmas Everyone, have a wonderful day🎄🫶🏽!

Bucky wasn’t much of a holiday person. He didn’t hate Christmas, but the memories of simpler times before the war, before Hydra, often left him feeling hollow. You knew this, and that was why you decided to whisk him away to a secluded cabin in the mountains for Christmas. You hoped a change of scenery might help him associate the holiday with something warm and new, something just for the both of you.

The cabin was a cozy little thing tucked into the snowy woods, decorated with warm pepper lights strung along the edges of the wooden roof. Inside, a stone fireplace crackled with a soft orange glow, and the scent of freshly baked cookies filled the air. You’d spent the afternoon decorating a Christmas tree, playfully arguing with Bucky about where to hang the ornaments.

“Babe, you can’t put all the gold ones on one side,” you teased, standing on your tiptoes to fix one of the baubles he’d clumsily placed.

“Well, I’m just trying to balance it,” he said with a smirk, stepping behind you to steady your waist as you reached higher. “And don’t forget, doll, I’m working with one arm here. I deserve a little grace.”

You laughed softly, leaning into his touch. “Fine, you win. But next year, we’re getting a way taller and bigger tree.”

He chuckled, his deep voice sending a warm shiver down your spine. “Next year, huh? I like the sound of that.”

Later that evening, after the two of you shared a simple dinner, Bucky pulled out a box you hadn’t seen before. He hesitated, holding it for a moment before placing it on the table.

“What’s that?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Something I didn’t mean to pack,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think I threw it in by accident when I was grabbing decorations.”

Inside the box were a few fragile ornaments, clearly from decades ago. One of them, a little snowman with a crooked top hat, caught your eye.

“This is adorable,” you said, holding it up gently.

Bucky’s gaze softened as he stared at the ornament. “My sister made that when we were kids. It’s one of the few things I still have from, uh, back then.” His voice faltered, and you reached out to hold his hand.

“You’ve been through so much,” you said softly, threading your fingers through his metal ones. “But you’re here now, and you’ve made it through all of it. You deserve this happiness, Bucky. You deserve this Christmas, and so much more.”

He exhaled slowly, his lips curving into a small smile. “You’re the reason I even try, you know that? Without you, I’d just—I don’t know.”

“Don’t do that,” you said firmly, squeezing his hand. “You’re more than your past, Buck. And I’m here for all of it, every memory, every moment. Even the bad ones, if it means I get to be with you.”

The fire crackled softly as he cupped your face in his warm hand, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “You’re my whole world, sweetheart,” he murmured, his blue eyes locked on yours. “I didn’t think I could have this. I didn’t think I could have you.”

You leaned into his touch, your lips meeting his in a soft, lingering kiss. It deepened naturally, his hands sliding to your waist as he pulled you closer.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips.

“I love you too,” you said, your voice barely above a breath.

The warmth of the fire and the way his hands roamed your back made you feel safe, wanted, and completely at ease. Before you knew it, he had scooped you into his arms, carrying you to the bedroom with a look of pure adoration.

“I need this Buck, it would make tonight all the more special,” you whispered, as Bucky placed you gently on the plush bed.

“Anything for you doll.”

Bucky stripped you of your clothes, leaving your body bare as he kissed from your collarbone trailing down to your thighs.

“So so beautiful,” he murmured between kisses, “I got so lucky.”

You squirmed under his touch as he nipped on your inner thigh before inching to your clit, his tongue slowly flicking it.

“Buck, please,” you whined.

“That’s not my name right now, sweetheart,” he said, voice gruff before swiping his tongue along your folds.

“Daddy—m’sorry, I just need more,” you whimpered.

He granted your wish, his mouth engulfing your clit and sucking. Your body shivered as he held your legs spread eagle, savoring your sweet taste. You tasted better than anything he’d eaten all Christmas season.

“You taste amazing baby, fucking hell,” he groaned, licking from your leaking entrance back up to your clit. He slipped a finger inside your pussy, curling it and pumping steadily as his tongue focused on sucking and flicking your bundle of nerves.

“Daddy, that feels so good, don’t stop, m’ gonna cum,” you whimpered.

Bucky hummed in content, holding you down as you squirmed and pumped his fingers even faster. Your clit was swollen and throbbing on his tongue as a powerful orgasm neared.

“C‘mon angel, cum for daddy, all over my tongue,” he commanded.

Ever the obedient girlfriend, your fingers tangled in his brown hair, and you ground against his mouth as a stream of liquid spurted from your pussy.

“Mm— that’s it’s, that’s a good girl,” he cooed.

He helped you ride out your high, his fingers pumping inside your pussy as he slurped your juices before you were shaking from overstimulation.

“Can you fuck my face, daddy?” you asked shyly, looking up at him with big doe eyes.

“Anything my angel wants, she gets,” he whispered.

Bucky climbed over your body, shedding himself of his bottoms and revealing his thick, hard cock. You took ahold of it, barely able to wrap your hand around it and placed a kiss on the leaking tip.

“It’s always so pretty daddy,” you whispered, placing wet kisses all over his cock.

He wrapped your hair in his flesh hand and thrusted his cock into your mouth, immediately making you gag.

“Fuck, you’re okay, right baby?”

You nodded and buried your face into his cock, gliding your tongue along the veins on his shaft. He snapped his hips forward, fucking your mouth as he praised you.

“You’re such a good cock sucker baby, so amazing, don’t think I’m gonna last long with that mouth of yours,” he moaned.

As he slammed into your mouth, you used your soft hands to massage his balls, feeling them tighten under your touch.

“Shit, it’s coming, take my cum down your throat, angel,” he gasped, unable to hold back.

You pushed your head down until you were almost touching his pelvis, massaging his balls as his hot load shot down your throat. He continued fucking your throat as you swallowed every drop and looked down at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

“Good girl, fuck, I love you,” he sighed, moving down and placing a soft, lingering kiss on your lips.

He moved further down, dragging the tip of his cock along your wet pussy.

“Ready angel?” he asked, lining his cock with your entrance.

You nodded frantically, desperate to feel his hard cock, deep inside you, raw.

He slowly inched inside you, both of you gasping in pleasure. “You’re so tight, sweetheart,” he whimpered, staring into your eyes.

“Mhm—harder daddy, please,” you whined.

Bucky began steadily pounding into you harder, your pussy making noises that could be heard throughout the cabin. He rolled his hips beautifully, his cock brushing against your cervix and your g spot simultaneously. You could feel him throb each time you moaned and clamped around him.

“You feel so fucking good, you take it so well,” moaned.

He leaned down, kissing your temple and then your lips as you wrapped your legs around him and met his hard thrusts. Your pussy clenched around him tight, desperate for release.

“Shit baby, cum for daddy, I need you to cum with me, I won’t last with the way this tight pussy is just gripping the fuck outta me,” he murmured.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your eyes locked onto his, the moment so dirty yet intimate as your jaw fell agape and the coil in your abdomen snapped.

“Daddy, I’m cumming, fuck, I’m cumming,” you cried out, your release ripping through you.

“Me too angel, I’m gonna cum inside you, take every drop,” he panted.

Your body shook under him as you felt him fill you up just as your pussy soaked his cock and the towel under you. He placed kisses all over, slowly pumping his cock as you milked him of his warm seed.

“You did so good angel, I’m so proud of you,” he smiled, kissing your lips.

“I love you so much, Bucky.”

“I love you too, doll.”

The next morning, you woke to the smell of hot chocolate and the sight of Bucky standing by the window, holding two mugs and watching the snow fall.

“Merry Christmas, doll,” he said with a soft smile, handing you a cup as you sat up in bed.

“Merry Christmas,” you replied, your heart swelling as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

The morning passed in a blur of laughter, teasing, and exchanging gifts. Bucky had outdone himself, presenting you with an delicately engraved bracelet, a stack of books you’d mentioned months ago, and a soft cashmere sweater that matched the chocolate tone of your skin perfectly.

“You’re so sweet,” you said, shaking your head as you pulled him into a hug.

“You deserve it,” he said simply, kissing your temple.

Your gifts to him included a leather-bound journal, a vintage pocket watch, and a pair of gloves for his metal hand that you’d custom-ordered. The way his face lit up at each gift made your heart ache with love.

“Seriously, doll, you didn’t have to do all this,” he said, pulling you into his lap as the two of you sat by the tree.

“You’re worth it, Buck,” you said, cupping his face.

The day ended with the two of you baking cookies—well, you baked, and Bucky mostly snuck bites of the dough and curling up on the couch to watch It’s a Wonderful Life.

As the credits rolled, he pressed a kiss to your hair and murmured, “This might be the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

You smiled, snuggling closer to him. “It’s only the beginning, Buck. We’ll make so many more.”

And for the first time in years, Bucky truly believed it.

Bucky smiled as you adjusted the settings on the small digital camera you’d brought along, the vintage style device fitting perfectly with the cozy holiday vibe of the cabin. “C’mere, you look so fine,” you said, waving him over to the couch where you had draped a plaid blanket for your makeshift photo session.

He chuckled softly, sitting down beside you. “You really want to document this?”

“Duh!” you said with a grin, leaning closer to frame the two of you in the shot. “This is our first Christmas together, Buck. I want to remember it forever.”

“Alright,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “But if I look ridiculous, you’re deleting it.”

“Deal,” you teased, snapping the picture.

You ended up taking dozens of photos, some posed, some candid, and some of Bucky caught mid laugh as you tickled his sides to get him to smile. When you were done, you set the camera aside and rested your head on his shoulder.

“I also have this,” you said, handing him a tiny gift bag from under the tree.

“What’s this?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he pulled out a small, personalized keychain engraved with the words “Home is wherever you are.”

“It’s cheesy, I know,” you said, suddenly shy. “But I thought—”

“I love it,” he interrupted, his voice soft. He attached it to his keys immediately, turning it over in his hands. “Thank you, angel. You always know how to make things special.”

Later, the two of you ventured outside, bundled up in coats and scarves, to build a snowman in the fresh snow. You laughed as Bucky insisted on giving the snowman a “metal arm” made of a stick he found, complete with a dramatic pose.

When the sun began to set, you returned to the cabin to warm up by the fire. Bucky brewed hot chocolate while you set up a board game, the two of you spending hours teasing and laughing over your competitive streaks.

As the night wound down, you turned on the record player in the corner, selecting a soft, jazzy Christmas tune. Bucky took your hand, pulling you into an impromptu dance in the middle of the room. His hands rested securely on your waist as yours looped around his neck, and the two of you swayed in time with the music.

“I never thought I’d have this again,” Bucky murmured, his forehead resting against yours.

“Have what?” you asked softly, brushing your thumb over the nape of his neck.

“This,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Happiness. A home. You.”

You kissed him tenderly, your hearts full of love and the promise of many more Christmases to come.

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hisfavegirl · 2 days ago

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The Price Of Loyalty - King!Aegon Targaryen x Wife!Reader

Summary : Your marriage to Aegon should have calmed the feud between your two families, but everything changed when Aegon was crowned king and the news of your brother's death brought you a difficult choice.

Aegon Masterlist.

The weight of your choices pressed heavily on your shoulders, leaving you caught in an impossible web of loyalty and love. As the daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon, you had grown up knowing the value of family, honor, and duty. Your mother had been named heir to the Iron Throne by your grandfather, King Viserys, and you had always believed that one day she would ascend to the throne, her birthright fulfilled.

But everything changed after your grandfather’s death.

Your husband, Aegon, had been crowned king in a swift and decisive move orchestrated by his supporters. The very man you had chosen to marry for love had now become the usurper to your mother’s claim. Though you had stood by his side during the coronation, the guilt in your heart had been overwhelming, each cheer from the crowd feeling like a dagger to your soul.

Now, as you sat beside Aegon in the Red Keep, his crown glinting in the candlelight, the weight of your decision felt suffocating. Your love for him had once felt unshakable, a bond strong enough to withstand the chaos of your divided family. But now? Now you weren’t sure if love could bridge the chasm that had formed between your duty to your mother and your devotion to your husband.

The guilt clawed at you relentlessly. I’ve betrayed her, you thought bitterly, your fingers curling into fists on your lap. My own mother. The woman who raised me, who trusted me, who believed in me. How could I stand by Aegon’s side and allow this to happen? How could I let him take what is hers?

Yet, when you looked at Aegon, you saw more than just a usurper. You saw the man who had held you in his arms on countless nights, who had whispered promises of love and devotion. He hadn’t asked to be king; the crown had been thrust upon him by those who sought to secure their power. You knew he was as much a pawn in this game as you were. And despite everything, you still loved him.

But love alone wasn’t enough to silence the voice in your heart that cried out for justice for your mother.

You were trapped in the middle of a war you never wanted to fight, a war between your two families, both of whom you loved deeply. And as much as you tried to justify your actions, to tell yourself that you were trying to prevent more bloodshed, the truth was undeniable: by staying with Aegon, you had chosen a side. And it wasn’t your mother’s.

Tears stung your eyes as you turned to look at Aegon, who was engrossed in a discussion with his council. He caught your gaze and gave you a small, tired smile, but it only deepened the ache in your chest. You returned the smile weakly, but your mind was far from at ease.

What will you do, Mother? Will you ever forgive me? And… can I forgive myself?

The heavy oak doors creaked open, drawing the attention of everyone in the council chamber. The sound cut through the quiet murmur of discussion, and all eyes turned toward the figure entering the room. Aemond stood there, drenched from head to toe, rainwater dripping from his armor and pooling at his feet. His long silver hair clung to his face, and his single eye burned with intensity.

Your heart sank the moment you saw him. There was something in his demeanor—an edge, a tension—that immediately unsettled you. He avoided your gaze entirely, his expression cold and unreadable, and instead fixed his eye on Aegon, your husband and the newly crowned king.

“I’ve secured Lord Borros Baratheon’s support,” Aemond declared, his voice low but steady. The words echoed in the chamber, and for a moment, the room was silent, processing the weight of what he had just said.

The council members exchanged glances, some murmuring approval, others nodding in acknowledgment. Aegon straightened in his seat, his expression betraying a mix of relief and satisfaction. “Good,” he said, his voice calm but carrying an undertone of authority. “We need Storm’s End on our side.”

But you couldn’t shake the unease that settled in your chest. Something about Aemond’s posture, his refusal to meet your eyes, made you feel like there was more to his story than he was letting on. Your gaze lingered on him, searching for any sign of what might be wrong, but he remained stoic, unflinching under the scrutiny of the room.

Aegon leaned forward slightly, his tone curious but cautious. “How did it go? Was it a straightforward agreement?”

Aemond’s jaw tightened, and for the briefest moment, his mask slipped. “Lord Borros agreed to our cause,” he said curtly, his tone clipped, almost dismissive. “He will not side with Rhaenyra.”

Your stomach churned at the mention of your mother’s name. Every decision, every alliance, every movement in this war seemed to push you further and further from her. And now, with Storm’s End backing Aegon, the divide felt even greater.

But your unease only grew as you continued to watch Aemond. There was something he wasn’t saying, a heaviness in his demeanor that suggested more than just the weight of his mission. You wanted to speak, to ask him directly what had happened, but the words caught in your throat. You didn’t trust yourself to remain calm, not with the tension between your family and your husband already pulling you apart.

Aegon, however, didn’t seem to notice the undercurrent in his brother’s tone. “Well done, Aemond,” he said, nodding in approval. “Your efforts will not go unnoticed.”

Aemond simply inclined his head, but his eye flickered briefly toward you, as if he could feel your stare. It was only for a moment, but it was enough to send a shiver down your spine. Something was wrong—terribly wrong—and you knew it was only a matter of time before the truth came to light.

Your voice broke the tense silence in the room, trembling but firm. “Aemond,” you asked, your gaze fixed on him, “is there something you’re not telling us?”

The question hung in the air like a sword poised to strike, and for a moment, the chamber fell deathly quiet. You saw it immediately—his body stiffened, his jaw clenched, and his hands balled into fists at his sides. Aemond’s refusal to meet your eyes only deepened the pit forming in your stomach.

Aegon turned to you, his brows furrowing. “Why would you ask that?” he questioned, his tone tinged with curiosity and caution. His words, however, barely registered with you. Your gaze never left Aemond, the unspoken weight in his posture filling you with dread.

The tension in the room grew unbearable as Aemond finally looked up, his eye filled with a mix of regret and defiance. His lips parted, and the words that came out made the world around you crumble.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” he began, his voice hoarse. “It wasn’t supposed to end this way… but Luke is dead. Vhagar—she killed him. I… I couldn’t stop it.”

The words slammed into you like a physical blow. Your knees buckled, and if it weren’t for Aegon’s arm instinctively reaching out to steady you, you would have collapsed on the cold stone floor. Your breath hitched, your chest tightening as you struggled to process what he had just said.

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head, your voice barely audible. “No, that can’t be true. Not Luke. Not my brother…”

Aemond’s face was pale, his expression a mix of guilt and torment. “I only meant to frighten him,” he admitted, his voice growing quieter with each word. “But Vhagar—she didn’t listen. She… she acted on her own.”

Your mind reeled as the pieces fell into place. Your little brother, Luke, had been sent to Storm’s End as a messenger, unarmed and trusting the ancient laws of guest right to protect him. And now he was gone—killed by your brother-in-law, your husband’s brother.

The council erupted into chaos, voices overlapping as accusations and questions flew across the room. But you could barely hear them. All you could focus on was the ache in your chest, the unbearable grief that came crashing down on you like a tidal wave.

Your eyes burned with tears as you looked at Aemond, your voice trembling with raw emotion. “You killed him,” you choked out. “You killed my little brother, Aemond. How could you? How could you do this to him? To me?”

Aemond flinched at your words, his guilt evident, but he didn’t speak. He simply stood there, his eye downcast, as though bracing himself for the storm he had unleashed.

Beside you, Aegon’s face darkened, his grip on your arm tightening as he tried to steady both you and himself. “Aemond,” he said sharply, his voice laced with disbelief and anger. “Do you realize what you’ve done?”

But Aemond didn’t respond. He simply stood there, his silence more damning than any words could have been.

You pulled away from Aegon’s grasp, tears streaming down your face as you looked between the two of them. Your heart was shattered, your world crumbling around you. And in that moment, the love and loyalty you had felt for your husband and his family felt like a cruel betrayal of your own blood.

Luke was gone. And nothing would ever be the same again.

You sank back into your chair, the strength draining from your body as if the weight of Aemond’s confession had crushed you. Around you, the room was a cacophony of raised voices. Alicent’s sharp tone cut through the air, her words laced with panic and anger.

“Aemond! Do you realize what you’ve done? This will spark war! There’s no undoing this!” she cried, her voice trembling with the gravity of the situation.

Otto’s voice joined hers, cold and calculated, though no less furious. “You’ve doomed us all! There’s no explaining this away. Rhaenyra will demand vengeance.”

But their words faded into the background, muffled by the roar of your own thoughts. Your body felt numb, as if the world had shifted around you and left you behind. Luke. Sweet, gentle Luke. Your little brother, who always tried so hard to prove himself, who had looked up to you with those innocent eyes.

No matter that your fathers were different—he was still your blood, your family. And now, he was gone. Taken in the most brutal way imaginable.

You shook your head slowly, your tears falling freely as your chest tightened with grief and rage. This isn’t real, you told yourself, clinging to denial even as the truth stared you in the face. This can’t be happening. Luke can’t be gone.

You forced your eyes to meet Aemond’s, your voice barely above a whisper. “He was just a boy,” you said, the words trembling with pain. “Aemond… he was just a boy. My brother.”

For a moment, Aemond’s hardened expression cracked, guilt flickering in his eye. But he didn’t speak. What could he say? What words could undo the horror of what he had done?

Your hands trembled in your lap as you tried to breathe, tried to find some semblance of control. But it was impossible. The council’s shouts, Alicent’s cries, Otto’s harsh reprimands—they all blurred together into a suffocating storm.

And in the eye of it all, you sat there, shattered and silent, the enormity of your loss weighing on you like a stone.

The room spun around you, the chaos and grief overwhelming your senses. Every sound—Alicent’s frantic cries, Otto’s cold reprimands, the murmur of the council—blurred together into a deafening roar in your mind. Your chest felt tight, your breaths shallow, as the weight of what you’d just heard bore down on you.

Luke was gone.

Your hands clutched the arms of your chair as you struggled to hold on, but your vision blurred, and the pounding in your head grew unbearable. Somewhere through the haze, you heard Aegon’s voice calling your name, laced with concern. “Love?”

You tried to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. The world tilted further, the edges of your vision going dark, until everything around you slipped away entirely.

Before your body could hit the cold stone floor, Aegon’s arms were there, catching you just in time. His voice grew more panicked as he cradled you against his chest, shaking you gently in an attempt to wake you. “Love?Wake up, please!”

The council chamber fell silent, the weight of the moment settling over everyone. Alicent rushed to your side, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch your face, her worry evident. “Call the maesters!” she commanded sharply, her voice cracking.

Aegon held you tightly, his heart pounding as he looked down at your pale face. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, his tone soft and desperate, as if trying to will you back to consciousness. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

But deep down, he knew this was just the beginning of the storm.

Aegon’s arms tightened around you as he lifted you from the chair, cradling your limp body close to his chest. His jaw was clenched, his expression a mixture of fear and anger as he looked down at you. “Out of my way!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the council chamber.

The gathered lords quickly stepped aside, startled by the king’s sudden outburst. Alicent followed closely behind, her face pale and drawn with worry. “Move!” she barked at the lingering servants in the hallway as Aegon stormed past them, his pace quick and determined.

“Love,” Aegon muttered under his breath, his voice trembling. “Stay with me. Please.” His words were more for himself than for you, a desperate plea to keep himself calm as he carried you through the winding corridors of the Red Keep.

Reaching your shared chambers, Aegon kicked the doors open with force, not waiting for the guards to assist him. He laid you gently on the bed, his hands lingering on your face as he checked for any sign of movement. “Send for the maesters!” he roared, his voice carrying through the halls.

Alicent stood at the foot of the bed, her hands clasped tightly together, her worry etched into every line of her face. “She’s overwhelmed,” Alicent said softly, trying to reassure herself as much as her son. “She’s strong, Aegon. She’ll be all right.”

But Aegon didn’t look convinced. He brushed the damp strands of hair from your face, his eyes filled with guilt and fear. “She shouldn’t have to bear this,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “None of this.”

As Alicent moved to his side, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, Aegon stayed rooted by your side, refusing to leave you for even a moment. The room was tense, silent but for the hurried footsteps of the maester approaching, as everyone waited with bated breath for you to wake.

As the maester carefully checked your condition, his face softened, his hands gentle as he examined you. After a few moments of silence, he finally looked up, relief in his eyes. "Her grace is in shock, but both she and the child are unharmed. She just needs rest.”

The words hit Aegon like a bolt of lightning, his heart suddenly racing. “A child?” he asked, his voice tight with disbelief, as if hearing it again might change the reality of it.

Alicent, standing beside him, locked eyes with him for a brief moment, her expression unreadable. She, too, seemed to absorb the weight of what the maester had said.

Aegon’s gaze shifted back to you, his heart hammering in his chest. A fourth child? The realization slowly sank in, the news stirring a mix of emotions he wasn’t sure how to handle. He hadn’t even known, and you hadn’t yet told him. His mind swirled with thoughts of what this meant—what it meant for you, for him, for the future of your family.

Alicent, ever the observer, seemed to notice Aegon’s sudden shift. “She needs rest, Aegon,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper. “All of you do.”

Aegon nodded, though his mind was far away, processing the weight of everything happening all at once. The shock of Luke’s death, your collapse, the revelation of another child—his child—swirled together in an overwhelming cloud.

He brushed a hand gently over your forehead, his fingers trembling slightly. “You never told me,” he murmured, his voice strained with a mix of concern and something deeper—something he couldn’t quite name. “But we’ll get through this together. I swear it.”

Alicent, still standing at the edge of the room, watched the two of you in silence, her eyes filled with a mixture of understanding and apprehension. She, too, understood that this moment was more than just a physical shock for you—it was the beginning of a new, complicated chapter for all of you.

Aegon stayed by your side, not wanting to leave you even for a moment, but his mind was already working—thinking of the future, of what lay ahead for your family. The revelation that you were carrying another child was unexpected, but now it was another piece of the puzzle he would have to navigate, alongside everything else.

As the hours passed, Aegon remained at your side, unwavering. He refused to leave you, even as the sounds of the bustling castle—of the council, of the kingdom—echoed in the distance. The weight of the world seemed to rest on his shoulders, but still, he stayed with you, his hand clasped around yours, never letting go.

He sat beside your bed, his eyes never straying far from your face, watching you with a mix of love and worry. His gaze was heavy with sadness, as though each second without you awake was a new weight upon his heart. The room was quiet except for the soft sound of his breathing and the occasional shift of his chair as he adjusted himself to remain close to you.

“Please wake up,” Aegon whispered, his voice soft and broken, as though speaking to you too loudly would shatter the fragile silence between you. His thumb gently stroked the back of your hand, a comforting gesture, even though his own heart felt torn in two. “I need you to be all right. We need you.”

He didn’t care about the council waiting for him, or the duties of a king that pressed on him. The majesty of the throne, the whispers of war—none of that mattered. Not when you were here, lying motionless before him. His heart ached to think of you in pain, of the turmoil inside you from the loss of Luke, and now the unexpected discovery of your pregnancy.

The news of the child, the fourth you were carrying, had brought both a strange sense of hope and a looming shadow. The uncertainty of what this meant, especially with the chaos around you, was almost too much to bear.

But he had to hold on. He had to stay strong for you. He couldn’t lose you—he couldn’t lose this child. You were his world, and even if the entire kingdom collapsed around them, he would not let go of this fleeting moment of peace with you.

He kissed your hand gently, his lips brushing against your skin, and whispered once more, his voice barely audible. “Please come back to me.”

Aegon’s refusal to leave your side was absolute, even in the face of Alicent’s urgent suggestion. Her voice, usually steady and authoritative, trembled with concern as she turned to him. “Aegon, the council is waiting. You must be there. The kingdom—your kingdom—needs you.”

But Aegon, his brow furrowed and his expression soft with worry, shook his head, his eyes not leaving you. “I can’t, Mother,” he said firmly, his voice strained. “I can’t leave her, not like this.”

Alicent hesitated, her gaze flickering between her son and you. She understood his devotion to you, but the pressure of the throne loomed large, and the weight of his responsibilities was undeniable. “Aegon, you are king now. The kingdom does not stop for anyone. You must go.”

His eyes flashed with a quiet intensity. “No. I won’t leave her side. You go. You’re the one who should be there. Lead the council, Mother.” His words were a command, but there was a softness in his tone—an undeniable plea that his family could understand. His loyalty to you, his need to be there in case you woke, was more important than any political discussion or royal decree.

Alicent stood in silence for a moment, her eyes flickering between the two of you. Her face softened, understanding the depths of her son’s emotions, even if she didn’t agree with his decision. She sighed, the burden of the crown heavy on her shoulders as she gave a small nod. “I will return shortly,” she said, her voice resigned. “But you must be strong for your people, Aegon.”

He nodded, but his focus never wavered. He turned his attention back to you, his hand still holding yours, his gaze filled with nothing but concern. The room around him, the weight of his title, the kingdom that needed him—all of that faded into the background.

In this moment, it was just you and him. And he wouldn’t leave until you were awake.

Your eyes fluttered open, the light in the room momentarily blinding as you tried to focus. The blurred shape of Aegon sitting beside you became clearer, his face pale but filled with relief. He let out a shaky breath, his shoulders slumping slightly as though the weight of the world had been lifted.

“You’re awake,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. His hand, still holding yours, tightened its grip slightly as he brought it to his lips and kissed it gently. “Thank the gods. I thought…” He trailed off, shaking his head as if to banish the thought.

“You’re going to be fine,” he assured you, his tone soft but firm. “You and… and the babe.”

At the mention of a baby, your brows furrowed, confusion flashing across your face. “B-babe?” you murmured, your voice hoarse and barely audible. Your free hand instinctively moved to your abdomen, your eyes searching his for answers.

“Yes,” Aegon said, his lips curling into a hesitant smile. “The maester confirmed it. You’re carrying our fourth child.” His tone was filled with awe, though it was tinged with a hint of worry as well.

The news left you stunned. You hadn’t known. In the chaos of recent days, you hadn’t even considered the possibility. Your heart raced as the realization sank in—another child, another life growing inside you, amidst all the turmoil surrounding your family.

Your lips parted, but no words came. Aegon leaned closer, his hand now cupping your face gently. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “You’re both safe. I’ll make sure of it.”

His words were meant to comfort, but they only brought a mix of emotions swirling inside you—joy, fear, and uncertainty, all colliding as you tried to process everything. You looked into his eyes, searching for the strength you needed, even as the storm outside these walls continued to rage.

You lay in bed beside Aegon, his arms wrapped around you tightly, almost as if he feared you might slip away. His embrace was firm yet tender, his hand possessively resting on your back while his fingers gently stroked your hair. You leaned against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a small source of comfort amidst the chaos in your mind.

Luke’s death lingered in your thoughts, the pain sharp and unrelenting. The image of your little brother, gone too soon, was something you couldn’t shake. It didn’t feel real, and yet the weight of it pressed down on you, leaving you feeling hollow. The grief was overwhelming, and now, with the shocking revelation of your pregnancy, your emotions swirled in a chaotic storm.

Aegon’s hand moved slowly through your hair, his touch soothing yet possessive, as though he wanted to shield you from the pain of the world outside. “I’m here,” he whispered softly, his voice low and filled with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You closed your eyes, tears slipping down your cheeks as you buried your face against his chest. His words were meant to comfort, but they only reminded you of the fragile reality you were living in. The man holding you was your husband, your love, but also the one who had taken your mother’s birthright and whose brother had caused the death of your own.

“I… I don’t know what to feel, Aegon,” you admitted, your voice cracking as the tears continued to fall. “Luke is gone. He’s really gone. And now this—this child. I didn’t even know. How am I supposed to face all of this?”

Aegon’s arms tightened around you protectively, his lips pressing against the top of your head. “You don’t have to face it alone,” he said firmly, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his own heart. “I’ll be here, no matter what. For you, for the baby. I swear it.”

His words were sincere, but they couldn’t erase the ache in your heart or the doubts clouding your mind. You wanted to believe him, to find solace in his presence, but the weight of everything that had happened was too much to bear. You simply stayed there, letting his warmth envelop you, holding onto the only thing that felt solid in a world that seemed to be crumbling around you.

The morning light filtered softly through the windows as you stood in front of the mirror, preparing yourself to join Aegon at the council meeting. Despite the heaviness in your heart, you knew your place as his wife, by his side, was expected of you. You adjusted your gown with trembling hands, the memory of the previous day still fresh and raw in your mind.

As you were fastening the last clasp, the door to your chambers opened, and Alicent entered. Her expression was calm but firm, her eyes filled with both concern and authority. She approached you quickly, placing a gentle hand on your arm.

“You shouldn’t push yourself, my dear,” she said softly, her tone carrying a hint of motherly care. “You need rest. The events of yesterday have already taken a toll on you, and now, with the child…”

“I’m fine, Mother,” you replied, though your voice lacked conviction. You avoided her gaze, focusing instead on smoothing the fabric of your dress. “I need to be there with Aegon. He shouldn’t face this alone.”

Alicent sighed, her grip on your arm tightening slightly. “Aegon is already at the council. They called for him early this morning. He didn’t want to wake you—he said you needed the rest.” Her expression softened, and she stepped closer. “He’s worried about you. We all are. You must take care of yourself, for your sake and the baby’s.”

Hearing that Aegon had left without saying goodbye made your chest tighten. You understood his reasons, but it didn’t lessen the sting of his absence. Still, you tried to compose yourself, turning back to Alicent with a faint, weary smile.

“I need to show my strength,” you insisted, though your voice wavered. “If I don’t stand beside him, what message does that send?”

Alicent shook her head gently, her expression firm but understanding. “Your strength is not in attending a meeting today. It’s in preserving yourself and your child. Let Aegon handle the council—he knows where your heart is. Rest, my dear. That’s an order from your mother, not the queen dowager.”

Her words left little room for argument, and though part of you wanted to resist, you found yourself nodding slowly. The weight of everything—the grief, the pregnancy, the tension between the two sides of your family—was too much to carry all at once. Perhaps Alicent was right. Perhaps rest was what you needed most.

“I’ll stay,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Alicent smiled warmly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Good. I’ll have the maester check on you later, and I’ll make sure Aegon comes to see you as soon as the meeting is done.”

With that, she guided you gently back toward the bed, her presence steady and reassuring, even as the world outside seemed to spiral further into chaos.

As Alicent’s footsteps faded away, you found yourself alone in the quiet of your chambers. The weight of her words lingered, but so did the unresolved turmoil in your heart. You turned your gaze toward the papers scattered on your desk, your thoughts drifting to your mother.

Rhaenyra.

Her name brought a pang of longing and guilt. The mother who had raised you, who had fought so hard for her family’s place in the realm, now betrayed by her own daughter—or so it must seem to her. The thought twisted painfully inside you, and you couldn’t bear it any longer.

Slowly, you sat down at your desk, pulling a fresh sheet of parchment toward you. The quill felt heavy in your hand as you dipped it into the ink, but determination settled in your heart. You couldn’t remain silent any longer.

The words came slowly at first, but as your emotions poured out, the ink flowed more freely.

Dear Mother,

I hope this letter finds you in good health, though I fear the news it carries will bring no comfort.

It pains me to write to you after so much has happened between our family. I know my decision to remain by Aegon’s side must feel like a betrayal, and I will not deny the conflict in my heart. I am torn between the love I hold for you, the loyalty I owe as your daughter, and the vows I made to my husband.

Mother, I never wished for this division. I never wanted to see our family torn apart. I thought… I hoped that my union with Aegon might bring peace, might heal the rift between us. But I see now that I was naive.

The news I must share now is unbearable: Luke… he is gone. Aemond’s actions have taken him from us. He claims it was not intentional, but the result is the same. My little brother, your son, is dead. And I… I can hardly breathe under the weight of it.

I write to you not only in grief but also in hope. Hope that you will understand the impossible position I find myself in. Hope that, despite everything, you can forgive me for the choices I have made. And hope that one day, when this storm has passed, we may find our way back to one another.

I also must tell you this—I am with child again. I did not know until yesterday, and the news has shaken me deeply. This child, born into a world divided by blood and war, is both a source of joy and fear for me.

Mother, please know that I love you. I always have, and I always will.

With all my heart,

Your daughter

You set the quill down, your hands trembling as you folded the parchment. Sealing it with wax, you hesitated for a moment before summoning a servant.

“Take this to Dragonstone,” you instructed quietly. “Deliver it to my mother.”

The servant nodded and left swiftly, leaving you alone once more. You let out a shaky breath, unsure of how your mother would receive your words—but at least now she would know your heart.

The faint sound of footsteps approaching your chambers reached your ears again. This time, as the door opened, a line of servants entered carrying trays laden with food. The aroma of freshly baked bread, roasted meats, and warm honeyed wine filled the room.

“My queen, His Grace ordered this for you,” one of the servants said, bowing respectfully.

A small smile graced your lips at the thoughtfulness of Aegon. “Thank you,” you said softly, motioning for them to set the trays on the table near your bed.

As the servants arranged the food and quietly exited, you sat down and began eating. Though your appetite had been dulled by the events of the previous day, you knew you needed to keep your strength up, especially now. The warmth of the food comforted you slightly, a reminder of Aegon’s care even in his absence.

Just as you set your cup down, the sound of laughter echoed faintly through the corridor. You froze for a moment, recognizing the familiar voices of your children—Jaehaerys, Jaehara, and Maelor.

Their carefree giggles and playful banter filled the space outside your chambers, growing louder as they neared. Despite the weight in your heart, you couldn’t help but smile. Their joy was a balm to your sorrow, a reminder of the innocence and love that still existed within your family.

The door creaked open, and the three of them peeked inside, their silver hair glinting in the morning light. Jaehaerys, the eldest, was the first to speak. “Mother! Are you feeling better?”

Jaehara quickly followed, her soft voice filled with concern. “Father told us to let you rest, but we wanted to see you.”

Before you could answer, little Maelor ran straight to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “We missed you,” he mumbled into your skirts.

Your heart swelled as you reached down to pull him into your lap, brushing his hair gently. “I missed you too,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “All of you.”

Jaehaerys and Jaehara joined Maelor by your side, each holding one of your hands. For a moment, the heaviness lifted, replaced by the warmth of their presence. You couldn’t protect Luke, but you would do everything in your power to protect them and the life growing within you.

“Are you staying with us today, Mother?” Jaehara asked hopefully.

“Yes,” you said firmly, kissing the top of her head. “I’m staying right here.”

Their smiles and laughter brought a glimmer of hope to your heart, reminding you that even in the darkest times, there was still light to hold on to.

As you held Maelor in your lap, you looked at your children, your heart full of mixed emotions. The silence lingered for a moment as they exchanged surprised glances, unsure if they had heard you correctly.

“You’re going to have another sibling?” Jaehaerys asked cautiously, his eyes wide with curiosity.

You nodded slowly, your voice soft but filled with a sense of reassurance. “Yes, I’m going to have another baby.”

There was a pause, the weight of your words hanging in the air, before Jaehaerys and Jaehara exchanged a quick glance. Then, without warning, they both burst into wide smiles, their faces lighting up with joy.

“Another sibling? Really?” Jaehara exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.

“Yes! We’re going to be a bigger family!” Jaehaerys added, excitement in his voice.

The next moment, the three of them erupted into happy laughter and cheers, their enthusiasm filling the room. “We’re going to have a little brother or sister!” Maelor shouted, his arms thrown in the air as he wiggled happily in your lap.

Their joy was infectious, and despite the heaviness in your heart, you couldn’t help but smile. The sounds of their laughter—genuine, innocent joy—warmed you, reminding you of the love that still surrounded you, even in the midst of turmoil.

Jaehaerys leaned closer, his eyes shining with excitement. “Will it be a brother or a sister, Mother?”

You chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “I don’t know yet. But either way, we’ll love them just the same.”

Jaehara nodded eagerly, her eyes full of excitement. “I hope it’s a little sister!”

Maelor, not wanting to be left out, bounced in your lap. “I want a little brother! We can play together!”

Their innocence and happiness brought a small tear to your eye, and you hugged Maelor closer to you. “I love you all so much,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

“We love you too, Mother!” they all chorused in unison, their smiles as bright as ever.

For a brief moment, the world outside your room seemed far away, and you allowed yourself to bask in the warmth of your children’s love. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew that with them by your side—and the new life growing inside you—you would find a way through.

The sound of your children’s laughter filled the room, each of them fully immersed in their play. Maelor was making his dragon toy soar through the air with dramatic flair, while Jaehaerys swung his wooden sword in a mock battle, his face set with fierce determination. Jaehara sat beside you, her beloved doll clutched tightly in her arms, smiling as she watched her brothers.

You watched them with a sense of warmth, the pure joy on their faces melting the heaviness in your chest. It was hard to believe that only a few days ago, everything had seemed so uncertain, and now—at least in this room—peace reigned.

Suddenly, your gaze shifted toward the door, where you saw Aegon standing. He looked weary, as though the weight of the day had settled heavily on his shoulders. His face was drawn, but when he heard the sound of his children’s voices calling his name, his tired expression softened into a smile.

“Father!” Jaehaerys shouted, running toward him with his wooden sword still raised. “I’m practicing to be a knight!”

Aegon knelt down as Jaehaerys reached him, his smile broadening. “A knight, huh?” he chuckled, taking the sword from his son’s hands and inspecting it. “You’ll make a fine one someday.”

Jaehara, her eyes twinkling, ran to him next, holding out her doll. “Look, Father, she’s ready for a party!” she giggled, her voice filled with excitement.

Aegon took the doll gently and placed it on his shoulder, playing along. “A very beautiful party,” he said with a smile, before looking over at Maelor, who had come running up to him.

“Maelor, what have you been up to?” Aegon asked, crouching down to his son’s level.

Maelor held up his dragon toy proudly. “It’s flying to battle, just like you!” he declared.

Aegon laughed, his hand resting on Maelor’s head. “A dragon to fight for me, huh? I think that’s exactly what I need.”

You watched the interaction, your heart swelling with a bittersweet sense of love and longing. Aegon, despite the burdens he carried as king, still found time to be present for his children, to be the father they needed.

Seeing him like this—his tiredness forgotten in the warmth of their joy—reminded you of the strength he held. No matter the troubles that weighed on your family, this moment, these small moments of peace and happiness, were worth fighting for.

Aegon glanced over at you, his smile softening as his eyes met yours. Without saying a word, he walked toward you, the children trailing behind.

“You’re awake,” he said quietly, sitting down beside you on the bed. His gaze lingered on you, tender and concerned. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright,” you replied, offering him a small smile. “Just… trying to make sense of everything.”

Aegon nodded, his expression serious for a moment before his children distracted him once again.

“Father, will you play with us?” Jaehaerys asked, his wooden sword raised high, eager for another round of pretend battle.

Aegon chuckled, his earlier exhaustion melting away at the sight of his children’s faces. “Of course,” he said, getting up to join them. “Let’s see if we can defeat the dragons together.”

You smiled softly, your heart full, watching your family in that simple, precious moment. Even in the midst of uncertainty, love had a way of grounding you. And as long as you had them—your children, your husband—you would face whatever came next together.

As the evening settled in, you gently guided your children toward their rooms, their playful energy finally starting to fade after hours of fun. The laughter and joy that had filled your chambers still echoed in your heart, but it was time for rest.

Jaehaerys, Jaehara, and Maelor walked beside you, their steps slowing as the exhaustion from the day caught up with them. You could tell that they were ready to fall asleep, their small bodies heavy with the weight of the day’s excitement.

You reached Jaehaerys’ bed first, and he climbed into bed with a yawn. “Goodnight, Mother,” he said sleepily, his eyes already half-closed.

You kissed his forehead gently, smoothing his hair back. “Goodnight, my brave knight,” you whispered. “Sleep well.”

Jaehara followed next, snuggling under her covers. “I hope my doll has sweet dreams,” she murmured, clutching the little toy you had given her.

You leaned over and kissed her forehead as well, her peaceful face making your heart swell. “Goodnight, my sweet princess,” you whispered softly, tucking the blanket around her. “May your dreams be full of joy.”

Lastly, Maelor, always the most energetic, climbed into his bed with a bright smile. “I’ll dream about dragons and knights!” he announced enthusiastically.

You leaned down and kissed the top of his head, brushing his hair away from his eyes. “Goodnight, my little dragon,” you said, your voice warm and full of love. “Dream of wonderful adventures.”

With the last kiss given and the children tucked safely in their beds, you stood for a moment, taking in the sight of them all sleeping soundly. The room was quiet, save for the soft rhythm of their breathing, and a deep sense of peace filled your heart.

As you made your way toward the door, you cast one final glance at each of them, a quiet promise in your heart to protect them and give them the love and security they deserved, no matter the turmoil surrounding your family.

You slowly closed the door behind you and made your way back to Aegon, your steps quieter now, your heart filled with a quiet strength.

The dimly lit corridor was eerily silent as you walked back toward your chambers. The soft sound of your footsteps echoed faintly against the stone walls, but there was something else—a feeling you couldn’t shake. It was as if unseen eyes were watching your every move.

You stopped abruptly, your heart racing as you turned to look behind you. The long hallway stretched empty, shrouded in shadows. There was no one there, just the cold stillness of the Red Keep. Yet, the sense of being watched didn’t fade.

A shiver ran down your spine, and unease settled heavily in your chest. You quickened your pace, your hand instinctively resting on the small bump of your stomach, as though to shield the life within you.

But just as your chambers came into view, a hand shot out from the darkness, gripping your arm tightly. You gasped, barely able to react before you were yanked back, the world around you plunging into blackness.

For a moment, there was only silence, darkness, and the cold press of fear.

Your vision blurred as you blinked repeatedly, trying to clear your thoughts. The memory of the hand pulling you into the darkness replayed in your mind, leaving a lingering chill. Slowly, your surroundings began to come into focus, and you recognized the room you were in—a room you hadn’t seen in years.

It was your old chamber in Dragonstone. The familiar scent of salt and ash filled the air, the stone walls weathered yet comforting in their simplicity. This was where you had grown up, where you had once felt safe.

Before you could process how you had come to be here, the door creaked open. Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze fell upon the two figures standing there.

Your father, Daemon, was the first to step forward, his sharp eyes scanning you with concern and a flicker of anger. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, a gesture as natural to him as breathing. Beside him stood your mother, Rhaenyra, her face a mixture of relief and worry. Her gaze softened as she took a step closer, her voice breaking the tense silence.

“My sweet girl,” she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You’re safe now.”

Your heart raced as you struggled to comprehend what was happening. “Mother? Father? How…?” you stammered, your voice barely audible.

Daemon’s lips pressed into a thin line as he spoke, his tone cold yet protective. “You were taken from under their noses. And now, you’re home.”

The realization of where you were and what they meant washed over you like a tidal wave. Home. But what did this mean for Aegon? For your children? And the precarious balance you had tried so desperately to maintain?

Your hands trembled as you looked between your parents, the weight of everything crashing down on you. “What have you done?” you whispered, fear and confusion gripping your heart.

In the early hours of the morning, Aegon awoke to find your side of the bed empty. At first, he assumed you were with the children or tending to something trivial, but as the minutes passed and you did not return, a strange unease settled over him.

He called out for you, your name echoing in the quiet chambers, but there was no response. Throwing on his robe, he strode into the corridors, his steps quick and purposeful. He headed first to the children’s chambers, thinking you might still be there.

When he entered, he found Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor sleeping soundly in their beds. His chest tightened as he quietly checked each room, hoping you might be there, but there was no sign of you.

“Where is she?” he muttered under his breath, his unease growing with every passing moment.

He summoned the guards and servants, demanding answers. “Find her,” he barked, his voice sharp with desperation. “Search every corner of the Red Keep.”

They scattered quickly, their torches flickering as they began the search. Aegon himself roamed the halls, his mind racing with fear and anger. You had been by his side just last night, safe and sound. How could you simply vanish?

By the time the sun began to rise, there was still no sign of you. Aegon returned to your chambers, pacing back and forth as his thoughts consumed him. His frustration boiled over, and he slammed a fist against the table.

“She wouldn’t leave,” he said aloud, as if trying to convince himself. “Not without the children. Not without a word.”

His mind flashed to the political tensions, the threats looming over the realm. Had someone taken you? Had his enemies dared to harm you or use you against him?

Determined and frantic, he ordered a full investigation. He would not rest until you were found. His love for you and his growing fear fueled his resolve, and he silently vowed to bring you back, no matter what it took.

Your gaze darted between your mother and father, the weight of their presence suffocating. You took a deep breath, steadying your voice as you spoke. “You shouldn’t have brought me here. This will only make things worse.”

Daemon’s jaw tightened, his piercing eyes blazing with anger. He stepped forward, his tone sharp and accusing. “Worse? Worse is watching my daughter betray her own blood! Worse is seeing the daughter I raised, the dragon I cherished, stand with the Greens and that usurper instead of her own kin!”

His words hit you like a dagger, but you stood your ground. “I did not betray you!” you shot back, your voice trembling but firm. “Do you truly think so little of me? That I would abandon you, abandon Mother, abandon my brothers? I have been there trying to stop a war, trying to make peace!”

Rhaenyra stepped forward, her expression softer but no less pained. “Peace?” she repeated, her voice laden with disbelief. “While the Greens plot against us, while they take what is rightfully mine? Tell me, daughter, how does peace look when it is built on the ashes of betrayal?”

Your heart clenched at her words, but you refused to back down. “I stayed because I believed that my presence could temper Aegon’s actions, could prevent him from making decisions that would lead to bloodshed! I stayed because I thought I could be a bridge between us, not a wedge driven deeper into the divide!”

Daemon scoffed, his expression hardening. “And what did that achieve? Lucerys is dead. Your little brother was slaughtered, and you expect me to believe you were making things better?”

The mention of Luke’s name broke something inside you, and tears welled in your eyes. “Do you think I don’t grieve him?” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Do you think I don’t feel the weight of his death every moment? I didn’t know… I didn’t know what Aemond would do."

Rhaenyra’s gaze softened slightly, but Daemon’s anger only burned brighter. “You chose them,” he hissed, stepping closer. “You chose the Greens over your mother, over your brothers. And now, you’re here, and you will stay. There is no going back to him. To them.”

His words hung heavy in the air, and you felt the ground beneath you shift. Torn between the family you were born into and the family you had built, you realized the chasm between the two had grown too wide, and you were caught in the middle, with no escape in sight.

You reached out and grasped your father’s hand, your grip trembling but firm. “Father, please,” you pleaded, your voice raw with desperation. “I can’t stay here. I can’t leave my children behind. They need me. Aegon needs me. And… I’m carrying another child.”

For a moment, you saw a flicker of hesitation in Daemon’s eyes, a brief crack in the unyielding mask of anger. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He pulled his hand away, his expression hardening further.

“It changes nothing,” he said coldly. “You think that carrying his child excuses the choices you’ve made? That it absolves you of standing with the usurper while he sits on your mother’s throne?”

“Father,” you whispered, tears spilling down your cheeks. “I didn’t choose to abandon this family. I didn’t choose for any of this to happen. But my children are innocent in all of this, and I cannot—will not—leave them.”

Daemon’s jaw clenched, his voice cutting through the room like a blade. “You speak of innocence, yet you stand by the man who let Lucerys die, who let Aemond walk free after slaughtering your brother.”

Your heart twisted in anguish. “I didn’t know,” you said, your voice breaking. “I didn’t know what Aemond would do. If I had known…”

“But you stayed,” Daemon interrupted, his voice rising. “You stayed after they crowned him. After they declared war on this family. You stayed, and now you dare to plead for mercy?”

Rhaenyra placed a hand on Daemon’s arm, her gaze locked on you. There was a trace of sorrow in her eyes, but also a determination that mirrored her husband’s. “You are my daughter,” she said softly, “and I love you. But your place is here, with your family. Not with the man who sits on my throne.”

Your legs felt weak, your heart pounding in your chest. “I can’t stay,” you whispered, shaking your head. “If you keep me here, it will only cause more pain—for everyone.”

But Daemon stepped forward, his voice final. “You are not leaving, not now, not ever. Whatever bond you think ties you to him is nothing compared to your duty to your true family. You will stay, and that is the end of it.”

The weight of his words crushed you, and you realized that no amount of pleading or reasoning would sway him. You were trapped, torn between two worlds, and there was no escape.

You sank to the cold stone floor as the sound of the lock clicking echoed through the room, sealing your fate. The tears came silently, hot and unrelenting, as you wrapped your arms around yourself, seeking comfort in your own embrace. Your trembling hands moved to your stomach, gently cradling the life growing within you.

You stroked your belly softly, your whispers barely audible in the quiet room. “I’m so sorry,” you murmured, the weight of your anguish pressing down on you. “I promised to protect all of you… I promised.”

Your thoughts drifted to Aegon, imagining him back in the Red Keep, searching for you, his frustration and worry mounting with every passing moment. You could see his face so clearly—his exhaustion, his fear for you, and the quiet tenderness he always reserved for you in private.

Would he know where you had gone? Would he realize you’d been taken?

Your tears fell harder as you thought of your children. Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor—how would they understand your sudden absence? You could almost hear Maelor’s small, confused voice asking for you, or Jaehaera clutching her doll and waiting for your goodnight kiss.

“I can’t stay here,” you whispered to yourself, your resolve hardening even as despair threatened to consume you. You couldn’t let this separation last. For your children, for your unborn baby, and for Aegon, you had to find a way back to them.

But as the cold reality of the locked door set in, you realized that escaping Dragonstone would not be easy. Trapped and isolated, all you could do for now was wait, hope, and pray that Aegon would come for you—or that you could find the strength to fight your way back to the family you had built.

In the Council Chambers, Aegon’s voice echoed through the halls as he unleashed his fury upon Ser Criston. His anger was wild and unrestrained, the sharp edge of his words cutting through the air. “You were supposed to keep her safe!” he roared, his face flushed with rage and grief. “How could you let this happen? How could she disappear under your watch?”

Ser Criston stood silent, his head bowed in shame, unable to meet the king’s tear-filled gaze. Alicent stepped forward, her voice calm but firm, trying to soothe her son. “Aegon, we will find her. I promise you—”

“No!” Aegon snapped, his voice breaking as tears streamed down his face. “You don’t understand! She’s pregnant, Mother! She’s carrying my child, and I don’t even know if she’s safe!” His hands trembled as he ran them through his hair, the weight of his fear and guilt pressing down on him.

Alicent’s face softened at his confession, her own worry deepening. “We will search every corner of the realm if we must,” she said gently. “But you must compose yourself. She needs you strong now more than ever.”

But Aegon shook his head, his shoulders slumping as the fight drained out of him. “What if she’s hurt? What if they…” He couldn’t finish the thought, the words catching in his throat. He covered his face with his hands, his body trembling with quiet sobs.

His mind raced with dark possibilities—what could have happened to you, where you could be, and why you had vanished. The thought of you being in danger, especially while carrying their fourth child, tore him apart.

“I should have been there,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice breaking under the weight of his emotions. “I should have protected her.”

Ser Criston stepped forward cautiously, his tone filled with regret. “Your Grace, I will assemble every knight, every scout. We will search until we find her.”

Aegon turned to him, his tear-streaked face filled with desperation. “Then do it. Find her. Bring her back to me. I don’t care what it takes.”

As the room fell silent, Alicent placed a comforting hand on her son’s shoulder, but he barely acknowledged her. His thoughts were consumed by you—his queen, his love, and the mother of his children. Wherever you were, Aegon vowed to find you and bring you home, no matter the cost.

Aemond stepped forward, his voice calm yet heavy with tension. “What if she was taken by the Blacks?” he said, his words cutting through the room like a blade. The suggestion hung in the air, freezing everyone in place.

Aegon’s head snapped toward Aemond, his bloodshot eyes narrowing as fury reignited within him. “What did you say?” he hissed, his voice dangerously low.

Aemond met his brother’s glare, unflinching but clearly cautious. “Think about it. Who else would dare to take her from the Red Keep? Who else has a reason to strike at you so personally? If the Blacks have her…”

Aegon surged forward, grabbing Aemond by the collar, his face mere inches from his brother’s. “If they’ve taken her,” he growled, his voice trembling with rage, “if my wife—my children’s mother—is in their hands because of this war you’ve started, I swear, Aemond, I will burn Dragonstone to the ground myself.”

Alicent quickly stepped between her sons, her hands raised in a placating gesture. “Aegon, stop this! Fighting amongst ourselves will not bring her back!”

But Aegon’s grip didn’t loosen. His mind raced with the possibility that you were with Rhaenyra and Daemon, and the thought filled him with both fear and rage. “She’s pregnant, Aemond! Do you understand what they could do to her? What they could do to my child?”

Aemond clenched his jaw, his gaze steady. “If they have her, it’s because they see her as one of them, Aegon. Not as your wife, but as their daughter. She’s still Rhaenyra’s blood, and you know Daemon will stop at nothing to bring her back to their side.”

The tension in the room was palpable, and Alicent’s voice broke through the standoff. “Enough! We need to think rationally. If she is with the Blacks, then we must act carefully. Any rash action could endanger her further.”

Aegon finally released Aemond, shoving him back with a frustrated snarl. His chest heaved with the weight of his emotions as he turned away, pacing the room. “We need to confirm it. Send spies, ravens—whatever it takes. I need to know where she is.”

Aemond nodded solemnly. “I’ll go myself if I must. I’ll bring her back.”

Aegon shot him a dark look, his voice cold. “You’ve done enough already, brother.”

The room fell into a tense silence as Aegon clenched his fists, his resolve hardening. He wouldn’t rest until he had you back, no matter what it took or who stood in his way.

As the tension in the room thickened, Otto Hightower stepped forward, his expression calculated yet calm. “Your Grace,” he began, his voice steady, “allow me to go to Dragonstone. I will speak with Rhaenyra and Daemon myself. There may still be a way to resolve this without further bloodshed.”

Aegon turned to his grandfather, his jaw tight. “You think they’ll just let her go because you ask politely? They hate us, Otto. They hate me. They’ll use her against us.”

Otto clasped his hands behind his back, his tone unwavering. “That is precisely why I must go. They may despise you, but they still see me as a voice of reason. They know I represent the council, not just you. If she is indeed with them, I may be able to negotiate her return without further provocation.”

Alicent stepped closer, her face filled with worry. “Father, are you certain this is wise? Daemon’s temper is… volatile. And Rhaenyra—”

“They are both clever enough to know that harming her would only destroy any chance of reconciliation,” Otto interrupted firmly. “Their quarrel is with the crown, not with her. If they’ve taken her, it’s because they see her as their own, as their blood. I will remind them of that bond and the risks of escalating this conflict.”

Aegon’s fists clenched at his sides. He hated the idea of relying on Otto to solve this, but he also knew the old man was right—Daemon and Rhaenyra wouldn’t be swayed by threats or force, not without endangering you.

“And if they refuse?” Aegon asked coldly, his voice laced with barely restrained anger.

Otto’s eyes hardened. “Then I will remind them of the cost of such defiance. But I will not return without an answer.”

Aegon’s gaze flickered between his mother and grandfather, his mind torn. Finally, he gave a sharp nod. “Fine. Go. But make no mistake—if they harm her, there will be no negotiations, no compromises. I will unleash the full might of the crown on them.”

Otto bowed his head slightly. “Understood, Your Grace. I will leave at first light.”

As Otto turned to make preparations, Aegon’s jaw tightened, his heart heavy with dread. He hated feeling powerless, but for now, all he could do was wait and hope that Otto’s words would be enough to bring you back safely.

You remained motionless, your eyes fixed on the vast expanse of the sea outside your window. The soft sound of the waves crashing against the rocks did little to calm the turmoil inside you. Your thoughts were tangled, your heart torn between duty, family, and the painful reality of your situation. The open door behind you didn’t make you shift, as your mind wandered to everything that had brought you here.

Then, you heard a voice—Jace’s voice—calling your name, breaking the heavy silence. You turned, and there he stood, a figure of strength and resolve, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. His presence felt like a reminder of the family you once stood with, the ones you now feared you were betraying.

“Jace…” you whispered, your voice trembling as you looked at him, unsure of how to feel. His expression was serious, but there was a softness in his eyes, a mixture of concern and determination.

He stepped forward slowly, his gaze never leaving you. “I had to see you. Are you alright?” he asked, his voice low, as if afraid that the answer might be something he didn’t want to hear.

You took a breath, feeling the weight of your own emotions pressing down on you. “I don’t know anymore, Jace. Everything is… broken. Aegon is king now, and I feel like I’m losing everything.”

Jace remained silent for a moment, his posture softening as he approached you. “I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice filled with an understanding that made your chest tighten. “I never wanted things to turn out this way. I never wanted to see you in pain.”

The words felt like a balm on a wound, though it didn’t heal the hurt inside you. You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “You never wanted it… but here we are.”

His gaze hardened, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword. “I will do whatever it takes to make this right. You don’t have to carry this burden alone.”

You turned away from him then, looking back out at the sea, unable to face him completely. The pain, the confusion, the betrayal—all of it washed over you again. “But I do carry it alone, Jace. Aegon is my husband, my family, but so is Rhaenyra, so is Daemon, and yet I stand between them. I can’t be in two places at once.”

Jace stepped closer, his voice quiet but insistent. “You don’t have to choose. You don’t have to carry this alone. We are your family, too.”

A soft sigh escaped your lips, and for a moment, you felt the burden of everything you were holding inside threaten to crush you. “I don’t know what to do anymore,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jace placed a hand on your shoulder, steady and firm. “Then let us help you. Let me help you.”

You looked into Jace’s eyes, the weight of your emotions pressing on your chest, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to feel hope. Your hand reached out, taking his in a tight grip.

“Jace… please,” you pleaded, your voice soft but desperate. “Let me go. My children need me. Aegon may be king, but they are still my flesh and blood, and I cannot stay here, torn between two worlds. I don’t want to abandon them.”

Jace stood still, his face unreadable as he listened to your words. His grip on your hand tightened slightly, but there was no answer—just silence. The weight of what you were asking hung heavily between you.

You squeezed his hand, trying to convey the depth of your plea. “I can’t lose them, Jace. I can’t lose my family… all of them. But I need to be with them. I need to protect them. Please, understand.”

He looked down at your hands, still entwined, before meeting your eyes again. His lips parted as though to speak, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. For a long moment, he simply stood there, his expression conflicted—torn between the loyalty to his family and the undeniable bond he shared with you.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. His voice was low, weighed down by a sadness you could hear, but also a hint of acceptance.

“You’re asking a lot, but… I understand,” he said quietly. “I can’t stop you. You are their mother, after all.”

You felt a surge of gratitude wash over you, mixed with the overwhelming weight of the decision you were making. “Thank you, Jace,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to betray anyone, but I can’t abandon my children. I won’t.”

Jace nodded, a pained look on his face. “I can’t promise that it will be easy. But if this is what you need to do, I won’t stand in your way.”

You gave his hand one final squeeze before letting go, turning toward the door. “I’ll leave tonight,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Before anyone notices. I’ll make sure no one comes after me.”

Jace stepped back slightly, his eyes lingering on you. “I just… want you to be safe. And for you to know that you always have a place here with us, no matter what happens.”

A lump formed in your throat as you looked back at him, the love and loyalty in his words a bittersweet comfort. “I know, Jace. I know.”

The walls of Dragonstone felt more suffocating with each passing day. It had been nearly four days since you were brought back here after your failed escape attempt. The longing for your children and Aegon was overwhelming, the ache in your chest constant. You missed their laughter, the warmth of Aegon’s presence, the way your children’s smiles could brighten even the darkest of days. The silence in your room felt like a prison, and it was all too much to bear.

Daemon had made it clear that you were not to leave the room again. His anger after your escape attempt had been fierce, and now, you felt like a captive in your own family’s stronghold. The walls that once offered you comfort now felt like they were closing in on you. No one was allowed to see you, not even Jace, who had once been your ally, your hope in the midst of this turmoil. The only thing you could hear now were the distant sounds of the sea crashing against the cliffs and the heavy footsteps of the guards stationed outside your door.

As the days dragged on, you found yourself torn between your love for your family and the crushing guilt that had taken root in your heart. You knew you had made a choice that had torn your life apart, but it was too late to turn back now. The weight of it all felt unbearable. You were stuck in a place where you were neither truly wanted nor allowed to leave.

The flickering candlelight in the corner of the room cast long shadows on the stone walls, reminding you of the isolation that had become your reality. You sat by the window, gazing out at the vast ocean below. You wondered what Aegon was doing, how he was managing without you, and if he missed you as much as you missed him.

You had to see your children again. You had to feel Aegon’s presence, to be with them. But with each failed attempt, your hope seemed to fade a little more. Would you ever escape this place, or was this to be your fate?

Your heart raced as you caught sight of the ship approaching, the green Targaryen flag fluttering in the wind. It was a symbol of your husband, Aegon, and the faintest flicker of hope ignited within you. For the first time in days, you felt the urge to break free from the suffocating walls of Dragonstone, to return to the family you missed so dearly.

You quickly made your way to the door, heart pounding in your chest. The sounds of the sea crashing against the cliffs seemed to echo in your mind as you glanced around, making sure no one was watching. Your eyes scanned the hallway, looking for a passing servant or anyone who might help you. You couldn’t stay here any longer, not when you knew Aegon was so close.

When you spotted a servant walking down the hall, you rushed to catch their attention, your voice low but urgent. “Please, help me,” you whispered, hoping they wouldn’t refuse. “I need to get to the ship. Please.”

The servant hesitated for a moment, looking around nervously as if unsure whether to help you or not. The consequences of disobeying Daemon’s orders were severe, and everyone in Dragonstone knew the danger of crossing him. But after a tense pause, the servant looked into your eyes and seemed to understand your desperation.

“Quickly, princess,” they whispered, motioning for you to follow them. “This way.”

With a final glance over your shoulder, you followed the servant through the winding halls, your steps quick but careful. Every corner you turned, every shadow you passed, made your heart race faster. The thought of being caught again was terrifying, but the sight of the ship gave you the strength to press on.

The servant led you to a secluded stairwell that would take you closer to the docks, away from Daemon’s watchful eyes. You tried to remain as quiet as possible, your breath shallow and rapid with anticipation. Once you reached the bottom, the salty sea air hit you, and you could see the ship anchored in the bay, its green flag a beacon of hope.

You were so close now, so close to freedom, but would you be able to make it before anyone noticed?

As you watched from the shadows, your heart sank a little when you didn’t see Aegon among those disembarking the ship. Otto Hightower stood tall, flanked by Ser Criston Cole and a handful of soldiers. Their movements were deliberate, their faces stern as they made their way up the stone steps leading to the castle.

Despite the pang of disappointment, your determination didn’t waver. You stayed hidden, waiting for them to ascend the stairs and disappear into Dragonstone’s looming halls. Once the coast was clear, you quietly slipped onto the ship, keeping your hood drawn tightly over your face. The familiar scent of saltwater and worn wood greeted you as you found a secluded corner to hide, heart pounding in anticipation.

Time passed agonizingly slow. The faint sound of voices and boots echoed in the distance as Otto and his men conducted their business in the castle. You stayed perfectly still, gripping the edge of your cloak as you rehearsed what you would say, how you would plead for your return. Every moment that passed felt like an eternity until finally, you heard footsteps descending the stairs.

The men returned, their conversation low but urgent. As they approached the ship, you stepped out from the shadows, pulling back your hood to reveal your face. Otto froze in his tracks, his eyes widening with shock. For a moment, he seemed to be at a loss for words. Then, relief softened his features, though it was quickly replaced by a mix of concern and calculation.

“Your Grace,” Otto said, his voice quieter than usual. He glanced at Ser Criston, who appeared equally stunned but ready to act if needed. “What are you doing here? How did you—”

“I need to leave,” you interrupted, your voice firm but laced with desperation. “I need to return to my children and my husband. Please, take me back to the Red Keep.”

Otto studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he gave a slight nod. “Very well,” he said, though there was a weight to his words. “But we must act quickly. If anyone discovers this, it could spark something far worse.”

He gestured for you to follow him, and you stepped onto the ship’s deck, your heart soaring with the realization that you were one step closer to reuniting with your family. As the crew prepared to set sail, you couldn’t help but glance back at the castle one last time, wondering if your escape would truly go unnoticed—or if the storm had only just begun.

As Dragonstone faded into the distance, the waves rocking the ship beneath you, you kept your gaze fixed on the disappearing silhouette of the castle. The dark stone towers, shrouded in mist, stood as a reminder of the chains you’d just broken free from. You placed a gentle hand on your growing belly, whispering softly to yourself, “It will be fine. We will be fine.”

But your heart was heavy with the knowledge that this escape would not go unnoticed, and the repercussions could be dire.

Back in Dragonstone, Daemon strode through the halls, his boots echoing like thunder. His face was a storm of anger and disbelief as he pushed open the door to your chamber, expecting to find you seated by the window or lying on the bed. Instead, the room was empty.

“Where is she?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. His sharp eyes darted around the chamber, landing on the untouched food tray by the table. His fists clenched as the realization hit him. “She’s gone.”

He stormed into the hallway, his voice booming as he barked orders at the nearest guards. “Find her! Search every corner of this castle! Now!”

When no sign of you was found, rage consumed him. He slammed his hand against the nearest wall, the sound reverberating through the stone halls. “She escaped,” he spat, the words laced with venom. Turning to one of the trembling guards, he hissed, “Check the shores. If she’s on a ship… gods help the fools who took her.”

Daemon’s mind raced, his anger tempered only by the icy fear that you had fled straight into the arms of the greens. For all his fury, there was an undeniable pang of pain in his chest. You were his daughter, his blood. And now you were gone.

He stalked off toward the council chambers to inform Rhaenyra, his jaw set in determination. If the greens had taken you, war was no longer on the horizon—it had already begun.

Daemon’s boots struck the stone floor with force as he stormed into the council chamber, the heavy doors slamming against the walls. Rhaenyra looked up from the head of the table, her face a mixture of surprise and irritation at the interruption.

“She’s gone,” Daemon declared, his voice a sharp blade cutting through the room’s murmured discussions.

Rhaenyra’s brows knitted together, her tone laced with both confusion and anger. “What do you mean, gone?”

Daemon took a step closer, his violet eyes blazing with fury. “She escaped. Our daughter is no longer here.”

Gasps rippled through the room as lords and knights exchanged anxious glances. Rhaenyra rose from her seat, her hands bracing the table as she leaned forward. “How could this happen? She’s been under guard!”

Daemon sneered, his frustration evident. “Otto Hightower’s visit was no coincidence. While we were distracted by his hollow words and false negotiations, she slipped away—no doubt with their help. They’ve taken her back to the greens, to her husband, and her children.”

The weight of his accusation hung heavily in the room. Rhaenyra’s expression darkened, her voice steady but cold. “If she is in the hands of Aegon, they will use her against us. This cannot stand.”

Daemon’s jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists. “I will not let her stay in their clutches. She is my daughter, our daughter. She belongs here, with her family—not with him.” His voice grew colder, and his tone more resolute. “I swear on the blood of the dragon, I will bring her back. No matter who I have to cut down to do it.”

Rhaenyra stared at him, a flicker of concern in her eyes. “Daemon, we cannot afford rash decisions. If you go charging into the lion’s den, you risk not only her safety but the lives of countless others.”

Daemon shook his head, his voice unwavering. “There is no time for caution. She is my blood, and I will not let her stay in their hands for a moment longer than necessary.”

The council fell silent as the gravity of his determination filled the room. For Daemon, this was no longer a matter of politics or alliances—it was a father’s wrath, unyielding and unstoppable.

The journey to King’s Landing had been long and arduous, each passing day weighed down by the turmoil in your heart. Your thoughts were consumed by your children, their laughter, and their innocence. And then there was Aegon—your husband, who you knew must have been consumed by worry for you.

When the Red Keep finally came into view, standing tall and formidable against the horizon, you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Relief flooded your chest. You were home.

As the ship docked and you stepped onto the stone pier, Otto turned to the guards and gave a firm order. “Take her directly to the king. He’s been waiting long enough.”

The guards nodded and flanked you on either side, guiding you toward the castle. Each step felt heavier as you approached the towering gates of the Red Keep, but the thought of seeing Aegon and your children kept you moving forward.

As you entered the familiar halls, memories of happier times flooded your mind—moments spent with Aegon, your children’s laughter echoing in the corridors. It felt like years had passed since you’d last walked these halls, though it had only been weeks.

The guards stopped in front of the doors to the royal chambers. One of them announced your arrival before pushing the doors open.

Inside, Aegon stood by the window, his posture tense as he stared out over the city. When he turned and saw you, his eyes widened in disbelief, and for a moment, it seemed as though time had stopped.

“Love,” he breathed, his voice heavy with emotion.

You took a tentative step forward, your heart aching at the sight of him. “Aegon…”

In an instant, he was across the room, pulling you into his arms. His embrace was firm and desperate, as if he feared you might vanish again. “You’re here,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “You’re safe.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you buried your face in his chest, feeling the warmth and strength of his hold. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I tried to come back sooner.”

He pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands, his gaze searching yours. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

As his lips met yours in a tender, lingering kiss, the weight of the past weeks began to lift. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to hope.

Aegon knelt before you, his hands gently resting on your waist as he pressed a kiss to your growing belly. His touch was tender, filled with reverence and relief. You ran your fingers through his hair, the softness of the gesture mirroring the smile on your lips. “I missed you so much,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

His gaze lifted to meet yours, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I missed you more,” he said softly, his voice breaking slightly. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Before you could respond, the sound of the door opening drew your attention. You turned to see Alicent standing there, her expression one of joy and relief. Behind her, your children peeked around her skirts, their faces lighting up the moment they saw you.

“Mother!” Jaehaerys called out, his voice filled with excitement as he rushed forward, followed closely by Jaehaera and little Maelor.

You opened your arms wide, kneeling slightly to welcome them into a warm embrace. “My loves,” you murmured, tears streaming down your face as their small arms wrapped tightly around you.

Alicent stepped into the room, her expression softening as she watched the reunion. “I brought them the moment I heard you’d returned,” she said gently, her voice filled with warmth.

Aegon rose to his feet, his hand resting protectively on your shoulder as he looked at his mother. “Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with gratitude.

Jaehaerys looked up at you with wide eyes, his hands clutching your gown. “Are you staying this time, Mother? You won’t leave again?”

You placed a hand on his cheek, your heart breaking at the worry in his voice. “I’m staying, my sweet boy. I promise.”

Jaehaera held onto your arm, her soft voice barely above a whisper. “We missed you so much, Mother.”

“I missed you too,” you replied, pressing a kiss to her silver hair before looking down at Maelor, who clung to your leg. “And you, my little dragon. Did you miss me?”

Maelor nodded vigorously, his bright eyes shining with tears. “I did! I did!”

Aegon knelt beside you, gathering all three children in his arms. “Our family is whole again,” he said softly, his voice filled with determination. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way.”

You leaned into him, your heart full as you looked at your children and the man you loved. For the first time in weeks, you felt at peace.

The peaceful atmosphere in the room shattered as a deafening roar echoed through the air. The sound was unmistakable—the mighty cry of Caraxes, your father’s dragon. Your heart dropped, and a chill ran down your spine as you instinctively froze, your body tensing with fear.

Aegon’s protective embrace tightened around you as he immediately recognized your unease. “What is it?” he asked, his voice urgent.

Your eyes darted to the window, the color draining from your face. “It’s Caraxes,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “It's Daemon… he’s here.”

Aegon’s jaw clenched, his gaze hardening as he rose to his feet. “He’s come to take you back,” he said with a mix of anger and determination. He turned to Alicent, who was already ushering the children toward the door.

“Take them to safety,” Aegon commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Now!”

Alicent nodded quickly, guiding the children out of the room despite their protests. “Mother! Father! What’s happening?” Jaehaerys cried, his voice filled with panic.

You knelt and hugged them tightly one last time. “It’s going to be okay,” you said, your voice trembling but steady enough to comfort them. “Stay with your grandmother. I’ll come to you soon.”

As Alicent and the children disappeared down the hall, Aegon turned back to you, his expression fierce. “I won’t let him take you,” he vowed. “Not again.”

You shook your head, your hand resting on his arm. “Aegon, please,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “This is my father. If he’s here, it’s not just to take me back. He’s ready for war.”

Before Aegon could respond, heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway, followed by the distinct clang of weapons. The door burst open, and Daemon stood there, his hand resting on the hilt of Dark Sister. His presence was commanding, his face a mask of cold fury.

“You’re coming with me,” Daemon said, his voice low but deadly. His eyes briefly flickered to Aegon, filled with disdain, before returning to you.

Aegon stepped between you and your father, his hand on Blackfyre at his side. “She’s not going anywhere,” he growled. “You’ll have to kill me first.”

Daemon’s lips curved into a menacing smirk. “If that’s what it takes,” he said, drawing his sword.

You stepped forward, placing yourself between the two men, your arms outstretched. “Stop this!” you cried, tears streaming down your face. “Please, stop! You’re going to destroy everything!”

Daemon’s eyes softened slightly as he looked at you, but his resolve remained firm. “You don’t belong here,” he said, his voice gentler now. “You’re my daughter, and you’re coming home where you’re safe.”

“This is my home!” you shouted back, your voice breaking. “My children, my husband—they’re my family too. I won’t leave them!”

Daemon’s grip on Dark Sister faltered for a moment, conflicted by your words, but his anger quickly resurfaced. “You’ve been blinded by love for the wrong side,” he spat.

The tension in the room was suffocating, and you felt torn apart, caught between the two men you loved most. “Father, please,” you begged. “I’m begging you, don’t make me choose.”

Aegon’s hand slipped into yours, squeezing it tightly. “You don’t have to choose,” he said softly, his voice steady and unwavering. “You’re staying with me.”

Daemon’s eyes narrowed, and the room seemed to freeze as everyone braced for what would happen next.

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