#i take pictures of truly everything that makes me feel a certain way and it's just so!!!! there's so much attached to my photos idk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wwinterwitch · 1 year

Text

right person, all the wrong times - anthony bridgerton

summary: you and anthony have been in love with one another from the moment you met, but it seems as though nothing will ever happen between you. after you catch the attention of another gentleman, he realizes perhaps it's time to finally do something about his feelings pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!reader word count: 7.3K tags: mutual pining, best friends to lovers, angst and fluff, period-typical topics (marriage is everything, gender roles, all that stuff), daphne being match maker as always, kissing, it gets briefly suggestive like once, if i skipped anything please let me know. note: i started this show two days ago and i'm already halfway through season 2. i couldn't hold myself from writing whatever this is and i thought i'll share since it's the longest fic i've ever written. english is not my first language so writing in a way that resembles the show was a whole challenge for me!

a reblog and/or comment really helps me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!

all masterlists | buy me a coffee

You and Anthony have been best friends for years now. Even when he's a few years older than you, the two of you became inseparable shortly after knowing one another. No one seems to know or understand you quite like he does, and you've become the person he always turns to when he needs someone.

It happened just a few months after you were introduced into society. You were lucky to bump into him that night in Ms. Danbury's ballroom, and after repeated apologies and quick introductions, you stayed with him for the rest of the event.

Your families were excited to see the two of you talking, already picturing the moment when he shows up to your house and asks for your hand in marriage. However, as time passed, it was evident for everyone that nothing was ever going to happen.

And as embarrassing as it is to admit, you were just as disappointed to realize Anthony considered you to be just a friend. From day one, you were absolutely captivated by him, and you truly thought he was as interested as you were. Unfortunately, it seems as though your feelings have never been –and never will be– reciprocated.

Of course, you never let that stop you from trying to find in others what you so effortlessly found in Anthony from the moment you laid eyes on him. It hasn't been easy, but you continue to look for that special someone.

Despite everyone knowing about your proximity to the Viscount, a fair share of suitors were always there available for you. Some move past the mere privilege of dancing with you if they prove to be interesting enough, but none of them have made it far enough.

Perhaps the search would be easier if you weren't deeply in love with your best friend, but there's no way you'll ever be able to control how you feel. You can't control the butterflies in your stomach when you notice him approaching you, or how it seems as though everyone around disappears when you two are together.

Anthony doesn't contribute to making your situation any easier. His friendship is one of the greatest gifts you've ever received, but it has caused you a great deal of pain and confusion. Even when he's nothing but your friend– even when he has confided in you many times that marriage is the last thing on his mind, you can't help but notice certain things. Certain gestures, certain stares...he has surely given you reasons to believe your feelings might be reciprocated.

One of the many things he does that inevitably lifts your hopes up is the fact that he absolutely despises every possible suitor you've ever had. Whether he claims to know them and they're the worst person imaginable, or he starts speculating based on his own prejudices, it seems as though no man is worthy of you in Anthony's eyes. You've always wondered why he's so adamant about that claim.

"There you are!" Daphne excitedly greeted you one evening at yet another social gathering. "I was afraid I'd miss the chance to spend even a moment with you tonight, considering how busy you seem to be with all your suitors," she smiles, quickly glancing across the room.

"Well, I could say the same thing. I've seen you dance for most of the night," you remark. "I bet your brother is furious."

"Oh, believe me, he is! But I'm not the only one he's concerned about," her smile only grows after her insinuation. It's no secret that Daphne has always hoped for you to officially join their family, as she's convinced her brother is ridiculously in love with you. "I was only able to escape from him because he couldn't stop telling Benedict just how awful the men you were dancing or talking to are."

"He does have that habit, yes. Poor Benedict," you joke, turning around to spot the two brothers still talking.

Before Daphne could say a thing, a man approached the two of you. As you laid eyes on him, you recognized him as the first gentleman you had a dance with tonight. Both of you smiled at him as he extended his hand your way. "May I have another dance with you, my lady?"

You look at Daphne, who quickly takes a step back to let you know you can go. He gently grabs your hand once you've accepted his invitation, guiding you to the dance floor.

Mr. Demrick is a fine gentleman. He's been nothing but kind, charming and attentive, not to mention he's ridiculously handsome. This isn't the first evening you two have crossed paths, having the honor of dancing a few times before. He seems to have a strong interest in you. Your Mama has expressed many times that it's a matter of time before he's asking for your hand.

You do, however, notice a big flaw in this seemingly perfect man. He's no Anthony Bridgerton.

And speaking of, as you're dancing with Mr. Demrick's hand on your back and the other gently holding one of your own, you can't help but notice Anthony exactly where he once was. He's already looking your way and even from a distance you notice he's as stiff as ever, arms crossed, muttering things to Benedict.

It leaves you to wonder once again if he's being protective over his friend or if there's a deeper meaning to his apparent disgust for all the men that have ever shown interest in you.

After that night, Mr. Demrick's interest in you was more evident than ever. All Daphne could talk about with Lady Bridgerton and your Mama during supper the next day was the different bouquet of flowers he sent you and how breathtakingly beautiful they were.

"Needless to say, I'm very happy for you," Daphne seems to be finished with her talk about the flowers, turning to look at you from across the table. "You two make a very lovely match."

"No doubt you'll be very happy with such a nice and handsome gentleman for a husband," Lady Bridgerton agrees.

Everyone quickly turns to look at Anthony when he lets out a quick chuckle, looking down at his food and pretending he was barely listening.

"Something wrong, Anthony?" Lady Bridgerton asks shortly after with a rather serious tone.

He finally looks up, smiling at his mother. "Not at all. Please, continue with your...delightful chat."

You glared at him and despite you trying to ignore it, something deep within you made it impossible not to say something else regarding Mr. Demrick just to upset Anthony further. "He has invited my family to a picnic to meet his own," you say, noticing the way your best friend immediately turns to look at you with a horrified expression.

"We're really looking forward to that," your mother chimes in, trying to keep the conversation going after Anthony's interruption.

"Cheers to that!" Eloise exclaimed ironically, and you noticed she was looking directly at her eldest brother. "A man brave enough to pursue the heart of a lady is always a reason to celebrate, right?"

Now it was Colin and Benedict the ones who couldn't hold back their laughter after noticing their brother's reaction to that comment.

"What's so funny?" Hyacinth asks, looking impossibly confused.

Eloise's comment evidently made everything a lot worse. Little Gregory joins his sister in their inquiry to know what was going on, until Lady Bridgerton ordered them to stay quiet.

You didn't like El's insinuation one bit, as it does nothing to help with your delusions, but at least you were appreciative of the fact that she was willing to be with you on this one despite her disgust towards the whole idea of marriage and the position a woman is put in because of it. Perhaps she's willing to overlook that detail for the sake of upsetting one of her siblings.

As soon as dinner was over, Anthony offered to accompany you and your mother outside to your carriage. You didn't protest, and quickly calmed Daphne and Lady Bridgertons worries after they started apologizing fervently for his behavior during the evening.

Anthony immediately knew you were upset. It was evident in the way you walked in complete silence without acknowledging he was there next to you.

"Can I have a word with you before you leave?" Anthony asks as soon as the three of you are outside the Bridgerton home.

"Is it okay? If you're too tired we can leave right away."

"It's perfectly fine, dear. I'll wait in the carriage," your Mama replies. "Thank you, Lord Bridgerton, but there's no need," she quickly added when Anthony offered his arm to help her walk down the steps of the entrance. "Please reiterate my gratitude to my dear Violet for having us today."

"Of course," he nodded, returning your Mama's smile. Even when he behaves rather poorly, your mother absolutely adores him. It warms your heart to see how good they get along.

Your Mama walks to the carriage, leaving you and Anthony alone. "I apologize for my behavior tonight."

"I don't think your apologies are sincere."

"I don't know what else do you expect, if I'm being honest," he replies, and immediately knows he has to say something because of your reaction to that comment. "That man is not a good match for you. He's not on your level, and I'm quite certain that he won't be able to make you happy."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Because I know you. And I know when someone is not right for you."

You scoffed. "No one ever seems to be good enough for me."

Anthony nodded. "Yes, exactly."

"Can't you just be happy for me? Or at least pretend that you are?" you ask, exasperated. It's one thing that he doesn't reciprocate your feelings, but to stand here and claim to be your best friend when he acts like this is something entirely different. Something you can't and won't stand for. "I don't understand why you have to try to ruin every chance I get to find someone."

"Because," he says sternly, as if it was obvious. But is it really that obvious? Is it obvious to you, or even to him?

A dim light of hope shines through in the depths of your heart, knowing very well how dangerous that has been in the past. "Because what?"

He stood there in front of you, looking rather troubled. You notice the way he hesitates and for a moment you almost could've sworn he wanted to take a step closer to you.

But that never happened, and instead all you got was a "because you're my best friend, and I care about you," from him. The same thing you've heard over and over. That godforsaken phrase that has shattered your heart into million pieces over the years.

You try to hide your disappointment, looking up at him with a stern glance. "If I'm truly your best friend, you'd support my decisions instead of brutally questioning them like you always do."

With that said, you didn't wait for any sort of answer as you quickly walked towards your carriage, barely acknowledging your driver and your mother as you headed back home.

Anthony watches as you walk away, once again feeling like a complete fool for not saying something else. For not daring to take that extra step and reveal the real reason why he won't accept anyone else as your husband. It's quite simple, really. The real reason is that he wants to be the one you marry.

But he didn't say anything yet again, and all that's left for him to do is go back inside his house to listen to Eloise and Daphne calling him a fool while the rest agree with them. He doesn't say much about their claims, as they couldn't possibly be more true.

This is exactly what he deserves for acting so cowardly. He gets shamed by his siblings for not doing something about his feelings while you go home, probably thinking about that absurd picnic with Mr. Demrick until you go to sleep.

Next day, you try to forget all about Anthony Bridgerton and focus on your date with Mr. Demrick. Your families were sitting around all together while he asked if you would like to take a walk with him.

He's lovely. Offering his arm for you, complimenting you every chance he gets, making you laugh with his endless anecdotes and quick remarks. He's everything you should need, yet your mind wanders back to your best friend. You can't help it. All you want is for him to be the one kissing your hand and telling you you're the most captivating sight of all.

Your Mama could barely hold her excitement when she read what Lady Whistledown had to say about you and Mr. Demrick after the families were seen spending time together. "The union of the season", she called it. And it shouldn't come as a surprise, as both of you come from wealthy and respected families. It's evident everyone takes a great interest in the possible union.

Still, you were very much intimidated by it, as all eyes will be on you until there's news about an engagement.

And just as you predicted, every lady turned to look at you as you went to visit the modist for a new dress for the next ball. You must look absolutely perfect to earn the approval of everyone and capture Mr. Demrick's heart for good.

At that point, the realization finally started to settle. You're soon becoming a wife, moving to your own home and starting a family. And all of that with a man that you respect and care for, but are incapable of loving.

But perhaps this arrangement will make your feelings for Anthony become nothing but a memory. A memory you won't even care to think about when you have such a wonderful husband by your side.

Days passed and Mr. Demrick continued to send all sorts of gifts to your house. You made the choice of inviting him over so the two of you could spend more time together before the next ball. He was sitting on a couch with your mother while you played the piano for them.

"That was certainly a very beautiful performance," he says once you're done playing. "And you said you composed that yourself?"

"Indeed. I like spending my days playing the piano," you smile brightly.

The entire reunion was quickly ruined when someone burst inside the room. You turn around in your seat to find Anthony standing there, barging in completely unannounced and unexpectedly. It was unclear to you why you felt the need to stand up from your seat to greet him but you did, feeling your heart rapidly beating in your chest at the sight of him.

Oh, how badly you've missed him.

"What are you doing here, Anthony?" you ask, immediately remembering your soon-to-be fiancée and your mother are also in the room. "I'm afraid I'm with a guest right now. Whatever it is, it'll have to wait, my lord."

You never call him that, ever. It was evident by his reaction that he absolutely hated the fact that you refer to him as such.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to disrupt, but I believe it's an urgent matter."

"My lord, I–"

"I must insist," he quickly cuts you off, looking rather desperate.

You try to come up with something to say, knowing you should stand your ground and make him leave, but you were so happy to be in his presence again that the feelings completely clouded your judgment.

"No worries, my lady," you hear Mr. Demrick say, standing up from his seat and sending you a reassuring smile. "I'm sure whatever Lord Bridgerton is here for requires your immediate attention, given his insistence," he added shortly after, giving Anthony a not so friendly look. "I'm sure we can visit the gardens while we wait?"

Your mother nodded after his question. "Of course. That should be more than enough time for Lord Bridgerton to communicate his urgent matter."

Neither Mr. Demrick nor your mother were pleased by Anthony's presence, but you couldn't thank them enough from sparing you this one time. You know this man like no one else does, and you're certain that he wouldn't take a no for an answer and that would've made the situation a lot worse.

"Perfect," Mr. Demrick says before gesturing for your mother to lead the way. Before he leaves the room, he gives Anthony one last look before turning his attention back to you. "Perhaps we should discuss where you'd like your new piano to be in our future home once I'm back. I'd love for my wife to continue doing what she enjoys, especially when she's so extraordinary at it."

You smile after his comment, trying your best not to look at Anthony until Mr. Demrick is officially gone because you can imagine his features are clearly expressing his thoughts regarding that last comment. Once both of them are out of sight, you finally look at him.

"What is wrong with you?" you snapped almost immediately. "I'm glad Mr. Demrick is a patient and understanding man! He could've easily decided to leave the very instant you walked through that door demanding to have a word with me."

"I think he's captivated enough, my dear. I doubt you'll ever get rid of him," he replies, evidently disgusted by the thought of him.

"I don't intend to get rid of him. And do not call me that again."

"Why not? I've always called you that."

"That was before I met Mr. Demrick. Now, it is completely inappropriate."

"Oh, please. It's not like you're already his wife."

"But I will be soon," you point out. He's quiet after that, which gives you room to continue talking. "You must understand that a married woman cannot have other men calling her such things."

"So am I supposed to start addressing you like you're nothing but a stranger? Or perhaps you'd like me to already start calling you Mrs. Demrick? Is that how things will go? You marry this insufferable man and I have to just accept the fact that I no longer have my best friend?"

"I don't know what else you want me to say," you mutter, feeling like you could cry any minute now. "This was going to happen sooner or later."

"It was never supposed to be this way," he sighs, and your soul aches for him when you notice the way he's looking at you. Defeated, exhausted, disappointed, frustrated. You've never seen this particular mixture of emotions reflected in his eyes before.

"And how exactly it was supposed to be?"

Anthony was quiet, too quiet for your liking. You see his hesitation once again and you brace yourself to hear yet another confirmation of the fact that you're nothing but a friend. It doesn't matter that he glances at you from across the room like he can't help himself. It doesn't matter that all the Bridgerton siblings have made insinuations about you and Anthony's relationship. It's all in your head, because you're nothing but a friend.

In a surprising turn of events, you watch as he takes a few steps closer to you. He's cautious of every move, not wanting to scare you– or himself. The beat of your heart speeds up and your hands shake slightly when he's finally in front of you.

You look up at him like a deer coming face to face with a hunter, but in this case you're unable to run away for your life. He's dangerously close to you, gently moving his hand up to touch your face.

The second his fingers brush against your cheek, a shiver travels down your spine and you can't help but close your eyes because his touch is absolutely heavenly. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat when his digits trace down your neck until his hand settles there, holding you with his fingers behind your ear and his thumb still caressing the skin of your face.

"It should go like this," he whispers, and you finally open your eyes to see him looking at you with such adoration, you were certain your legs could betray you any second now and completely give in, causing you to fall straight to the ground.

He leans slightly closer after seconds of just contemplating you, and even though you closed your eyes again, feeling his nose brushing against yours, you're able to snap out of your trance before he could actually kiss you.

"It's not right..." you're able to say, pulling back from him but not nearly enough. He's still very much holding you.

"It is, my dear. I can tell you wish for this as badly as I do."

"Please, Anthony..." you try, but your body betrays you when your hand is resting on his bicep.

"I've always adored the way my name sounds when it's you the one calling me," he confesses, and your stomach fills with butterflies.

You realize he's leaning closer again, but before he can do so you manage to gather all traces of self-control that were almost stripped from you to move back, setting free of his touch.

Anthony stands there, absolutely confused and heartbroken, and is right then when you can't keep your tears in any longer.

"I'm afraid it is too late," you mutter. This has got to be the most painful thing you'll ever have to do. "I'm getting engaged soon."

"But you're not anyone's yet. There's still time if you haven't accepted any proposals."

"Please, don't make this any harder than it should be," you sob, wiping your tears away.

"Darling–"

"Believe me, no one would want this more than me," you interrupted. "You have no idea how many times I've found myself fantasizing about this very moment. For you to say all of this, to be yours forever..." Tears continue to roll down your cheeks and the sight is too much for Anthony to endure, as his own eyes are starting to fill with tears as well. "But it is not possible anymore. I'm sorry, I really am. I won't ask you to understand or accept my decision, but I'd appreciate that you can at least respect it."

"I won't. I refuse to let you marry someone else when we both know we belong together."

"Anthony, Mr. Demrick–"

"You still can't even call your future husband by his own name?"

You sigh, frustrated. "Charlie will become my husband. I don't doubt that he'll be an excellent companion, and that you'll find someone else in time. Soon enough, we'll be nothing but a memory."

"Is that really what you want?" he asks, and your heart sinks when you notice his voice breaking slightly.

You take a few seconds to answer. Of course that's not what you want. You want Anthony to be your husband. You'll always want him and him only. But it's already too late for any of that.

Feeling more heartbroken than ever before, you have to look back at Anthony and fight the urge to run to his arms. "Yes. And I also want you to leave."

Anthony was barely keeping it together, not wanting to cry in front of you. He's once again taking a few steps closer to you, but stops at a reasonable distance to grab your hand to kiss it. "Very well, my lady," he says with a quick bow of his head. "I apologize for wasting so much of your time. Let me assure you, I'll never bother you again."

He let your hand go and immediately turned to the door to leave. As soon as you no longer hear his footsteps, you fall to your knees and allow yourself to cry, feeling like the sorrows from this conversation will haunt you for the rest of your days.

Knowing Mr. Demrick and your mother could be here any minute, you decided to stand up from the ground as soon as you could to lock yourself in your room, where you could be away from everyone for a while until you feel ready to go downstairs and pretend you're content with this life that you've chosen for yourself today.

You really know you shouldn't, as you've played a part just as big as his in the downfall of everything you could've had together, but you can't help it as you curse Anthony for taking so long. You curse him for deciding to do something about his affection for you when it's far too late. And most importantly, you curse him because despite knowing it's over, you are certain that there's nothing you can do to ever get over your feelings for him.

As soon as you realize you're being unfair by putting all the blame on him, you also curse yourself for being as blind and coward as he was. And you curse life itself while you're at it, because you feel like making everyone and everything responsible for not being able to live the life that you wanted.

―

It's been a few days after the last time you and Anthony spoke. Just days, but it has felt like years and years without him. He hasn't reached out to you, and you couldn't deny that not having him around was absolute torture. There was no greater pain than this.

But you were hopeful that you could see him again at tonight's ball. It was all you could think about as you were getting ready.

"You look lovely, sister," the youngest of your family says, watching as one of the maids is finishing with your hair. "I can't wait to join all of you next season!"

"Thank you, my dearest," you smile at her. "I cannot wait for that either. Perhaps I can help you choose your dress and do your hair for your first ball."

"Yes, please!"

Your youngest sister stayed in your room with you until it was time for everyone to leave. Your father waited by the door while your mother put all of your siblings in line to check their appearance and make sure everyone was looking flawless.

Like the Bridgertons, your family was also quite large. Your older sister is already married so she no longer lives with you, but your parents still have a handful of children to take care of. Your two older brothers haven't married yet and neither have you. There's also your little sister, who's debuting next season, and your baby brother who's barely ten years old.

To this day, you have no idea how they were able to handle the chaos that six children can bring. For that, you admire them deeply.

Once your mother made sure everything was in order, you and your brothers followed her and your father to the carriage. They start a conversation, but you're barely paying any attention, as Anthony is keeping your head occupied again.

Eventually, you reach the residence where the ball's taking place and the five of you make your way inside. As all of you are standing outside the doors of the hall where the event is taking place, you feel a hand reaching out to grab yours. You turn around to look at your mother staring at you with a sympathetic smile.

"I'm so sorry, Mama," you say out of nowhere, though it's practically the only thing you've been able to say to her lately.

"You made the right choice, dear," she reassures you. "Are you ready?"

You nod, inhaling deeply before your mother lets go of you, standing with your father as they wait for you to take the first step. As soon as all of you are entering the room, you notice everyone staring your way, their eyes still filled with expectancy and excitement.

They still believe you're going to marry Mr. Demrick.

You quickly scan the room as you walk down the stairs, the familiar feeling in your stomach appearing when you spot Anthony along with his siblings, his eyes never once leaving you. Despite everything that has happened, he still looks at you like you're the only person in that room.

Your parents go off one way to mingle with other parents attending the event while your siblings scatter around the ballroom to greet their friends and find possible matches.

Having a chance to talk to Anthony was the only reason you decided to attend. Still, you didn't know how and when it'd be okay for you to approach him. Things didn't end on the best of terms, so it's normal for you to have your doubts.

Instead of immediately approaching him, you walk around the room, never losing sight of him. You couldn't help but smile to yourself the first time you catch him looking around the room, unsuccessful to locate you.

"I was hoping to see you tonight," you hear Daphne's voice next to you, sending you back to reality. "You look as beautiful as ever."

"Thank you, so do you."

Your friend smiles at you, briefly looking to where you previously were. "Are you looking for someone?"

"No, not at all," you immediately shake your head, imitating her smile.

"I apologize for what I'm about to say. I don't believe it is the time nor place, but I cannot hold myself back," she says with obvious concern as her smile is replaced with a frown. "My brother told me everything that happened the other day. I don't think I'll ever be able to express how sorry I am."

"Oh, Daphne, that's really not necessary..."

"But I think it is. As ashamed as this makes me, I'm afraid I was the one responsible for his actions."

"What do you mean?"

"I couldn't help but notice the way you two look at each other, or the way you smile when you're together. Believe me, I've never seen my dear brother so infatuated with anyone else before. To see you slip away from him and him doing nothing about it was not only painful, but it angered me enough to intervene," she explains. "After much convincing to do, I finally made him realize he needed to do something about his feelings. Evidently, I stood out of line and got myself involved in something I never should have, and for that I'm terribly sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong. I know you had good intentions. There's absolutely nothing to forgive."

Daphne reaches out for your hands, relief evident in her features. "I was afraid you wouldn't want to talk to me again. You had all the right to do so, but I'm happy to see I was mistaken."

"I would never do such a thing."

She nodded, glad to know you two are still friends. "Well, with that situation out of the way, allow me to say I'm still very happy about you and Mr. Demrick. My love for my brother won't change the fact that I support your decision entirely."

You debated whether or not to say something, but the hesitation quickly slipped your mind when you looked at Daphne. She's been a great friend, you know there's nothing wrong with confessing this news to her.

She looks a bit confused when you grab her arm to guide her to a corner of the room, as far away from other people as possible. "I appreciate your words, but I'm afraid Mr. Demrick and I are no longer courting."

"Really? Did my imprudence make him change his mind?" she asks, worried she was to blame for this.

"Not at all. He actually proposed to me that very same evening."

"And...you said no?"

"I couldn't marry him, Daphne," you sighed. You'll never forgive yourself from breaking a good man's heart in the way you did with him, but deep down you knew it was the right thing to do. "I couldn't doom him to spend the rest of his life with a woman that doesn't love him the way he deserves."

"I don't judge you for it. My Mama has always taught us that marriage should be formed out of love. It's the only way a union like this can work," you friend offers, immediately wanting to show her support.

"If anything, my dear friend, I should be thanking you for your intervention," you quickly add. "If you never had that chat with your brother, I would've been engaged to a different man by now."

"I...Oh my, are you–?"

"I was as much of a fool as him. I could've said something a long time ago and yet I remained silent. And when he went to my house to give us a chance, I was once again deciding not to do a thing about my feelings. It was only when he left that I realized I made a terrible mistake."

Daphne is once again reaching for your hands, looking more excited than ever after your words. "You have no idea how pleased I am to hear you say all of this."

"You don't think it's too late, do you? I came here to talk to him, after all."

"No, no, not at all! He was devastated when he came back, I've never seen him like that in my life. We got to talk a little– and it's probably best if he's the one who confesses his true feelings in detail to you personally, but there's no doubt in my mind that from everything he said to me, he's deeply, madly and truly in love with you."

"I assure you I love him just as much."

"I don't doubt it either. And I think I speak for all my family when I say there's no one else we would like to be Anthony's wife but you."

"That makes me so happy to hear," you say with obvious excitement. Even Daphne looked like she could start crying any second. "Should I go talk to him now?"

"Please, I'm sure you can't wait any longer! He's over there, with Benedict and Colin."

"I shall tell you how it goes then."

"It'll go wonderful," she assures you, giving you one last smile before she allows you to leave.

Every second of that walk towards Anthony felt like centuries. Your mind spins with all the possible scenarios and everything you're going to say to him, but by the time you're in front of the three siblings your mind is completely blank.

"Gentlemen," was all you could say. The three of them immediately greet you with a quick bow. You notice Benedict and Colin exchanging looks, while Anthony's eyes are fixated on you. "I'd like to have a word with you– alone, if that's okay."

"Of course, my lady," was all he said.

"Oh my, you could cut the tension with a knife," Colin says suddenly. Anthony is so focused on you he barely acknowledges his comment.

"Shush, brother!" Benedict quickly warns, lightly pushing his little brother so he would start walking. "Excuse us," he smiled your way, starting to follow Colin.

You and Anthony are finally alone, but the people around you are still bothering you. "Is it okay if we go outside for a walk?"

"If it's okay with you," he says, a bit confused at first since you two had apparently agreed that you must keep your distance.

Anthony follows you to the gardens in complete silence. The music and chatter could still be heard. You were glad to realize it was only the two of you outside.

"What is it that you wanted to say to me?" he immediately asks, starting to walk next to you.

"I wanted to apologize for everything that happened."

"No need. Like you said, you made your choice and I'll have to respect it."

"It was the wrong choice. I see that now."

He was a bit surprised to hear that, but agreed with you nonetheless. "I'm afraid I can't say otherwise. At least I hope you find comfort in the fact that Mr. Demrick will be a fine husband, as you so fervently claim."

The two of you have reached a part of the garden that surrounds the two of you with large hedges decorated with beautiful flowers. It was then that you stopped walking and turned to look at him, knowing no one would be able to see or interrupt you here.

"I wanted to let you know that Mr. Demrick proposed and I said no," you blurted out simply, not wanting to keep it from him any longer.

"Why?" was all he could say.

"Because," you say, and this time it was painfully obvious.

Anthony couldn't believe your revelation at first, which would explain why he didn't move from his spot at first. As the realization of it all starts to sink in, he immediately walks closer to you and grabs your face with his hands. This time, you let him touch you as your hands move up to place them above his own.

"You're not marrying him?" he asks, barely above a whisper, still not entirely believing it. He really thought he had lost you forever.

You shake your head, unable to hold back your smile any longer. "There's only one man I'd like to marry."

Anthony smiles wider than ever after your comment and he's not able to control himself any longer, immediately closing the space between the two of you as he kisses you.

His kiss is everything you expected and more. So gentle, yet so passionate. It makes you feel like you're the most delicate thing in the entire world, but he must take a taste, so he does eagerly, yet carefully.

The moment doesn't last as much as you expected as he's abruptly pulling away. "Forgive me, I shouldn't have done that."

He takes a step back but he's gladly surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck to stop him. "Don't," you immediately say, "I want you close."

"I really shouldn't, my dear," he insisted, but you can tell it takes everything in him not to kiss you again at that very same moment.

"Is that so?" you tease him, inching just enough. "So you won't continue to kiss me? Not even if I'm so clearly desperate for you to do so?"

He's really trying to remind himself to be a gentleman. "I don't...it's not appropriate."

"Alright, them. It's perfectly fine, Mr. Bridgerton," you promptly agree, moving back from him entirely as you start walking away from him. "Perhaps we should go back then, before anyone notices our absence."

You're barely able to turn around to face him before he's one again in front of you, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss.

This time, the kiss is anything but gentle. His tongue explores your mouth with a hunger completely unknown to you as his hands explore your body. The hand previously holding the back of your neck trails your collarbone before it explores further down, cupping one of your breasts while the other holds you close to his body, resting dangerously close to your ass.

His lips move down to your jaw until they settle on the skin of your neck. You close your eyes as you enjoy the way he explores you, a few moans escaping past your lips that only seem to encourage him further.

"Anthony," you whisper into the darkness of the night, holding onto his shoulders for dear life while he kisses all over your neck.

"You're such a delight, my love," he mutters against your skin. "You drive me absolutely mad."

He moves back to your lips now, your mind clouded with desire for him and making it impossible for you to think of anything else other than how badly you need him to continue to touch you and kiss you. You could never get tired of this.

But much to your disappointment, he's pulling away from you again shortly after. His forehead rests against yours as both of you are gasping for air. You open your eyes when he's no longer leaning against you, just to catch him looking down at you with a smile.

"You're so beautiful," he comments, one of his fingers tracing your lower lip. "I could kiss these lips all day if I could."

"And I'd have no complaints about that."

He chuckles after your comment before taking a second to contemplate your beauty under the moonlight. "I deeply regret wasting so much time we could've spent as husband and wife."

"We have many years to make amends for that."

"Is that so?" he asks with a smile, his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close.

"Well, that is if you ask for my hand."

"We'll go back to the ball and I'll talk to your father right away."

You fake to be offended by his comment. "Without asking for my opinion on the matter, Lord Bridgerton?"

"Forgive me, how rude of me," he follows along with your theatrics, but you immediately notice the shift in his eyes before he continues. They look softer than ever and shine as bright as all the stars in the sky combined. And you feel warm, at peace, so loved by the man standing before you. "My dearest, from the moment I met you, I knew we were destined to be together. You not only captivated me with your beauty, but with everything that you are. And as I started to know you, you kept proving me right. I saw it in the way you'd stay practicing your music for hours with such intent and passion. I saw it in the way you care so deeply about the ones fortunate enough to have you in their lives. I saw it in the way my mother instantly adored you, and how Hyacinth wouldn't stop asking me to invite you over so she could play with you. There's no doubt in my mind that you are the one for me."

You were completely speechless, absolutely mesmerized by his words. He takes a moment to gently wipe a few tears falling down your cheeks. He has always said to you how he's terrible at things like this, yet here he is proving himself wrong.

"If all previous words hold any room for confusion, allow me to clear it all right away. I've been yours from the moment we met and I couldn't possibly be more in love with you. And there's nothing that would make me happier than spending the rest of my life with you," he continues, finally taking a step back to grab both of your hands as he kneels in front of you. "Would you make me the honor of accepting me as your husband?"

You couldn't stop smiling at that point, immediately nodding after his question. "Yes. Now and forever, it'll always be yes."

Anthony kisses both of your hands before standing up to pull you in for a hug. "It pleases me to hear you accept. For a moment, I feared the tears were a bad sign."

You laugh at his little joke before breaking the hug. "Perhaps we should get back. I'm afraid we've been gone for quite a while now."

"That shouldn't be much of a problem now that we're engaged. I shall ask to have a word with your father as soon as we get back– and ask my mother for her ring."

"Is it okay if I inform Daphne?"

"I have absolutely no objections if you decide to announce the news to every person inside that ballroom, my love. Let everyone know you'll be the next Viscountess. Nothing would make me happier."

He offers his arm and you immediately accept it, starting to walk back to the ball with him– your future husband. At that very moment, you've sworn you've never been happier.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x fem!reader #bridgerton tv show #anthony bridgerton angst #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton fic #bridgerton fic

3K notes · View notes

endless-ineffabilities · 10 months

Text

Maroon (part four)

modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

And I lost you The one I was dancin' with In New York, no shoes Looked up at the sky and it was maroon

themes/warnings: jealous!Aemond, language, a LOT of tension, very event-heavy

word count: 11.4k

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The Dragonstone ball is here. Will the reader and Aemond finally reconcile, or will things stand in the way? Again.

It had been eleven days of bliss.

Eleven days since Aemond visited you in the bookstore, and you found him waiting for you at the corner table, perfectly illuminated like some mythical Valyrian god.

Eleven days since he confessed his feelings for you, asked you to be his partner to the Dragonstone Ball.

Afterward, he had started picking you up from lectures, taking you to places around the city, visiting you more frequently, shadowing you when you spend time with Helaena, to which she would simply roll her eyes and jest about being a “third wheel.”

You found yourselves in their secluded estate an hour away from the city, sitting in the clearing of a beautiful lush field overgrown with blue lupines and marigolds.

By then you still had not gotten accustomed to being with Aemond. Your heart still skipped each time your hands touched, and he gazed at you with longing.

You had come to realize just how good and proper of a lover he can be. He was careful not to overstep any line, not to take things too fast. You know you’re not experienced in this kind of thing, either. A connection so real. Something like that cursed four-letter L word that the both of you had managed to avoid when it comes to crushes, dating, romantic relationships in general.

He sat on the green-and-black gingham blanket that he previously laid down on the grass in a flourish. You had giggled when the wind threatened to whip it over his head.

“Laugh it up, darling.” He playfully glared at you, which didn’t do much to quell your laughter. Aemond watched on, feeling warm at the sight.

You watched him, studying as the outline of the side of his face eclipses the sunlight in the horizon.

He has no idea, does he?

He seemed oblivious to your staring, until he suddenly spoke, still keeping his gaze trained forward to the trees, “I’m glad I have your full attention.”

You were certain all the blood rushed to your cheeks at his remark, but you scoffed, and playfully shoved him. He was caught off guard, and failed to prop himself upright in time.

He shot you a glare as he brushed himself off. Without any warning, he wiggles his fingers against your side, making you audibly yelp in surprise.

The bastard fucking tickled me.

“You did not just…”

“Oh, but I did, darling.” Aemond nodded slowly, taunting you.

You raised your hand to retaliate, but that didn’t work. Because in a flash of movement, Aemond grabbed your forearm and then your waist.

And then, you found yourself underneath him, lying back on the mat. His halo of white-gold hair framing his face as he hovers above you, glowing brighter than the fading sunlight.

When his lips met yours, you realized that there truly were moments in life when time stands still. When everything is reduced to a humming of heartbeats in sync, and of someone else's warmth against you.

When his blue eyes blazed into your own, you thought that maybe… just maybe… that was what it was like to be in love.

-----------------------

Love, love, love. What is it really good for? Aemond has seen people fall apart because of it, suffer in spite of it.

He is quite sure that his mother has grown to love his father, despite theirs being a marriage of convenience. This is why she continues to care for him, and turns her cheek at any wrong done to her.

Aemond has been on the receiving end of his mother's love, more so than his siblings. But sometimes he wonders if this is borne out of obligation and instinct. Would she still love him if he wasn't her only doting son - with Aegon never in the picture, and Daeron having grown indifferent to family affairs?

Does his mother truly see him, for all that he is, or does she see some idealized version of herself? One that she puts on a pedestal? Her golden child who has the chance to attain what she never could.

There are times when Aemond fears that he does feel love himself, or not the truest form of it, at least. Sure, he loves his family. But is it also due to an uncontrollable pull of the heart, or simply out of duty? Does he feel like he needs to love them, being of the same blood? Has he just gotten used to being the binding force among his siblings, shepherding them like he actually is the eldest child? Do they even love him in turn? Certainly not with the same ferocity, Aemond knows, but in their own way? Most times, he finds it hard to tell.

It’s all like a game. They are all pieces on a chess board, playing a match that has no end. Moves and countermoves - isn’t this all that love is? Do something for them, protect them, as they will do for you. It is ultimately the right thing to do.

But with you, Aemond knows it’s different. It has been, since you stumbled into his life. He never felt the need to maintain a sense of devotion. Never really gave it much thought, or any planning. It was just there. Out of the blue. Much to his surprise, and not without hesitation.

He did not understand what it was at first. You certainly did not need him. Did not ask anything of him. He saw how you approached him with no expectation. He was never Aemond Targaryen, Prince of the City, to you.

Only Aemond. Your best friend’s mildly sullen yet cordial brother.

And you, well… you were just a passing fancy. Not bad to look at, pleasant enough to talk to.

Until you weren’t just that.

There were times when Aemond feared that did not feel love himself.

Until you.

And you became everything.

-----------------------

3 hours before the Dragonstone ball

Alicent has been walking in a flurry all over the penthouse, her bluetooth earpiece buzzing constantly. Having final consultations with event coordinators, on-site production staff, caterers, florists, and security staff, among others.

Talia trails her all around the vast living room, prepared to give a helping hand.

“Yes, yes, that was the one that I asked for, I don’t know why I have to clarify this again,” Alicent seethes, pinching the bridge of her nose and looking up at the ceiling in her frustration. The caller’s rushed apologies echo from her earpiece.

Her youngest son walks past her, an ascot tie loosely hanging around his neck.

“Daeron!” Alicent grabs him by the arm. “Are you all settled? Have you finally gone through options with the tailor?”

“Yes, mother,” Daeron cheekily sneers at Alicent’s worried expression. “I’ve just chosen which necktie I’ll be wearing, as you can see here. Just went down to get something to eat. Do try to relax, would you?”

“What about your brother? Please tell me he has had his suit vetted.”

Daeron replies, “I assume you mean Aemond, since Aegon will probably turn up in something ridiculous, like an inflatable dragon costume.”

Alicent scoffs before responding dryly, “If he actually does that, I just might consider sending him to the Silent Sisters institute.”

Daeron shrugs, “Best keep the family doctor close by, then. Oh, and Aemond’s all prepped since last week! You know him. Mr. Stickler-for-rules with a stick right up his a - ”

“Daeron!” Alicent exclaims.

“Alright, alright, I’m kidding!” Daeron puts his hands up, laughing. He turns on his heel and strolls down the hallway.

“My children,” Alicent sighs, sharing a look with Talia, who smiles knowingly in response. “Whatever will I do with them?”

“Oh, what will you do without them, ma’am?” Talia offers.

Alicent hums in acknowledgement. She feels as if the lines on her face have deepened the past few months, though they’ve long made themselves evident, due to all her ceaseless worrying about Aemond's condition and all this commotion about the ball. But what else is there to do?

She removes her earpiece and places it on Talia’s awaiting palm.

“Are you alright, ma’am? Do you need some refreshments, perhaps?” Talia asks.

“I need…” Alicent sighs, preparing herself for the task to come. “I need to go see my son.”

“He isn’t here at the moment, ma’am.” Talia shuffles from one foot to the other, a force of habit when having to share something that may induce more stress to Alicent. “He left for his apartment at Blackwater Residences last night. He has requested that everything he needs for the ball be sent to him there.”

“And I was not informed of this because?” Alicent inquires, her mask of composure remaining. Aemond used to be the one she would run to first, should she need anything. Her confidante. Her dutiful son. And he’s always been comfortable enough to keep her in the loop about his affairs.

But not lately. Not since the accident. Her son has rebuilt the impenetrable wall around him, and she has not been allowed access inside.

“Well, you’ve been very busy, ma’am. And Sir Aemond really didn’t tell anyone, he just informed me so that I may relay the message as I should.”

Alicent sighs in finality, “Fine. That’s fine. Have we made sure that his partner for the ball is in line? That model… uhhm, Alys, was it?”

“Yes, ma’am, she has made all the necessary preparations. And she is already aware of the regulations to follow, as she has attended the ball with Sir Aemond before.”

A question remains in Alicent’s mind. “You alluded once to something going on between Aemond and Helaena’s friend. The one who’s studying at the local university? I had thought that she would be his partner…” She trails off, remembering the one time she crossed paths with you. It was one evening in the penthouse, her kids and a number of their acquaintances sitting around a big round table of drinks and hors d'oeuvres. She only came round for a moment to retrieve something from her office, lingering in the foyer with Talia to get some documents in order.

She noticed you because you were sitting across the table from Aemond, who had been sneaking looks at you the entire night. Aemond clearly thought no one would notice, but if anyone would, it would be Alicent.

Aemond has always been the most stoic of her sons, the least likely to wear his heart on his sleeve. But she saw, plain as day, that he was drawn to you.

Her son fancied you, but has something changed? As for Alys, Alicent has never been her biggest fan when it came to Aemond. Their age gap is not her favourite thing, but how can Alicent claim to be a judge on that matter when the man she married is 11 years older than her? She’s chosen to set that aside, but the Rivers model has struck her as highly self-regarding and standoffish.

Alicent would never admit it to herself, but perhaps the main reason why she dislikes Alys Rivers is that she sees part of herself in her. What she might have devolved into if she hadn’t married for power and privilege at a young age. Alicent, Alys. The latter being a recreational drug-addled, provocative social climber who Alicent doesn't think is good for her son.

Talia dithers on her response. Who can explain what is going on in Aemond’s mind after all? It is clear that the attraction remains, but his actions are all over the place. “As I gathered, ma’am, he did ask her. But… and I am not sure why, he ended up asking Miss Alys instead. Which is a downright shame, if I may add. She is really a sweet young girl. She and Miss Helaena dote on each other.”

“A shame, indeed,” Alicent hums. She begins walking down the hallway, Talia in tow, who then adds, “She will still be at the ball, though, ma’am. As Sir Jacaerys’ partner.”

Alicent’s brows furrow, and a grimace flashed across her face on instinct. “Got a Strong pup, has she?”

“They’re close friends - ”

“So I’m not certain what’s been going about, but my son likes her… or used to like her. But now he’s coming with Alys, and she’s coming with Jace?” Alicent spins on her heel, huffing out her confusion, her fiery auburn hair whipping around her. Regarding Talia whilst shaking her head, she exclaims, “Quite the handful this ball is turning out to be, and isn’t that just exactly what I need?”

-----------------------

Alys Rivers rarely does her own makeup, preferring the ease of having a glam team on call 24/7.

But as she deftly applies medical-grade concealer on Aemond’s scar, her hands pat and press with a practiced ease of someone who had to do her own makeup on public buses at the age of 16, sneaking off to castings without telling her foster parents.

She huffs with impatience from her stool. “Could you keep your expression neutral, dear? I dunno why you look like you’re in pain.”

Aemond responds in a cold voice, “Why, do you find that this is something I should enjoy, dearest? You’re smattering something on my face to make me look presentable. I’m allowed to react in a manner of my choosing. My sincere apologies if it’s not acceptable for you.”

“That’s not what I meant at all.” Alys drops her hand, frustration clear on her face. “Look, I can see that you don’t want to come to the ball.” She packs on more product on the brush in a rapid motion.

“Oh, is that your input?” Aemond mumbles, disinterested. He simply wishes he had placed his glass of firewine within reach.

“Yes, that is my input,” Alys snaps in return. When her brush meets Aemond’s face again, she does it with less care and more impatience. “If you’re not going to be civil to me, then you should have accepted the help of the makeup artist your mother assigned - ”

“I won’t have some fucking stranger’s hands all over my - ”

“I know!” Alys emphasizes, her exasperation growing evident. “Which is why I’m here. Which is why I agreed to help when you asked. I - ” She stops working, leaning back, her shoulders stooped in her frustration. “I only want to help you, Aemond. I care about you. You know this.”

Aemond finally looks at the woman sitting in front of him. Appraising her irate expression, which he had caused. “I did not want this. This… concealment of my scar was my mother’s idea, to keep up appearances - ”

“Oh, I know - ”

“I don’t know how you expect me to be, Alys, considering - ”

Alys stands abruptly, walking away to look out the window. “Aemond, this has been going on even before that godforsaken accident.”

Aemond sighs deeply, wanting to be anywhere else but in the room. Only that isn’t true, he wouldn’t want to just anywhere else.

He wants to be with you.

Alys continues, “It all started that night when I visited you and you sent me away. Next thing I know there’s been whispers of you going around with some random girl.” She does not mention you by name. It’s better not to give you that power. She doesn’t need Aemond’s attention to drift any further from her than it already has.

She has not been blind to the switch in his demeanour, having been on the brunt end of his anger one too many times. He still maintains his impeccable sense of decorum and tact most of the time, but she can easily tell that it's only for show.

She once felt Aemond’s eyes on her, with some form of desire. Whatever he is capable of mustering, at least, even if it was never enough for Alys. At least she had hope that it could turn into something more. She can change him. Make him fall in love with her. But now, it’s like he sees straight through her. Only calling on her when absolutely necessary. Like this very moment.

“Hmm.” Aemond looks to the side. He feels the weight of the product Alys just applied on his scar and it starts to irritate him. More so than the situation at hand, to his surprise. “What do you want from me?” He lifts his arms up offhandedly.

“I heard… about you and her. I’m not an idiot,” Alys says, trying not to sound desperate.

“No one ever said that you are,” Aemond responds impatiently.

“Did you ask her to come with you to the ball before you asked me? Am I just some last resort…”

“The fuck does it matter? You’re here because I asked you, did I not?” Aemond snaps, whirring around, away from Alys. The reminder of you is throwing him off, threatening to chip away at the mask of composure that he has prepared for this night.

He hasn’t been able to shake off the scent of your skin, how warm you felt against him, that night he last saw you.

And tonight, he will see you again. Aemond never fancied himself a romantic, but he knows that your presence would be the one thing that will make this night worthwhile. This dreaded ball, which he has never looked forward to. Save for a few short weeks when he thought it would be you on his arm.

But he fucked it all up, didn’t he? All because he’s too weak to let you see him as he is. He thinks he’s not good enough for you. But a part of him has always known, because of your goodness, your undeniable warmth, that you would not mind the way he is right now. You would accept the person he has become - that’s just who you are. Good.

And even then, Aemond always comes back around to the same conclusion. You’re too good for him; he’s not good enough for you. Might as well save both of you the pain, and try to stay away.

And maybe, he can use Alys as a distraction. Choosing to bring her to the ball was an act of a coward, Aemond knows. Making you feel unwanted, pushed to the side.

But this is what he deserves. The bruises on his knuckles from that incident in Pentos have only just healed, after all. He is still out of control.

He’s never been a true believer, but the gods only know what he might do when he sees you on his nephew’s arm. Just the image of it causes him to clench his jaw in distaste.

In pure jealousy.

Aemond is blind to the possibility that you and his Jace are only friends, and will stay that way. All he sees in another man, holding you, laughing with you, looking at you like you’re the best thing in this world.

Another man, and not him. Aemond is going to need a lot of ale to get through the night.

And maybe more.

Alys snaps him out of thoughts of you, walking across the room in a flash, until she stands right in front of Aemond. “Do you think you can just use me like this? I’m not second best, Aemond. You asked me to come with you, but you’re acting like you wouldn’t even touch me with a ten-foot pole.”

Aemond remains unmoving, gauging her livid expression. Calculating the next move to make. He’s found himself settling more and more into his old rhythm. Careful, methodical. Almost machiavellian. Never giving away too much. Far from how genuine he allowed himself to be around you. He did not have to pretend or mask anything. But that was then. That was with you.

“Say something, goddamnit,” Alys breathes, her slender fingers wrapping around his forearm.

Aemond’s eyes drift to Alys’ touch, feeling nothing at all. There used to be a time when he would want her company. Crave it even. Although that may have been for the most depraved purposes, one that he allows himself to indulge in now and again, it was still theirs.

Now, Aemond cannot feel right having anything with anyone else. When all he wants is you.

“I asked you to the ball because I wanted to, Alys.” Aemond relents, choosing to take the calmer road. He presses further, knowing that Alys would need more assurance than that. “You should know that I don’t trust many people, and yet here you are. That should count for something.” The sentiment is honest, at least, if not completely heartfelt.

It isn’t as if Aemond grew to have Alys as a confidante by choice. It began as a series of run-ins, then deliberate nighttime invitations.. The trust he formed with her does not mean he values her above anyone else. It was more so that he knew, even early on, that he could never be tethered to her. They had an understanding of the nature of their relationship.

He knew he would not fall in love with her. And he knows because has tried. It spares him from ever truly being vulnerable. It spares them both from any pain.

He takes her hand in his, a final gesture to temper her storm of emotion. And it’s enough. For now.

When Alys leans in to plant her mouth on his, he sees it coming. But he stops himself from taking a step back, or turning his head. He knows that Alys would not dare back out of being his partner for the ball, the publicity and prestige of it all too good to her to pass on. But he does not want to risk having the same useless argument again.

The kiss is cold, fleeting. It leaves a faint hint of maroon by the corner of Aemond’s lips. Like a mark of betrayal.

“Okay, honey.” Alys reaches upward to smooth his hair. “Let’s do some final touches on you, then I’ll go to my suite and get ready.”

Some time later, she finally reaches some satisfaction on her work on Aemond’s scar and departs the room, eager to get started on her lengthier high-profile event glam routine.

Aemond only has one consolation.

He gets to freely indulge on firewine now.

-----------------------

You sit in anticipation at the edge of the bed in your humble apartment.

Helaena had granted your request that you get ready in the confines of your own small but comfortable space, though she preferred that you take her up on her offer of getting ready in their penthouse.

You knew it was best to concede to your friend when she said she would send someone to deliver your dress and to assist you. It couldn’t hurt, you thought, half-expecting that it would only be Talia.

You didn’t expect that sending someone in Helaena’s terms would mean two makeup artists, a hair stylist and his assistant, a nail technician, and Baela Targaryen, who had quickly risen through the ranks of the fashion industry with her clothing brand, Moondancer.

Little did you know that Baela herself would be arriving at your door.

“Hello, sweetheart. I heard from a little birdie that you might need some assistance?” Baela says, stepping into your apartment without waiting for an invitation, confidently occupying any space.

“Baela!” you exclaim. “How are you? Helaena did say she would send someone.” Before you could shut the door, a garment rack comes rolling through, about a dozen designer dresses whipping right past you.

“Where to, ma’am?” A lanky man asks, his mop of ginger hair peering from behind the rack.

“Just there,” Baela gestures to a far wall, before glancing at you, as if remembering that it is in fact your apartment. “Is it fine?”

“Sure,” you smile. As if refusal was an option.

“Our dearest Helaena has informed me of your top choices,” Baela says, as her red-haired assistant began to gingerly pull each dress out from their garment covers. “And I commend your taste, by the way, most of these are my favourite pieces from the collection.”

Soon enough, all of the dresses are revealed to you, each one more beautiful than the next.

“These are all amazing, Baela. Thank you. I owe you.” you say appreciatively, pulling her into a hug.

Baela keeps an arm over your shoulders when you pull apart, leading you to take a closer look. “You don’t owe me anything, sweet. So,” she says, “what are we thinking?”

“This one seems reasonable,” your hand drifts over a plum coloured dress, the material feeling nothing short of luxurious to the touch. It is a lovely A-line maxi dress, with intricate sequin detailing all over.

“Reasonable,” Baela snorts. “It’s lovely and all, but awfully safe, don’t you think?”

“What’s wrong with being safe?” you raise an eyebrow at her statement. “This is my first and possibly only Dragonstone ball, Baela. I just want to get through it without making a fool out of myself.”

“But you won’t make a fool of yourself,” Baela squeezes your shoulder in encouragement. “You belong there just as much as anyone else. Maybe even more so, because we actually do like you. Jace especially.”

Baela has a reputation for being quite the enterprising young woman, making a name for herself outside of the Targaryen business empire through her brand. She takes no prisoners, they say. If she wants something, she will go and get it herself. Most find her intimidating, and you count yourself lucky to be at the receiving end of her sweeter side.

“Hmm,” you feel a sense of ease wash over you, making you brush through the other dresses on the rack.

“This dress you chose is nice, and if safe is what you want then…” Baela gives you a once-over, her eyes gaining a mischievous spark. “... that’s all well and good. But, sweetheart, don’t you want to leave Aemond a groveling mess by your high-heeled feet?”

Your stunned expression betrays you, hindering any attempt at denial.

“Oh, I know.” Baela smirks. “Let’s just say that Hel may or not have clued me in on how absolutely childish he was to ditch you like that. I’ve always been of the opinion that my dear cousin needs to get his damn head screwed on straight, but hey, I might be biased.” She raises her hands, knowing she already got her point across.

It won’t be long before she wins you over to a not-entirely-safe dress.

The idea of Aemond possibly exhibiting any form of adoration upon seeing you at the ball is one that you have entertained too many times in the months leading up to tonight. To deny that would be foolish.

Some part of you wants to save yourself from what can only be described as the rollercoaster of attempting to maneuver a relationship with Aemond. But an even greater part… just can’t let him go.

You sigh in finality. Baela grins at that. She clearly won this one, but there was never really any doubt.

“I’m glad you agree, because I have something for you.” She nods over to her assistant, who promptly leaves the room and returns with another dress. The dress.

“Baela, what in seven hells.” You appraised the dress with evident stars in your eyes. “This… this was not in the catalogue Hel made me choose from.”

“Of course not, silly,” Baela responds proudly. “Because I designed this just for you.”

You shake your head in amazement, lightly asking, “What if I had stuck to my first choice, huh?” You wouldn’t have, not after seeing the dress, and you know Baela is aware of this.

“Impossible,” Baela reaches for the dress and holds it against you, studying you like a subject. “I had planned to custom make dresses for the ladies in the family anyhow. Well, apart from my beloved aunt - your dearest’s mother - so making one for you too was a no-brainer.”

You thank her profusely, as she and her assistant, whom you discover is named Lancel, check how the dress fits you. Seeing if any last-minute alterations were needed, but there was really nothing else to do with it.

It was perfect.

“Lancel will stay to assist you, and Helaena’s sending a whole team, and they should be here soon.” Baela says, growing busy with her buzzing phone. “I’ll be off to prepare myself.”

“I don’t know what else to say, but thank you again, Baela. Helaena said you would be in charge of our dresses but I certainly did not expect this.” You say sincerely, as you see her to the door.

“It was my pleasure,” Baela responds, and in true fashion, drops her head in a dramatic bow. As she walks down the hall, she does not miss her chance in calling back and adding, “and it will be an even bigger pleasure to witness the absolute anguish in Aemond’s face when he sees you.”

You welcome the shiver that runs up your spine at the thought of that. That’ll show him.

As if on cue, the rest of your designated prep team arrive not long after, and you surrender yourself to the frenzy that followed.

-----------------------

The Dragonstone Ball

The Valyrian Hall is a place of marvel in the city.

Erected nearly a century to the day, it essentially marked the dominance of the Targaryen empire in the country. Designed like an amphitheatre, the looming structure has hosted many history-marking events.

As befits it, it is also the venue for the annual Dragonstone Ball. Revamped for the purposes of each ball, it transforms into a hub of merrymaking and pageantry. Its attendees include no other than the rest of the nobility, dignitaries, notable artists and academics, as well as the nouveau riche.

The country of Westeros is officially an oligarchy, with the heads of the most powerful Houses in power. But the unspoken truth of it is that the Targaryens rule over them all.

And no expense is spared by the ruling family of the country.

The media is flocked outside the hall, a thousand cameras flashing at each arriving guest. Hurling empty exclamations at the impeccably dressed attendees walking down the black carpet. The theme for this year was simple - Firelight - a play on the Targaryen and Hightower slogans, honouring the long-standing alliance between the two families. The dress code warranted only their traditional colours to be worn - red and black, green and silver.

Viserys himself was the mastermind behind the theme, in an effort to make a show of strength in the family, after the horrid incident between Aemond and Lucerys. Alicent was slow to warm to the idea, if she ever did at all.

Tensions are still high, especially between the mothers of two belligerents, with Alicent having shared unsavoury comments about Lucerys’ upbringing.

And of course, it is an open secret in this year’s event that everyone is in anticipation of finally seeing what has become of Aemond Targaryen.

-----------------------

Your reflection stares back at you, wide-eyed and beautiful, standing tall with a quiet confidence you didn’t think you could muster.

Clad in the dazzling red gown Baela crafted specifically for you, and your tresses adorned with an embellished tiara crafted by the silversmiths of Volantis, you surprisingly do not feel like a whole other person. Not exactly.

You feel more yourself than you ever had before.

“I could be a Targaryen,” you jokingly share with Jace as you both study yourselves in the mirror. “If only I had that damned silver hair.”

“Trust me when I say that it’s not as fun as people might think,” he laughs in response, catching your eyes in the reflection. “But you look beautiful, sweetheart.”

You whirl around, not even bothering to hide the blush on your face. Jace would see right through you, anyway. “And you look handsome as ever.” You take a deep breath, trying to do away with the nerves that are threatening to emerge. Calm down.

You lightly brush your hands across his shoulders. “Well, I cannot believe that I am going to the ball as the famous Jacaerys Velaryon’s date. What an honour, really. You’re practically a prince!”

“Oh, ha-ha,” he says dryly, rolling his eyes playfully. “I’m just Jace to you, thank you very much.”

“This is going to go great,” you sigh in encouragement, mostly to yourself. I’ll finally see him, won’t I? What could go wrong?

What could go wrong, indeed? How much will it string to see Alys Rivers draped on Aemond’s arm. To see them dancing with each other, barely an inch apart.

“Don’t even think about it,” Jace smooths your perfectly-done hair in reassurance. “You and I are going to enjoy this godsforsaken ball with Hel, Luke, and the rest of our friends.” Don’t even think about him, he wanted to say, but you already knew that.

He holds his arm out for you to take, indicating that it is finally time to head to the ball.

“Shall we?”

You loop your arm around his with a steady smile, bracing yourself for what would turn out to be one of the most memorable nights of your life.

-----------------------

You feel the limousine idly come to a slow stop in the private road leading to the front of the grand Valyrian Hall. All at once, everyone flocks around to catch a glimpse of whom they presume to be members of the Targaryen clan, but the security detail is quick to ensure that none may come too close. Even if it would be impossible to peer through its heavily tinted windows.

“Don’t worry, we won’t come out here.” Jace is quick to note, when he sees the apprehension on your face. “We’ll head inside to the inner courtyard.”

The yelling of photographers outside sounds like a cacophony, an endless buzzing, and you are grateful you don’t have to go right into their throes.

The limousine moves once more, presumably following the one before it, passing the towering gold palisade surrounding the hall.

“Special entrance for special guests, eh?” Jace nudges you, smirking.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” You hum in response. You try to fight it, but your mind races. Is he already here? ‘I’ll see you at the ball,’ he said. Sure. What then?

“There are still photographers and members of the media here, but only ones vetted by the family,” Jace explains. “I’ll take the lead, so you don’t have to worry about answering any questions if you don’t want to. Just stick with me.”

Ever the gentleman.

The chauffeur opens the limousine door, and Jace gently tows you along with him. When the blinding camera flashes first hit your eyes, you enter into a sort of haze. Like on autopilot, you don a practiced smile and smoothly walk with Jace down the black carpet.

Jace opts to have only one brief interview, with whom you recognize to be the prolific Mysaria, the head news anchor for the channel owned by the Targaryens.

“And who is your lovely date for this evening?” she beams, and the camera pans over to you.

“This beauty here is y/n, one of my best friends.” Jace drapes an arm around you, then smiles to the camera. You admire how flawless his media training is.

“That’s right,” you hear yourself saying, “someone needs to keep this one in line.”

Mysaria laughs, “Oooh, we love your attitude. Well, you two do make the most gorgeous pairing.”

She asks a few more questions, then the interview quickly wraps, and Mysaria shakes both of your hands in her professional manner.

Event coordinators usher the two of you inside the sprawling foyer, lush with intricate Targaryen red and black tapestry. But right as you start to appreciate the detailed engravings on the bronze panels propped up on the walls, you are directed up a flight of stairs and into a private parlour.

Your shoulders visibly slump in instant relief when you spot some familiar faces.

Helaena stands speaking to Lucerys, who incidentally is her date, as she refused to be paired with anyone unfamiliar. Luke had been gracious enough to volunteer to be her partner.

“Even if her brother and myself fucked each other over a while back, I still love Hel,” you heard him joke once, a pit of dread settling in your stomach. Leave it to Luke to be nonchalant about the whole thing.

“Look who it is,” Luke greets loudly, “my brother finally looks like an actual human being.”

“Ah, you little shit,” Jace counters, shaking his head fondly. “How’s the limp?”

“Not bad,” Luke props his right leg forward, showing off some progress.”Lucky for me, we’ll be walking at a snail's pace all throughout this bloody thing. You look stunning, by the way.” He winks at you.

“Thanks, Luke.” you smile at him. “So, what a spectacle, huh? It was crazy out there.”

Helaena wraps an arm around your waist, “If you think that was crazy, wait ‘til you enter the main hall.”

“We’ll be announced next. It’s just us left from the family, really. Everyone else has already walked down the proverbial aisle.” Luke comments, straightening his shawl lapels.

The brothers’ choice of attire contrasts yet complements the other’s, with Luke sporting a burgundy three-piece suit and a black tie, whilst Jace dons a simpler black suit and a red tie.

Helaena looks simply otherworldly in her emerald gown, representing the true Hightower heiress that she is.

“Everyone?” you exhale, the words registering. He’s already here.

“You alright? You remember everything from rehearsal?” Jace confirms with you. Yes, I remember rehearsal quite well. The one that Aemond predictably chose not to attend.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You nod, shaking away any thought of him. We’ll see each other soon enough. “Let’s get this shit done, shall we, partner?”

“You’re up next, Sir Lucerys, Miss Helaena.” The event coordinator summons the pair, directing them to stand in front of the heavy-set ornate doors.

A moment passes, then the doors open with a slow, echoing groan. Helaena shoots you one more smile as she walks through with Lucerys.

You hear the herald’s booming voice announcing their names, just as the doors close once more.

“Two more minutes of this,” Jace remarks. “Or you know, maybe ten, since my brother has to take his sweet time walking down the hall.”

“Hey,” you smack his chest, laughing, “it’s not his fault he still has a limp.”

Taking your hand, Jace leads you in front of the doors. You feel your heart pounding, as the sounds coming from the great hall are amplified.

You turn to Jace, wanting to say something, anything, to calm yourself but your mouth feels dry. “Hey,” he gently croons, coming to your rescue, his hand covering yours as you squeeze his arm, “do you see this?”

Your eyes follow as he points to the figure embossed on the large metal doors.

“It looks like… a dragon?”

“That’s right. I think you know of the myths of Old Valyria, where my family hails from. This dragon is called Balerion, the greatest and largest that my ancestors were said to have claimed.”

“Even in this form, he looks imposing,” you say, gazing at the figure, “and beautiful.”

Jace hums in agreement, adding, “You know, legend has it that Targaryens are of the blood of the dragon. That we, for lack of a better word, are dragons ourselves.”

“Hmm,” you smile at the thought, “and do you believe that?”

Jace shrugs, facing ahead, getting ready. “Why shouldn’t I believe?”

His words inspire a sense of calm, and self-assuredness, quieting your restless mind. I can do this. You hold yourself up, lips curved in a soft smile.

The doors open, revealing the revelry below.

Here we go.

-----------------------

Aemond had been eager to get through with the initial presentation, practically marching through as fast as can be allowed, with Alys clinging on his arm. He did not much care for the dissonant whispering that flooded the hall once the crowd got sight of him. Their missing Prince of the city has returned.

You would think I grew a second fucking head.

It was no use trying to drown them out, even with the orchestra resounding from the balcony.

“What happened to his eye?”

“Is that really him?”

“He looks…”

“In a rush, are we, honey?” Alys asked through gritted teeth, annoyed, but kept her signature sultry expression intact. She pulled him closer to her, “Keep pace with me now.”

When they finally reached the front of the hall, where the rest of his family assembled, he nearly took a swig out of the flask Aegon was subtly trying to hand over to him.

Until Alicent hissed at the both of them. “Not now, boys.”

The crowd continues to sneak glances at him. In awe or pity, Aemond does not care to know. With every new pairing being announced, he is grateful that their attention is momentarily diverted.

He stands tall in his midnight black formal leather overcoat, with a fitted dark green shirt underneath. His hair has grown longer since his last public appearance, and he now wears it in a half-up manner, with his eyepatch neatly in place over it.

He has come to terms with his appearance, and soon enough, he might even grow to accept the moniker Aemond One-Eye as his brother keeps calling him.

“It’s badass, Aem,” Aegon had drawled. “You look like a Valyrian dragonrider from the old stories with that scar.”

The pairings could have blurred in a haze altogether. Lannister, Arryn, Baratheon, Stark, Tully. On and on it went, but none of them left a mark on Aemond.

There is only one person he is so desperate to see.

When Lucerys Velaryon’s name is announced, Aemond can’t help the distaste he feels. He rolls his shoulders, trying to keep composure, Alys’ arm falling from him. She only regards him from the corner of her eye, likely praying that he doesn’t cause a scene and embarrass her.

He keeps his focus on his sister, as she gracefully floats through the crowd in Hightower green. Such a shame it’s that bastard she got paired with.

Helaena and her partner reach the front of the hall, and she throws him a look as if to say, behave. Aemond ducks his head in acknowledgment, lips curling.

I promise I’ll try to be good. For her sake.

To his left, he hears Helaena whisper, “Any moment now.”

Aemond knows exactly what she means, and does not feel the need to muster a response. The anticipation has devolved into some kind of torture, as all he wants to see you again.

To feel you against him, how your skin would glide smoothly against his, how you would fit together.

The effects of firewine are getting stronger, encroaching on his senses. It dawns on him that perhaps he shouldn’t have imbibed in considerable quantities before the ball, but no matter.

The herald begins his next announcement.

“Finally, let us welcome Jacaerys Velaryon, son of Laenor Velaryon…”

“More like Strong,” Aegon mumbles under his breath, but Aemond no longer pays him any mind.

“... and Rhaenyra Targaryen. With his partner…”

The herald says your name, and Aemond can practically feel his heart lodged in his throat. Keeping his arms behind his back, he adjusts his stance, trying to calm himself. He sees you emerge from the top of the steps and watches as your eyes sweep over the entire hall, and eventually, finally, meet his very own.

Aemond can hardly breathe, the blood rushing to his head at the sight of you in that red dress, making him feel all woozy. The firewine surely does not help, either.

She looks like a goddess. You walk down the hall, keeping your eyes trained ahead, hand firmly on Jacaerys’ arm. But Aemond does not spare his nephew any more than a cursory glance, almost entranced by the way your gown enhances your silhouette. By the exposed planes of your skin.

He watches your chest heave against your bodice as you take deep breaths. He knows that you would be nervous, but to your credit, nobody will be able to tell.

That’s my girl. You reach the front of the hall, joining the rest of the family and their respective partners. Your lips part slightly as you get a better look at Aemond, and he wants to know badly what you think. But then your eyes visibly narrow at something, and you turn away, walking with Jace to the other end of the group.

Aemond registers that Alys had looped her arm around his again, and he curses her internally. He can’t help the glare that he throws in her direction, but she must not see the irritation in his eyes or simply ignores it.

Alys mouths, “Have you been drinking?” with a seductive smile that does not fit her query.

Keeping up appearances, as usual.

“Some,” Aemond snaps. “Don’t let it concern you.”

The hall falls into silence as Viserys conducts his opening remarks, followed by a brief speech from his daughter and named successor, Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Soon enough, it’s time for the first dance. All of the main pairings make their way to the open floor in the middle of the hall, standing across from each other as they line up in an orderly fashion. It is the only traditional Valyrian dance of the night, for which participants were required to attend a series of rehearsals prior to the event. Aemond opted out of them this year, not that it mattered. He has long since mastered the dance, having attended every Dragonstone ball since his childhood.

He is tempted to look in your direction, but his instinct to follow tradition wins over.

Always keep your eyes trained on your partner, his mother had ingrained in him and his siblings.

That wouldn’t be a problem, if she were mine.

The dancers raise their right arms to the front, and the music starts. For Aemond, every step almost feels robotic, and his body moves on its own volition. He does not even need to think, nor does he appreciate the closeness the routine requires of the pairings.

Fuck it. At that, Aemond lets his eye wander over to you, as you twirl around with Jace a few feet away. You don’t even look at Aemond, and you shouldn’t, but it annoys him anyway.

He spins Alys around, and her back is pressed to his as they saunter from side to side.

Then you lock eyes. He notices the switch in your expression, which you quickly revert back to a fixed soft smile, but he sees it anyway.

You’re irate at me, my love. The pairings spin around again. And for good reason.

“You smell of firewine,” Alys mutters, when she draws closer.

“Well, I needed something to make this night bearable,” Aemonds responds coolly,

“Aemond,” Alys warns.

Aemond could have rolled his eyes at her reaction. Eye, he smirks at himself. “Don’t worry. It’s not you. I just dislike all this.” Surely that will get her to simmer down.

“Do you really ? Aren’t you a stickler for Valyrian tradition?”

“Hmm.” When in seven hells will this dance end?

-----------------------

When the first dance ends, you audibly breathe a sigh of relief.

It is no longer the apprehension about tripping on your feet, or doing something unbecoming of the tradition of the ball, or even forgetting a part of the dance routine that plagues your mind - all of your worries are set aside, overpowered by the rush of emotion from seeing Aemond once again.

The sight of him had been enough to drown out all the noise. Like the focal point of a kaleidoscope, your eyes sought him out when you entered the hall.

Like a moth to a flame. And he found you too.

You don’t know what else to think, apart from - He looks beautiful.

What was he even worried about? He still looks every bit like your Aemond, though you feel sorry at the now apparent loss of his eye. You know he would not desire your pity, that he would hate being on the receiving end of it from anyone. But you can’t help it.

I’m sorry this happened to you, you want to tell him. But would it even matter? Would it make a difference? Or does he already get enough consolation from the company of Alys Rivers?

Jace does not let go of your hand as you walk to the head table with the rest of the family, which is situated like a dais at the front of the hall, so that all the family members would have a full view of everything. Aemond is situated at the other end of the table with Alys, but since they are seated at the other end of the long table, as are you and Jace, they are directly in your line of sight.

The staff had distributed glasses of a deep violet wine which Jace explained is firewine, originally from Valyria. “Are you doing alright so far?” He places his hand atop yours on the table, and you hum positively in response. He does not let go, his thumb drawing soothing circles on the back of your hand.

You raise your head when Viserys addresses the hall, making the mistake of catching Aemond’s eye. You notice how tense he sits, both hands intertwined on the table, his eye trained on you. Or rather, on Jace’s hand adjoined with yours.

You shake your head slightly. He looks up at you, as if noticing the attention you are giving him. So you look away quickly, listening as Viserys makes his first toast to the hall.

“Now we drink,” Jace signals. You pick up the ornate glass and bring it to your lips, and see Aemond doing the same. He does not drop your gaze as he takes a drawn out sip, and finally lowers the glass. You catch the way his tongue flickers to taste the remnants of firewine on his lips, and you feel your cheeks flare up with warmth.

Does he know what he’s doing?

“We now invite all of you to partake in another bout of dancing, this one less stringent than the first, so there’s no need to worry. No dragon will come to smite you if you step on your partner’s toes, but my dear wife won’t hesitate to throw you out of the hall, I’m sure,” Viserys announces genially, earning some laughter from the attendees. “And shortly after, the feast will begin.”

The crowd sets into commingling. Some pairings remain together, some accept invitations from other guests. The orchestra begins to play a slower, gentler hymn. Something more intimate. Romantic.

“May I have this dance, stranger?” Jace grins at you, offering his hand.

“Well, who am I to refuse a dragon?” you quip in turn. You pass by Helaena and Luke already on the dancefloor, and Aemond and Alys…

“Hey,” Jace keeps you from finding out. He keeps a gentle hand on the small of your back, and takes your hand in the other. “Is he bothering you?”

“What?”

“Aemond,” Jace says. “I could not help but notice that my dear uncle has been practically drooling at you like some starving dog.”

“He has not,” your eyes widen at his insinuation. But he has, hasn’t he?

“Are you blind?” Jace laughs. “He’s bloody doing it right now.”

It doesn’t take long for you to find him, guiding Alys Rivers in a slow dance. And Jace is right. He may be holding her, but his focus is on you.

“You can tell that he must be so jealous right now,” Jace says. “It’s kind of funny.”

A giggle bubbles up your lips, and Jace joins you. You hold each other closer in an attempt to control your laughter. “Still,” you breathe out, finding the words. “He came here with Alys. Not me.”

Jace simply smirks at your concern. “Oh, doll. Judging by how he looks like he might commit nepoticide at any moment, I’d say you’re doing a fine job of making him pay for it.”

-----------------------

Aemond hears you laugh a few feet away, recognizing his favourite sound. It’s been too long since he last heard it. Too bad you’re sharing the moment with his Strong nephew, of all people.

The song slows to a gradual halt, but the dance is still under way. Aemond takes this as his cue to turn away from Alys, mumbling something about getting a drink.

“Wait until they’re served. You don’t just slink away searching for alcohol to drown in! This is so unlike you.” She seethes, his attitude finally getting to her.

Aemond knows this. He’s well aware that the servers will soon emerge from the corners of the hall with delicate glass flutes balanced on gold trays. He’s seen this ball play out all throughout his life.

But he is not looking for the same sweet, feeble firewine. He’d much prefer the seedier alcohol that Aegon brings around in his flask.

Alys was right. This is truly unlike him. But between the awareness of everyone scrutinizing his new appearance and seeing his nephew’s hand firmly on your waist, his only recourse is to take a book out of Aegon’s page.

And drink like a Braavosi seahorse, as they say.

You begin swaying once more, in the arms of Jace, as the music gradually rises back to a crescendo. New sets of pairings venture onto the dancefloor.

Thankfully, one of them steps in to relieve him.

“Well, if it isn’t Alys Rivers herself,” a man exclaims, then turns to Aemond. “Do you mind, sir?” He holds his hand out to Alys, standing tall like a reed, as if a stiff breeze would blow him away.

“Oh, hi.” Alys says, pleased at the attention. “Aemond, this is Harris, he’s an actor and we worked on…”

But Aemond has already stepped away, disinterested by her explanation. “By all means.”

It is clearly not the reaction Alys wanted from him, and she glares at his retreating figure. Aemond doesn’t notice, approaching his brother on the sidelines.

“Finished dancing with mommy?” Aegon sneers by way of greeting.

“Fuck off, Aegon.”

“Aw, come on.” Aegon slaps his brother on the back. “You know I'm joking. Besides, you’re doing well for your first event in a long time.”

“Well,” Aemond’s lips curl in thought. Is that how things are going? Well? I wouldn’t say so. “Hand me your flask.”

Aegon sniggers, reaching for his pocket. “Hurry while our dear mother’s not looking.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Aemond takes a long drag of the liquid, the unforgiving taste biting in his mouth. It burns a little as it goes down his throat, winding up in his core as a pit of warmth.

“Well, well. Did you lose your inhibitions along with your eye, brother?” Aegon snatches the flask back, surprised but not disappointed by this turn of events.

Perhaps.

“Look at them. Smiling at each other like that.” Aemond spits out, venom lacing his tone.

“Wha -” Aegon’s head whips around, searching. Landing on you. “Oh. I see.” His amusement flares even greater. “Someone’s bloody jealous.”

“Hmm.” Why bother denying it?

“Didn’t think you had it in you to be cuckolded by a bastard.” Aegon says, dealing an effective blow.

“Give me that,” Aemond swipes the flask once more, taking a careless swig. Intrigued whispers reach him, somewhere from behind. Or to his side, it doesn’t matter. They can say whatever they want.

He hands the flask back to his snickering brother, then goes on to claim what’s his.

-----------------------

“Nephew.”

You hear his voice, plain as day. One minute he was some distance away, then he materialised right beside you.

“Mind if I step in?” Aemond asks Jace smoothly. Politely. But his eyes betray a hint of malice. You can’t help but stare at him blankly as he offers his hand to you.

Jace doesn’t respond right away, looking to you for approval. Are you fine with this? He seems to ask with furrowed brows.

“It’s okay,” you find your voice, albeit timid and unsure.

“I won’t go too far,” Jace whispers. He lets you go, letting Aemond take over in his stead. You stand in front of each other, but you don’t dare move closer. You feel arrested in his gaze, and he doesn’t say anything for a while.

Until he takes a sure step. Then he is everywhere. His familiar scent envelops you once more. Dizzying, like a long swig of firewine. You even catch a hint of it from him. His lips curl in amusement as he sees you studying him. You take notice of his eyepatch, of the scar lingering beneath.

Aemond. Enticing as ever. Ethereal and princely in his leather garb.

Why did he ever have to hide from me?

He whispers your name, and puts both hands on the small of your back, pulling you right against him. More intimate than the stance you had with Jace.

Aemond always had a pair on him.

He does seem to be unfazed, though he surely regards how flustered you’re becoming. “Hands up on my shoulders, love.” He says, and you comply.

Then he gracefully guides you through the slow dance. How can he act like everything is normal between us? Does he expect me to just -

“You look beautiful.” Aemond says, breaking you out of your thoughts. Your eyes widen at his sentiment, and your cheeks warm. “Easily the most beautiful woman in this room.”

It’s all too much, and you have to look away. “Nice of you to say that, Aemond.”

“I mean it.”

“Sure.”

You continue with the dance, too aware of your proximity. If you lean in, you’re almost certain he’ll feel your rushing heartbeat. Maybe he already does, judging by the pleased look on his face.

“Are you… are you better now?” You ask, tentatively.

Aemond’s expression hardens, and you struggle to decipher what he could possibly be thinking.

“I wish this never happened to you,” you add, and your hand strays on its own, hovering over the side of his face. But you catch yourself, and let your hand fall just as quick.

“I know,” he says, sincerely. “I do wish I never had to be away from you.”

“But you never had to,” you respond immediately. “This wouldn’t have changed how I see you.”

“It might have,” Aemond looks away this time. “You didn’t see how I was. How I still am.”

“I don’t - ”

Aemond’s head whips back to you, leaning closer. “There’s a reason why my mother made sure I wore these bloody gloves. So we don’t give people a chance to talk about their fucking Prince of the City’s latest exploits.”

You swallow, growing concerned. “I heard about those… fights. I wasn’t sure if they were true. Nobody ever said anything.”

He shakes his head. “Oh, they are. I’m not going to lie, darling. Right now, I’m not averse to slamming Jacaerys right to the ground.”

“Aemond,” you freeze, no longer swaying to the music. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

Maybe he has changed. But did I ever truly know him? Did he really let me in?

He notices your expression fall, agonizes at the sight of you moving away from him, dropping your arm to your sides. So he pulls you in once more, holding you right against him. His leather coat is smooth against the featherlike fabric of your gown, cool against your growing warmth.

“Wait,” Aemond pleads. “Stay with me.” His hands slide upward, cradling your face. You have no choice but to look at him. Briefly, you wonder how he would appear without the eyepatch. Not that it matters. Not that he will reveal himself to you.

The song comes to a gradual halt in the background. The crowd begins to shuffle back to their tables. Some of them cast wary glances in your direction. Who is that girl with their beloved Aemond, they must wonder, and you begin to grow self-conscious.

“I want to kiss you right now, darling.” Aemond sighs, fanning your face with an exhale. Proving your assumption that he might be inebriated. Not just with wine, but something stronger.

I wish you would. “We can’t.”

“Why not?” His face scrunches in frustration, and it’s actually adorable.

“Not here. People are staring.” You clear your throat, trying to get a hold of yourself. But it doesn’t seem to matter to him.

“Let them stare.”

His gaze drifts down to your lips. His thumb flutters across, parting them just a little. Just as he had, that one night. Has it been that long?

Like a shock to your senses, you see a lithe figure in a silver slip gown walking in your direction. A vision with her cascading dark hair.

You jump back from Aemond, and he looks almost wounded.

“Enjoy your night, Aemond.” You turn away from him. “Alys.” You muster up a greeting, and the corner of her mouth lifts in a wry smile.

You walk through the crowd, your mind still on Aemond, unaware that he continues to watch you with longing, tuning out the dark-haired vixen holding on to his arm.

“You look flushed,” Aegon greets, standing with Helaena by the dais.

“I suppose it’s your fault Aemond’s drunk,” you respond, raising your eyebrow.

“He’s drunk?” Aegon exclaims, shrugging dramatically. “I swear I had no part in this.”

Helaena shakes her head, watching the exchange. “It’s a relief you didn’t decide to become an actor.”

“Hey,” Aegon grumbles, but he is clearly unaffected. “Aemond wanted to get drunk. I never could make him do anything no matter how hard I try.”

Smirking at you, he presses on. “If anything, sweet, I should be blaming you.”

-----------------------

You are seated back at the high table when Jace finally returns. But he is not alone, grinning conspiratorially with another raven-haired fellow, strapping and dignified in appearance.

You spot the wolf sigil pinned to his black tunic, and you automatically make an assumption.

This must be a Stark.

“I would like to introduce you to an old buddy of mine,” Jace smiles, confirming your thoughts. “This is Cregan Stark.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Cregan reaches you, drawing close. He smoothly takes your hand, and presses a kiss to the back as a gesture of courtesy. “A shame we didn’t meet sooner. I suppose I haven’t left Winterfell in far too long. Haven’t seen this one in a long time too.” He tilts his head in Jace’s direction, smiling. You can’t help but notice the sharpness of his canines, making him appear kind of wolflike, in line with his family symbol. “My sister Sara misses him way too much for my liking.”

At the mention of Sara, Jace’s cheeks visibly redden, and you make a mental note of teasing him about it later.

“What’s not to miss about Jace, really?” you say, taking a liking to the Stark boy’s demeanour. Sure, he holds himself with a steely confidence that befits someone of his status - much like Aemond - but he doesn’t come across as intimidating.

And, more importantly, he’s good friends with Jace, so he must be trustworthy.

“Right, you two, the feast is starting,” Jace playfully pulls Cregan away from you, who winks in your direction before hunkering off to his own table.

Jace sits down next to you, a smile still resting on his lips. When he catches you looking, you take the opportunity and say, “So, Sara Stark, huh?”

He smirks, easily countering with, “So, my uncle, huh?”

Your eyebrows raise, and you pick up the flute of wine set before you.

“Touché.”

-----------------------

Another one. Aemond has half a mind to break something when he spots the fucking Stark boy making advancements on you. Who does he think he is anyway? Does he not know that you are already spoken for?

True to form, his nephew Jacaerys only seems to be encouraging the whole thing. Bringing his two friends together.

Bastard is as bastard does.

Thankfully, there is a sudden trill sound, some chimes swinging, it doesn’t matter. The feast is being signalled to commence.

Everyone makes their way back to their tables, including bloody Cregan Stark.

Aemond is simply determined to go through the motions, and to make it to the remaining two hours of this ball. Two excruciating hours. Then he plans on taking you off somewhere, just you and him, having already considered the different outcomes in his head.

To Blackwater Residences, perhaps? But that would be a bit far away. You would be inclined to go with him, only if there would be an option to return to the ball should the need arise.

So he settles on simply pulling you away from the crowd, somewhere within the Valyrian Hall. He knows the ins and outs of the establishment quite well. So there would be no trouble getting around. To the gardens, to the balcony on the upper floor, to the private parlour?

Anywhere, anything.

“... so of course, I said yes! It’s a really good opportunity for me to finally venture into the film industry, you know. It’s something I've always wanted.” Alys prattles on, and Aemond tunes in, now and then, nodding or shaking his head as warranted. Keep her happy, and the night should flow by easily. If he plays his cards right, he should be with you soon enough.

Viserys commands the attention of the crowd, and hush falls over the feast.

He begins by thanking everyone in attendance, then goes on to make a toast for the entire city, for prosperity. And at the end, he expresses a tribute for perpetual unity among his family, the accident glazed over like a bad headline.

Like it never happened. And that is how people will see it, if that is the will of Viserys.

As per tradition, the rest of the family may take the opportunity to share a toast, should they wish.

Rhaenyra is next, and she expresses gratitude for the health of their sons.

Otto Hightower announces the predicted success of the next business venture between the Targaryen and Hightower empires, shepherded by his tireless consulting and liaising, of course.

Daeron makes a cheerful toast to his many friends, scattered across the hall in attendance.

And then, Lucerys stands, leaning against his good leg, one hand on the table for balance. He raises his hand high, and his usual impish smirk is in place. He looks around the hall, making sure to have everyone’s eyes on him.

“It's been quite the year, as we all know. I, for one, am simply grateful to still be standing here among you.”

Viserys looks to Rhaenrya, as if to question whether Luke will stray too far. The boy’s mother merely smiles stiffly, trusting her son to be prudent in his speech.

Luke does not miss a beat, continuing, “I would like us all to toast to my family, especially to my dear uncle, Aemond. Hopefully he has learned his lesson about challenging me to a race.” He adds the last thing lightly, and the crowd titters as a result.

“Alright, Luke, that’s enough.” Rhaenyra makes a hushed warning.

Luke mouths, wait, and finishes up the rest of his speech. “I would like to make a toast as well, to our dear friends and companions here at our table. To Daeron’s girlfriend, Viola. To Rhaena and her Corwyn. And to my good friend, y/n.”

Aemond’s hand clenches into a fist on the table at his nephew mentioning your name. He sees you regard Luke with surprise, not expecting this at all.

Luke finishes his toast, and in a deliberate move, he says, “Seeing as how my brother is quite taken with you, I won’t be surprised if you will be joining our family soon.”

Aemond suddenly rises from his seat, his weighty chair causing a grating noise to echo across the hall.

Luke sits back down with a triumphant sneer, having accomplished his desired result.

Aemond takes a deep breath, not saying anything for a few seconds. His features are stony and his figure taut, like a serpent ready to strike.

“Aemond,” Alicent says, worried.

Then Aemond raises his glass, a determined look on his face, his one beady eye scanning the hall. Not willing to be defeated.

“A tribute,” he begins, “to the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…”

He catches sight of you, sitting too far away, worriedly looking between himself and Jacaerys, who glares at him appalled. You shake your head at him.

This is all for you, my darling.

“...Strong.” Aemond calls to everyone. “Let us raise our cups, to these three Strong boys.”

The tension takes its toll, and despite Viserys’ best efforts, chaos ensues.

a/n

not Aemond getting wasted just to cope with the high of properly being with the reader after the longest time...

also - someone send Ewan back to Derby please. I'm serious.

Sound off in the comments! I would love to know what you guys think 🖤

Series taglist: @caught-in-the-afterglow @aemondtargaryensrider @punggo66 @dollfaceyourfear @candypurplebutterfly @moonmaiden1996 @mxrgodsstuff @lolitaisreal @blue-serendipity @melsunshine @thejanecampaign @fxngsfxgxrty @padfooteyes @msmarvel-19 @tempo-rary-fix @lauraneedstochill @julczimozart @sarcasticfangirl @witchyv @pyjama-shorts @bellaisasleep @zillahvathek @thincrusttheworks @krispold @yougotthatlove @raging-panda @fleetingly-artistic @throughgoeshamilton @polireader @katsav17 @minttea07 @kravitzwhore @meggiemay82 @hedonefox @daenysx @schniiipsel @namoreno @afro-hispwriter @aemondswifeisme @emcharra @malfoytargaryen @iiamthehybrid @fullmetalriotts @kellzlib @justsumtuffstuff @daydreamy-me @yentroucnagol @kezibear @queenofshinigamis @paprikaquinn

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen imagine #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon

530 notes · View notes

p1utofairy · 10 months

Text

PICK A CARD

“something heavenly led me to you.”

★ what will your future partner’s family & friends think of you?

DISCLAIMER: take what resonates, leave what doesn't. omg s/o to anon for requesting this — this was such a cool read so thank you for sharing this idea. enjoy bbys.

PILE 1. ❄️

how their family views you:

pile one i feel like your future partner’s mother is really going to like you! your person could come from a culturally different background, but you two just make sense together. i think that your charisma/mindset/demeanor is what initially made your person fall head over heels for you - and your charm will work just as much on their family as it does on them. their mother is going to ADORE you! omg i see the mom pulling your person aside towards the end of the evening (it looks like a dinner or a social gathering of some sort) and they whisper to them, “you picked a good one. i’m proud of you.” AWWW they have this twinkle in their eyes like they’re about to cry. you’re everything that they could’ve ever hoped/prayed for your person to bring home. you’ve got the whole package in their eyes! you might be a little shy when you first meet their family — i’m seeing you get all antsy and jittery while you’re getting ready, but your person is going to hold your hand the whole way through…you will never feel alone.

even when you’re talking to their family members, i see them keeping a gentle hand on your back or their arm resting on the back of your chair; just little gestures and signs to make you feel comfortable and secure. i don’t think they’ve ever really brought anyone home to meet their parents/family…i’m seeing that scene from ‘how to lose a guy in 10 days’ after the game of bullshit, andie is like “how many other girls have lost this game?” or something like that and ben’s mom is like “what other girls, honey? you’re the first girl he’s ever brought home.” and andie’s face drops like WHAT?!?!! lol yeah that’ll be your reaction if that ends up being the case, cause it'll just solidify how your person has never experienced something as real and beautiful as the connection they share with you.

your persons family will see that they’re making an effort with you. they may have been a bit of a player before they met you, but you unlock a different side of your partner that they’ve never seen before. they’re like “[YOUR PARTNER'S NAME]? is that you?” LOL they’ll be thoroughly shocked when they see how enraptured and affectionate they are with you. i’m hearing caught up in the rapture by anita baker mhm they loooooveeeeee you, pile 1. i’m tryna not to cry :,) but they love you so damn much it's so wholesome. every moment with them is gonna feel like you're on cloud 9 — this is a whimsical ‘once in a life time’ type of love. they would scream their love for you from the mountain tops if that's what was asked of them. you make them feel like they can do anything, and that's why their family is gonna love you so much. you bring out the best in this person, UGH. LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS.

how their friends view you:

not far off from how their family will feel about you — their friends will also approve of you! like i said before, you seriously bring out another side of your partner that they haven’t even seen before either. if anything, they feel like their friend is more motivated and less in their head about shit since you’ve come into the picture. i think your partner used to be really pessimistic and a bit of a downer when it came to love/relationships, but meeting you helped them realize that love truly is real. their friends will think that you’re very witty and knowledgeable, you may like to debate about certain topics and they’ll find it hilarious and engage with you. they may also think that you're a bit stubborn lol but ultimately you’re persuasive enough to make them see your point of view. i think they'll really like you, and they'll love how different you are from the previous love interests your person would bring around/talk about.

PILE 2. 🌬️

how their family views you:

hey pile 2! i'm ngl i'm kinda picking up on some mommy issues here? i don't think your partner has the greatest relationship with their mother. they posibly had an absent mother or their mother was very cold towards them growing up. your person had to grow up fast (they didn't have a choice) is what i'm hearing. if not that, then they might’ve grew up in a household where love and care was never displayed or given to them. your persons energy is very masculine and kind of cold.

they didn't have a stable home life growing up, so the idea of "family" is a bit foreign to them. YOU are their family, their home (ugh i'm not gonna cryyyyyy) and their light. before you came into their life, they were solely content with just being alone and doing what they wanted to do, cause they felt like nobody truly cared enough about them. damn someone was really tough on them — TW [one of their parents might've been addicted to drugs/alcohol/abusive] i'm sensing a feeling of neglect from your person's childhood.

their father may have raised them or an older brother or an uncle…idk there's an important masculine figure in their life that tries to help them navigate through life. this male figure will approve of you and this relationship — this is the first time in forever that they've actually seen your partner truly happy. they know what this person’s been through, and how much their trauma has held them back from positive experiences; but again, you’re the light in their life. love by musiq soulchild is playing, “through all the ups and downs the joy and hurt…love. for better or worse i still will choose you first.” your person will take this leap of faith and take a chance on this connection…that's how deep their emotions run for you.

it's gonna take everything in them not to self-sabotage due to their trauma, but this masculine figure in their life is going to have a talk with them and really make them think about what they’d be giving up if they were to let you go. after this conversation they're going to realize how much you mean to them and how they can't imagine a world without you being by their side — they're gonna put a ring on it. YUP PILE 2. you heal this person in so many ways that i can't even fully express. they’re always learning something new from you and they see you as such a positive influence in their life.

how their friends view you:

their friends know how much they've been through, and how hard it was for your person to get close to anyone platonically let alone romantically. so you coming into your partner's life will be an absolute shock to them, but they'll be super appreciative of you! they see the passion and happiness you ignite in their friend, pile 2. they'll think you're an absolute gem. they'll be happy that you two are together and i see them clowning their friend (all in good humor) about how sprung you got them lol this is so light-hearted compared to their family dynamic. your partner’s friends really became their family — they were right there in their time of need. i feel like you and their friend group will mesh together so well.

PILE 3. ☃️

how their family views you:

seeing how tight knit this person is with their family might be a bit intimidating at first, pile 3. you're gonna be in your head like "omg will they like me? will i fit in?" their family dynamic might differ from yours in terms of how they talk/interact/express themselves — you might be used to sitting back and keeping to yourself during family events. you're not loud or overly expressive when communicating with/around your family, so seeing how boisterous and animated this person and their family members can be will catch you off guard.

i'm seeing that they might be big football fans or something of that nature where they’ll host a party/gathering and have drinks, food, entertainment — i'm getting a lot of fun and playful energy from your persons family! they'll see that you naturally keep to yourself, but that won't stop them from encouraging you to join the festivities and make you feel welcomed. i see you joining them on a lot of trips, vacations, gatherings, parties, etc. you're gonna have a ball with your future partner's family. you’ll love to see your partner in their element…that’s what’s going to make you want to open up and join in with them.

your future partner’s family will think that you have a great head on your shoulders, and they’ll truly see how much you’ve ground your partner. your person is naturally funny and flirty (they could possibly be an air sign) but their family will notice a newfound sense of maturity about them. i can hear them asking your partner, "when are you ever going to grow up?” lol they are just full of so much energy and they're playful at heart.

they operate a lot from their inner child and that's what will make you fall for them. you are rigid when it comes to letting your hair down, and just doing whatever you want whenever you want. however, your person has mastered the concept of spontaneity! they love doing things on the whim and just saying “FUCK IT, WE BALL!!!" i mean don't get me wrong they can be practical and level-headed, but they also want to be happy and allow themselves to experience the joys in life.

random but they might love ‘the dark knight’ movie and quote the joker a lot cause i'm hearing “why so serious?” lol your person is a goofball…it's so cute and it also makes sense, because their family is so down to earth and ‘go with the flow’ type of people. their family will feel like you’re a great addition to the family, and they’ll feel so proud that your partner found someone like you.

how their friends view you:

your partner’s friends are gonna feel like you’re hot as fuck? uh OKAY then! you def are attractive af pile 3 but damn someone in this friend group might be plottin' frfr uhm. i'm feeling like this is one specific friend…the rest of their friends are gonna be happy about this relationship but this specific person is giving off weird vibes 😬 like i can see you and your partner sitting on the couch all close and cuddly, in y’alls own little cutesy bubble, and this person is watching y'all from a distance thinking to themselves that should be me like WHAT?! this specific friend feels like you're a rare catch…they are giving off immature vibes ugh they could be younger than your partner or just really really childish i don't like it. they definitely want your person to fumble but guess what — that's not happening! your person will come to see them for who they truly are and they will cut them off expeditiously LOL GOOD RIDDANCE. you and your future partner's relationship will prevail and the foundation you two are building together will remain solid.

#pick a card #pac #pick a pile #p1utofairy #tarot reading #pick a card reading

681 notes · View notes

ilikeredcars · 11 months

Text

Two hearts, one love

Charles Leclerc x Wife!Reader

Summary: Formula's one cutest couple also happens to be between a reporter and a certain pilot in red

Warnings: Broken bone (leg)

An: Hiiiiii!! I'm very very proud of this work (so if you don't like it pls don't tell me 😌) anywhoss, just remembering yall that I'm brazilian so English is not my first language, that means you have to forgive me if I make any mistakes LOL, ENJOYYY!

Being a reporter for Formula One truly isn't easy, but you love it and always did. You were indeed always fascinated by all the cars, drivers, teams and everything that had to do with the sport, so it wasn't surprising to anyone when you graduated college and soon got a job as a reporter to a highly successful TV channel. Your job was great, you could do together the two things you loved most, work for TV and Formula One. And that is how you met the third thing you love most: Charles Leclerc. He had just signed with Scuderia Ferrari when you two met. It was your first year as a field reporter, which meant you went around interviewing drivers, mechanics and team principals, basically anyone that you passed through who had time and knowledge enough to be interviewed. The day you two officially met was in the first Grand Prix of the season, it was qualifying day and Charles had just done amazingly well for such a young driver, fortunately the universe was on your side and you managed to get a interview with him, il predestinato, all dressed in red and with sweat dripping from his hair to his forehead and onto the sides of his face, that was the first time you saw him so close, and the moment he looked inside your eyes, the driver knew that the purpose of his life, was to make you his wife. And he did it, two years later you married in a beautiful church just outside Monaco, and it was the happiest day of your lives.

Current days

It is race week! And you couldn't be more happy with the excitement of every fan who passes by your side, you just love everything the paddock has to offer, maybe except for the giant cast on your right leg that couldn't go by unnoticed even if you tried. The week before you were walking home and in your way you encountered an old lady whose cane had fallen, without thinking twice you bent down to pick up the object for the poor woman who could clearly barely bend down, unfortunately for you, a car next to you lost control and hit you hard, fortunately he was not driving at a big speed and so the only injury you received was a broken leg, you were released from the hospital a day later with a cast on your leg and a crutch. And that's how you ended up here, this is officially your first race as Charles' wife and not as a reporter and you couldn't be more excited, with Charles help you got out of the car and was immediately flooded by questions and fans wanting to take a picture with your husband or wanting an autograph, you told him it was okay and gave him space to talk to the fans for about ten minutes. After some of the fans went away he walked slowly toward you with a giant smile on his face, "Sorry about that mon amour, let's get you to the garage okay?"

"Okay" You smiled and gave him a small kiss to his cheek, "I love you so much angel" "And I love you more bébé"

As you were walking to the red garage that was near the end of the paddock a reporter stopped you and you immediately recognized her as Rachel, the girl who was filling in for you until you took off your cast and could go back to work.

"Charles! YN! How are you love? Are you getting better after the accident?" She asked smiling towards you. She had a microphone in her hand and the cameraman had the camera pointed at you, Rachel can be your friend but this was still an interview and you had to be careful with what you and Charles said.

"Hey Rach! Fortunately I'm great! The accident wasn't too bad and I'm not feeling pain at all!"

"That is awesome YN!"

"Yeah! And let me tell you a secret..." You felt your husband's hand wrap around your waist and smiled. "...I have this great guy by my side who is helping me with everything I need!"

You turned to Charles who gave you a passionate smile and slowly pulled you in to give you a loving kiss (appropriate for the cameras around you, of course), you smiled and found home in his embrace.

"Okay okay, let's let the lovebirds be! Haha! It was great seeing you both. Good luck on the race today Charles and hope you get better YN!"

"Bye bye Rach! Thank you!"

"Merci Rachel" Said Charles before turning once again to you and helping you continue your way toward the garage. As soon as you entered the space you grabbed your husband's hand carefully.

"I love you so so much and I'm so proud of you my love. You have no ideia how much I look up to you"

"Je t'aime tellement mon ange, je l'ai toujours fait et je le ferai toujours"

*I love you so much my angel, I always have and I always will*

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #formula one x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles lechair #ferrari #charles leclerc x wife #charles leclerc x reporter #formula one #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc blurb #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 x you #charles leclerc x yn

383 notes · View notes

seokgyuu · 1 year

Text

→ GENRE: smut, college au, crack → PAIRING: Seokmin(DK) x Afab!Fem!Reader (Feat. Mingyu x Afab!Fem!Reader, Seuncheol(S.Coups) x Afab!Fem!Reader) → SYNOPSIS: you have never been a person who turns down a challenge, but when your best friend challenges you to hook up with 13 boys in one semester you kind of wish you were.

→ WARNINGS: oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it!), creampie, degradation (name calling: slut, whore), pet names (baby, princess, darling), loads of dirty talk, extremely toxic behaviour by certain members, posessiveness, Daddy!Cheol, voyeurism, masturbation (m & f), semi-public sex, did i mention dirty talk?

→WORD COUNT: 15k (... i have no explanation)

previous ; masterlist ; next

A/N: Uh... hi! Now, while this didn't take as long as the others, this might be the most chaotic and filthy chapter thus far. I had enormous fun writing this and hope you enjoy it too. As I mentioned before... it's truly filthy. And Cheol is toxic af. But you know, in fiction that's fine!! In real life a no no!

taglist: @ariachavez168, @sandcasltes, @amiga-qmilagraso, @learnthisfeeling, @cersti-mo0, @nixtape-foryou, @minahoeshi, @listxn, @starlight-night0, @havetaeminforbreakfast, @kwonranghaee, @haogyuslut, @a-dramatic-girl, @lovercuff, @grapefruithan, @whyokoa, @lovercheol, @cosmicupoftea, @learnthisfeeling, @knucklesdeepmingi, @wonusworldd, @baldi-2, @seventeencaratworld, @kingalls00, @1-800-jeonwonwoo, @hoeforhao, @p-dwiddle-blog, @tsukimiyuukun, @urfavtallgirl222, @jordand2012, @lcvejordyn, @jeanjacketjesus, @gaebestie, @hara-98-fan, @human-wthout-dreams, @eburneon, @xiusmarshmallow, @spbrax, @speaknowlwt, @lvlyjisung @yogurttea @bitchlessdino @honeykyeom if you're user is crossed out it means I couldn't tag you! please make sure your visibility is turned on! if you want to join the taglist fill out the form or shoot me an ask!

Chan was over the moon, really. He was grabbing a shirt from his closet, since the only fresh out of the dryer one he had given to you. Slipping into a pair of sweats after, he hummed a tune, feeling happier and more relieved than he had in quite some time. Moving out had been stressful, finding this apartment had thankfully taken away a bit of that stress, but the process of getting everything from campus to here – still a task he definitely found hectic and wished to be over soon. During all this, he had gotten help from his friends, Haknyeon and Yohan, who were living in one of the dorms that hadn’t shut down. He had also kind of hoped for his older brother to maybe come and give him a hand, but sadly he had been too busy with his own nearing deadlines and a job he had to keep if he wanted to stay in that nice studio he rented. So, yes, Chan had been stressed and worn out and now he was just worn out but for the best reason he could think of. You. He smiled to himself, closing the door to his closet now and making his way out of his bedroom – only to see you standing next to his couch (god, he loved that couch) holding the family picture his mum had given him once he had moved out and into the dorms.

“Being nosy?” He grinned, his arms wrapping around you, cheek nuzzled against your neck. You would have probably dropped the picture if only you weren’t completely frozen in place. Your brain was working overtime right now, sorting thoughts, trying to remember if he had ever mentioned having a younger brother, if he had ever said something remotely close to having a younger brother.

Maybe this was funny. Maybe this was all hilarious and the best comedy ever produced, and you just didn’t get it. Maybe you should laugh about it and tell Chan that, hey, by the way, the guy next to you in this picture? I fucked him. Twice. Oh, and also sucked his dick. Just, you know, in case this mattered to you, Channie boy!

Instead, you said nothing. You stared at the picture and tried to make sense of it. Because as much as this might be funny for outsiders, to you this was the worst thing that could have possibly happened.

“Y/N?” Chan asked now, parting from you again only to put his hands on your shoulders and turn you around to face him. “Are you okay?”

“Why- who- who is this?” You pointed at the picture. Chan smiled again, his face literally lighting up and for a second you hoped he would say “ah that’s just this guy that happened to be at the photoshoot because my actual brother couldn’t make it and so we hired someone who looks a little bit like him”. He didn’t though.

“Oh, that? That’s my brother, Wonwoo, he’s a few years older than me and I think he goes to your university!”

“Right,” you swallowed the lump in your throat and cleared it after, pulling a hand through your hair as you slightly turned around to put the picture back where it belonged.

“Is everything-,”

“I know him,” you began. There was no point in lying, you figured, or just not telling him, because at one point Wonwoo would come and visit Chan and you would run into both at them by chance and- well, if you had the chance (and the courage that is) to make that situation just a tiny bit less awkward… you’d take it.

“You do?” Chan raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised. You nodded.

“Yeah. I joined his e-sports team at the beginning of the semester and-,” you took a deep breath, both of your hands rubbing over your face, “fuck, okay, I’ll just say it. Chan, I swear I had no idea who you were when I- when this happened, alright?”

“You’re beginning to worry me what is-,” he stopped mid sentence, almost as if he suddenly remembered something.

Judging by the way he now took a step back, with his eyes growing in size every passing second, you could very easily guess what he remembered. A part of you told you to feel bad, to have empathy for him, and for a second you contemplated giving in – only to remind yourself the next second that he couldn’t have known, and neither could you; this wasn’t anyone’s fault and instead of dwelling on and regretting this, you perhaps should just move on and act like it never happened.

“Chan?” You carefully said now, surprised at how calm you suddenly felt. Chan, on the other hand, was not calm.

“You’re her, aren’t you? The girl my brother so desperately wants but can’t have?” Your heart broke a little at that. Did he really have to say it this way? You pressed your lips together and, instead of trying to talk yourself out of the situation and his accusation, you simply nodded. Chan groaned, pulling both his hands through his hair.

“This can’t be happening,” he mumbled, starting to pace up and down the living room. How on earth could this be real? Him being so attracted to his new neighbour and wanting nothing more than to finally do exactly what you had just done, only for this new neighbour to be the girl Wonwoo had been pining after and crying about for the last eternity? It was almost laughable.

“Well, it is happening, Chan. But this doesn’t have to be a big deal, he doesn’t have to know.”

“Oh yeah, he can never find out about this!” Chan turned to look at you again. His face was red if from anger or disappointment or any other negative feeling you couldn’t quite say. All you knew was that he was on the same page as you and that would be enough for now.

“Good. Then I’ll get going now.” The man across from you only nodded, still distraught, and went into the kitchen leaving you to collect your clothes from the floor and finally flee the apartment down the hall and to your own.

This had not been your plan. Like ever again. You weren’t supposed to be here, in this familiar place with familiar hands all over you, a way too familiar cock in your mouth. It wasn’t supposed to have you dripping down your thighs, wanting nothing more than for that familiar cock in your mouth to soon fill your needy pussy and fuck you stupid.

And yet, here you were. On your knees in the office of your Friday lecturer’s office, Mingyu in front of you, his big cock down your throat, hips showing no mercy.

“Told you you’d come back crawling, princess,” he smirked, hands holding your head in place as he fucked down your damaged throat, “knew you would miss my cock splitting you open.”

If you had been in any other headspace you would have probably rolled your eyes because you definitely had not missed him - you had plenty other cock to choose from, but Friday lectures after a stressful week filled with avoiding your neighbor and your best friend and… just trying to somehow maintain a normal life when everything was severely fucked up… it had kind of lead to you wanting someone to take your mind off things. And when Mingyu had walked into the classroom, wearing that stupid sleeveless shirt and the stupid tight jeans, there was only one person you wanted to do the job.

So, there you were now. Choking on his perfect huge cock, your hands on his thighs, tears building up in your eyes as you stared up at his face, the cocky grin having you squeeze your thighs together.

“God, I missed how well you take my cock down your throat, Y/N. But I missed your pussy even more.”

Pulling his cock out of your mouth now, he had you lifted up and pressed against one of the many bookshelves seconds later, his mouth on yours, kissing you wildly. His tongue massaging yours as his one hand was on his cock, lining it up with your already bare pussy (he had literally torn your panties off the second you had stepped into the office with him) and the other grabbed your braless tit underneath your shirt.

“O-Oh, Mingyu, f-fuck,” you moaned against his lips when he pushed into you, his lips moving down to your neck, kissing and sucking on your senstive skin and you honestly wondered how on earth you survived all those hickeys you got left and right.

“Yeah, say my name, you fucking whore,” he groaned, bottoming out and kissing you again, even harsher this time. His hips began moving just as ruthless, books literally falling out from the shelf on impact, your moans getting caught by his mouth, his length feeling incredible inside of you, causing your walls to clench, squeeze him. Mingyu couldn’t help his own sounds, feeling too lucky to have you back around him, to feel your perfect pussy, to have your tit underneath his hand, your nipple in between his fingertips. Too many nights had he spent thinking of you, about how you tasted, how you sounded. And now he was back here, back in this office where it had all started.

“Cl-close!” you cried out and Mingyu licked your neck up to your earlobe, biting down on it before bringing his thumb to your clit and beginning to draw circles that made your head fall back and another book slip from the shelf.

“Fuck, are you gonna come this quickly for me? You like my cock that much?” Mingyu knew the answer, the cockiness in his voice still having you wrap your legs around him even tighter.

“Y-yes, I love your cock, f-fucks me so good!” you whined, sure that hearing these words would make Mingyu lose a part of his composure.

“Fuck, baby, yeah, told you no one can fuck you like me,” He couldn’t help himself anymore, his cock throbbing inside of you, twitching with every word you said, every sound you made. He changed the angle a bit, his hips thrusting up, hitting your sweet spot and making stars appear in front of your eyes. Your nails dug into his shoulders, mouth ripped open as more and more moans escaped you, saying his name like a mantra and finally feeling your orgasm hit you.

The waves of pleasure made your pussy almost vibrate, Mingyu biting into your neck as he came too, spurts of hot white cum shooting inside of you, making you feel so wonderfully full. He fucked you through both of your orgasms, perfect rhythm and all - until he stopped and parted from you, cock still buried deep inside. His eyes found yours and the cockiness had changed into something else. You gulped down the regret that already started to form.

“Missed you,” Mingyu then mumbled under his breath, his sweaty bangs falling into his forehead and you bit your lip, hand coming up to move them out of his face.

“Did you?” You asked and he nodded, both hands now resting on the backside of your thighs.

“I did, yeah.”

Nodding slowly, you softly pushed him away, giving him the sign to pull out and drop you back onto the floor. When you landed, you felt your combined releases beginning to spill down and Mingyu was quick to grab some paper towels and wipe them away.

“I thought after our last meeting you would be… well, you know, not my biggest fan.”

“Why? Because you fucked some of my friends? It’s a free world, Y/N, who would I be if I was mad at you for sleeping with people you want to sleep with?” He carefully got all of the cum wiped away, throwing the towels into the bin by the desk. His words had made your heart somewhat leap - this was definitely a different (and more mature) reaction than Seungcheol or Wonwoo had shown you. Clearing your throat, you pulled your dress back down your thighs, thanking him for cleaning you up in a small voice.

“I guess so. I just- I don’t know it’s all a mess,” you sighed and sat down on one of the chairs in front of the desk. Mingyu followed you, he himself tucked back into briefs and jeans too. Instead of sitting down, he leaned against the desk and crossed his arms, tilting his head as he looked down at you.

“I agree, it is messy. But it’s not your fault. I know Wonwoo said some shitty things to you, Y/N, and he was definitely wrong for saying them. But maybe cut him some slack - he is kind of in love with you after all.”

“He won’t be after he found out who I fucked a week ago,” you replied dryly, making Mingyu’s eyebrows shot up.

“Who did you fuck?” He asked and you sighed, leaning back in the chair and crossing one leg over the other.

“His little brother.”

“You fucked Channie?!” Mingyu’s jaw dropped. You laughed bitterly.

“Well, of course you know him, too. How unexpected.” You now also crossed your arms, looking up at Mingyu whose jaw was back in place, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

“Of course I know Wonwoo’s younger brother, Y/N. He’s one of my closest friends.”

“Do you always fuck the girls your closest friends have feelings for?”

Perhaps that hadn’t been the right thing to say. The smile disappeared again, leaving room for a frown.

“Don’t do this, Y/N. Don’t push me away again because you’re scared. Do you really think I don’t know that all of this, all of the fucking around, is because of some sort of challenge you came up with?”

You sucked in a breath, frozen in place. Of all the things he could have said, you wouldn’t have thought this was one of them. For a moment you contemplated whether to deny all of it. That it wasn’t a challenge and you just liked to have sex with 13 different people in 6 months. But looking at him, seeing how he didn’t judge you, wasn’t mad at you, made you feel like you should be honest with him.

“How do you know?” You asked, your eyes never leaving his face. Mingyu shrugged.

“I kind of guessed. I asked around about you, after we met at the coffee shop. Most of the people I talked to said you were more quiet, even a relationship type of girl. At least until two years ago when you and Jiwoo started challenging each other to do stupid shit, approximately around the time a certain someone graduated and left you two with the knowledge he led both of you on. Does that ring a bell?”

You got up from the chair, the sound of it sliding over the floor making you flinch.

“Excuse me?”

“I get it, Y/N. He hurt you. He played you and your best friend. Graduated and then let you both know you were screwing the same guy. And instead of talking about it, you came up with challenges that would make you forget, that would get you to heal this wound he created.” Mingyu put his hands on your waist, eyes staring into yours. There once again wasn’t any judgment, just pure understanding. It scared you, the way he got it all so right.

“I’m guessing the challenge isn’t over yet?” He then continued and you nodded, throat dry and eyes somehow watering.

“No. I still have three more to go.”

Mingyu nodded, hand coming up to cup your chin.

“Then finish your challenge, Y/N. And if you want me, I’ll be waiting.”

Your heart did a leap again and your eyes widened. Did he just-

“Mingyu, I-,” you started, but he interrupted you by leaning down and kissing you. Softly and without any indication for more. He just kissed you. Lips slowly moving against yours, hand caressing your face. You felt your eyes closing, your hands almost automatically moving up to lay on his cheeks and suddenly you were the one indicating more. You pressed yourself against him, the need to be close to him suddenly so strong. He was right with what he said. You had been different back then, before you had been confronted by the man who had almost broken you and your best friend apart because he loved mind games that much. You had wanted to be with him but he had never called you his.

“Y/N…,” Mingyu breathed against your lips now, thumb stroking over your cheek.

“Don’t speak,” you whispered back, closing the small gap once more to kiss him and forget.

Soonyoung was on your apartment floor with several books spread around him. Even though he had wanted to study (after all his extravagant dance school in Europe did not exclude him from the sad reality of a student in South Korea), he had given up about thirty minutes ago, now scrolling on his phone while you were on your couch with your laptop propped on your lap. You hadn’t told him (or anyone) about what had happened with Mingyu yesterday. You also hadn’t returned any of Jiwoo’s calls the past three days, only texting her you were busy and would get back to her after the weekend. Truly, you were sure your best friend suspected something was up, but decided not to pester you about it (yet).

“Should we order some food?” Soonyoung said after a while of silence and you looked up from your screen and at him.

“Sure. What are you in the mood for?”

The two of you decided to go with a simple order of pizza, waiting only for around half an hour to now munch away on the delicious treat.

“So, what’s up with you, hm?” Soonyoung asked you, back propped against your coffee table, eyebrows raised. You almost choked on your pizza.

“With me? What do you mean?” You asked, trying your best to sound like your normal self. Soonyoung put his pizza down onto his carton and cleaned them on his black joggers.

“Well, you’ve been staring at your screen for two hours, not getting actual work done. And you’ve barely spoken a word. Also, Jiwoo told me you haven’t really talked to her all week,” Soonyoung looked truly worried, his head slightly tilted to the side. You suppressed a sigh. Of course Jiwoo had talked to him. She had found out about you two becoming close, not exactly jealous but slightly confused as to why you were avoiding her.

“Fine. Maybe something happened,” you pouted, sinking into your couch, laptop now discarded next to you. Soonyoung looked at you expectantly. Clearing your throat, you felt your heats cheek up.

“I might have… slept with Mingyu again.”

“What?!” Soonyoung’s eyes widened.

“And after he might have told me he knows about the challenge and is, uhm, waiting for me.”

Silence. Awkward silence. Soonyoung wasn’t even blinking as he stared at you, his mouth dropped. You weren’t surprised by this reaction in the slightest. Sighing, you threw your hands in the air.

“I know, okay?! I know I shouldn’t have slept with him, but I can’t exactly take it back now.”

“Truthfully I don’t really care about you fucking him again, Y/N, I am more concerned about him waiting for you. Does that mean he likes you?!”

“I guess so? God, I don’t know, Soonyoung. He didn’t… we didn’t talk much after that.”

Soonyoung deadpanned at you.

“Did you fuck again after?”

Instead of answering you took another bite from your pizza. Soonyoung fell to the floor dramatically.

“You are unbelievable, Y/N. I hope you’re aware.”

Oh yes, you definitely were.

Another day passed, and you sat at your living room table eating lunch. You hadn’t talked to Mingyu at all, even though he had texted you. A part of you wanted to forget about what had happened because considering your already confused feelings, this was the last thing you needed. A past fuck-buddy suddenly declaring he would wait for you to finish fucking three other guys. Sighing, you shoved your plate away, wondering if perhaps ignoring Jiwoo had been the wrong thing to do, when suddenly you felt your phone vibrate. It wasn’t a number you had saved and for a second you contemplated just not answering, but did it anyway.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Miss. It’s Lee Seokmin speaking, Choi Seungcheol’s assistant.”

You immediately got up from your chair. What the hell? Why was Seungcheol’s assistant calling you? A strange feeling appeared in your stomach and you tried to shake it off, your hand balling into a fist.

“What do you want?” You finally replied, hoping you didn’t sound too harsh. Seokmin on the other line looked over at the door to Seungcheol’s office, clearing his throat.

“Mr. Choi would like to send you a car to come pick you up and meet him at his office.”

You felt yourself starting to laugh. He wanted to do what? Send you a car? Meet you? Who the fuck did he think he was?

“Does he now? Well, you can tell Mr. Choi that I’m not interested in seeing him. Ever again!”

“Well, Mr. Choi did expect you to say that, Miss. He wanted me to inform you that the job he offered you is still on the table and would earn you 7 Million Won.”

The phone almost dropped out of your hand. 7 Million Won?! Was he out of his goddamn mind?! Anger filled you, anger towards him for thinking he could buy your forgiveness and towards yourself for actually considering the offer. It wasn’t like you desperately needed money, but 7 Million Won wasn’t something to just… turn down. You took a deep breath, contemplating your options.

“When?” You sat down on your couch.

“The car could be there in an hour.” You stood up again.

“An hour?!”

“Yes, Miss. If you’re not sure, we can also arrange a car to pick you up later.”

“N-no. An hour is fine.”

Hanging up the phone shortly after, you wondered how you always found yourself in situations like this. Maybe because you didn’t know how to say no. Or because you liked to suffer. Liked the thrill of getting into scenarios that were completely unpredictable.

Judging by the way you ran into your bedroom, eyes scanning over every item of clothing you owned, this situation had been caused by more than just you loving to do the unpredictable. You, or at least a sick part of you, wanted to see him. Even after that stunt he had pulled, you found yourself thinking of him. Missing him. Even yesterday when you had been with Mingyu a part of your subconscious had wondered if perhaps it should have been Cheol you went to for relief.

The car did show up an hour later. Anxiety spread through you as you walked to the elevator, knowing full well you were wearing sexy underwear under your pencil skirt and low cut, tight fitted, long sleeved shirt. You had dressed to impress and you hated yourself for it. Seungcheol shouldn’t be in your head anymore. You should be over him, should at least try to get over him. Instead you were here in some of your sexiest clothes on the way to see him, the driver nodding at you through the rearview mirror. You smiled with your lips pressed together, your hands tightly clasped together in your lap. Whatever was waiting for you at the office, the only thing you cared about was seeing him, maybe even touching him. Thinking about the last time you saw him, your thighs automatically pressed together. This was ridiculous, you were ridiculous. Wanting a man so obviously immature should be below you! He had taken your call while another woman was sucking him off! He was a child, a stupid, stupid child that did not deserve your infatuation. And yet.

The car stopped in front of one of the taller skyscrapers, the driver opening the door for you. Your breath was stuck in your throat, thanking the man with a small smile and a nod of your head. It was as if you had been ported back to your first date with Seungcheol. Arriving at the hotel, going inside. Seeing him. Just thinking about the elevator ride and what happened after dinner… you shivered as you walked through one of the revolving doors, your heart beating in your ears. Your bag was safely under your arm, and you hoped and prayed you didn’t look as nervous as you felt. Walking further inside, you saw a tall man standing at one of the automatic gates, his eyes glued to the iPad he was holding in one of his big hands. He was wearing a fitted pinstripe suit, a pair of round specs on his well defined sharp nose. His hair was styled upwards, only a few strands falling into his forehead and when you almost reached him, his head lifted and you looked into a pair of sparkling brown eyes that made you almost trip over your own feet.

“You must be Y/N. Welcome. I’m Lee Seokmin. It is a pleasure to meet you in person.” He bowed to you once and you quickly followed, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.

“You too, thanks.” You smiled when you were in an upright position again. Seokmin nodded once before reaching out his arm, leading you to the gate that now opened. Walking through it, you tried to somehow convince yourself that you were not extremely attracted to Seungcheol’s assistant. What was it with you and handsome men these days? Could you ever be around, let’s say, mediocre looking people that did not have your pussy flutter just by looking at them? Jesus.

“Mr. Choi is waiting for you upstairs. Please, after you.” The elevator doors opened and you thanked Seokmin once again, going inside. You watched as he pressed the highest number on the buttons, your eyes widening slightly before looking ahead. Perhaps you were confused about the family business - Jiwoo had never really mentioned what her parents did, nor what Seungcheol was working as. Instead of dwelling on it (maybe it was like Chandler in Friends or Barney in How I Met Your Mother and you just weren’t supposed to know what they did for a living) you waited for the elevator to arrive and finally stepped out when you reached your destination. You were greeted by a grand entryway, luxurious couches on both sides of the room, facing the windows showing the skyline of the city. Flowers stood in crystal vases on the glass tables in front of the couches and there were magazines spread around them. On the far right side stood a small reception where a blonde woman was talking on the phone, bowing her head at you and Seokmin when she spotted you.

“Please follow me.” Seokmin put his hand on the small of your back for just half a second, but you felt the spot burn nonetheless. Pathetic, really. You blew air into your cheeks, trying to get rid of the thoughts swarming your head. You had gotten laid literally less than 36 hours ago!

Seokmin led you through a hallway that eventually ended in big wooden doors he now opened. The light coming in through the window was beautiful. It made the whole room look friendly. There was a light brown, wood desk at the side, right next to the huge window. A chair stood behind and a fancy computer on top of it. Countless documents were stacked neatly next to the monitor and you guessed this was Seokmin’s space. You watched him walk to the other wooden door, knocking two times before opening it.

“Mr. Choi, she is here.”

You heard his voice only muffled. It still made goosebumps erupt all over. Quickly, you took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a second while Seokmin was still distracted. You brought back the phone call with him, the girl he had on his dick while he talked to you. Brought back how you had felt, the anger, the hurt. The crack in your heart for whatever reason. When you opened your eyes again, the nervousness had made room for just the anger you needed.

“You can go inside now.” Seokmin once again bowed his head and you smiled at him, before walking inside the office. The door closed behind you and the air inside the big office suddenly felt incredibly stiff.

There he stood. Suit, but the jacket discarded over the armchair in front of his grand desk. His first few buttons open, suspenders on his broad frame, somehow making him look even sexier than he already was. His hair was styled up, kind of like Seokmin, just a bit more neat. And his eyes were on you the second you had walked inside. His burning, deep brown eyes that almost made you forget all this anger inside of you.

Quickly, you let your eyes wander the room.

“We’re alone.” You said matter of factly and Seungcheol scoffed.

“Who else do you want here?” He asked, taking a few steps further into the room. You now also saw his tight dress pants, the way they hugged his thighs so perfectly. You swallowed, before looking back into his face sternly.

“I thought I was earning 7 million Won today?”

The corners of his lips twitched, a smirk making its way onto them.

“Right. The job. Well, I can’t just hire you without an interview first,” he explained, leaning against one of the armchairs placed on the left side of the room. There were two of them, right across from a couch of the same dark green velvet. You stared at him for a few seconds, the urge to yell at him so strong.

“An interview?” You repeated and he nodded, crossing his arms in front of his chest and god, how much you wanted to touch him, feel his pecks underneath your fingers, feel the way he breathed.

“Nothing gets handed to you these days, sweetheart.”

The word caught you off guard. Your thighs instinctively pressed together.

“You offered me this job, Seungcheol. Pretty sure that inquires no interview needed,” you shook your head, “I didn’t come here for games, if you won’t-”, but you didn’t get any further, because suddenly he was right there in your space, his breath almost hitting your cheek as his hands were firm on your waist. You felt yourself gasp, looking up into his handsome face.

“I can’t do this, Y/N,” his voice was just a whisper, a desperate whisper filled with so many emotions you felt like your head was about to fall off, “I can’t- fuck, I wanted to call you so many times.”

“Yeah? And would there have been a girl sitting on your cock while you did?” You somehow managed to sound venomous, even though you felt your panties stick to you, your pussy throbbing painfully. Cheol groaned, hands wandering to the small of your back and pushing you closer to him. You didn’t stop him even though you knew you should’ve.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was immature. Jealous. Hearing Jiwoo telling me about you and the challenge… I was so mad. I felt used. And then it dawned on me that I wasn’t the first and most definitely not the last and, fuck, the jealousy drove me nearly mad. I wanted to get back at you, wanted to make you feel the way I did, but it was dumb, so, so dumb.”

While he spoke he came closer to you, his lips now pressed against your cheek, his fingers grabbing the fabric of your skirt. You clenched around nothing.

“Y-you took my call with another girl sucking your cock, Seungcheol, what the fuck were you thinking.” Without even really taking notice, your hands moved up, now on his biceps, digging into the dress shirt. He shook his head, lips now on your neck, not kissing you, just letting them glide over your skin, his nose breathing in your intoxicating scent.

“I know, baby, I know I did. Fuck, the truth is I had her waiting there the whole fucking day, hoping you’d call when my sister gave you my card. And when Seokmin told me you were on the line… I swear she was on my cock only as long as you stayed on the line, baby, I swear to you.”

Pathetic. Was what you should’ve been thinking. And a part of you was, a part of you wanted to push him away and tell him he was sick, but the bigger part stayed right there, letting his breath hit your skin, his hands roam, over your back and finally onto your ass, pushing you even closer, making you feel his hard length against you. And now there was no stopping the moan coming out of you. Right then he kissed you, his lips hot and wet on yours, desperation making both of you part your mouths, tongue finding tongue, a dance as crazy as you both felt erupting between them. Your hands tangled in his hair as he lifted you up, crashing into the next wall, making one of the (probably very expensive) paintings fall to the floor. Neither of you cared. Instead he kissed you harder, one hand now moving in between your legs, feeling your wet core, making him groan.

“Fuck, baby, so, so wet, so hot for Daddy, aren’t you?” You nodded rapidly, hands on his face, pulling him closer, kissing him again. Teeth and tongue and hotness, your head was filled with nothing but cotton and him.

“Shit, I missed you so much,” he breathed against your lips before continuing, his strong arms now carrying you over to the sideboard where he shoved down whatever was on there, placing you on it and getting rid of your panties immediately. He held them in his hand for a second, before he shoved them into his back pocket.

“God, fuck, pl-please fuck me, Daddy, need you so bad!” You cried out, your hands on his belt and he groaned, nodding the way you did before. He let you open his belt and pants and then proceeded to get out of them, his huge cock springing free a second later when his briefs were down by his ankles as well. You whimpered at the sight.

“Think you can take me, sweetheart?” He asked, hands on your face, kissing down your jaw and you wrapped your legs back around his waist, wanting nothing more than for him to fuck you senseless.

“Y-yes, need you to split me open with your huge cock, Daddy, pl-please.” Cheol sloppily kissed your neck, moaning at your words. He loved to hear you beg, loved to hear you call his cock huge, loved to hear you wanting him to fuck you. Quickly, he grabbed the base of his girth, lining it up with your tight cunt, his tip being sucked in immediately by your wet heat. You gasped, hands on his still clothed shoulders. He leaned his forehead against yours as he pushed in further, your cunt apparently still stretched open from Mingyu from the day prior, but you shook the thought off, instead moving your hips to meet him, your pussy taking even more of him now. His groan made your whole body shiver and once he bottomed out, he kissed you again, his tongue in your mouth immediately. It was still desperate, still hot, still crazy. When he did his first thrust your eyes rolled back into your head and the moan escaping you came from deep within.

“Fuck, y-yeah, your tight pussy takes my cock so well, such a good slut for Daddy, just for Daddy,” he murmured, lips sucking on your neck as he continues thrusting, the pain turning into pleasure real quick. You let your hips move with his, head leaned against the wall behind you, the sideboard banging on the floor with every move. Cheol felt like his cock had never been inside a pussy this good. His whole body shook, wanting to paint you white but also to never stop fucking you. Every time your walls clenched around him he felt a little closer to heaven, the sounds you were making more than just music to his ears.

“A-Am close, Daddy!” You cried out, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades and Seungcheol grabbed your thighs, changing the angle slightly.

“Are you gonna cum on Daddy’s cock, baby?” He thrusted even harder now and you basically screamed his name, nodding when suddenly you felt his thumb on your clit, stars appearing before your eyes as you felt your orgasm hit you almost out of the blue.

“F-fuck, Daddy, I- oh my god!” The orgasm made all of your vision go blurry and because he hadn’t finished yet he fucked you right into another one, his lips on yours, your arms tired around his neck, but the pleasure still so strong in your veins.

“Did so well for Daddy, such a good girl, gonna make Daddy cum with your perfect pussy,” his voice was shaking with lust and you clenched around him once again, bringing him even closer to the edge.

“P-Please cum inside me, Daddy, want you to breed me, want you to fill me up s-so good, want your cum so bad, a-ah!” It was almost like a spell, your words. Cheol’s orgasm hit him hard, spurts of thick white cum filling your spent pussy just as you hit your second orgasm, whiny moans making Seungcheol’s head spin.

“Fuck, you’re perfect, baby.”

His forehead was back to being pressed against yours, both of you only slowly coming down from your highs.

You felt his sweet kisses before you opened your eyes again. He kissed your cheek and your jaw, kissed your neck and moved up to kiss your lips again. Soft and with so many feelings you were almost sure you’d start crying any second. What had you done? Once again, you had crossed this line, had decided to put your friendship with Jiwoo on the line because what? You wanted some good dick?

Sighing inside of you, you knew that wasn’t true anymore. There was more to this and if you were smart enough, you would try to figure it out before you did anything else with anyone (read as: Mingyu).

“Cheol…” You didn’t know where the nickname came from, but it was now out in the open and when you opened your eyes and looked at him, saw the way his eyes sparkled, you felt your stomach and heart jump.

“Don’t say it, please,” he whispered, his hand softly caressing your cheek and you bit your lip, letting your own hands move up and cup his face.

“I won’t. I don’t have to.” You leaned in to kiss him again, his soft lips made for yours, and your heart was beating rapidly just as much as it was breaking.

Seungcheol had gotten you some paper-towels, helping you clean up and you were now seated on one of the green velvet armchairs, basically twiddling your thumbs waiting for him to come back from wherever he had gone after handing you the towels. You wanted to leave, or at least you thought you did. Leave and use the bathroom and don’t ever turn back.

When the door opened, you stood up, seeing him walk back inside. He looked at you once the door was closed.

“I know what you’re thinking, Y/N. And I respect your feelings, I truly do,” he walked over to you, stopping when he reached you. He was itching to touch you, but he also wanted to give you space.

“But the truth is, you never asked Jiwoo what she’d think about you and me. You just assumed she’d hate the idea.”

“I don’t even know what I think about you and me, Cheol.” You replied, a slight pain shooting through his heart.

“I don’t believe you.” He breathed and you sighed, shaking your head.

“It’s complicated, everything is just so fucking complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

Something in his tone made you look up again. There was a certain look in his eyes - a determination you hadn’t seen before. As much as it was hot it was making you nervous, too.

“What do you mean?” You carefully asked, crossing your arms.

“I mean that I took care of it for you. I respect and admire your will to finish the challenge you accepted. As much as I hate to think about you with another man, or in this case, several other men, I don’t want to make you feel as if I don’t respect your wishes.”

He now dared to put his hands on your shoulders, thumb caressing you over your shirt. You stayed silent, mainly because you had absolutely no idea where this was going. He took care of it for you? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“What I am saying is, I found three men you can finish this challenge with. Men I trust, that I know won’t try anything with you after it’s done.”

Your jaw dropped and so did your arms. His words rang in your ears and still needed a while to be processed.

“You- you did what?!” you exhaled and Seungcheol nervously bit his lip.

“Look, I know this is weird, but the sooner you get this over with… the sooner you can tell if you want to be with me.”

You were truly speechless. Seungcheol had found you three men? To sleep with? You had to sit down. The plush armchair was perfect to catch your worn out frame. You shook your head.

“What the fuck? Where did you- what did you? What?” Looking back at him you watched as he now took a seat on the couch across from you. He folded his hands, arms laying over his thighs as he leaned forward, clearing his throat.

“I think it’s the best thing. You get this over with and you’re free from all of your drama, Y/N. Just think about it.”

“And who are these men?” Ignoring his words, you asked the next relevant question. Cheol licked his lips and looked over to the door. Then, with his voice loud and clear:

“Come in!”

You froze in place, watching the door open and two men stepping in. One of them was Seokmin, the other you hadn’t seen before - or you thought you hadn’t. The closer he came, the clearer you recognized him as the guy who had picked you up earlier. Your eyes widened.

“You already know Seokmin and Vernon. They are some of my most trustworthy employees. And I would say they are handsome enough for you to enjoy them. But, of course, it is up to you.”

This was ridiculous. But then, what about your life hadn’t been these days? Pressing your lips together, you looked from the two back to Seungcheol.

“That’s only two,” you stated the obvious. Cheol nodded.

“Well, yes. Jeonghan is still on a business trip. While Seokmin is my assistant and Vernon my personal driver, Jeonghan is my business partner. He has his office on the other side of the floor.”

He had really planned it all, through and through, as if it was one of his projects at work. Getting up, you began pacing back and forth, finally stopping and pointing at Seokmin and Vernon that still stood behind Cheol kind of awkwardly.

“You want me to fuck them?” You asked then, making Cheol clench his jaw. He followed you, also getting up.

“I want you to fuck them once. Once and never again.”

“Still. You would know I did it. Wouldn’t that bother you?”

“Why would it bother me? You’re an adult, Y/N, you can sleep with whoever you want.”

“Even your friends?”

“They aren’t my friends, they are my employees.”

“So you’re a pimp now?”

Cheol’s eyebrow twitched.

“Y/N.”

You sigh audibly, throwing your hands in the air.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Seungcheol. This is absurd! You can’t just go and pick who I sleep with!”

“Didn’t Jiwoo do the same?”

“That is totally different and you know it.” You stretched out your index, pointing at him accusingly. He sighed, pulling a hand through his hair.

“I know what you’re thinking. And yeah, maybe this is a bit about controlling who you’re with before you make a definite decision about us. Perhaps this is selfish and wrong of me, fuck, it most definitely is. But I just need you to understand that I am serious about this, about you. I want to be with you, but I also don’t want you to give up your pride. I understand where you’re coming from, and as much as it may bother me I know this isn’t about me. Asking them to do this for me, to sleep with you, it wasn’t easy for me, and you can still say no, I won’t force you into this.”

With every word he said, you found yourself more and more torn. Because, yes, it was indeed selfish and controlling of him. But then again, if you just did this it would be over. You could continue your life and hope to somehow get back to where it was before the semester started. Swallowing down your doubts and anger, you finally breathed out.

“Fine. I’ll do it. But I hope you know this is not a certain yes that I want to be with you after the challenge is completed.”

“Yes. I know.” He dared to walk a few steps towards you, his eyes set on yours and, god, why was he so good looking? So pretty and yet so infuriating. You shook your head, not entirely sure what to do with yourself or the situation.

Seokmin and Vernon were still in the room with you and you shifted your gaze from Seungcheol to them.

“And you’re okay with this?” You asked, unsure. The two men nodded and you sighed, letting a hand run through your hair in distress. Great, they were on board at least. How exactly this was going to go though? You had no idea. Looking back at Cheol, you took a deep breath.

“You’re crazy, I hope you’re aware,” you said. Cheol smiled slightly, daring to softly caress your cheek.

“Crazy about you, darling.”

It had been a week. A full week since Seungcheol had told you that little plan of his and you had yet to hear from either of his “employees”. You found it ridiculous, considering you hadn’t even been a fan of the idea in the first place and now they couldn’t even be bothered to call you?

Coming out of your last class that Monday, your mind was already somewhere else (exams, that is) you almost missed the well dressed man leaning against his car outside the building. Only when he called your name, did you look up.

“Seokmin?” You asked, surprise displayed on your face. The handsome man nodded, his jaw a little tightened.

“We need to talk,” he said, opening the door of the passenger seat. You frowned, looking around before finally getting in, your bag safely stored between your legs. He had a nice car. A German brand, you noted. Seokmin got in on the driver’s side, closing his door and finally turning to you.

“So, uhm, what do we need to talk about?” Watching Seokmin, the way his knuckles turned white as he held onto the steering wheel a little too strong. His well fitted black suit strained around his thighs and you swallowed hard, wondering if he had picked you up to do what his boss asked of him.

“Vernon and I told Seungcheol we already slept together.” The words took a few seconds to reach your brain and once they did, your eyes widened and you sat up, one hand finding balance on the seat underneath you.

“You did what?!”

“We are going to the office right now and you need to tell him it’s true.” Seokmin turned to look at you, your mouth hanging open.

“We are… what? You expect me to lie to him?”

“Yes, that’s exactly it, smart girl.”

“Woah, no. I can’t lie to him, he will know I am!

The glint in his eyes made you flinch. While he seemed to be a proper young man, sweet on the outside, something slumbered inside him and you weren’t too keen on finding out what it was. If lying to Cheol made all of this go away - so be it. Perhaps he didn’t know you as well as you thought - perhaps he would buy it and you were free.

“What about the other one? Jeonghan?” You asked as you put your seatbelt on and Seokmin started the car.

“He’s in it too. Obviously he can’t say he had sex with you yet since he’s still on his business trip, but once he is back…” He began to drive off, your nod going unnoticed by him. While he drove, you allowed yourself to check him out a little more. Whilst you were sure that you wanted to avoid the inevitable complications it would bring if you were to sleep with him - it wasn’t like he wasn’t someone you’d consider if the circumstances were any different. He was tall and handsome, with a face shaped like a Greek gods. His black hair was styled upwards, once again only a few strands falling into his forehead. The little mole underneath his eye, right there on his cheek looking so endearing.

He drove the car in silence not mentioning if he saw you staring and you decided that not speaking to him would do you more good than not. Arriving at the office around ten minutes later, he held the door open for you and you thanked him with a nod, your bag back on your shoulder. You followed him inside, the now familiar entrance hall and elevators greeting you in their elegant demeanor just like last time. Just like back then you were extremely nervous, feeling sweat forming on your hands, your teeth continuously gnawing on your bottom lip. Seokmin and you entered the elevator and you tried to calm your beating heart. This was going to be fine. You had lied many times before - maybe not about something like this to someone you had a very… specific… relationship with, but… yeah. You gulped when the doors opened and Seokmin led you to where he had a week ago. Knocking on the door once, he then continued to open it, again letting you go ahead.

Seungcheol was leaning against his desk, hands holding onto its edge. Your eyes met his immediately and your stomach did a flip while the rest of your insides seemed to tighten uncomfortably.

“Very well, we’re all here.” He pushed himself off the table, hands now shoved into the pockets of his tight pants that made his thighs look extremely delicious. Only when you stopped staring at his legs did you register what he said. Your head moved to the side and you saw Vernon sitting on the armchair across from the couch, your eyes widening slightly.

“Seokmin, take a seat next to Vernon, won’t you.” Cheol said, but his eyes were locked on you. His assistant nodded and walked over to the driver, presenting him with a nod before taking his place on the other armchair. The second he was seated, Cheol walked over to you in three big steps, his arm wrapping around your middle and pulling you closer. You gasped at the sudden contact, hands finding Cheol’s chest.

“Tell me, darling, did you fuck them?” His eyes said something you couldn’t grasp and while your throat dried up, your head still somewhat knew how to function and nodded. The man holding you close clicked his tongue.

“Use your words, baby.” His grip around you tightened and you cursed yourself for feeling that right between your legs. Pressing your thighs together, you cleared your throat.

“Yes, I did.”

Seungcheol watched you closely, eyes roaming over your face, your neck and chest. He saw the mark he had left slightly fading and a small smile played on his lips.

“Is that right?” He mumbled, looking at Vernon and Seokmin for only a split second before his attention was back on you.

“Tell me then. Tell me what they did to you.”

The request caught you off guard. Seokmin and Vernon froze in their seats, not daring to look at each other. This had not been part of the plan. Seokmin tried to stay positive - neither he nor Vernon had given Seungcheol any details of your presumed nights together which meant you had full creative control. But then again, Seokmin thought, would he be okay listening to you sharing a story about how he fucked you? He shifted on his seat, his poker face staying even with his dick uncomfortably twitching inside his briefs.

Now, you looked over at the two men, not able to read anything in their blank faces. Fine, this was up to you then. Clearing your throat again, you looked back at Cheol.

“You sure?” You wanted to know. Seungcheol nodded, his arm still tightly wrapped around you.

“Fine,” you dropped your bag onto the floor, “Seokmin fucked me in the back of his car. Right about a day after your little presentation. He didn’t wait long, just pulled me onto the backseat, fingered me open for him and then took me from behind until he came.”

You were impressed with yourself, your voice didn’t go up higher, nor did you stop looking at him during any time of your little speech. Seungcheol’s face was unreadable.

“Did he make you cum?” He asked then. You shook your head.

“He watched as I finished myself off.”

Wherever that confidence came from - you weren’t sure. You didn’t notice the way Seokmin’s eyes narrowed or how he crossed his legs, didn’t notice how angry splashes of red appeared on his neck. He had watched you getting yourself off? Please, if anything he’d make you cum with his fingers, cock and mouth. He would never just come and then leave you to finish the job yourself. Still, he remained calm, leaning back in the chair and ignoring the images of you on the backseat of his car, of his cock repeatedly thrusting into you.

“Vernon?” Cheol continued then.

“It was in my apartment three days ago. I invited him over and we had dinner. We both wanted to get it over with, but also to have it be pleasurable nonetheless. So, we started making out and I eventually rode his cock till he came.”

Vernon felt his blood rush down south at that thought. Little did you or anyone else in this room know how far this was from anything that had happened to him in real life.

“Did he make you cum, baby?” Cheol asked, one hand now cupping your face. You shook your head.

“No. I finished myself off when he was gone.”

While it did hurt his pride a little bit, Vernon understood what you were doing. He still couldn’t help himself imagining what you’d look like with your fingers pounding into your cunt.

For a few seconds Cheol was quiet. Then, he chuckled lowly. Your heart dropped. Shit. He parted from you, cracking his neck once, twice, before looking over at his two employees, slash, friends.

“So, you two can’t even do this one thing for me?” He asked calmly, and Vernon and Seokmin got up, ready to defend themselves, when Seungcheol shook his head, holding up one of his big hands.

“Perhaps,” he began, “Perhaps, I need to show you what you missed out on.”

Your ears perked up at that, heat rising inside of you, gaze on Seungcheol’s back. Show them what they missed out on? When he turned around, his eyes full of fire, you felt yourself gasp. He had pulled you close again, his chest pressed against yours, head leaned forward, lips right by your ear.

“Liars get punished, baby,” he whispered, “should I fuck you right here in front of them? Give them a show?”

The small groan coming out of your mouth gave you away. Seungcheol kissed you then, hot and demanding, his tongue thrusting into your mouth from the get go. He let his hands roam over your body, shoving up your shirt and groping your tits, having you moan into his mouth as he finally picked you up and laid you down onto the couch, right into Seokmin and Vernon’s view.

“S-Sir, we- we can g-go,” Vernon stuttered, eyes glued to the way your shirt had risen up, showing your stomach and a little bit of your underboob and, god, Vernon was already hard.

“If you want to, go. But I doubt either of you wants to miss this, isn’t that right, darling?” Cheol smirked down at you, your face hot and your pussy throbbing for him already.

“Sit down and enjoy the show because I fear this is the closest you will get to this pussy, boys.”

Vernon plopped back down onto the armchair then, his mouth already hanging low while Seokmin was torn. A part of him wanted to stay, wanted to see you get railed, wanted to save the pictures for later when he was alone, imagining it was him instead of Seungcheol fucking you. Another part wanted to leave though. He definitely didn’t want to be part of Cheol’s sick game. He already did everything for that jerk, why the hell should he comply even now?

But the second he heard your moan, Seokmin found himself sitting back down. The sound went straight to his cock and he crossed his legs like he had before, trying to ignore how tight his pants were growing.

Cheol had moved between your legs, hands gripping your bare thighs, silently thanking you for wearing that skirt today. He pressed kisses onto your flesh, biting into it after, making you moan. Hands found your panties, pulling them down and inhaling your scent just then, licking his lips.

Dashing forward, he sunk his tongue into your folds, fingers still digging into your skin. Seeing red, you let your hands move to his head, nails almost hurting his scalp. You moaned out loud when his lips closed around your clit and a finger found its way into your tight heat.

“Tastes so fucking good,” Cheol mumbled loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, “bet you regret not being able to taste her pussy, isn’t that right?” He sucked your clit into his mouth again, tongue flicking against it in a fast rhythm and you arched your back, crying out his name. Cheol was wonderful with his mouth and fingers, maybe even deserved a medal for the way he coordinated his finger and tongue, how he licked into your hole and up your folds, how he devoured your bud as if it was a delicacy in a 5 star restaurant.

“Hear how wet she is? My little slut likes being watched, doesn’t she?” Cheol moved forward now, pressing two fingers into you and pumping them in and out at a fast pace. You gasped, hands on his biceps, holding on for dear life.

“D-Daddy!” you cried out and Cheol smirked, looking over at Seokmin and Vernon who were both staring at you.

“That’s right, cry out for me, baby.” He picked up the pace, licking his lips before he dipped down, kissing you again, more tongue and teeth than anything else. Your hips were chasing his movements, fingers digging into his muscular arms.

“Holy.” Vernon swallowed, his hand pressing down onto his crotch to get some kind of friction. His mind was racing, everything kind of a blur while his cock was getting harder with every second. Seokmin, meanwhile, was sitting quietly on his chair, eyes locked on you. He thrived on the way you arched your body, the way your face was pulled into a grimace, your mouth hanging open, eyes squeezed shut. He didn’t even try to control the erection in his pants, knowing well enough it was only going to get worse.

“Should I show them your pussy, baby? Do you want them to see how wet you are?” Seungcheol pulled his fingers out of you, your juices so visible on them for everyone to see. Vernon whimpered at the sight, while Seokmin stayed put. Your chest was heaving, watching how Cheol moved up again, letting his fingers sink into your mouth. You sucked them in, tongue swirling around them as if they were his cock. Cheol felt his dick twitch and he licked his lips, your taste forever the sweetest he had ever tasted.

He then moved you, having both your legs hang off the couch, spreading them for Seokmin and Vernon to see, both of them holding their breaths as they saw your needy cunt, the way you were dripping, your eyes wide and so full of lust Vernon couldn’t help but reach into his pants, palming himself over his boxers, eyes glued to your glistening folds.

“Look at that, looks like Vernon likes your pussy, baby. Bet he wishes he could be the one to do this, hm?” Cheol let three fingers push into you now, the stretch making you cry out in pleasure, holding onto the edge of the couch as your head fell backwards. The sounds it made, the way his fingers reached you right where you needed him to, pushed into that spot over and over again, your walls clenching around him more often than not.

“Yeah, look at how well that pretty pussy takes my fingers, such a good girl for Daddy,” Cheol mumbled more to himself than anyone else, even though he was still aware of the two other men in the room. He loved watching you come undone, loved the way you moaned, cried, whimpered - every sound you made was like music to him. A symphony he could never grow tired of.

“D-Daddy, pl-please!” Your eyes were rolling back, your hips lifting off the couch, about to reach your high, stomach tightening - when Cheol pulled his fingers out and instead slapped down onto your clit having your body jerk and tears building up behind your eyes.

“I told you, liars need to be punished.” Without any warning, he grabbed your hips again, having you on all fours on the couch, his cock freed from his pants, pumping it once, twice, before slapping his free hand onto your asscheek. You moaned, almost losing balance and your eyes flew to the side when you heard Vernon moan again. His hand was inside his boxers now, jerking off without any control, hand flying up his cock in rapid movements. Seokmin was still not moving. Your eyes stayed on him even when Cheol rammed into you, his one hand on your hip, the other around your neck.

The eye contact made Seokmin question his sanity even more. Why the fuck would you look at him right now, why would you not close your eyes and enjoy Seungcheol fucking you? The moans that erupted your whole body as Seungcheol began thrusting made Seokmin almost come untouched. He balled his hands to fists, ignoring the urge to touch himself. You were still looking at him, your hair falling into your face as Seungcheol pulled you up, hand fully wrapped around your neck as he fucked into you hard and quick.

“Tell them how good I fuck you, baby.” Cheol groaned when you clenched around his length and you whimpered, eyes rolling back for a second.

“Y-you fuck me so good, Daddy.” Your voice was shaking with lust and pent up frustration and Seokmin felt himself twitch again, felt how close he was to release without even doing anything. Pathetic.

“That’s right. My little slut wants me to fill her up, isn’t that right? Wants her pussy full of cum.” His thrusts got faster as he spoke and you could only nod, eyes back to their original position - looking right at Seokmin. You couldn’t really say why you felt the need to look at him, maybe because you wanted to challenge him, make him touch himself. It reminded you of the time Seungkwan had watched you and Wonwoo in the library and how he had needed encouragement to touch himself. Right now you felt like there was more behind Seokmin’s actions, though. He knew he could touch himself, after all Vernon was going on himself like a horny teenager, but Seokmin didn’t want to. He wanted to prove a point. And you wanted to break him. You let another moan out, your hands moving to shove up your shirt, showing both of them your tits for the very first time, your hands massaging them harshly, thumb and index pinching your nipple. Cheol noticed, groaning as he changed the angle one more time, kneeling down with you on his lap, fucking up into you now.

“Putting on a show, aren’t you? Such a little whore, fuck.” Cheol took over your own task, massaging your tits as he fucked into you and you let your fingers spread your pussy, circling your clit as you let your head fall back, hips bouncing off Cheol’s lap now. Your cunt pulsated around him, his cock hitting your sweet spot with every single thrust and you were sure you were about to come.

“D-Daddy, a-am so close, c-can I please come?”

“You think you deserve to cum?” Cheol let out an evil chuckle, before pushing you off of him, his cock slipping out of your pussy, your orgasm once again denied. You almost fell of the couch, but Cheol caught you, turning you back around to face him. Then he pushed your head down, his cock slipping between your lips easily, a surprised gasp erupting you the same time as his cock slid down your throat.

“Told you already, liars get punished. That’s why those two aren’t allowed to touch you and you,” he thrusted up, a cough jerking your whole body and drool ran down Seungcheol’s shaft, “you don’t get to come on my cock or my fingers. Now, take Daddy’s cum like the good whore you are.”

He began to fuck your throat to the fullest now, tip being the only thing left in your mouth before he rammed his hips forward, repeating this motion until tears streamed down your face, your pussy throbbing from all the need and neglect, his cock finally pulling out of you - only to have his hot and thick cum land all over your face and neck, his moans of your name only making you needier. Cheol fell back into the cushions, his cock still in his hand.

“Good girl, such a good girl. Common, show us how good you can make yourself come, isn’t that what you did in your stories, too?”

Your eyes widened, realizing that you did this to yourself. Your head was cloudy, only thing on your mind was to release and so you didn’t wait any longer, leaning back on the couch, back hitting the armrest as you spread your legs, letting two fingers slip into you, while the other hand was squeezing your tit, back arching as your hips chased that sweet orgasm you earned for.

“Fuck, look at you. Such a good whore, so, so needy.” Cheol lazily stroked his softening cock, enjoying the view of you with his cum all over you, fucking yourself with your fingers.

Vernon, meanwhile, had finished into his boxers approximately around the same time as Cheol had shot his load onto your face. Now, he kind of regretted it. Seeing you like this, the way you fucked yourself, the way you whimpered, cried, tears mixing with the cum on your face, both dripping down your chin and onto your chest… he just continued jerking his cock, wondering if he could just come again.

And then there was Seokmin, still seated the same way as when this had begun, just that there was a very obvious bulge in his pants, hurting from how hard he was. He tried to steady his breathing, but he knew the second you started fucking yourself it was over for him. He was right.

Once you reached your high, the orgasm rushed over you with so much force you sobbed loudly, liquid shooting out of you as you rode out your orgasm on your fingers, whimpers and sobs continuing to fill the air. Seokmin moved, just slightly, and his cock came in contact with his pants, just a tiny bit of fraction. He moved and he came untouched, ropes of white filling his briefs as he felt his fingers dig into the armrest of his chair, his cock twitching over and over in his pants, his breath heavy.

“Good job, baby, did so well for Daddy.” Cheol was quick to pull you up, wipe away the cum and tears from your cheeks to instead feed them to you, your lips sucking on his digits with exhaustion.

“Oh fuck-,” Vernon’s eyes rolled back as another orgasm hit him, just a bit of cum shooting out his worn out cock and he fucked up into his fist three times before sinking into his chair, completely spent.

Cheol got you tissues, cleaning you up with care while Vernon had excused himself to the bathroom. Seokmin still hadn’t moved.

“This was okay, right?” Cheol whispered to you when you stood up, your clothes all back in place. You nodded, patting his cheek.

“Yeah. I like myself some good old voyeurism, Cheol,” you smiled, your tired bones yelling at you to go home.

“Do you still want me to fuck them?” You asked then and Cheol laughed, caressing the back of your head.

“Now, it is them who will want to fuck you, baby.”

Seokmin felt their eyes on him then, felt the way red crept onto his cheeks. He was wearing black, so maybe if he got up it wouldn’t be visible that he literally came without touching himself. Slowly, he raised from his chair, and watched how Cheol and your gazes wandered right to where he hoped they wouldn’t. While you felt your exhausted pussy clench, Seungcheol smirked cockily.

“Now, won’t you look at that? Our little Seokminnie came untouched. How cute.”

The words hit Seokmin deeper than they probably needed to. Clenching his jaw, Seokmin walked past you and Seungcheol, opening and slamming the door behind him to go to the bathroom and hopefully manage to clean himself up. How convenient he always had another suit hanging in the closet.

It had been five days. Five days that Seokmin had to live with his boss giving him that look. It’s like Seungcheol knew exactly how to get Seokmin to doubt himself. And perhaps that was true considering they had known each other since college. Seungcheol the big business major who then went abroad and Seokmin who was doing well and still somehow ended up being Seungcheol’s assistant. It wasn’t a bad job, more so the opposite. Or at least it had been for the longest time. Now, Seokmin wasn’t so sure. Was this still a good job he liked going to when all he could think about was you and how you looked spread open on that couch he had sat on countless of times before? All of that combined with Seungcheol’s knowing grin and the unspoken words that somehow still echoed in Seokmin’s mind whenever his superior walked by.

Every night since then Seokmin had laid in his bed with his cock fucking his fist, thinking about you. It was dirty and wrong and bad and yet he still did it. Did it every time his back hit his mattress. The images of you were burned into his brain and there was nothing he could do but hope it would be over sooner rather than later.

Work was fine, apart from that. He had a whole lot to do and was able to distract himself by going to meetings, driving across town to check up on the factory, by going to lunch with partners and finally by finishing reports that were actually Seungcheol’s job. Normally this was alright with him, Seokmin didn’t mind doing Seungcheol’s work, knowing exactly how busy he was. But today, five days after he had seen you split open by him, Seok felt very differently.

“I have this phone meeting now, don’t I?” Cheol came to a halt in front of Seokmin’s desk, holding a Starbucks coffee in his hand. Seokmin nodded.

“Yup.” He didn’t look up at his boss, instead continued to eye whatever was on his screen. Cheol snorted.

“You really gonna be like this, Seok? Common, it happened to all of us before. Coming in our pants, I mean,” the condescending smirk was back on his lips, “you know, when we’re teens.” While Seungcheol laughed at his own idiotic joke, Seokmin stayed quiet, ignoring him. Eventually the older man left to walk into his office and Seokmin was left alone again.

Looking at the bottom right of his screen he saw that Seungcheol entered said phone meeting and sighed in relief, leaning back in his chair. Seungcheol was going to be occupied for the next 45 minutes and that was really all he needed. Just a few minutes without fearing his boss to walk about and make him feel small. God, how badly he wanted to get back at him. But he hadn’t dared to call you, too embarrassed about what had happened. His thoughts wandered back to you, to the way you had held steady eye contact while Cheol had fucked you. He wondered why. Why you had done that, why you had chosen to look at him. Taking a deep breath, the assistant shook his head, about to go back to work, when he heard the wooden door opening, his head quickly moving to the side. There wasn’t anyone on the agenda for this time, not even for the spot in an hour so who-

You walked in just then, a white babydoll dress on your body, and Seokmin stood up, unsure what to make of your sudden appearance. Your pink painted lips turned into a smile.

“Hi.” Seokmin swallowed.

“Hello, Miss.”

You two stayed silent for a bit, before Seokmin cleared his throat and sat back down.

“How may I help you? I fear Mr. Choi is in a meeting right now.”

“I actually came to see you.”

Seokmin froze in his spot, feeling his hands cramp and his brain come up with the craziest scenarios.

“Why?” He only managed to reply, still not looking at you.

“Well, I wanted to ask you for coffee. I know Cheol is in a meeting. He told me earlier. And I thought we could… talk.”

Talk. Seokmin swallowed down the apple-sized lump in his throat. Talk. Did you really think he could talk to you? After what he had seen? After what you had done to him? He tried to calm himself by taking another breath.

“You want to talk? About what?” He was proud of himself for having his voice appear collected when he was anything but.

You shifted on your feet, your little purse hanging from both of your hands in front of your body.

“Uh, I don’t know. Just talk. I feel like maybe we got off on the wrong foot and-,” Seokmin stood up again, his chair making a rather unpleasant noise as it slid over the floor. You flinched, eyes widening.

“Got off on the wrong foot?” Seokmin walked around his table and stopped when he reached you. Now, he towered over you, making you feel small.

“Y/N, I needn’t remind you that we were never supposed to get off on any foot. Because of your lifestyle it just so happened my boss thought we should meet.”

You frowned. Your lifestyle?

“Excuse me?” Crossing your arms, you stared at Seokmin who stared right back. He tried to ignore the strong urge to look at your cleavage, to remember how they looked all naked and squeezed by your hand.

“I don’t want to grab coffee with you. Nor do I want to talk to you. About anything.”

“Really? Is that why you came untouched watching me pleasure myself?”

Your back slammed against the wall, the air leaving your lungs as Seokmin had you pinned against the concrete behind you.

“Say that again.” His voice was low and his arm on you made your knees weak.

Perhaps, if you were honest, you had kind of hoped this would happen. It was stupid, really, stupid and making everything even more complicated, but you had been thinking about him a lot. Even when you had let Mingyu into your bed again two days ago, Seokmin had been right there, Seokmin and the way he had cum without you even doing anything directly to him. Seokmin and his thighs. Seokmin and how he would taste on your tongue. It was haunting you and you just really needed to get him out of your system. You had thought that maybe you could get him to drive you home, asking him to come upstairs. Apparently, though, you didn’t even have to think that far.

“Did you enjoy it? Watching Seungcheol fuck me? Watching me finger myself?”

Seokmin groaned, his hand moving to your throat, making you moan and, fuck, his ears began ringing. Without giving it any more thought, he pressed his lips onto yours, almost ready to have you reject him, but instead he felt your hands grab onto his collar, your purse falling onto the floor. Immediately, he deepened the kiss, his tongue gliding over your lips and you gladly let him enter. Your lips moved together in perfect sync, his tongue guiding yours and making butterflies erupt in your stomach. He then pushed one of his delicious thighs between your legs, having you gasp into his mouth when you felt him flex against your core. It felt like an instinct, the way you began rutting your cunt against his leg, his low moan filling the heavy air.

“You like getting off on my thigh, baby?” He whispered against your lips and you nodded rapidly, a whimper coming out of your mouth when he pressed himself closer against you, his thigh now moving with your hips. His lips attached to your neck, kissing and sucking on your skin and you let your hands wander off to the back of his neck, nails digging into his skin, leaving small crescent moons right there.

The stimulation from his thigh was immense, almost too much, considering how much you had fantasized about them. Your head banged against the wall behind you, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to minimize your sounds. Seokmin continued kissing your neck, hand now moving to squeeze your tit over your dress, noticing right away you went braless.

“Look so fucking pretty in that dress, shit.” He kissed you on the mouth again, grabbing your face with the hand that had previously been around your throat. You moaned into his mouth, feeling his thumb press down on your stiff nipple. For a while you just made out like that, just kissing as if your life depended on it and somehow both of you felt like that was the case. Then, when both of you heard Seungcheol’s laugh through the wooden door, Seokmin parted from you, his eyes dark, his lips swollen. Without hesitating, he picked you up from the floor and moved to his desk, his lips back on yours, biting down on your bottom lip and making you cry out. Placing you on his desk, he continued to let his hands roam over your thighs, right hand finally touching your needy core.

“All for me?” He mumbled against your ear and you nodded again, hands on his cheeks, guiding him back to your lips. You felt like you could get drunk on his kisses. Seokmin leaned in harder, while his fingers slipped underneath your panties, touching your soaked folds and moving down to press down on your sensitive clit. You moaned again, your eyelids fluttering as you felt him circle your clit, your hips almost automatically starting to move. Seokmin smirked against your lips before he continued to kiss you, his tongue finding yours right away, nothing seeming more important than kissing you. Only when he felt your hips shake, he decided to pull your panties off your legs, your ass lifting off from the desk for a second, your panties soon on the floor. Seokmin licked his lips before he finally sunk a finger into you, your face showing nothing but pleasure. He grinned confidently.

“Is this what you actually came for, baby?” He asked then and you nodded, sucking his finger right up your needy pussy. Seokmin groans quietly.

“Yeah? Naughty girl, aren’t you?” His lips found your jaw, moving down to your neck again and you quickly opened the zipper off your dress, having it fall off your shoulders in no time. Seokmin sucked in a breath, eyes glued to your tits.

“Touch me, Seokmin.” Your breathy voice made his cock twitch and he moved quickly, hand now squeezing your tit while the other added another finger, pumping in and out of you at quick speed now. Your eyes rolled back and Seokmin knew you were trying to stay quiet. He chuckled.

“Let it out, baby. Let him know.” And while in theory that sounded extremely hot, you weren’t sure how Cheol would take this - you fucking his assistant right outside his door. Still, you let out a louder moan when his fingers hit your sweet spot, the squishy part of you making Seokmin bite into your shoulder.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” He pulled his fingers out, sucking them clean, while your hands moved to open his pants, belt first, then zipper and button. You couldn’t wait to get your hands on his cock, to have him in your hand and to finally have him pound into you. Finally, when his pants landed on the floor and you saw the prominent outline of his cock behind his gray briefs, the moan escaping you now could have surely been heard by the man behind the wooden door. Seokmin moved quickly, one hand moving to your neck, lips chasing yours as his other hand grabbed his shaft, your legs wrapping around him as he finally sunk into you one inch at a time.

“O-Oh, Seokmin!” You cried out and he cried back, forehead resting against yours. Only when he bottomed out, all of him safely pushed inside, did he move his head, his lips now right by your ear.

“I’ll fuck you better than he ever could, baby. Make you cum harder than he ever will.” His words make you clench around him, your head dropping back as he began fucking you, the desk making noises that neither of you believed could stay unnoticed. His hands gripped your hips as he continued to fuck into you, your mouth hanging wide open, hands holding onto the edges of the table, his dick so good there were stars around your head.

“God, look at you. Gonna fuck you stupid, baby.”

He picked up his pace, moving forward and raising one arm to move some of his documents to the side, having you lay down flat on the desk, your head hanging over the edge now. You looked absolute angelic and perfect, he couldn’t help but twitch. Your cunt kept on clenching around him, almost as if she never wanted to let him go again and, fuck, if anything Seokmin felt just the same. His hands dug deeper into your skin, his grunts having you arch your back and when he pressed two of his fingers against your clit, circling it like he had done before, you couldn’t help the cry that escaped you, your legs spasming around him as you felt your orgasm rush over you. Seokmin felt you throb around him, felt the waves of pleasure that erupted you and he moved quicker now, eyes focused on the way your tits bounced with every one of his thrusts. He knew he was close, fucking you through your orgasm and continuing to rub your clit, your pussy spent but still asking for more.

“S-Seokmin, do-don’t stop!” You almost screamed, your voice full of need and Seokmin’s head felt like it was about to explode.

“Yeah, take it like the good whore you are, fuck!” He leaned forward now, hand now behind your head to steady it as he kisses you hungrily, his hips still rutting against yours, getting that second orgasm out of you just as he feels his own approach.

“Gonna cum, baby.” He mumbled with your tongue on his lips, your cry finally getting him over the edge, hot white spurs of his pleasure painting your walls as he fucked you and now him as well through your orgasms, the desk hitting the floor repeatedly at this point, the sound obnoxious and so obvious.

Obvious and obnoxious to the person behind the wooden door who had recognized your first moan and hadn’t been able to concentrate on the meeting ever since. How fucking dare you, he thought, fucking Seokmin right outside his door. Seungcheol had wanted to go out there and drag you in here, finish the job he knew he was the best at. He didn’t though. He knew how you felt about your challenge and as much as he hated it - he wanted to respect you. So, now there he sat. His cock hard hearing your noises, knowing exactly what you looked like when you made them, with three old dudes on the phone talking about whatever. He had muted himself at some point when the desk outside began rutting against the floor too loudly. He made a mental note to get these nailed to the floor.

Seungcheol also recognized your cry as you came, his cock twitching uncomfortably. He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat and pulling a hand through his hair. Thankfully, about fifteen minutes later, the meeting was cut short because one of the partners had an emergency and so Seungcheol said his goodbyes and left the call, immediately jumping up from his chair to hurry over to the door, opening it swiftly.

There you were, seated on the edge of the desk Seungcheol knew Seokmin had just fucked you on. You turned around to look at him, jumping from the desk with an innocent smile on your face. Seokmin had stood in front of you. He had kissed you. Seungcheol had caught you kissing Seokmin. His hand was about to cramp, that’s how hard he balled it.

“Y/N.” Cheol said sternly and your eyebrows shot up.

“Seungcheol I-,”

“I am taking you home. Seokmin, I need you to cancel all my meetings for the day.”

He didn’t give either of you a chance, instead he grabbed you by the wrist and basically dragged you out and to the elevators. The atmosphere was cold and you knew that it was most probably because of what he had heard. You bit your lip, glad you had thought about grabbing your purse after you and Seokmin had parted and he had gotten you some towels from the bathroom.

The kiss after… it hadn’t really been planned. But once he had helped you clean up, his cum dripping down your legs and all… his face had been so close and then, suddenly, you were making out again. Not with any intention, you both were worn out, but just because you could.

“Cheolie…” You pouted up at him, but Cheol ignored you, instead taking his car key out of his pocket and continuing to drag you along when you reached the garage.

He placed you on the passenger seat and then moved to the driver’s seat. The drive was silent. Cheol didn’t say a word and you felt like you should probably give him the space he needed right now.

When he finally parked at your apartment complex, he also finally looked at you.

“You kissed him.” He said. You were confused.

“That’s normally what happens during sex, yes.”

“No. After. When I came out. You kissed him.”

You blinked at him a few times. Then, you grinned.

“Choi Seungcheol, don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

“I am. Extremely. I told you I want you to finish your challenge, I even picked the guys for you, Y/N.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is you kissed him after. Like you kiss me.”

Your heart clenched inside your chest. Quickly, you undid your seatbelt and instead leaned forward, placing your hand on his cheek.

“Cheolie…” You pouted again, but he averted his gaze, his cheeks slightly red. You let your teeth sink into your lip.

“Daddy…” The whisper made Cheol look up. He was still semi-hard.

That’s how you found yourself with his cock down your throat and him fucking up into your tight heat. As it seemed neither of you could have an adult conversation without a certain situation being in the way.

“God yeah, no one takes my cock like you, fuck.” His head was leaned back against the headrest, his mouth hanging wide open as he used your throat to get off, to forget.

“You want only my cock, I know you do, want only me to fill you up, want only my cum to breed you, my little whore.”

He mostly spoke to himself, almost like a pep-talk and you gladly let him, your tongue swirling around him as you hollowed out your cheeks.

A knock on the window made him still inside your mouth.

“Oppa?!” The voice was muffled through the glass.

Jiwoo’s eyes were as wide as could get, but somehow grew even wider when she made eye-contact with her best friend who was currently getting throat fucked by Jiwoo’s older brother.

header credit: @playmetheclassics

#svthub #svt smut #dokyeom smut #dk smut #dokyeom x reader #mingyu smut #scoups smut #seokmin x reader #svt x reader #ot13 #seventeen smut #challenge ma au #mingyu x reader #scoups x reader #seungcheol smut #seungcheol x reader #svt fanfiction #seventeen fanfiction

628 notes · View notes

heyidkyay · 6 months

Text

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-One

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors Note: This is a long one, it took me a while but hopefully the waits been worth it? EMOTIONS is all I'm going to say.

Warnings: Lots going on- talks of car crashes, alcohol abuse (both in the past) also some previous thoughts on trauma and different coping mechanisms

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

It takes a second for change to implement itself, though it can take a while longer for its realisation to truly hit.

…

I could hear him.

Bustling his way around my kitchen, singing quietly as he worked on the breakfast he’d promised the night before. Tins clattered, the kettle whistled, and the fridge door rattled closed, all whilst I padded my way towards him, pausing in the entryway to simply take in the sight I’d been gifted.

I grinned over at Teddy, who was currently tiptoeing on the wooden stool I had tucked away for whenever he felt inclined to help me cook, and then at Matty who seemed happy enough with making him giggle whenever he chose to lean in close to sing by his ear.

“Thinking this through… It's like, one,”

“..TWO!” Teddy laughed back when Matty pointed at him, beaming brightly at the sight of the man’s all too amused face.

“Yeah, ‘cause I'm in love with you-”

“I-I-I-I!”

It was something I’d never thought to even picture, let alone see, my son staring up at a man with such adoration and pride. The two of them simply belonging. The whole scene made me ache with a wanting for it to never stop, but even the best of things had to come to an end I supposed.

Matty turned, a smile painting on his features, only to pause when he caught sight of me, watching them from the doorway. He narrowed his eyes, then gave me a sly smile, before he placed the plate he’d been holding down on the counter and shuffled on closer, arms stretching out towards me as he continued to sing along to his own song. I mean, the ego on him.

“… I’m in love with you.”

It was hard going, attempting to dampen the grin that pulled at the corners of my mouth, especially when Matty wrapped his arms around my hips and started to sway us to and fro. He raised his brows up at me, fully expecting me to finish off the song for him, so I rolled my eyes and laughed the final line out, accompanied by a much louder Teddy, “I-I-I-I-I.”

Matty leaned in close to press a quick kiss to the corner of my mouth, his tangled hair tickling my cheek. He chuckled lowly to himself when I wrinkled my nose at the feeling and tried to escape from his hold, but did eventually let me go.

“What are you even making?” I asked the pair of them around a fond smile, crossing the kitchen to ruffle Teddy’s curls and open up the little window there. I sniffed lightly. “Did you end up burning something too?”

Matty rolled his eyes at that and shook his head with a tut, before he moved to pick up his plate once more, sliding past Teddy and I to grab at the toast which had just popped up. “No.”

“Liar.” I laughed with Teddy, picking him up and settling him on my hip whilst Matty turned his back on us to start buttering the bread. “What’s with the big breakfast then anyway? I thought you had to record today.” I asked him, praising Teddy quietly for the way he’d spooned some sugar and two teabags into a pair of matching mugs for us.

“Later on,” Matty answered me in a quiet murmur as I peered over his shoulder to nick a fresh piece of toast. “Oi!”

Grinning around the bite I’d just taken, I was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn’t completely charred. “Better than the last batch.” I told him honestly and with a wry smirk.

Matty just shook his head at me, but even as he turned back to the task at hand I could see the tiny beginnings of the smile he wore. “Said I could cook.”

With a sarky hum, I could only reply, “Does toast even count as cooking?”

I was simply swatted away with a tea towel in hasty retort and Teddy squealed, wriggling to be let down.

“Okay, okay!” I relented with a laugh of my own before I slid on over to press a grateful kiss to the side of Matty’s neck. “It’s very good, merci mon amour.”

I pulled away with a grin when I felt him tense beneath me, gesturing to Teddy for him to go ahead and grab the milk for us from the fridge whilst I began to pour the hot water into the tea he’d started.

“What are you up to today then?” Matty asked after having cleared his throat, tossing the butter-covered knife into the sink before he looked over at us. He thanked Teddy proudly when the little monster hurried back from dumping the tea bags in the bin to point at the man’s given cup. “Lifesaver!”

Teddy giggled happily.

Matty’s question had me chewing on the inside of my cheek as I went about lifting Teddy into his usual seat at the kitchen table and laying a plate in front of him. I smoothed down his tousled hair and didn’t quite look in Matty’s direction when I finally said, “You know, the usual… Quick trip to the shops, phone mum, speak to Finn, maybe pop into the park. I hear they’ve put in this new little greenhouse by the pond, you know, just across the bridge?”

I’d thrown it in there, hoping that he might just brush over it. But then Matty didn’t offer me an answer of any kind, so with nothing else to occupy myself with I slowly peered over to where he still stood, propped up against the kitchen counter.

He was staring down at the bowl of fruit he’d prepped sometime earlier, almost as though the grapes had suddenly grown legs and the banana pieces had turned purple. I sighed quietly to myself and felt my shoulders drop an inch before crouching down to whisper in Teddy’s ear, “Go turn on the tele for me, yeah? We can eat on the sofa today.”

Teddy’s entire face lit up at the very prospect and was so eager in his haste to hurry into the living room that he almost toppled out of his chair. I chuckled in fond exasperation, helping him down and handing him his plate with a quiet caution before allowing him to run off.

It was then that I turned my attention back to the main issue at hand.

We hadn’t spoken much of Finn and what had happened back at the studio. I’d given Matty his space after it had all gone down, allowed him the time to mull it over and hopefully forget the words that had been said, but I knew that had mostly been wishful thinking on my part.

Still, I was kicking myself for it now. We’d been good. Things had really been looking up; at work and at home, with Teddy and Matty, and then with Matty and I. Stupidly, I had thought that this might just be something we could have simply plastered over and left to settle, because admitting to the fact that things weren’t alright between two of the most important people in my life just wasn’t something I was ready to face yet.

I’d been selfish in that regard though, it seemed. Because of course Matty had taken the brunt of it all and pretended to shrug it off like it was no skin off of his nose. Leaving me to realise all too late just how much this whole thing had affected him.

“Matty.” I called to him softly before I gently rested my hand on the crook of his arm, testing if I was welcome. When he didn’t immediately shy away from my touch, I slid in behind him so that I could press my forehead to the curve of his back, to where that little dip in between both of his shoulder blades resided.

Thoughtlessly, my fingers trailed over the hem of the jeans he’d thrown on that morning, toying with the two belt loops which sat at the very centre.

We stood there for a long moment in the quiet space of the kitchen, the food going cold but neither one of us really caring. It was only when I felt some of that tension finally ebb in his shoulders that I slowly wound my arms around his middle, smiling slightly when I felt his hands take hold of mine at his front.

“I hate this.” I admitted to him, voice so faint it was muffled by the fabric of his t-shirt. His fingers squeezed my own.

“I know.” He told me after a small pause and I felt him raise his head to gaze out of the small window sat opposite. “I know, Squeaks. Me too.”

I squeezed back.

“I’m sorry we haven’t spoken about it either. That I let it fester. I just wished, hoped even, that you might not linger too much on it, that things would- I don’t know, just end up working out. But I was stupid.”

Matty heaved a weighted breath and I let my eyes slip closed at the motion before he carefully turned in my grasp. He stopped to stare down at me, lifting a hand to tuck a strand of stray hair behind my ear, thumb brushing over a whitened scar I had yet to hide with makeup.

“Don’t. There’s no need.” He murmured to me, though his gaze was focused on the slow movement he’d just made. “Talk to him. He’s your mate, it’d be weird if you didn’t. But, I don’t know. Reckon I just might need some time. That alright?”

I was already nodding before he could even finish his sentence, more than okay with that. “‘Course it is. Though I don’t know much about talking with him, I’m betting on a screaming match. I’m still fuming with how it all went down.”

Matty gifted me a soft chuckle, and although it was hollow he had tried and that was what mattered most to me. It would take time to move past this, I could understand that. “Let him explain first, yeah?”

I frowned, brow pinching with it. “What do you mean? What’s he got to explain?”

He smiled, one of those soft dopey ones of his, the kind he often gave me whenever I’d said something silly or he was humoured by my confusion. “I get it, Mouse.” He sighed quietly, “I don't like how he went about it, it was cheap, shitty even, but he was just looking out for you, babe.”

My frown deepened and I didn't care to give his words much thought. “There’s looking out for me and then there's being a massive prick, Matty.”

With a huffed breath of a laugh, Matty trailed his thumb down my jaw to skirt over the bottom edge of my lip. His eyes finally met mine. “He went about it the wrong way, but he’s been good for you, baby. Looked after you and Teds for years, got you through some hard times, and so for that I give him a little leeway.”

My expression softened.

Matty’s fingers pinched my chin as he coaxed me back up to meet his gaze.

“Do that for me?” He asked, and who was I to say no to an ask like that?

Instead of answering him though, I simply leaned in and kissed him sweetly, cradling his jaw in my hands so that I could thumb over the tops of his cheeks. I wondered, momentarily, where I’d gotten so lucky.

–

A kid in the studio had both its perks and disadvantages, Matty had soon come to see.

Squeaks had been messaging Finn not long before he’d gone to set off, slowly pulling out some clean clothes from the ever growing pile he kept adding to each time he went round to her flat, whilst Teds completed his phonics, sat on the bed.

He’d kept calling out to Matty whenever he’d stumble onto the next, asking him to sound it out for him before trying to memorise it himself. Matty had enjoyed it- enjoyed all the time he spent with the little monster as a matter of fact- but helping him with the lessons he knew that Teddy would soon carry on further into his life… He didn’t know, it just settled something within him. Made him feel needed.

He hadn’t ever felt much of that.

Anyway, Squeaks had come into the bedroom just as he’d been tugging on a jumper, one she had said she’d liked the last time he’d worn it, and mentioned that she had to get ready to drop Teddy off round Adi’s so that she could head on over to meet Finn.

Matty had tried to keep his expression fairly neutral each time she mentioned the man. Because he hadn’t lied earlier when he’d asked for her to give her mate the benefit of the doubt. But it still irked him. The whole situation did, in truth. See because he knew that he was running on fucking borrowed time here with her. He’d never claimed to have been a lucky man either, so he knew that something was bound to happen sooner or later. He was merely praying that he’d be able to hold onto this small bubble of peace he’d found for himself for as long as he possibly could.

Teddy had appeared put out by the fact that he would have to head on over to Adi’s, who still lived with her elderly grandmother. All pouty and sweet looking, proper cute in actuality, and Matty had honestly gone and spoken before his mind had even had a chance to catch up with his massive mouth.

Mouse had been just as surprised by his offer to let Teds tag along with him down to the studio, spilling out claims that it would be fine with the guys (who’d yet to even meet the tyke) and that they weren’t actually working on anything too big that afternoon (just recording the ending of a session). And even though Matty hadn’t exactly asked the lot of them beforehand either, he figured it to be true enough.

And with the relief that had visibly fallen off of Squeaks at his reassurance, Matty hadn’t had it in himself to regret the offer. So with that, he’d set to helping her get Teddy ready for the day and then headed out the door.

Thing was though, the last time he’d ever gotten the tube with a little kid had been years before when his mum had visited with Lou. And back then she’d been the one to worry over his every move, not wanting to lose him in the crowd or have him swept under a carriage. Gruesome yeah, but it was a real fucking fear Matty realised.

This time around it had been his turn though, and God, did he feel sorry for all the shit he’d given his poor mum throughout the years. Was this why parents looked so tired all the fucking time?

Teddy was good enough though, curious sure, always asking questions and pointing at everything, but he listened, held onto his hand and didn’t ever wander off. He’d enjoyed counting the stops on the train too and didn’t think much of the few stares they’d gotten on the platform and again when they’d sat down.

By the time they’d made it to the studio, Matty had felt as though he’d just gone and ran a half marathon.

It was only when Teds had crowded into his trouser leg upon first walking through the entrance that he realised that this was just as new to Teddy as it was to him, and the fact that he was now being forced into an unknown setting probably didn’t make things much easier for the kid.

Still, he had managed to perk up on the small tour Matty had given him. Wanting to ease his nerves before they ventured much further, it had just been the two of them wandering the halls aimlessly and simply nodding or smiling at the very few people who passed them by.

It was only once Matty had figured it time to head into the room the band usually booked did Teddy quieten again.

“Where’ve you been? Only texted you like twenty times!” Matty heard George huff from around the short corner they were hidden behind after he’d called out to let them know that it was just him.

Matty paused by the door to cast a glance down at Teddy, but the kid was already looking at everything the walls had to offer; the big plaques with the even bigger names, the posters and many album covers that dotted the dark paint. It was only when Matty crouched down to level with him did Teddy glance back.

“You alright, monster?” He asked quietly, wanting to give Teds a second to wrap his head around things. Matty noted that he was back to chewing on his lip again, eyes wide and unsure, but Teddy gripped onto the hand Matty silently offered him.

After a moment, Teddy nodded at the question and Matty gave him a hopeful smile. “Good, ‘cause imma need you to kick this sorry lot into shape for me, alright? I mean, I know I’m good but they can’t just depend on me for everything, can they?”

He was gifted a quiet giggle, one which eased Matty’s mind a tad.

“Matt!”

Matty rolled his eyes at the shout of his name then shook his head mockingly at Teddy, who seemed to have jumped a bit at the beckon. “Told you, didn’t I?” He tutted playfully to the boy, rolling his eyes too for added effect, “Fall apart if I’m not here.”

Teddy was back to smiling now, “Like mum.”

Matty laughed at the comparison, certain that Squeaks would say that she had a much harder job with the show than he did here in the booth. But Matty wasn’t too inclined to disagree, she worked far too hard in truth.

“Exactly, mate.” He replied anyway, then nodded in the direction of the many voices that were bouncing their way towards them, watching as Teddy peered round him once more, “You think you’re gonna be okay?”

Teddy blinked and then looked over towards him, it was in moments like these which Matty saw just how much he resembled his mum, he reckoned it was those big eyes of theirs that held so much emotion.

“Yeah.” The boy finally breathed out and so Matty squeezed his hand just once in support, before lumbering back to his feet. He stole a quick breath for himself and then started leading them both further inside.

George was stationed where he always was, by the decks, surrounded by laptops and many a monitor. Ross was sprawled out on the beanbag they’d lugged in on day three, fiddling with the bass he held in hand. Hann, however, had chosen to sit nearest to the door and so he was the only one to glance upon at their nearing footsteps.

Matty watched on as a flash of surprise flickered across his mate’s face. Brows rose and a slow blink was seen before Adam finally smiled, looking every inch the father Matty knew him to be.

“Just who might you be then?” Hann greeted cheerfully whilst tucking his mobile back into his trouser pocket. He didn’t make a move to get up off the settee corner though, something which Matty felt immediately thankful for, it seemed neither of them wanted to crowd the kid just yet.

It was with that greeting though that Ross’s head finally shot up and George turned to face them in his big fancy chair. The pair of them flicked both alarmed and shock filled gazes to Matty, who did his very best to ignore their all too familiar mugs.

“This is Teddy.” Matty acknowledged, crouching down once more so that Teds could lean further into his side whilst his wide eyes surveyed their way about the rest of the room. Matty wondered what it must’ve felt like for him, struggling to recall moments from his own childhood when his mum and dad had brought him along to their interviews to sit in the audience.

“Teddy love, these three doughnuts are my mates. You remember, the ones I’m in a band with?”

Matty let Teddy have a second, waiting quietly as the little boy dragged his gaze back towards him with parted lips, he blinked and then nodded, hands wringing the sleeve of Matty’s jumper.

Matty merely smiled, bringing the kid in closer to press a quick kiss to his head of hair. “Look, Teds. See that one there, with the funny face? That’s Hann.” He was delighted to hear Teddy’s soft laughter, however muted it was, even as Adam scolded him with an unimpressed glare. “Then in the corner there, that guy?” Teddy dipped his chin, eyes trained on the bearded bloke who was grinning away like a twat, “That’s Ross, he looks like a giant but cries when he’s hungry.”

“I do not!” Ross shot back scathingly, narrowed eyes pointed at Matty which only proved to fuel Teddy’s quiet chuckles.

“Yeah alright, MacDonald.” Matty ignored whatever else Ross attempted to say after that, rolling his eyes theatrically towards Teddy before he gestured over to where George was sitting in his chair, pushing those pretentious sunglasses he often wore up onto his shaved head. “And that one there, that’s G.”

Teddy leaned in close again to whisper in Matty’s ear, “Drums.”

Matty chuckled despite himself, loathing the fact that of course Teds would have remembered the drummer. Most did. “Yeah, mate. That’s him.”

George quirked a brow at the hushed conversation shared but said nothing on it, at least not then. Instead he just waved Teddy on over, “You want to come see? Got a ton of buttons you can press.” He added as though he was trying to entice the kid.

Matty dampened the mirthful grin that crawled up onto his face when it seemed to work though, even as Teddy tugged him along by their joint pair of hands.

By the time Matty finally got around to stepping into the booth to record a few verses a while later, Teddy felt comfortable enough to wait for him just outside the door with the three giant idiots he’d left him with.

–

A stalemate.

That was where we were currently sat.

Even with everything that had gone down, him starting this whole mess, I had been the one to go to him. To his loft where he worked most days when he wasn’t with clients, or visiting galleries.

Finn had welcomed me in with his usual hello through the intercom, buzzing me up into the building and then meeting me just past the front door. He’d been kitted up when I’d entered, still in his apron and covered in paint, the latter of which he was trying to wash off when I first spotted him.

He’d had the kettle already going and he smiled slightly after asking me how I’d been. I’d been truthful, said that I was doing good- all things considered.

There’d been an awkward pause at that, the two of us unsure on where we should then go with the encounter, but the kettle had whistled and on instinct I had turned to grab the mugs.

He had nodded gratefully, but then gestured me over to where his colourful sofa sat by the large open bay windows, joining me with two steaming brews not a minute later.

“How’s Teds?”

I licked at my lower lip at the question, peering into the still swirling mug. “Good, on Easter break soon enough.”

“What have they been working on then?” Finn asked next, because we both knew this was a safe topic, an easy starter.

“Phonics at the moment,” I replied with a small smile that couldn’t quite be helped, recalling the way Teddy had puttered around after Matty this morning calling out each sound he’d needed to learn. “He sounds them out after breakfast most days and then again at night.” We shared a brief smile, before I mentioned, “Matty’s been helping too.”

Finn hummed.

I pressed my lips together to keep from blurting out everything I wanted to say at the sound of it, attempting to stick to the plan I’d formed on my way over here. Letting Finn open up on his own, rather than come in all guns blazing.

“How is that going then?”

My brow pinched as I peered over at him from across the settee, “What, with Matty and I?”

Another hum, though this one was accompanied by a slight nod.

I was wary of how to answer Finn, especially after having learnt what the man truly thought about our whole relationship, but figured I should at least be honest.

“We’re happy.” I love him. “He’s good for me, I think.” It terrifies me. “He brings out a part of me that I haven’t seen much of since- I don’t know, maybe my first year of uni?” I let go of a breathy chuckle, picking at the wrinkled hem that sat at the knee of my jeans. “It’s been, really nice.”

When I chanced a glance back up, it was only to find Finn already looking back at me, his expression carefully set, almost as though he was trying to suss out any sort of lie in my answer. I waited a second and then he smiled. Nothing less than genuine, and I felt my whole body relax at the sight of it.

“I’m sorry for how I reacted.” Finn spoke softly, placing his cup down on a side table to slide on a tad bit closer. He rubbed at the back of his wrist before settling his hands in his lap, “I shouldn’t have gone about it the way I did, I just- You know I care so much, Mouse. And this is me in no way asking to be let off the hook or anything of the like, but, you have to remember I was there through it all.”

Frowning slightly at his words, I followed Finn’s prior motion, putting my own mug down so that I could pull a leg up under me, settling nearer.

He let go of an exhale, “I was there when you found out about Teddy, I was there before that and then after. I saw the line of broken hearts you left in your wake, chasing this thrill you sought so hard to find, and all of the games you wanted to play.”

He took my hand then and I just let him, thinking on his words, on how it must have seemed to someone else looking in from the outside. I knew I’d been a right mess after leaving home.

In truth, I’d been a mess since the night of the accident, when my whole world had been flipped on its head, turning me into this scarred little kid. Leaving me not only alone, but wanting to chase after everything I felt I’d missed out on because of it the second that I’d gotten the chance. Which had meant finding friends and casual sex, bar hopping and clubbing for days on end, looking for the next best thing to simply entice or excite me.

Finn had been there.

He’d been there through most of it, if not it all. He had watched me jump from guy to guy, get my stomach pumped at the local A&E, not just once but three times. He’d been the one I had turned to in my lowest moments, when I’d felt dirtied, when I’d just wanted to cry, or to merely laugh. He was there.

I could understand what Matty had meant now.

‘He looked after you and Teds for years, got you through some hard times, and so for that I give him a little leeway.’

“I can still picture your face, you know.” Finn murmured, stare fixed on the tight hold I now had on his hand. “That night you turned up at mine after finding out that you were pregnant. You looked a fucking state, soaking wet from the rain and wearing only your pjs.” We shared a light chuckle that echoed before drifting off. “It broke me, to see you like that.”

“I know.” I whispered in a rasp, emotions clinging to the back of my throat.

Finn only smiled sadly. “But it worked out. Enough that you seemed happy enough with what you had. And I know that Teddy will always be enough fro you, but you deserve so much. You deserve to live and to love, to have that family you’ve always dreamed of.” I went to protest but he just shook his head, “I know it’s what you want, Mouse. You don’t have to say anything for me to notice the looks you give other parents in the park, or the kids who meet their mums and dads in the school playground. I can see how much you want that, and not just for Teds. But for you too.”

I swallowed thickly, feeling all too seen suddenly.

Finn squeezed my hand, forcing me to meet his gaze once more. I hadn’t even realised I had shied away. “Does he do that? Does he give you that hope?”

The inside of my cheek had practically been bitten raw these last few days, but it didn’t stop me from chewing on it again as I looked over at Finn with a watery stare. “I think so.”

With a slow, albeit fond, tilt of his head, Finn hauled an arm over my shoulder to crowd me into his side. The two of us huddled in close on his artsy sofa that would look so out of place anywhere else.

I smiled at the thought.

“If he means that much to you, then I’ll make up for what I did. What I said.” Finn reassured me, his voice quiet in the large expanse of his loft. I hadn’t actually expected it to go this way. “But I do want to know. I want to make sure that he knows that he’s not just getting you out of this, that Teddy isn’t a deal breaker here. That he’s grown enough to understand the implications and repercussions of his life and whatever the fuck goes on with it. That he is clean-”

I opened my mouth, guard jumping right back up. But Finn just tucked my head under his chin, hand gripping at my shoulder enough to keep me there with him.

“Sobriety is hard. I understand that. When it finally comes to light that he actually is with you, that means Teddy too, and it’ll be a fucking mess. I want to make sure that he won’t fuck up and throw it all away the second shit gets hard.”

Inhaling, I could only nod. I knew what he meant, it was something I had thought about an awful lot. Too much in fact, I’d worried enough over it that I was still so wary over whether or not to broach the topic with Matty himself. But I hoped, for the first time in a long while.

And that had to be enough for now.

–

Finn’s had been an emotional affair, but not a place I’d lingered too long after our initial apology. We both still needed some time to process and to lick over our wounds.

I’d been more than thankful for it though, it had been a real weight off of my shoulders in truth, because knowing that there was a chance to move on past it without having to pick and choose, or divide my time, was something I hadn’t really held out hope for.

I was a pessimist at heart.

But that being said, I’d been quite optimistic about Teddy’s few hours spent with Matty- alone. Which should’ve been daunting in retrospect, insane even, and had probably once been, but Matty had quickly come to prove himself not only to me, but to Teddy too. So although I’d been cautious, I hadn’t necessarily been quick to stamp out the idea.

The last little excursion the pair had been on without me had gone down a treat, with Teddy having been tuckered out and fast asleep the second he’d gotten into bed, and Matty having bonded further with him somehow.

Then there had been the whole ‘I love you’ mess.

And God, if anyone would’ve told me that I’d have been the one to say it first I would have laughed in their face. Cackled loudly enough to be heard three streets over and on the very urge of wetting myself. But then exactly that had happened.

The words had been lingering in the corners of my mind for a few weeks before last night. Tittering, almost. Having started popping up around Christmas time, with the unannounced gift giving ceremony we’d shared and the incredible bond Matty seemed to have formed with my son. And had then settled in not long after that demo I’d received and the midnight visit where Matty had turned up at my doorstep in a downpour.

I hadn’t loved.

Not really.

I’d loved people, friends and family. Sure.

But someone to keep? Someone that I could call mine?

No, that had never really felt like much of an option for me. And Matty… he’d sort of come out of nowhere, hadn’t he? This mess of a man, but so very wonderful in his own way. He had really crept up on me, and looking back it almost felt as though it was bound to happen. Us, I meant. It felt strange to imagine it any differently.

Messages now

I’m here! Come get me, it’s freezing!!

It didn’t take long before his telltale pop of curls emerged from the main entrance to the same studio I had found him perched outside of during the aftermath of the big mishap with Finn. It almost felt like coming full circle with our decision to have me meet the pair of them here after just having talked with Finn.

Matty’s grin was infectious as we moved to meet one another in a quiet hello, his arms catching themselves around my middle whilst I buried my face into the curve of his shoulder.

He was warm, that was my first thought even as he pressed a chaste kiss to my head, enough so that I didn’t mind the fact that he kept me tucked up under his arm as he pulled away to lead us back inside the building.

“You get here okay?” Matty asked me once the door had rattled shut behind us, his voice travelling in the sparse lobby like area I’d yet to get acquainted with.

Humming, I answered his question with a nod, “Yeah, walked most of it, Finn had a client call out of the blue.”

Matty’s cheeks hollowed a tad but he hummed too before tilting his head over to the right, we started to walk that way. “It go alright then?”

I let go of a heavy breath, eyes surveying every inch of the studio as we wandered further inside, “As well as it could have, I ’spose. It’ll take time, I reckon, though he wants to make it up to you, too.”

Matty appeared to blink at that, the words seemed to have caught him by surprise, but he didn’t falter in his wandering, leading me down a narrow walkway.

“Are you up for that?” I pushed.

He wet his lower lip in thought, dipping his head at a maintenance worker who passed us by before looking back at me. “Told you, I’d give him a little leeway. But I wanna know more about what you spoke about first. If that’s alright with you.”

I was nodding away before he could even tack that last bit on, “Of course, I wouldn’t think not to, in truth.”

I was gifted a sweet smile and quick peck to the cheek before Matty paused, his hand catching on the handle to a heavy door. Soundlessly we slipped past it, Matty closing it slowly behind us to stop it from banging against its hinges and alerting the rest of the room’s occupants to our sudden arrival. Not that it would’ve been all that easy a task, what with the noise that consumed you the second you entered.

Matty smirked at the look that must’ve crossed my face at the sound before he held a finger to his lips, signalling me to keep quiet. I rolled my eyes but took the hand he held out towards me, the two of us creeping over to the corner that gave way to the real chaos that greeted us beyond.

First thing I took notice of was the loudmouth four year old who had seemingly taken charge of the band’s rehearsal, a sight which had me biting my lip to muffle my sudden hysteria.

George was seated by a stretched desk full of slides and buttons, elbows rested on the tops of his thighs whilst he listened animatedly to Teddy’s thoughts on whatever he had Ross and Hann tinkering about with.

The latter two were just holding onto their instruments, Ross stood with his bass and nodding along to what strings Teddy pointed at, whilst Hann was told to ‘look happier’. Something Matty had immediately snorted at, endlessly amused by Adam being told to liven up by a kid who’d only been out of nappies for a little over a year and a half.

The snort seemed to catch George’s attention though because his head shot over at the sound, which in turn forced the rest of the room to follow.

I heard Teddy’s gasp before he came bounding over, wearing a pair of sunglasses that probably cost more than my monthly rent.

“Alright, lovie?” I laughed, swiping up an excited Teddy before he could barrel straight into my legs. “You been having a good time?”

Teddy’s enthusiastic nod was enough to assure me of that but then Ross spoke up, “Should hope so, been hounding me to get this bassline right for ages, ain't you, mate?” He smiled at the giant grin he received in turn before nodding over towards me, “He’s got a proper good ear though. Should get him into it soon, especially if he likes it.”

Blinking, I could only look back down at Teddy, who was now informing Matty on everything he’d missed out on in the sparse moments he’d been gone in a tangent like ramble.

George sniffed as he made to walk on over to us which forced me to glance up again. Hann had started to take off his guitar strap whilst Ross went back to fiddling with his strings once more. Seeingly wanting to get whatever he was working on down before he had to leave for the day.

“He’s a good kid.” George commented to me, watching on as Teddy reached out to be taken by Matty, the man not even second guessing the motion of catching the boy under his arms and settling him on his hip. “And Ross ain’t wrong either. He seemed to really enjoy himself, had him messing about with the console for a bit and Matty even got him to play a couple chords on the guitar for us.” He chuckled lowly, a soft sort of smile breaking up his typically stoic features.

“Hope he wasn’t too much for you guys, Matty reckoned you’d all be alright with him tagging along but I didn’t even think to double check.” I mentioned, eyes caught on the way Teddy was now so enthralled by the story he was telling both Matty and Hann, arms stretched out wide as he exaggerated something or other.

George was shaking his head when I glanced back at him, “It was nice. Having him here, but seeing Matt with him too.” George’s mouth thinned when he lifted a hand to tug on his ear, “I didn’t think he could be like that. It’s strange, him letting someone else hog the limelight whilst he’s sat on the outskirts.”

We both shared a fond chuckle, because I could see what he meant but also, “He’s taken to Teddy better than I expected, really. It’s something I’m most thankful for, as well as the fact that Teddy seems to really like him too.”

My smile was warm, I could tell, and when George caught a glimpse of it I got to watch him almost mimic the gesture, as though he was thankful for it all too.

“You’re good for him.”

My breath caught a little at that, but I kept on smiling as I peered over at Teddy and Matty who were giggling between themselves whilst Hann, and now Ross, had seemingly taken to shaking their heads at the pair in indulging amusement.

“He’s good for me.”

…

The walk home from the studio had been spent hand in hand. The three of us just padding along the narrowing pavement, Matty more often than not trailing alongside the curb so that we could keep it up.

Teddy seemed to enjoy it though, even more so when Matty and I had started up a game with him, lifting him up off his feet so that he could swing back and forth in midair for a few brief moments.

By the time we’d made it home we were all just content to find something to eat and curl up in front of the tele, me listening to Teddy tell me all about his day with Matty whilst Matty pulled my feet into his lap.

He put Teddy to bed not long after, upon the boy’s sleepy request, and had returned about fifteen minutes later, having read a story and bundled Teddy up under his duvet covers. It had been then that I’d gotten to tell Matty more about the conversation I’d had with Finn, rehashing his words and even delving a little deeper into my past with him.

“How long have you known him again?” Matty asked me, thumb trailing back and forth over the jut of my knee whilst the tv played on low.

“Only since the first year of uni.”

Matty appeared quite surprised by that, he said so too. “Seems like longer.” I grinned tiredly at his musings, eyes squinting with it as I leant further into his side.

“It does a lot of the time, but sometimes it doesn't. Wasn’t lucky enough to have been gifted a group of bandits and made to start a band.” I teased, not unkindly, appreciating the way his hand travelled up to run his fingers through my hair. I peered up at him, “They’re all so lovely, you know.”

He answered me with an airy titter, the sound soft enough not to echo out of the living room and down the hall to where Teddy slept, “You’ve never been on tour with them, sweetheart.”

I laughed then too. “Maybe, but Teddy likes them. And I like them too.”

“I’m glad.” Matty whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head. When he pulled away, I moved to capture his hand in my own. “You have anyone like that?”

I shook my head minutely, not wanting him to disturb his position, “No, wasn’t in school long enough to make any lasting friendships and then I guess when you reach a certain age it always feels a little harder.”

A quiet swept over us then and I took the time to simply admire the few tattoos Matty's forearms held; the passport number, the box, the postcode on his inner elbow.

“Was that because of what happened?”

His voice was cautious, which was unusual for Matty and more than likely the cause which had me peering up at him, rather than his ask that had gone and broken our peaceful bout of silence.

My nose wrinkled, “What, with my scars?”

Matty gave a soft hum of assent, watching me from under a careful gaze, obviously anxious not to overstep or force my hand on the matter. I smiled at his care and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah, it shook me a lot. I mean, I spent weeks in hospital and then after that, I was on strict bed rest whilst at home.” I explained to him, fingertips trailing over the faint grooves in his palm. “I was homeschooled for a long time too and when I did finally go back, well most of my class didn’t much care for me beyond the horror story they’d been told. It grew old quickly enough though, but even so it was hard to connect with people beyond the basic level.”

Matty’s thumb had begun to trail over the skin of my wrist, settling once or twice on my pulse point before going back to stroking again. “What did happen? I mean, only if you’re alright with saying anything about it, I know sometimes shit can still be hard.”

I breathed out an airy chuckle, turning my head to hide my enamoured smile in the wrinkle of his jumper. “I don’t mind. I don’t like mentioning it with strangers much, which is why it’s not really public knowledge unless you go digging. But it was a car accident.”

I felt Matty tense beneath me but his touch didn’t stray, only became that bit bolder, the hand in my hair coaxing me to glance up at him so that he could kiss me sweetly, nose nudging at the curve of my cheek before withdrawing. I hummed happily.

“My dad was with the local police. High up, but a drinker. Only started though after this one case, and then it spiralled. My mam worked night shifts sometimes at the hospital, which was a good way away from where we lived, so it would just be him and me until she got home.”

I took a breath, realising it had been quite sometime since I’d actually spoken about the crash, or even thought of it really. The scars were a constant reminder, yes, but the crash itself was something that had occurred almost two decades ago now, so I’d had time to sort of come to terms with it. As much as I could.

Not to say that it still didn’t wear at me, it had been a big event in my life, changed things in more ways than one. Because it had also been the spark which had sent my dad packing.

“It’d been raining that night, I remember ‘cause the water had been leaking in from under the backdoor. My dad had sworn up a fucking storm when he’d noticed it but could only really stick a couple towels down, claiming that he’d fix it on his next day off.”

A light chuckle escaped me at the vivid memory my mind made up, his tall figure, the odd phrasings he would use, but nothing of real substance. I couldn’t quite recall his face, or the depth of his voice, seeing as I hadn’t looked over old videos or photos we had since I’d visited mum back home.

“It had been a bad storm, had the tides reaching the cliff peaks if I remember rightly. Which meant that the hospital had started to flood, at least the north ward where mam had worked.” I continued, enjoying the delicate caress of Matty’s thumb as it trailed up my arm, “She’d been sent home after they’d managed to move most of the patients on the ground floor westward, but her car broke down about a mile out.”

I could hear the call even now, the sound of my dad’s heavy footsteps when he’d come to wrap me up in a coat, murmuring that we had to go and pick her up.

“The winds picked up, I guess. Dad didn’t have a car seat, that was what we used mam’s car for. So he just sat me in the front seat before setting off.”

Matty’s touch faltered slightly, probably having suspected where I was headed with this before it picked up once again. “The rain was relentless and we weren’t too far from the shore so it almost felt as though it was just thick sludge falling from the sky. It was hard to see past the first metre or so.”

I swallowed, noting how the light from the tv screen stretched out across the floor and flickered each time a scene changed.

“Our town wasn’t huge, but it was big enough to warrant a couple T-junctions and the odd roundabout. There was a fourway, just up past the old baptist church, a road mostly used for when you were coming off the main motorway or headed out towards the airport. Dad had been drinking, you could smell it on him some days, but at night it was always stronger. He blew through it, the traffic light teetering on amber before it finally turned red.”

Staring blankly out across the living room, I could almost picture it. The downpour which had clouded the windscreen, the old dash of my dad’s car, the familiar scent of his preferred brand of tobacco.

I licked at my lower lip, mouth suddenly dry. “A van had been crossing. On the passenger side.” I added quietly, appreciating the grip of Matty’s hand as I carried on, “All I really remember after that are headlights and the blare of a horn. Woke up a couple days later, having missed my seventh birthday and my dad nowhere to be seen.”

I huffed a small chuckle, reaching up to rub at my eyes before turning to face Matty. I wasn’t quite prepared for the wet gaze I’d been met with or the single tear that had seemingly escaped and come to a pause on the bridge of his upper lip.

I lifted a hand up to wipe it away, smiling when he kissed the pad of my thumb.

“You’re incredible, you know that.”

I’d been called many things, but I don’t think incredible was one of them.

I leaned in to kiss him, wanting nothing more than the feel of having him close, even if that meant tasting the salt of his tears or enduring that careful way he held my face. It was everything I had needed then.

–

After the little moment I had shared with Matty the previous night, I’d gone to bed feeling a little more drained that usual, but I’d put it down to the exhausting day I’d had and the fact that Matty’d had to head home so that he could do a skype interview early the next morning.

I’d almost been tempted to say that he could do it here in the flat, but with Teddy you could never tell when the kid would be coming or going, so it was safer for Matty to stick to his typical routine.

But I’d woken up all sniffly and foggy headed the next morning. The pounding at the base of my skull had forced me up out of bed in search of painkillers, as well as the fact that it had just gone ten, which meant that Teds was already up and mulling about.

I took a couple of nurofen I had tucked away in the medicine cupboard with a glass of water and figured I’d be better getting a move on with my day than heading back to bed. I knew that Matty would be popping round sooner or later too, so I attempted to sort through a load of washing that desperately needed to be done as well as tidy away the mess we’d created last night.

Teddy had helped himself to a banana from the fruit bowl at some point but was already asking for breakfast by the time I’d stuck the washing machine on- unaware of how close to crying I’d been after I’d gone and dropped a wad of detergent on the floor.

Even so, I’d set to start on a pot of porridge, knowing he would enjoy it with either some jam or spread, but I was surprised when I heard the front door rattle shut not long later, having not heard a knock nor Teddy answer it. I went to scold him, frowning at the fact that he thought he could just answer the door to anyone when Matty appeared with a few Tesco bags in hand.

“I knocked on the window, so he saw me before he let me in,” Matty was quick to rush out, grinning down at Teddy who had since spotted his breakfast and made a dive for it. “Figured I’d grab some stuff before stopping in, knew you mentioned feeling crap last night before I left so..”

He shrugged, moving over towards the kitchen before I could even think up a reply, a little bewildered by the fact that anyone would have the foresight, let alone the sincerity to do something like this for me.

“Matty.” I breathed out, so utterly warmed by the gesture as I followed after him, “You didn’t have to.”

Matty rolled his eyes at me, settling the bags down on the counter, “Shut up, you idiot. Just let me feel like an adult for once, yeah?”

I laughed, unable to help myself, even as he gestured for me to take a seat at the table, claiming I looked a little warm and confirming it when he pressed his hand to my rosy cheeks.

“Do you ever stop?” He questioned around an exasperated smile, settling some basic cold medicines down as well as a few sweet treats. “Washing machine’s already going, the kid’s been fed, floor seems to have been swept too. How’ve you not dropped?”

I rolled my eyes at his ever growing eccentrics, though was still wearing a rather pleased smile. It was nice, I deemed, having someone look after me for once.

“I can’t stop, babe, got things to do, a tiny person to look after!”

Matty just shook his head at that, obviously not too happy with my retort, “Guess we’re just gonna have a lazy day then, yeah? Got snacks, popcorn even. Reckon Teds will enjoy it. I can even take him out to the park for a bit, just to let him run off some of that energy.”

I blinked at the maddening man stood before me. Wondering what I’d done to deserve all of the things he'd done for me. And without having even been asked.

“Haven’t you got stuff to do?” I queried, content to simply watch him unpack the shopping he’d bought.

Matty shrugged a single shoulder, wrapping up a carrier bag and tucking it into the stash I kept hidden beneath the sink. “Nothing important.”

“The interview went alright then?”

He hummed, putting a couple tins of soup away in a cupboard just above his head. “Yeah, fine. Hann did it with me, other guy was in Paris or some other, I think. Definitely French though.” His phone sounded then, but it seemed he’d left it in the pocket of his jacket which he’d gone and thrown over the back of a chair upon walking in. “Look at that for me, would you?” He asked, peering down at a carton of something or other, probably pondering over whether or not it went in the fridge.

I was only a little surprised by his request, but did so anyway, trying to find the phone in one of his many deep pockets. “Definitely French?” I prompted, smirking smugly over at him before my fingers finally found the device. “You sound so certain, Healy. Almost as though you’ve been taking notes on the French dialect, or something like it.”

Chuckling to himself, Matty flashed me a big smile from over his shoulder before turning away with a wink. “The French are fit, baby.”

I laughed lightly with a halfhearted shake of my head, then peered down at his phone, “Password?”

“0709.” He told me, and so with a slight pinch in odd wonderment I typed it in.

“Why that?” I couldn’t help but ask, only glancing up again when I heard the shuffle of his feet. I raised a single eyebrow. “What, is it like the death of your guinea pig or something?”

Matty’s face pitched itself into a hearty grimace that made me cackle. “My guinea pig? Who the fuck owns a guinea pig?” He shook his head at me, deciding it wasn’t worth the effort and instead said, “It’s the date we met.”

My eyes widened considerably. “Actually?”

With a light huff, he turned back to putting things away, “Thing gets lost or nicked more times than not, so I’m always changing my passwords. Figured I’d remember that one.”

“Matty!” I all but awed, honestly feeling the love. “You can be such a sap sometimes, you know that. The day we met!”

I received a glare in retort but I simply laughed at him before turning to look down at the message he’d just received. My forehead furrowed.

“You said you had nothing going on today!” I was quick to accuse, eyes flashing up to meet his somewhat startled face, “George’s party is tonight!”

Matty’s mouth formed a little ‘o’ before he merely shrugged, “G will get over it if I can’t make it. You need me here more, and besides, his birthday isn't even for a couple more days. They’re only throwin’ it tonight so that most people can make it.”

I looked heavenwards, hoping that the second pause would give me a little bit of strength. Did it fuck. “Matty, you’re not staying here with us when George, your best mate might I add, is out celebrating his birthday! He’ll want you there.”

“Squeaks, you’re sick. He’ll underst-”

I shook my head, “No, you’re going. I’ve got a little cold, nothing that’s gonna kill me. What will kill me though is you not going to be with G on his special day.”

Matty narrowed his eyes a tad, “Don’t guilt trip me.”

My next bout of laughter couldn’t be helped. “I’m not!”

With a scoff, Matty turned to put the carton he’d held in the side door of the fridge, shaking his head as though I was the one being outlandish. “It’s fine, alright?” He said once he’d spun back around, “I’d much prefer being here anyway.”

My head dropped to the side as I looked up at him, “Babe, please go. It would honestly mean a lot to me, but even more so to George. You know, who’s birthday it is. Go on. Please?”

Matty sighed and ended up dropping himself into the opposing chair, I slid his phone on over to him. “What about you though, and Teddy?” He asked and it was sweet, how much he cared.

“We’ll be fine.” I assured him, reaching out to take his hand, “The party isn’t til later anyway, so how about we stick with your lazy day idea and then when you need to start heading out, I can just pop Teds in the bath and get him ready for bed.” When Matty still didn’t seem too keen on the idea, I squeezed his hand a tad and added, “You can even head back here after if you want.”

He perked up at that, but was still a little resistant to the whole idea of leaving.

“I promise we’ll be fine, love.”

And oh, did I wish that had been the truth.

113 notes · View notes

oldhalloweentape · 5 months

Text

🪨Venture (OW II) x (gn) reader ⛏️

(Requested: Emotionally Stoic Reader Edition!)

(Not my Picture!)

(Request here! My first ever request for Venture, such an honor, I really hope I conveyed what was asked of me!)

- When people think of Venture, an energetic person who has a friendly air of enthusiasm to them, and you, more “actions speak louder than words” and emotionally unreadable together, they immediately assume that you two are on a whole different wavelength entirely.

- And at first, when you both first met, that was the case. You were mysterious to them, an enigma much like the various historical places they went to for their work, which caught their attention on you in the first place.

- No one can deny that Venture is a social butterfly, constantly up for seeing new things and meeting new people and eventually learning about them, which reflects in your relationship.

- Even in friendship they hope that you can be able to see Venture as someone reliable and constant, this still lives on in your romantic relationship.

- It takes time for them to realize that you’re more inclined to show through actions than emotion, showing your intention in another way, but when you do it’s like they were able to discover something that can change history.

- They naturally come to appreciate everything you do for them, love is consideration and everything you do because you had them in mind means a lot to them.

- Sloane takes note of how you feel both consciously and physically, they figure if they can write down things about you and your reaction to varying situations can be a way where they can properly support you until they inevitably know by look alone.

- This only takes a month for them to crack, easily able to deduce that certain things you do are a result of a certain emotion, inevitably becoming the go-to person when it comes to being able to figure out what exactly is making you feel a certain way.

- Much like how they are with certain dates that take physical exertion, they are quick to make sure they can do everything in their power to make sure you can continue being comfortable and that person they’ve come to know.

- They pride themselves on being able to acknowledge that you consciously go out of your way to be there for them, whether it be things like simply being there for them and caring for their well-being.

- Despite the lack of emotion on your face most of the time, Venture knows you love them and they make sure you know they love you right back.

- They’re an incredibly understanding person, giving you space whenever you need it, knowing that not everyone is comfortable with sharing their emotions.

- But if you’re simply avoiding other people and them because you don’t want to be an inconvenience, they’re determined to convince you that you’ll never be an inconvenience, not to them at least.

- Takes the time and the effort to help you voice whatever have you feeling less than the amazing person they know you are.

- While they don’t understand how you could feel such a way, they know what is like to keep their true emotions bottled up to make sure others aren’t “brought down” when they speak up about it. But they were able to overcome this and they don’t want you experiencing the same thing.

- That’s the thing about being selfless, sometimes a person forgets that they too are important in what they experience as well.

- They’re always there, loving you, and telling you reassuring things like, “I know that it feels like it’s unnecessary, but it isn’t.” Or “I won’t force you to do or say anything that goes against what makes you comfortable, but sometimes the thing that is making you uncomfortable is the thing you’re not saying.”

- Takes things like this extremely slow, wanting to build a significant bond between the two of you and not back you up into a corner.

- They truly know who you are as a person and are extremely genuine when they say they want you to be yourself.

- They love and care for you in such an obvious manner, respecting and understanding what you do though you are more subtle with your affections, and are adamant about reciprocating these gestures of consideration.

(Thanks for all the support!!!)

#Spotify #overwatch x reader #venture overwatch #venture x reader #overwatch 2 #venture ow2

81 notes · View notes

prettylittlels · 9 months

Text

I Can See You

summary: You meet Rachel's costar at the academy gala, what will happen next? (tom blyth x actress!reader)

inspired by I Can See You (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift

💋⚘️❤️‍🔥💥🍬💄

As an actress, I spend a 70% of my time meeting and interacting with actors, actresses, singers, directors, producers, and people who work in the same industry as i do. A 90% of those people are just passers, travelers that only visited my life. Only very few manage to stay, important enough to make me care for and about them: true friends. Like Rachel Zegler, for example. I met her at the 2022 Golden Globes afterparty, and we kicked off a nice friendship. And a rather weird one, might i add. Rach and I enjoy playing rather exquisite games: i make her try the most horrendous food i find, and she tries to find the perfect man for me.

-Rach, I already told you- i tell her, laughing without even trying - I've lost hope! You gotta accept that i don't have a love life!-

-You're lying to yourself! - she smiles with me- You think I haven't seen the way you look at every couple we meet?-

Maybe she was right. I haven't had a boyfriend in years, maybe I am a little touch-starved. But that was until I met him.

You brush past me in the hallway

And you don't think I, I, I can see ya, do ya?

I've been watchin' you for ages

And I spend my time tryin' not to feel it

As an actress, i spend a lot of time bring invited to galas and events. Tonights entertainment was the Academy's annual gala. I picked out a gorgeous black sparkly dress that caught everyones attention, as I imagined. Getting out lf the car, I slowly made my way to the red carpet, starting to pose for the flashing cameras. Shouts and screams came from everywhere i went. Not only for me, of course; in fact, thay were yelling Rachel's name too when i arrived. She came up to me and gave me a big hug, as we started to take pictures together. I also noticed that a certain co-star of hers, was looking our way. Don't you think I can't see you?

But what would you do if I went to touch you now?

What would you do if they never found us out?

What would you do if we never made a sound?

As an famous actress, I can't just do whatever I want and say whatever i please. The cameras are everywhere. But God, did I want to go talk to you.

'Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall from me

And I could see you up against the wall with me

And what would you do, baby, if you only knew?

That I can see you

As an actress, people expect me to be there when they need me, available for everyone and waiting for directions. But, only this time, I was waiting for something else to happen. When I walked down the hidden hallway on my way to the women's bathroom, you were there. I didn't want to do anything reckless! But here we are.

And we kept everything professional

But something's changed, it's somethin' I, I like

They keep watchful eyes on us

So it's best that we move fast and keep quiet

You won't believe half the things I see inside my head

Wait 'til you see half the things that haven't happened yet

Tom and I started dating shortly after the gala. Being with him was everything I needed: he's a gentleman, a caring person, a funny one, and of course, a very sexy one. The weeks passed and we were both as happy as ever. After the night we met, the cameras that caught our longing stares published the photos and the public strted going crazy, speculating and giving their opinion about our encounter. Oh, they have no idea.

That I could see you throw your jacket on the floor

I could see you make me want you even more

What would you do, baby, if you only knew?

That I can see you

They had no idea that how it was being In a relationship with tom. The envious fangirls wished they were me. They don't I know that I can see him for what he truly is. They don't know that I can see him discarding his clothes on the floor. Yes, even that leather jacket of his that I love so much

I could see you in your suit and your necktie

Passed me a note saying, "Meet me tonight"

Then we kiss, and you know I won't ever tell, yeah

And I could see you being my addiction

You can see me as a secret mission

Hide away and I will start behaving myself

I remember how I pulled you closer by your tie, and unbuttoned your shirt. How you admitted you've been watching me for ages. How we agreed to keep this a sceret, However, I knew he'd be like a drug. And I get drunk on it whenever he's around

I can see you.

I can see you, Tom.

#book recommendations #bookworm #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #x reader #tom blyth #Spotify

144 notes · View notes

maplleaf · 1 year

Text

《 The Prettiest of Them All 》

Giving them a 'strange' outfit after losing a bet

(Dainsleif, Alhaitham, Shenhe)

{☆} Dainsleif: Maid Outfit

- he is... an old man

- Dain knows that certain things are romanticized nowadays, but he doesn't really get why you want to see him in a maid outfit.

- though, seeing how it's you who requested it, he couldn't help but say yes. He did lose the bet after all.

- plus the stars that seemed to have formed in your eyes from excitement rivals the stars on his cape so... can he really just deny the request?

- for the entirety of the day, which he lends to you fully to fulfill the bet, he acted like a maid that he's used to seeing back in Khaenri'ah.

- old man even promised he'll do everything you ask him to for the entire day.

- by that he meant everything.

"Dain, honey, this isn't really necessary."

Dainsleif shook his head as he stood beside you, holding a tray he found in one of your cabinets. His posture is straight, the short frilly skirt and stockings he's using doing wonders to your imagination.

"You requested a maid outfit, it would be fitting for me to act like this," he stated. Yes, you did do that, but it was to see him in a cute maid outfit; not being taken care of like fragile glass for the whole day.

The twilight sword, who picked up a dustsweeper for a weapon now, cooked you a delicious meal for breakfast this morning; now he's insisting that he do the same for lunch. It's comforting being cared for by your lover, but you barely had to lift a finger the entire day, Dainsleif even helped you wear your own clothes!

You sighed, it's still worth it seeing Dainsleif in this outfit; the frilly skirt didn't cover anything below his knees and an adorable headband he's wearing. Yet, you feel guilty for making your lover act as a maid than a lover, even if it's because of a bet.

Placing a hand on top of Dainsleif's as he placed down the tray. "You said you'll do anything as my maid, right?"

Dainsleif's starry eyes looked back at yours, feeling your thumb caressing his rough hand. "Then I request you to have lunch with me as a lover," your free hand pulled the chair not so far away so it'll be right next to you.

Dainsleif chuckled, a smile formed onto his face. He didn't mind this whole maid thing, truly. Even if the design of the maid outfit isn't something he's used to seeing, he didn't mind taking care of you for the day; it's one of the ways to show his love for you after all.

The twilight maid stood straight as he finished preparing your meal, then sat down on the chair you offered. You couldn't help but smile as you took a spoonful of the food and directing it to Dainsleif's mouth.

"Open up, love," the blonde does as he's told, tasting the food he made himself. "Good isn't it," you said, or more like stated. Dainsleif's methods of cooking are simple for the sake of ease when adventuring, yet the results are always a delight.

"It's good."

{◇} Alhaitham: Nurse Outfit

- He was... not happy with this.

- He's not into wearing different outfits for fun, choosing to wear the same style of clothes everyday. But he knows what this is.

- Humiliating, to say the least, but he's not backing down from his words; honestly, losing to you in a bet is surprisingly more shocking than wearing the fontaine-like nurse outfit.

- a nurse? You could've chose a doctor and he would be happier. The outfit didn't even looked like an actual nurse outfit, choosing the version with a tight skirt, pastel green color, and a hat with the red plus sign signifying a hospital

- he sighed and agreed on wearing it, but only for half an hour and no pictures.

"You're stranger than a hydro slime that prefer being in the desert."

"Shh, nurses don't insult their patients, 'haitham." Alhaitham scoffed as he continued reading the words on his book, "you're not even a patient."

Closing the page to go to the next one, you leaned on his broad shoulders. "I might be one if my heart gets broken by that attitude," it was a joke, clearly. Alhaitham knew you didn't mind his distant persona, you were able to be in a long-lasting relationship with him after all.

The acting grand sage is currently sitting on your lap, a book in his hand and your hand holding onto the page waiting for him to finish his reading. His legs are cross legged, the tight skirt had preferred it and he wasn't in the mood to have his legs spread out.

Alhaitham sighd as he tapped on your hand, a signal for him to go to the next page. "Why did you even want me to wear the outfit if we could do this without one?" Alhaitham asked, or more like demanded an answer to.

Your hand slowly turned to the next page before idling on the page beside the one he's reading. "You look cute with this," you complimented, "well, cuter than usual."

The last sentence came with a chuckle, one that made Alhaitham's cold heart melt into a puddle, even if his blank expression says otherwise.

Meanwhile due to the lenght of the skirt, Alhaitham felt a particularly cold wind hits his legs and almost made him shudder, perhaps it was a bad idea having your kitchen window open.

It's not uncomfortable per se, but seeing as he's so used to using long pants, his body simply doesn't feel familiar to it. Noticing the slight shake, you began to worry.

It's been getting colder slightly in Sumeru. The rain season started and the bright and warm sun had rarely hit the city nowadays, stranding the place of the usual warmth.

Not wanting Alhaitham to get another cold wind hitting him your legs starts to shift and your hand getting him off your lap. "Hold on, I'll get a jacket for you," a push on your chest made you fall back to the couch. It's strangely attractive how strong Alhaitham's arms are.

"You made me wear this ridiculous outfit yet leaving at the same time? Since when were you this rude," Alhaitham scoffed, placing your hand back to the pages and the same position as before. The acting grand master smirked at your dumbfounded and reddening face, how couldn't he?

Coughing to relief some embarassment, your hand had slightly gripped the paper stronger than before. "Right, of course. I couldn't just leave my favorite nurse alone," you tried to regain some control back.

The two of you continued on reading after that, for every page that Alhaitham finished your fingers would delicately move on to the next page.

By all mean, Alhaitham finds it strange how you feel attracted to an outfit. Though seeing as he's the only one you want to see in this oufit, he'll count it as a win of his own.

{♤} Shenhe: Bunnygirl + Blazer overlay

- "Oh, Yelan showed me this once." "what."

- Much like Dainsleif, she doesn't really get it. Though, it is her first time wearing a blazer as an overlay for the outfit, you gave it to her saying "This'll make you look cuter than ever."

- the addition of a headband with bunny ears made her slightly confused but brushed it off since you looked happy when she wore it.

- the entire day, the two of you played card games and showed Shenhe some recent Fontaine inventions.

- It was a rather relaxing day, even if she's wearing a strange bunnygirl outfit you found being sold by a travelling fashion designer. Shenhe doesn't mind and you almost melted at the cuteness of your lover.

- the only complaints she had about the outfit is that you can't place your head on top of hers due to the headband.

Your heart is close to melting into a pile of goo as Shenhe looks at you with a neutral gaze. This isn't the first time you wanted her to wear something, though usually it's matching clothes you have for eachother.

"Just one more thing," you mumbled, taking the bunny eared headband from the counter. Shenhe leaned against your hand to match your height. Backing up from your girlfriend, you gazed at her happily.

A balance between elegance and cuteness, the blazer did well making her look sophisticated. This moment just couldn't be wasted, not even a second! You started to search for something you bought another Fontaine invention.

Shenhe turned her head to look at your direction. Though the woman perked up in curiosity as she saw you held up a box whilst yelling 'got it!'

Shenhe watches as you took a device from the box, her own curiosity beating her as she read the words on it.

"A memory preserving box of wonders," Shenhe read on the side. There was an influx of Fontaine inventors coming to Liyue for the Lantern Rite festival. In that time, you had the dazzling opportunity to buy certain clothing made by their fashion designers and some inventions they sold.

"It can take and develop a picture at real time, the result would be similair to the one you usually carry around," you answered, head on her head before realizing it's an uncomfortable position and backing away. Shenhe flinches as you placed your head beside her ear instead.

"Now smile to the camera, love," you told her, a flash of light taking over both of your eyesight as the picture was slowly being developed within the machine of the kamera.

You were still behind Shenhe, waiting for the results. Though the adepti's student turned her body around to see you on an eye-to-eye level. She carefully took off the headband and placed it on your head instead.

"Shenhe, what's wrong?" you gave a nervous laugh, fearing the headband or the outfit might've made her uncomfortable. Shenhe's beautiful eyes looked back at yours with no hint of being flustered by the distance between you.

"You didn't place your head on mine because of it, I don't like it," she admits, making you confused on wether to sigh from relief or chuckle at her. The picture from the kamera slowly developed, colors emitting from the once darkened frame.

Now with your head on top of hers, both of you appreciated at the picture. Shenhe even kept it alongside the picture she has of her old home, carrying it around everyday as a reminder of you.

#genshin impact #genshin x male reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin #alhaitham x reader #dainsleif x reader #dainsleif #shenhe #shenhe x reader #shenhe x male reader #shenhe x gn reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x male reader #dainsleif x male reader #i think i made alhaitham ooc a bit #genshin headcanon #drabble #☆works

554 notes · View notes

anika-ann · 1 year

Text

Pomiluj me (Love Me Tender) - S.R.

Type: medieval/fantasy/fairy tale AU; standalone (NOT a part of this medieval AU)

Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 10k 😁 best possible division if needed is at the first divider

Summary: Knight Steven Rogers and his brothers in arms are returning home after having tackled an unruly creature terrorizing the people of Starkerbürg. Upon encountering an injured woman, Steven offers to bring her – carry her, truly – back to her home. How could he deserve a knighthood if he left a woman in distress to her fate, after all?

But not everything it as it seems. And love blooms in the most unlikely of places.

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, unprotected sex (shocking in medieval times huh), bit of angst, tons of fluff, himbo knights in BBC Merlin style (long live the legends), knight Steve ‘cause he’s a warning, Slovak language ‘cause I can

A/N: Title from the song which inspired the story, Pomiluj mě (Love on Me/Love Me Tender)...tumblr cannot handle an “ě “in their title 🙃 Lyrics, translation and link here, you’ll find a few lines in the fic as well - truly recommend. DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics

A/N/2: AO3 says this is my 100th work (as posted here anyway) and I’m brushing 1,680k of words written according to the counter. Which… whoa. And it’s almost six years since I first posted a marvel fic 🥺 Enjoy!

Alone, you only wander in the dark Chased by the cold I shall light up the torch you’re guarding

Should I be worried about you That all you do is take When are you coming back to me?

The cavalry moved rather slowly.

The noble men appeared a far cry from the polished image known from books, even as they had attempted to wash in a river. They reeked of battle, smoke and blood still; and the drying blood in their wounds was just as red as that of ordinary men, the scent of sweat and fear having seeped into their clothes and armour. And yet, their vests carried the sigil of Starkerbürg with pride, signaling the knights’ dedication to the protection of their kingdom.

With only horse left, they truly might make a pitiful sight, certain weariness to their step; but an air of victory and camaraderie made for a picture of life instead. Laughter sounded between the group, a joke thrown around here and there, a tease about a wound each of them suffered, particularly the youngest one. Despite those, true concern for their new friend, Sir Parker, could be read in their eyes. He was the youngest to ever been dubbed in the history of Starkerbürg; it was no wonder the good men assigned him the role he would have played had the bond they shared been one of a blood family. The youngest of brothers was as much made fun of as protected, since he was eager to prove he deserved the honour to ride with the knights of Starkerbürg just like any other. Now he sat on the horse in front of Sir Barton, the eldest, as they made their way back after successfully ridding the kingdom of a horrific creature: the chimera had been believed to only exist in old tales until it brought terrible and painfully real suffering to the people of the west of the kingdom and so the king’s loyal servants were tasked to ride at dawn five days ago.

“Alright, alright, let us leave the poor lad,” Sir Barton said, patting the young Sir Parker on his shoulder a little too hard. “He shall do better next time.”

Peter smiled over his shoulder gratefully, having started to feel not humbled, but humiliated.

“Yes, yes, we should let him be,” Sir Maximoff agreed, side-eyeing the two riders mischievously. “We should talk about how you moved like an old lady.”

The collective ooooooh and chuckles might have as well come from a group of children, rather than grown men, causing Sir Barton to glare at the cheeky lad he called a friend.

“Old ladies are wise and worth of respect, Maximoff. You could learn a thing or two from them, as you had learned from me,” he scoffed, feigning offence. “Do not forget who taught you how to swing a sword, kiddo.”

“There is a point in what Clint is saying,” Sir Wilson hummed good-naturedly, raising his eyebrow at Pietro in challenge.

“Maybe. Does not change the fact he’s grown seven years older since then, while I have grown seven years more mature.”

The explosion of laughter following his statement was louder this time.

“In your dreams, maybe,” Sir Barnes snorted, elbowing his best of friends, Sir Rogers. “About as mature as this one was when he used to pick his battles with guys twice his size, eh?”

Sir Rogers, Steven to most, only smirked, speaking up for the first time in a while, since his thoughts were far far away. “Should we get technical, we all took up on an enemy twice our size only yesterday morning.”

“Oh?” Sir Barton feigned surprise. “Listen to the guy. He might tell you what brought the monster to its knees next – an arrow straight to its eye. Remind me, Maximoff, whose crossbow it was that fired it?” he asked pointedly, grinning down at the man walking by their horse, earning an eyeroll.

“Did it even have knees?” Sir Lang questioned, “All I know is that it was a nasty, nasty thing.”

“Nastier than Hydra? Cut off one had, two shall takes its place? I truly believed that was only a legend…” Sir Wilson said, a visible shiver of disgust shaking him.

“Not sure we can compare the two… maybe Barnes or Rogers could, huh?” Sir Maximoff suggested.

Steven’s face darkened; he did indeed remember the hydra creature very well for it nearly cost his best friend his arm. The scars still littered Bucky’s skin, from the back of his hand all the way up to his shoulder; Gods had blessed him enough that his ability to use his arm remained intact, even as its appearance did not.

As for the strange chimera they had slayed yesterday… it was true that Steven had gotten more familiar with it then he would have liked. He could recall it with uncomfortable clarity: its foul breath smelling of death on his face, feeling as if it had seeped deep into his very bones when he had finally thrusted his sword through its heart. He could still hear the clang of teeth near his neck, a near death sentence.

No, he would rather not compare the two. He would rather not think of either of the creatures at all.

“Why us, Maximoff? Because I nearly lost my arm to the former and my best friend to latter? No thanks,” Sir Barnes hissed, face turning ashen as well.

Steven instinctively reached for his friend, squeezing his arm, casting a concerned glance as he was torn away from his own dark memories.

“Buck…”

“Are you jesting? Sir Rogers was incredible,” Sir Parker cried out excitedly, having four of the knights groan, for Steven’s bravery – or idiocy, should anyone ask Sir Barnes, truly – was all the youngest knight had been talking about for the majority of their journey, causing Steven’s cheeks redden under his beard, sense of pride and satisfaction battling the terror of the memory. As for the remaining knights, well; while they did not diminish Steven’s important contribution of delivering the fatal blow, they had grown annoyed at the constant babble.

“Sure he was, kiddo.”

“Oh yes. They should probably knight him. Oh wait-“ Sir Wilson said, causing the men to laugh.

“Yeah, a set of deadly teeth perhaps three inches from his throat? Let him have all the glory and Princess Morgana’s hand too,” Sir Barnes grumbled, sending his friend both a proud and irked glance.

A sudden rustle of leaves and a woman’s yelp followed by a thud caused them all fall silent and turnbattle-ready in a split second, snapping in the direction of noise.

However, there was little need for caution. Their intruder barely appeared dangerous: the peasant woman observed them with wide eyes and forehead scrunched in pain, blossoms of common elder, spilled all around her like precious silks of a gown instead of the worn fabric of the simple shirt, shawl and ankle-length skirt, speaking thousand words of what she had been doing until she had fallen. Her fingers were clutching at her left foot, a clear sign of her ungraceful landing. The tree was by no means tall, but that should not mean the fall was what they could call comfortable.

For a moment, the group of knights stood frozen, rendered speechless as much as the poor woman who found herself face to face with not one but seven of the crown’s most loyal servants.

Steven, perhaps the kindest of them all, was the first to snap from the shock of an unexpected disturbance of their journey, releasing the grip on his sword, never having drawn it from its sheath. He took several long strides to the young woman, instantly capturing her attention.

“My lady, are you quite alright?” Steven inquired, gently as he realized his large frame, accentuated by his armour, might intimidate the poor sweetling.

And yet. Just as the question left his lips and his gaze met hers, he was the one rendered mute all of sudden.

Steven had never seen anyone more clearly, he was certain; and just as sure he was of the fact that no woman could ever hope to encompass sincerity and beauty in her eyes only as the one he was facing at the moment.

Her smile was but a shy little thing, pain masked by gratitude for the knight’s care. He was a handsome one, of robust built but with delicate lines to his face, bright blue irises with a speckle of green, plush lips framed by a short beard; distantly, she imagined his wide shoulders would barely fit the doorframe of her cabin – of her hut, truly. She found the imagery enticing, almost as much as the gentle tone he had spoken with despite his giant frame.

“’Quite aright’ seems accurate, sir. I am not hurting much beyond my left ankle,” she admitted, even as her source of discomfort was evident from her hand still covering the affected area.

Steven’s brows furrowed slightly in worry, yet he made no move, spoke no words, even as his lips parted. Instead, his eyes roamed the woman’s face, searching and fascinated. It was the silence which prompted his comrades to enter the interaction.

“Do you think you can walk?” Sir Wilson asked as he stepped forward – a movement barely acknowledged as the woman did not shift her gaze from Steven still.

“Wobble, perhaps,” she said, the corners of her lips briefly turning downwards. “Could perhaps one of you assist me? I should be most grateful for your chivalry.”

Sir Barnes could scoff at the absurdity of her wording; even as she suggested she would welcome anyone’s aid, her fixation on Steven was ridiculously evident. It almost scared him, how steadily she watched him; even as ladies’ interest in his best friend’s company had increased significantly along with how Steven’s muscles had grown, the way this woman observed him… unsettling him for some reason.

“Oh! We should borrow you the horse for a while-“ Sir Parker – bless him, the youngest and the purest of heart of them all – cried out, soon silenced by a more sombre voice of reason of Sir Barnes.

“Kid, you lose your leg should you put your weight on it now. Believe me, I have almost lost my arm to the same foolishness.”

“…oh.”

“Well, I suppose one of us should support you and walk you to your home,” Sir Barton suggested nonchalantly, preparing to dismount the horse. “The most experienced one of us, perhaps?”

“Truly? Is that so, Clinton?” Sir Wilson questioned as he eyed him, his tone carrying wryness of a man who would not care for nonsense – unless it was one that could earn him a great deal of fun. “Why you?”

“I have a pair of very well-working eyes for one,” the older man uttered, causing sir Maximoff to snicker silently.

“So do I and yet I would never offer!” Sir Lang opposed as soon as he understood the meanings behind Sir Barton’s words. “Must we remind you how inappropriate that would be, since you have a lovely wife and three kids at home?”

“And a knee that knows a rain is coming at least two sunsets ahead?” Sir Barnes added for honestly, the foolishness of Sir Barton’s idea battled the one of the youngling’s.

“Ugh, alright then. Spoilsports.”

Sir Maximoff, unsurprisingly, grinned and shrugged as he stepped forward. “Ah, well, fellas, it seems-“

“I can do it. I can even carry her.”

Sir Barnes sighed, an involuntary reaction to best of comrades choosing this moment to snap from his reverie. Speaking of foolishness.

Not once had Steven’s gaze left the beautiful woman since the very moment he had laid his eyes on her, almost as if he was drawn by ancient power whose pull not even his virtuous heart could resist. The pull had been literal too; while the movements had been subtle, step by step Steven inched closer to the woman, now standing barely three feet from her, way too close even as he had been the first to spring forward.

Sir Barnes would be amazed and certainly more than amused at his friend’s antics, had it not been for the fact the scene was as fascinating as disconcerting. For a myriad of reasons. Beginning with-

“You are injured as well,” Sir Wilson noted pointedly.

Sir Wilson appeared to be the only of the men aside from Sir Barnes who had not lost all reason in the midst of all of them having acquired an expression of awe and smugness. In all fairness, the reaction of the knights was nothing short of understandable, for Steven, Sir Rogers, who had kept from many women who had been rather literally battling for his attention, seemed enamoured all of sudden. And of all creatures, enamoured by a beautiful, yet the most ordinary of women. He appeared if not utterly lost to the fabled love at first sight, then certainly lost enough to abandon all reason.

“Oh no, if you are severely injured, I could not possibly-“ the woman resisted, gathering her skirt in attempt to stand up as if to prove she was considerably less inconvenienced by absence of aid than it had originally appeared.

Naturally, her efforts were doomed to failure – and just as naturally, Steve had been there to catch her, promptly supporting her weight. She had barely caught herself, one palm flat against his chest, the other on his bicep, lips parted in silent surprise; and much to the amusement of all knights, in awe of his strength.

Sir Rogers was certainly not the only one of the pair who appeared smitten.

“Thank you, good Sir.”

“Sir Steven Rogers, my lady. I should be happy to aid you,” he pronounced, the words ‘with anything’ unsaid but clearly implied as he helped her straighten up as much as her own injury allowed. “I have not been injured severely. Worry not.”

Needless to say, Sir Barnes would argue; bruised ribs, several cuts, more so when one of them sat right above his brow, should be considered severe enough not to carry a woman in his arms… particularly when these injuries were coupled with a heavy blow to the head. Before, Sir Barnes had not been sure how strong of a hit Steven had taken, but now, seeing how absent of any common sense Steven was-

Ah. His best friend was being quite himself, now that Sir Barnes thought of it.

“…so we are to ignore there are at least three better candidates whose ribs are not bruised or-“ Peter muttered in low voice to his companions, all but earning a warning slap to his healthy leg as Sir Lang gently shushed him, himself charmed by the romantic ballad-worthy scene in front of them.

“Seeing as she does, I suppose we do too,” Sir Maximoff scoffed lowly, tilting his head to side as he observed his comrade, suddenly frowning, his voice dropping to a whisper. “And so does he. Is he alright? He looks… strange. Has any of you put something in his water?”

“You are saying this as if you were not as miffed about him being chosen by her as I am,” Sir Barton huffed, sourness turning into humour at the other man’s misery.

Pietro’s gaze torn away from the pair, their downright love-sick gazes suddenly difficult to watch; it almost felt as if by looking at them, they were prying on an intimate moment. Pietro thought it curious, for he had never had any issues of laughing loud at the displays of affection his fellow knights had offered in the Tower tavern for everyone to see, but he did not want to examine it too hard. He could find joy elsewhere once they had made it to the city, with no shortage of ladies no doubt willing to offer comfort to the heroes of Starkerbürg.

“He is one lucky bastard,” he sighed, patting the horse’s neck, preparing to take off.

“And lucky he might get…” Sir Wilson sing-sang quietly, causing the group to laugh as their gazes once again appreciated the almost palpable spark between the unlikely couple, exchanging knowing glances as the woman gasped when Steven sneaked his arms under her knees and back, lifting her into his arms with ease despite his gear weighting him down.

“Alright, it is settled. We are certain you are safe with Sir Rogers…” Sir Barton called out, entirely ignored by the pair who instead kept observing one another without as much as a blink, as if they could not bear losing even a fraction of the precious time they were given. “For he is-- they are not even listening to me, are they? No one cares about me anymore, I truly must be getting old-”

Sir Barnes sighed again, realization dawning to him; one he should never share with his companions, but one he would for certain inquire about later when Steven returned to the castle.

“We shall move then,” he muttered, beckoning others towards the road, not before sparing the couple a last slightly disapproving glance.

He feared not for his most precious friend’s safety; he only feared for his heart, too big even for the impressive size his body had grown into since his early days as a weakling. At the moment, it was his mind Bucky feared for, since it almost seemed feeble under a spell of a beautiful woman. A spell no one dared to break.

As the group walked away, each of their steps was uncharacteristically silent; until they believed to reach enough of a distance to have a boisterous laugh about Sir Rogers no doubt to be rewarded for his chivalry. The sound bothered not the pair as they smiled at each other softly, the woman’s thumb brushing over Steven’s sternum, covered by worn chainmail.

The simple touch seemed to reach his soul; his breathing, having already eased since he had first caught her, cleared completely, the ache in his bones gone. The woman’s smile widened, silently prompting Steven to start walking. He was not one to hesitate, his feet moving almost of their own volition.

“You are not obliged to carry me,” she said, a teasing note lacing her gentle voice. “I slowed the landing enough. It is nothing but a bruise.”

Steven shook his head, appearing as if he was barely holding back a grin. “But I must, my lady. It is my duty as a knight of Starkerbürg.”

She pursed her lips, one corner lifting in a smirk.

“Oh? Is it so, my good sir? Hm... speaking of knights of Starkerbürg, Sir Rogers,” she emphasized, a playful spark appearing in her eye, “your friends act like children.”

Undignified for a knight for certain – yet who was he to diminish the already scraped reputation of men who truly unsubtly jested about him taking advantage of the very woman in distress he was to help – Steven snorted.

“Don’t I know it.”

“But Samuel might not be wrong…“ she said, voice equally full of amusement and promise. “Set me down, Steven. You must be tired.”

Tired he was not. Not ever since he had met the woman’s eyes moments ago and recognized their beauty and depth as familiar. But who was he to deny a lady?

And a lady she was, for all she was and was not. They might have jested about it together, but in Steven’s mind, she was precisely that and nothing less, no matter what any half-wit of this kingdom would think. Slowly, he lowered her back to her feet, his heart thundering in his ribcage in anticipation as he focused on the sounds surrounding them.

Content with only gentle whisper of the wind and songs of robins for a company, his worn hands cradled the woman’s cheeks, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones, heart trembling when she leaned into his touch, her lips brushing his palm.

In return, the tips of her fingers ghosted over his brow, the nasty cut closing at once, without a single sting of pain. She focused on that aspect often, even as she knew he would try and not as much as flinch for her benefit, much like he had not when she healed his ribs earlier.

“Thank you. They must be far enough now, I am sure,” he whispered, stepping closer so their bodies aligned and nearly merged in one. “Do not hide from me, bosorka moja. Let me see you, beautiful.”

Her smile turned a little coy, even as her soul sang at his sweet words. Steven was quite a master of compliments; but not a shameless flirt or a rake. What he said always came from heart; that beautiful, beautiful heart he had sworn belonged to her and never made her question it despite their situation.

“As you wish, good sir,” she whispered, fingertips sliding down his cheekbone, repairing the darkening bruising in their wake, before she turned focus on her own transformation. “Close your eyes, love, release me for just a moment.”

With a sigh of disappointment – but eager to oblige – Steven lifted his hands an inch, missing the lovely heat under his touch at once, and let his eyes slide close. Soft light caressed his skin, flickering behind his closed eyelids as her features shifted, her cloaking spell dispersing.

Steven did not fight the smile tugging at his lips as he allowed himself to open his eyes again just as the glow was dying out, welcomed by the sight of his beloved in her true face. The spell she had casted changed her features but a bit, only enough to protect her from those who would still hunt her upon mere suspicion of her being a magical creature. She appeared just as human as before; but should a half-wit still nursing grudges against magic even century and half since its dark side caused people to suffer ever recognize her as anything else… Steven did not wish to imagine what hell would have been raised; even as it would have been one he would fight to death against.

Indeed, she appeared human even in her true form to most, Steven assumed. Yet, to him, she appeared almost ethereal; she always had. From the very moment she had walked into his life and took his world by gentle storm, slowly nursing him back to health day by day from multiple wounds which would have been his doom. She had risked her own life in process, revealing her talents to anyone, let alone a knight of Starkerbürg, but for a good deed, she had barely even hesitated.

Beautiful, powerful, brave and endlessly kind; and now, by the blessing of gods, even as Steven failed to be a proper gentleman, his.

He let his fingers slide into her hair, tilting her face up to feast his eyes on her features, heart humming pleasantly as only a person who owned it could make it hum.

It was clearer than the skies that she felt just the same. Drawing him close, not waiting for his prompting, she rose to her tiptoes and brushed his lips with hers, sweet and healing. No cut was there for her to fix, but it appeared that whenever she kissed him, even with no magic involved as she had claimed, Steven’s often weary soul was lifted.

He followed her lips, earning a hearty chuckle but no protest, a hand on his nape as her fingers curled in his hair as well.

“Bosorka moja,” he said softly against her lips before tasting them again, greedy for every stolen moment, every stolen kiss she was willing to give him.

And she would give him a lifetime, much like he would give his own to her.

But there was not a single reason to do it right where they stood. One more peck to his lips and she escaped his arms sneakily, only to grab at his hand with both of hers, tugging him down the now familiar path.

“Come, rytier moj.”

And so he followed her, without a word of protest. He would follow his heart anywhere.

Their destination was by no means far, they were in no rush. Unbeknownst to Sir Barnes, his thoughts had been precisely on point – the pair of lovers cherished every moment spent together, may it be walking with purpose or wandering.

This day, they chose the former, the hut soon appearing in a barely-there clearing among the trees. Steve’s lips curled in a smile on instinct as despite the humble outside state of the tiny house, he knew what he would find upon entering with his love and lover by his side. A home. Not only hers; theirs. A safe space for their love.

As soon as they entered, the air smelling of herbs and dried meadow flowers, ones he had picked and gifted her the last time he had escaped his knight-bound duties, hit his nostrils and widened his smile. It was met with her own, soft and welcoming, heartbreakingly beautiful; ache echoed in his heart, its emptiness present for the past few days without her suddenly dissolving into nothing.

He brought her hand to his lips, a gentle kiss to her knuckles before releasing her, so they could begin their routine.

From the mountains Wind, dust and defiance is rising I lay your armour to your feet Don’t let my skin get cold at night

Wind from the mountains

Wind, dust and defiance is rising I lay my armour to your feet Don’t let my skin get cold at night

You made your way to the pot, a simple curl of your wrist lighting up a fire to heat the water for tea. Steven’s gaze followed you as he stood by the door, blindly unclasping his belt, putting away his sword and chainmail. He had no need for weapons nor armour in his home; vulnerability in this house was no sign of weakness, but one of strength. It was a privilege he took upon proudly as you were blissfully aware.

Then, you ruminated through your dried herbs in search of chamomile and lavender, even as you knew the exact placement of every single item; once you heard Steven lose his armour and step forward, you looked over your shoulder, offering an unassuming smile – despite assuming quite a lot from the many encounters you had shared before.

“Tea, my love?”

Like clockwork, like the most beautiful habit, you barely got the chance to speak the question before he stood behind you, fingers cradling your chin, angling your head further to meet your lips again, an indulgent smile tasting indulgent smile as neither of you ever believed a tea was to be served. Not yet at least.

Where your first shared kiss after days of being apart tasted of longing, relief and soft smiles, this one tasted of feelings much more primal. Your breath hitched in the briefest surprise at the intensity, yet you responded in earnest, shifting to accommodate his large body, your hands finding purchase of his broad shoulders as soon as you spun around. He rewarded your cooperation with enthusiasm; you yielded to his force with a breathy laugh once he allowed you to retrieve the air he so lovingly stole from your lungs.

“No tea then?”

A hand previously grasping at your hips wrapped around your back to pull you to his chest, three steps leading you to walk backwards until your back brushed the makeshift table, Steven’s lips as urgent as sweet, his beard scratching at your sensitive skin, each breath tickling your lips.

“Would rather drink from your lips, love,” he whispered to your mouth, the only chance for both of you to breathe in before his lips returned. His hold tightened to ground you against his advances, trapping you in a cage of love you could have easily escaped should you wish; yet, you only withdrew for a moment, a cheeky retort on your tongue as your need for him grew with every touch.

“That could be arranged, I believe.”

Glancing up, you were met with his darkened eyes, his hand firm as he held onto your jaw; and yet, his thumb caressed your skin gently, the desire blending into softness and amusement at your bold demeanour. You lifted one corner of your lips in a smirk, gasping when his mouth possessed yours again, teeth tugging at your lower lip, his arm still holding onto your waist – the only thing keeping you from practically laying on the table, his hips pining yours against the hard surface, fingers squeezing your flesh.

Now there was a thought; Steve’s weight rendering you weightless as he’d coax peak after peak from your body laid on the dark wood as an offering to Gods at an altar…

The very thought, however, was fast to dissolve as Steven’s hips rocked into yours, allowing you to feel the outline of his burning need, having you clutch at his shirt as friction teased your throbbing core. He swallowed the needy noise he elicited from your lips, fingers slipping under your shirt, thumb pressing into your skin just above your hipbone as to guide your movements.

You shuddered upon his lips travelling down the column of your throat, teeth grazing skin alongside the hem of your shirt above your collarbone; your hands began their own quest over the hard planes of his body, appreciative of his truly impressive physique. Steven’s fingers roamed as well, caressing and squeezing, your given name but a breathy whisper when his fingertips stroked the underside of your breasts.

You nearly missed his words due to the blissful sensation, but you had heard the silent plea spoken so many times before there was no mistaking it.

“Dance for me, my love?”

Your swollen lips curled in a playful smile as his fingers carded through your hair, kiss brushing your cheek and jaw and finally your mouth again.

“Oh? Is that what you wish for, lover mine?”

His gaze followed the patterns his fingertips whispered over your face as if they were brushes painting the most precious canvas, a curious contradiction to his eager kisses and hardness.

“Would you hold it against me?” he inquired in a hushed voice, stealing yet another kiss from your waiting lips, his nose gently caressing yours before his gaze bore into yours with intensity again, “that I wish to see something so beautiful and so alive after a battle?”

The amusement slipped from your face, features softening as your heart sored at the subtle confession. The knights of Starkerbürg were full of jest and gestures so great they might border on insanity when situation allowed it. Their bravery was a thing of legends, as much of a legend as the thing you knew they had gone to fight days ago and were only now returning, having bested a mythical creature much more vicious and deadly than yourself, crushing life with not more than one bite to a man’s flesh.

Yet, for all their heroism, even knights, even the most precious of them all – even your Steven – felt the disarming fear of death itself, cruel and all too powerful. You would be always be more than willing to remind him of the power of life for a change, until you’d release yours with your last breath.

Ad so the answer was no – no, you would not hold it against him, whatever he would ask. Never him.

Standing on your tiptoes, framing his face with your hands, his whiskers and already messy hair ticking your palms, you told him as much, sealing your deal with a kiss.

Easing his grip, he allowed you to push against chest, easily giving in as you lead him to walk backwards until his calves hit the frame of your bed. He sat down obediently and you leaned into him, stealing another brief peck.

“Please, bosorka moja,” he pleaded once more as your forehead touched his, taking a moment to breathe him in, reminding yourself that both you indeed were still alive; and thus, such victory should be celebrated with joys life itself provided. “Dance for me, my love.”

Smiling, you placed a finger over his lips to shush him at last, gliding several steps back, mischief appearing in your eyes as his own followed your every movement hungrily, more so when you slipped out of your shawl, the shirt far from brushing the waist of the skirt suddenly hanging low on your hips, providing Steve with a silver of skin of your stomach.

There was no music but the howl of the wind carrying the occasional note by chaffinches and dunnocks and rustles of leaves. Yet, an old old melody echoed in your heart, guiding your movements and filling you with power and confidence of all witches that came before you and enchanted men into giving away their kingdom without as much as a fleeting thought, surrendering their strength and their hearts, all that only to be blessed with a single sinful glance, a single touch of magic as old as humanity itself. For a single drop of passion.

You could feel it fill the air, the longing and thirst for life and body, your lover’s eyes turning dark, hypnotized by the simple swirls of your wrists above your head, at your sides, following every slide of the back of your hands over your ribs, over your bare skin, his visceral need to replace your touch with his own. Drinking in but the smallest motions of your hips, breath hitching at the briefest tilt of your head back or to side, his lips tingling to attach themselves to the exposed skin of your throat, to taste, to suck a bruise. The force with which his fists curled into themselves seemed to ignite sparkles in the air, bringing a sensual smile to your lips as you let your eyes slip shut, feeling the energy hum louder when you moved closer; a sweet thunder within you, within Steve, all around you.

The thud of Steve’s knees on the floor came with his hands grasping your hips; needy but not firm, only to feel the slow movements of your hips and allow you to continue swinging freely. You released a breath, head tipping backwards as Steve’s hot lips found the now burning skin of your stomach, nosing his way up an inch at a time, beard tickling, an open-mouthed kiss following and causing you to shudder – with pleasure, with overwhelming power.

“Steven-“

“Keep dancing, bosorka moja,” he hummed into your skin with a pleased smile, teeth grazing over your belly button as if to distract you from his rough but deft fingers slipping under the waist on your skirt, inching it lower and lower until it hit the floor. Cold air brushed over your bare core, Steven’s lips trailing to the junction of your thigh, his smile growing wicked. “I shall help you dance.”

The very first flicker of his tongue over your pearl had you stutter in your movements, a whimper leaving your lips as Steven’s fingers dug deep into your flesh of your sides and thighs, a wordless warning not to cease the dance he had pleaded for. With a shudder of a breath, you willed yourself to continue, naturally rocking onto his hot tongue as it swept over your weeping core with indulgence, stars flashing behind your closed eyelids at the contrast of the slick muscle to the scrapes his beard left behind.

“Steven-“

“Shhh,” your lover whispered, the sound gentle and teasing at once, the pleasant vibration against your sensitive flesh causing your fingers to find way into his hair and grip, only earning another appreciative hum. “Keep dancing, love.”

And so you did. Leaning into the affection so willingly offered, you succumbed to a different kind of dance. Fingers flexing in Steven’s hair upon a particularly smart swirl of his tongue, breathless praise, calls to Gods and desperate pleas for more more more spilling from your lips. Meeting his ministrations without shame; guiding him, opening up for him as the liquid fire of pleasure spread through your veins, turning into an inferno when you found your thigh on his shoulder, completely out of your doing, an instinct to chase relief – but thoroughly appreciated as Steven’s arm circled your bottom, pulling you impossibly close and loving you deep enough to set you on fire entirely.

You let the primal hunger consume you as you climbed to your peak, crying out when you reached it, head spinning from the intensity; waves of bliss washed over you, body pliant and relaxed. You shrieked when you suddenly found yourself losing your footing, for a brief moment frustratingly empty and cold; and then you were spread on the table, your lover’s lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves, burning blue gaze swallowed by lust firmly set on your face as two thick fingers entered you, latching onto the last aftershocks of your peak. You reached a second high with dizzying speed, unable to tear your gaze away from your giving – and so, so wicked – lover. Gods could possess you at that moment and you would have not felt as if you ascended to such heights as you had while indulging on Earthly pleasures with him.

A soft trail of kisses and pets soothed you as you came down, a breathless chuckle bleeding into a sob when you noticed few of your possessions floating in the air, your magic quite literally having exploded outside of you.

Steven’s lips curled into a smile against your jaw and then you were tasting your essence – as well his much-satisfied grin – on your tongue, revelling in the warm weight of his body covering yours. It seemed your Steven had a few magic tricks up his sleeve too, mind-reading being one of them. You smiled into the kiss, using your grip on his hair to pull him even closer. He could never be close enough; and as he stood between your spread legs, his hard bulge brushing against your bare core, his lips and hands eager, you were certain he felt just the same.

“So beautiful for me,” he whispered to your mouth before retreating, darkened eyes sparkling with lust and pride as well as affection.

“And yours,” you hummed, fingers raking through his beard appreciatively, chuckling when fresh hunger flashed in his pupils. Oh how possessive your knight could be… how much joy it brought you to tease him. “Should I show you?”

A breathy yes was your only answer and so you gripped his shirt, using the fabric for leverage to you sit up. You kissed him again, hands sliding under his garments, gliding over his stomach, your magic flowing freely and healing whichever injuries you had missed earlier.

Easily ridding him of his shirt and pants in between sweet encounters of lips and shedding your clothes as well, you wrapped your legs around his waist, a faint whisper of ‘bed’ enough to have him pick you up without protest; on contrary, with quite the enthusiasm since his hardness throbbed when you led him to sit down with you in his lap.

“Missed you… love you… need you,” you confessed, his breathy voice echoing your sentiments as your lips brushed over every patch of his skin in reach, fingers wrapping around him and guiding him inside you, bliss surrounding you both when you finally sank yourself down his length in one fluid movement.

You rested your forehead against his and simply breathed, living in the moment of utter bliss; a different kind, not the almost primitive one, no, not the wild one. This moment belonged to serenity. Sharing air and warmth with your lover, tender hands appreciating the wide planes of his muscles, strength radiating from flesh and soul alike. And love. Always love.

As if he was able to read your mind once more, his lips sought out yours, a declaration of love indeed, simple, honest and unyielding. His thumb gently traced the pattern of your tattoo, its ink reaching from behind your ear over the side on your neck, a swirl over your left collarbone and spreading over your shoulder. I love you as you are, for all you are, his touch whispered even as no sound left his lips. And even if you felt no shame for your nature, your Steven’s acceptance caressed your soul as did his diligence; not once he had forgotten his ritual of reminding you that with him, your existence was not merely tolerated – but adored and celebrated. When you first understood the significance of this habit of his, tears had stung your eyes, kissed away before they could roll down your cheeks.

“Ľúbim ťa,” you had breathed out then, a love confession in the old language, and ever since, you had not failed to say it once in response to his gesture.

Then, rough fingertips carefully followed the line of a fine silver chain carrying a tear-shaped indigo sapphire, a token of affection usually hidden from plain sight, protected; a promise of faithfulness even as you remained unwed. You had no need for gemstones, but you understood its importance, the significance of the gesture; it made for your heart warm and safe upon its possession and for Steven’s heart lighter a pound of the burden of your circumstance.

Your circumstance was not one of the simple ones, a forbidden love one might say; in which you were the only forbidden thing. Forbidden to even live, let alone love or be loved; an abomination to some. A magic wielder, no doubt seducing the most honourable with her dark powers, for what other reason could be there for him to take liking in you? It mattered not that there was less than a little true to it, that your bond was of much purer nature, as common and as human as the blood you drew from your own veins to cast protection spells over your beloved. True did not matter. Should you reveal your relationship now, Steven would have been painted a victim; and you would have lived no more.

An easy circumstance yours was not at all; but your dedication to each other was to conquer all troubles. And in the meantime, you shall have moments of serenity and of passion, of you and him.

The smallest shift of Steven’s hand pulled from your thoughts, breath hitching when his fingers slid an inch lower, brushing over your nipple. Your hips buckled on instinct, drawing a groan from your lover’s lips, a grip on your bottom encouraging you to move.

Who were you to deny pleasure to you both?

Smiling, you withdrew, index finger covering Steve’s lips as he tried to follow, a discontent furrow to his brow. You tilted your head, thumb brushing over his swollen lips.

“Would you like me to dance still, lover mine?” you inquired teasingly, his disapproval at your actions wiped away in an instant, replaced by fire in his eyes.

Gentle flames of affection battled those of desire, his warm palm caressing over your lower cheeks, before he snapped you impossibly close, causing you to gasp – and to question who it was who had the upper hand here. Your hand fell to his chest, his heart beating wildly under your palm, an answer of its own.

Both then. It seemed you were both on top and simultaneously under the other’s thumb. Such a beautiful thing.

“Would you, bosorka moja?”

Your smile grew, lips attaching to his once more and planning to remain for as long as possible, first careful rock of your hips the first step to reach for the stars – together this time.

“Oh Steven… for my honourable knight? For you, my love? With pleasure…”

An absent smile played on Steve’s lips, his fingers running up and down your arm, appreciating the softness and warmth of your skin. An air of comfort and contentedness hovered around you as he held you close, fast asleep in his arms, cheek pressed to his chest as if the very sound of his heart against your ear lulled you to peaceful slumber.

Despite the sweetness of the idea, Steve felt his brows furrow in concern. While as he was perfectly happy to serve as a pillow for his beautiful lover, aware there was barely any greater expression of trust than a shared sleep, worry seized him for this occurrence was beyond rare. He once asked whether your incredible magic was an effortless as you made it seem, met with a weary chuckle and a kind, if a little condescending smile and a confession that if seen weak, your kind would have been an easy prey. Having understood he had taken your answer as a testimony to the lack of trust you had laid in him, you had also admitted that while the teachings of your ancestors had been deeply ingrained in your instincts, part of your reluctance to show your weakness to him was precisely what weighted his conscience just now. You simply could not be bothered to make him fret too much.

The fact you had let sleep take you alone was truly worrisome and Steve pondered just how exhausted you must have been. Even as the fresh memory of your breathless pleas for more and the cries of pleasure as you rode him till you both tasted heaven were nothing short of precious to him, he could not but wonder whether he was taking too much; your magic healing his wounds, your body a sanctuary to his love and fears.

Perhaps he had. But who could ever blame him?

Steven had never known a woman like this – unafraid to give, just as unshy to take; one or the other, but never like this. He had fallen for you and had fallen hard, body and soul. Yes, should anyone call him selfish, they would not be wrong, because Gods, did he take what he craved and lusted – and yet. Yet, every moment with you felt ethereally right as your still unconscious form drifted closer, almost as if you sensed his thoughts and wished for them to evaporate. And so far, they always had, dissolved in your easy smile when you refused his offer and plea to come with him; to bring you to the castle with him so he could give as well, give more, provide and protect and worship you in his home, your new home, true home where you would not have to hide in the middle of the woods like some sort of an abomination.

It is not the time yet, my love. It will come, you would always say, washing away his guilt with a sweet kiss and a promise. One day. One day I shall come with you and we should be unabashedly happy with no fear, free to be you and me.

He had let your words and touch sooth him, always; but not today. Your body having melted into his had his protective instinct flare up, determination set in his very heart. He should convince you today, to make you his and him yours as two people in love deserved. He shall make an honest woman of you in the eyes of the whole kingdom at last. It was what you were worthy of, for you were worthy of anything and everything. And with you… he believed he deserved the same. He could not stand it anymore. Parting ways with you, only to hope for your next stolen moment to come the very minute after he had left. He could no longer bear you existing so close and yet so far out of his reach.

No, he shall convince you today, insist more than ever. He wanted this, he wished for nothing more than to lay to sleep like this every night, with you. You deserved it. You deserved the world and he shall lay it to your feet, for his honour and his benefit at once.

Any other day, you would have berated yourself for having fallen asleep; but knowing the changes your body was going through, weariness settling in sooner than it used to, it only brought a smile to your face when you found yourself waking to Steven’s tender fingers carding through your hair.

The night was slowly falling. Wandering the woods in darkness would have been an unnecessary risk for anyone, even for a skilled knight with your protective spell over him; your lover was more than aware of it and still, you could tell it pained him to bring you out of your slumber nevertheless. It was no feat to kiss his guilt away, smiles adorning your faces, noses caressing, hands wandering, nearly leading you back into the clutches of lust.

He sat patiently on your bed now, half dressed as you took your blade, his eyes following your every move with more attention than ever as he absently sipped chamomile tea; he found himself deep in thought, such was obvious. It was not difficult to guess where his mind had trailed off to, for it had always been the same.

His voice was soft when he spoke the words, a soft wrinkle on his forehead as your cut your finger and stood between his spread legs.

“Come with me.”

A sad smile played in the corner of your lips as your heart fluttered at his plea, one he never failed to deliver, even as your sigh must have sounded weary every time.

“I cannot. Not yet.”

Steven was no half-wit, which was more than could said about many of the people of Starkerbürg. He knew precisely why you could not come; why you never could, at least not yet. Magic was still forbidden – as if it was a choice, as if one could choose to stop breathing and still live – hated for the pain and destruction the dark twisted witches and sorcerers had once left in their wake, misusing magic to spread fear and suffering. It was not just that all magic wielders were still paying the price for what their ancestors had done. It was even less just that you, not having done any harm unless you needed to escape imminent danger to your life, should live a hermit life, too far from your love and lover. Yet it was how times were, still.

But you were no fool either. You could feel Steven’s uneasiness growing heavier every time he left without you, for it went against his very nature, against the need to keep you close, to hold you, to love – to protect you from harm. You had no doubt he would lay his life for you. You could not allow him to do that, not when the time was finally growing near for your love to be cherished as any other, time for your kind to be free. You must not lose him to rushed foolishness. He was no longer only yours to lose.

“I would protect you,” he promised, steely conviction in his husky voice.

As sweet as the sentiment was, you could not but smirk, a knowing gaze reminding him that should the situation require it, you could very well protect yourself, even as your true gift – the one special talent every magic wielder had, naturally developed with barely any practice – was of the healing kind. Should you truly wished, you could burn villages with terrifying ease; gods knew sorcerers and sorceresses had done this and more with a single snap of their fingers.

Steve took no offence in your teasing gaze; but the determination in his own remained unshaken as you begun to draw the protective symbol over his sternum.

“The time is yet come for people to understand the blessings of magic again, for its light to outshine the darkness it had sowed,” you reasoned, as much as it pained you. “The time shall come soon, I promise. It is simply not today, my love.”

Long fingers circled your wrist, gentle but firm, having you cease your movement, your gaze meeting the brilliant blue roaming over your face.

“I miss you. All days, all nights. I-“ he paused, licking his lips, a shadow of hurt passing over his face. “Don’t you?”

Your heart soared, a sigh leaving your lips. Steven was not easy on you today; but your conviction and determination was just as strong as his. You had to be brave and so did he. A few days longer, that would be all you needed. The right time would come. You were certain of it, even as it was nothing but a whisper of intuition in the back of your mind. Wait, the voice said, the time grows near, but you must wait.

“Do not do this, rytier moj,” you scolded Steven, letting gentleness seep into your voice. “It does not suit you. You must know I love you. I miss you too. And I worry. All days. All nights. Therefore…”

You wiggled your fingers, Steven’s shoulders sagging as he released you, an exasperated pout to his lips – unjustly adorable – as you resumed your work. You smiled widely despite your unnerving circumstance; he would give you anything and everything. The knowledge of this, having been reminded by every little gesture, every word he spoke, made for the warmest feeling in your soul.

Content with your handiwork as you drew the last spiral, you had to swallow a chuckle when Steven’s brows furrowed in confusion, head bowing, eyes flickering over the unfamiliar pattern. A triskele instead of a simple two-headed spiral. A symbol speaking more words than your knight could ever imagine in his wildest dreams, you supposed.

“It’s different.”

Shrugging, you withdrew your hand, calling to your magic to finish the ritual.

“You always draw two spirals connected…” Steve continued, eyes growing large and curious.

“I do”, you agreed softly.

He observed you, intrigued. He had once said he might not understand your power, but he swore he would always try. He would not dare to question your rituals, but you could almost feel how fast his thoughts whirled in a frantic search for an answer. The ritual had remained the same, always, countless times, over and over… why would you steer from it today of all days? What was its significance? What had changed?

Oh Steven. Your sweet, sweet Steven… if he only knew.

“You always say it is about love. The unity of us. You and me,” he said slowly and you nodded, unable to contain your joy any longer, eyes surely glimmering.

“Yes. Our love, you and me. Unity of two.”

His eyes, roaming your face in silent question still, suddenly widened, flickering down and snapping back up as the realization dawned on him, leaving his lips slightly parted.

You simply shrugged, a chuckle shaking your chest, while guilt already began to gnaw at your conscience. You should have not told him, not yet. But how could you have kept it for yourself? How could you have denied yourself a little indulgence, even when knowing nothing could change just yet? You simply wished to see him learn your sweet secret, yours and his, even if for a moment, see he was equally elated.

Your knight did not disappoint you, not that you believed he ever could. His face was a perfect blend of shock and delight, radiating joy and hope and shame and sadness in equal amount as he stammered, shaky hand reaching out to carefully brush his fingers over your belly showing no signs of the treasure growing inside yet.

“You- are you—are we? Oh gods-“ And then, as you predicted, his expression shifted in an instant, determination taking deep root. “Then you must come with me. Allow me to take care of you, to-“

Satisfied and aching at once, you promptly shushed him with your still bloody finger to his lips. A single tear rolled down your cheek; a testimony to happiness, reassured anew of your lover’s goodness and dedication to you. To your family. The wonder, the glimmer of hope and the conviction in Steven’s expression would stay with you till you could grant him his wish.

“The time has not yet come, my love. I share your joy. And your worry,” you whispered through the tightness of your throat, even as a smile adorned your lips. Your finger drew a small cross over his mouth despite the pain it caused you. You had had your moment – and that had to be enough for now. “I am sorry, rytier moj. But you shall not remember this, not yet.”

Before he could as much as take a breath, you withdrew your hand, the symbols on his chest and lips disappearing with a soft glow. Disoriented, your knight blinked, steadying himself by the hand on your hip even as he remained seated.

With a shaky inhale you composed yourself before he could, leaning forward and planting a tender kiss on his lips, fingers raking through his hair. His hand cradled your jaw, adoring.

“Be careful,” you spoke against his lips, earning another small peck.

“Always.”

You retreated with a huff, shaking your head as you went to find an ointment you knew his friend would soon need.

“You speak as if I did not know you, Steven. A basilisk chimera’s teeth three inches from your throat, I heard? Careful indeed.”

His smile was sheepish as he rose to his full height, tying the top of his shirt before reaching for the garments you had so hastily rid him of earlier.

“I always try. The idea that should I fail, I shall never see you again… it can be quite a motivation,” he sweet-talked, succeeding just a bit in softening your exasperation.

Perhaps the vision of him dutifully putting on his armour, making his frame appear even larger – and protected – calmed you further.

“Well, Steven, try harder,” you snipped, pressing a tiny pot into his hand, earning a raised brow. “And take this to Peter, the wound on his leg was already turning foul. And this…”

You reached for a salve you had prepared for when a wave of nausea had taken you by surprise, dipped your finger in the dark substance and carefully patted it over Steven’s brow where his cut had been. You did not expect Steven to feel nauseous – after all he was not the one carrying a new life under his heart – but the colour was convenient. A cut healing so rapidly would have casted a dangerous suspicion on whoever he had interacted with – or worse, on Steven himself. You could not have that.

He observed you softly as you tended to him, adding a small tap where a bruise had begun to form earlier on his cheekbone. He did not utter a word until you were satisfied with your work. Once your hands fell to your sides, his own framed your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your nose and finally your mouth again, a bittersweet goodbye.

“Always so meticulous and careful… always so good. Taking care of me, of my friends…” he mused, breathing you in one last time, hovering, hesitating more than usual. Almost, almost as if your spell had not worked and he still knew. As if he still knew precisely what he was leaving behind this time. “Take care of the person most precious to me too? Until I come back again?”

There might be two of those for you now, you thought, the memory of his delight flashing in your mind, bringing a smile to your lips as you nuzzled into his touch and kissed his palm.

Looking up at his face, you echoed his own reassurance. “Always.”

With one last kiss and hearts as heavy as light, you declared your love to each other. You walked him out quietly, watching him disappear between the trees, his gaze turning to you several times, always finding you standing at the doorstep of his true home, a tender smile on your lips.

Once he was out of sight, you released a sigh, hand settling over your belly, a tear stinging in your eye despite the corners of your lips having been turn upwards.

Yes. The time was yet to come for the people to see again the blessings of magic. For now… the blessing of love already bloomed and it was enough.

Očaruj mě (a fic with the same pairing in the same universe)

S.R. masterlist - contains other knight!Steve fics, independent of this one

Complete masterlist

Yes, I’m mixing symbols, I know… do I care? Nope.

Terms of endearment/addressing used from Slovak language: bosorka moja = witch mine rytier môj = knight mine ľubim ťa = I love you

Thank you for reading!💕 I wrote it in between really difficult exams in the ocourse of two months and it needed a LOT of editing afterwards too, so... feedback is, as always, appreciated 🥰

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #knight steve rogers #knight steve rogers x reader #knight steve rogers x you #knight steve rogers imagine #medieval au #fantasy au #fairy tale au #lemons #pomiluj me #anika ann

243 notes · View notes