#let's leave that alone shall we
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terribleoldwhitemen · 2 years ago
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endeavour - raga
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frankieplsrelax · 1 year ago
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my bar closed down two months ago and ive been so so so sad and so so unemployed but i got a job!!!!! i had my first training shift today!!!! im a bartender again!!!!! new bar!!!!!!!! with GOOD DAYS!!!!! i work friday/saturday open-1 which are such good bar days!!! and its downtown good location!!!! i wasnt even busy today and i made $54 in tips on my first night!!!! i work again tomorrow i am so happy and so excited!!!! and the girls who come in after me are so hot i could die!!everyone say good job frankie we love you we’re so proud of you!!!
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the-trans-dragon · 2 years ago
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Glitch: theres sponges in the trees
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m6pr · 7 days ago
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god. i. i. oh god.
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Too Many Beds
main masterlist | supernatural masterlist 
summary: you want nothing more than an excuse to sleep next to dean again
pairing: (pre-s1/s1) dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language
word count: 2.1k 
warnings: none really, language, bed sharing, kissing, mutual pining, idiots in love, brief mention of the death of reader’s dad
timeline: starts slightly before season one, ends near the beginning of season one
author’s note: a spin on the classic 'just one bed, what ever shall we do?' trope lol
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You’d known Dean all your life, practically. You met him when you were six and he was eight; two lonely little kids stuck with absent (job-driven) fathers and baby brothers you felt responsible for. Over the course of the last eighteen-or-so years you ran into the Winchesters during hunts enough that you considered them family. 
When Sam left for college you were there for Dean and when you lost your dad in a hunting accident Dean was there for you. He actually stayed with you, not wanting you to hunt alone since your brother was off at college too.
So, for the last six months you’d been hunting with Dean (who hadn’t spoken to Sam for over a year).
“One room, two queens,” Dean said to the woman behind the counter, placing “his” credit card on the space between them before sliding it toward her.
“We’re all booked up I’m afraid,” she said.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, I was actually about to turn on the no vacancy sign.”
“This is the third motel we’ve been to,” you said, “every one of them has been full—you’ve gotta have something!”
“I mean, there’s technically one room left but the heater’s out and my boss said not to let anyone sleep there because of that.”
There was a silent pause; you and Dean shared a knowing look.
“We’ll pay in cash, your boss ‘ll never know,” you told the woman. She smiled and nodded as you paid her with cash. 
“Room 209, my boss gets here at ten tomorrow morning so please leave before then.” She handed you the key and you nodded in thanks.
You had underestimated just how cold the room could be, but when you unlocked and opened the door you understood why the owner didn’t want anyone staying here.
“Son of a bitch,” Dean mumbled, following you into the room and feeling the cold air. “We’re gonna freeze our asses off in here!” he quickly closed the door behind him, hoping the icy air hadn’t swept any snow into the room.
“It’s either this or we sleep in the Impala,” you shrugged, “and, no offense to your car, but it’s fuckin’ uncomfortable to sleep in.”
“And there’s only one bed,” Dean sighed.
“I’m gonna take a quick shower,” you told him, ignoring his complaints. 
**
“Are you shivering or crying?” Dean asked.
You rolled over so you could meet his stare; “Shivering! It’s fuckin’ cold in here!”
“You wanna…cuddle up, maybe?” he asked hesitantly.
“Excuse me?” you laughed a little.
“Look, I’m not thrilled about it either, but it’s cold in here and unless we both wanna catch fucking pneumonia we better be smart and share body heat.”
You sighed, weighing your options; “Fine. But we never, and I mean never speak of this again, you hear me?”
“Understood.” He nodded.
You rolled back over as he scooted closer to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you into his chest.
“This okay?” he asked quietly, his lips ghosting the back of your head.
“Yeah,” you mumbled back. “Thank you, Dean.”
**
You woke up to the sound of Dean snoring loudly. You were used to his snores, sure, but he’d never been this close. He was laying on his stomach and resting on your chest; his mouth open and his hair tickling your neck. Your first reaction was annoyance but then it quickly washed away as you realized you didn’t want to move a muscle, so Dean could continue sleeping. 
And the more you laid there, listening to his snores, the more you realized how comfortable you were…even in such a physically uncomfortable situation. 
As the time passed and the sun began to rise, you cursed the light that was slowly but surely peeking through the curtain and onto Dean’s face. 
“Morning,” he mumbled to you as he lifted his head up. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his right hand before wiping his mouth. “Sorry,” he chuckled, noticing the small spot on your gray sweater dampened with his drool.
“It’s okay,” you mumbled back. “I think it’s your sweater anyway.”
“I thought it looked familiar.”
He rolled off of you and out of bed. 
You watched as he padded across the dirty carpet and over to the small kitchen. He turned on the coffee maker and the loud, off putting grinding noise made his face scrunch before he quickly shut off the (definitely broken) machine.
“So much for coffee,” he grumbled. “You gonna sit there all morning or you wanna get outta here? We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”
“I’m getting up,” you replied. You would usually be annoyed at him for rushing you to wake up, but this time the annoyance was…different. Something about his bedhead, the way his lips were pouting over the lack of caffeine, and how he looked in his brown Henley and baggy sweats just made you wanna hold him again. All you wanted was to pull him back into bed with you and hold him in your arms forever.
**
You were beyond frustrated at this point. How many stupid fucking hotels had to have vacant rooms with two beds and a functional heating system!? 
It had been nearly six months since you and Dean shared a bed and you had been looking for an excuse to sleep next to him ever since. 
But the last couple weeks had been different—Sammy was back. Yes, you loved Sam like a brother, but you missed getting to be alone with Dean. You missed sitting shotgun in the Impala and watching him drive.
Sam definitely noticed the way you looked at Dean, but the younger Winchester didn’t say a word. Without being too obvious about it, he tried to do little things that would let you be close to his brother. He’d sit in a certain chair or part of the couch so that you and Dean had no choice but to sit together. Or he’d make some lame excuse so that he got his own room while you and Dean had to share. “I need to do some more research and I need the light, why don’t you two just sleep in the other room?” for example. 
**
“Two rooms, please,” Dean said, reaching into his coat pocket for his wallet.
“Unfortunately we’ve only got one room left,” the cashier replied. 
You almost couldn’t believe your ears, fucking finally!
“Oh, that’s too bad,” you faked your best frustrated look, of course Sam saw right through that.
“Well, I am not sharing with either or you,” he said with a teasing smile. 
“There’s actually a pullout couch in that room, as luck would have it,” the cashier informed the three of you. 
God fucking damn it, you thought to yourself.
**
It was barely after two when you felt the bed behind you dip, and you shook yourself awake. 
“The hell?” you asked, still half asleep.
“The pullout couch isn’t working,” Dean mumbled quietly. “You mind sharing with me?”
You smiled a little and scooted closer into his arms, indicating you were okay with him sleeping next to you.
“Of course I don’t mind sharing with you,” you whispered and his grip tightened.
**
“I’m gonna go get breakfast,” Sam announced. “I’m assuming you want your usual?”
Dean put his right pointer finger to his lips and furrowed his brows angrily. He gestured to you as you slept and Sam got the message. 
“Usual is good,” Dean whispered before Sam left.
Dean stayed laying perfectly still as you slept on his chest, soft snores escaping your lips and to Dean they were the sweetest sound. 
As you stirred awake slowly, he rubbed your back a little.
“Morning,” you mumbled, a small smile on your lips. “Where’s Sam?”
“He went to grab breakfast,” Dean told you. 
You furrowed your brows as you sat up, looked across the room, and realized something; “The pullout bed looks fine? I thought you said it wasn’t working?” You turned back to Dean, who had a sheepish grin growing on his lips.
“So…maybe I’ve just been looking for an excuse to sleep next to you again. Like we did back in that motel when the heat was out.”
“Really?” You attempted to hide the smile trying to find its way onto your face. 
“When we were checking in last night I noticed how your face lit up when they said there was only one room left,” Dean admitted. “And I saw that disappointed look you made when they said there was a pullout couch. So, am I wrong, or have you been wanting an excuse too?”
“I really liked sleeping next to you that night,” you said, avoiding eye contact. “And you’re right, I have been hoping for another ‘oh no just one bed, guess we’ll have to share’ situation but…”
“But what?” Dean asked when you trailed off. You looked down at him. 
“Dean, you and Sam have been like my brothers for as long as I can remember. I mean, Bobby practically raised all three of us and my actual brother as siblings! Your dad and my dad knew each other basically forever and I guess…I guess I figured our lives are too entangled for anything to ever actually happen between us. We’re family.”
“Chosen family, Y/n.” Dean smiled softly. “Doesn’t mean you have to be my chosen sister, you could be my chosen…you know…” 
You leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his full lips. 
“That,” Dean finished his previous statement. 
“Let’s just keep this between us for now, okay?” you suggested. “If Sam finds out, then your dad will find out, and he’ll immediately tell my brother, then before we know it Bobby—”
“I get the picture, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled before kissing you again. He put his hands on your cheeks as he sat up. He pulled you onto his lap, your legs now straddling his hips. His hands moved to your shoulders then trailed down to your lower back as yours went into his hair. You pulled away from him after a moment, huge smiles on both your faces.
You looked into his eyes, his truly beautiful eyes, and you bit your bottom lip ever so slightly. Your right hand rested on his left cheek, your thumb stroking his skin lovingly. 
“You’re awesome, Dean Winchester,” you whispered. 
“You’re fuckin’ incredible,” he replied before he kissed you again. “And gorgeous, too,” he added. “You know how fuckin’ annoying it’s been, sleeping without you every night since that one time?”
“I do know, Dean, I’ve been just as annoyed about it.”
Dean kissed you one more time before he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, tucking his head into your neck. You wrapped your arms around him too, pressing your lips to his temple.
You pulled out of the hug so you could once again look at his face. Resting your forehead on his, you smiled before you kissed him again. 
“Breakfast,” Sam called out as he opened the door, “is served!”
You and Dean froze for a split second before you hurried off of him.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Sam said, “did I interrupt you two?”
“What?” you scoffed. “Of course not!”
“Interrupt? There’s nothing to interrupt?” Dean added.
“Oh…wow you two are fast,” Sam mumbled, shaking his head as he made his way to the kitchen before putting the food down. “Well, pancakes, eggs, and bacon from the continental breakfast.” He gestured to the food now on the table. “Hope you’re hungry.”
As Sam sat down to eat, you looked at Dean anxiously. Say something you begged him with your eyes.
“Sammy,” Dean started as he got out of bed, “would you mind uh…not telling dad? About me and Y/n…kissing just now? When we find him, I mean.”
“Dad’s never really been invested in your love life, but he’s not an idiot,” Sam laughed. 
“So…you are gonna tell him?” Dean furrowed his brows in frustration.
“Dean, he knows you two are together, it’s not some big secret?” Sam replied, shoveling more food into his mouth. “Damn that’s good.”
“Okay, just hold on—what?” Dean asked. “What do you mean dad knows? There’s been nothing to know since like four minutes ago?”
“Wait,” Sam stopped eating and fully turned to face you and his brother, “are you trying to tell me this is the first time you two have kissed?” Sam furrowed his brows deeply as you and Dean both nodded. “So…never in high school?” You shook your heads again. “That prom we crashed?”
“Sam you were there the whole time? When would we have kissed?” you asked.
“Huh,” Sam let out a laugh. “I genuinely thought you two had been a thing since like… ‘98.”
“What!?” you and Dean exclaimed in unison.
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eufezco · 5 months ago
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THE MUSE
Benedict needs to practice female form. Naked female form. And who better to help him than his lifelong friend?
Benedict x fem!reader (smut with plot, friends to lovers) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!)
Benedict didn't know how to ask you.
You had been friends for a long time, your families were practically one. Always so united, your mamas took walks every afternoon, gossiping about the ton and your fathers had been friends since childhood. You and Benedict were bound to meet.
You and he grew up together. You were friends with his siblings, you had held sleepovers with his sisters and won cricket matches against his brothers. Lady Violet Bridgerton loved you like a daughter and your mother loved Benedict like a son.
But your friendship with him had always been special.
When you were twelve, you ran away together to camp on the riverbank, just because Benedict wanted to draw the moon reflecting in the water at night. The following year, despite the scolding you received for your river adventure, you and Benedict sneaked onto private land just to pluck a few petals from the summer sunflowers to get him the perfect shade of yellow.
You and Benedict were very close. Of course, there had always been rumors about what kind of relationship you two had and that Lady Whistledown had only added more fuel to the fire writing about you two in her pamphlets. You and him never cared about that, and neither your families but it was true that you two have had to face some uncomfortable conversations with them about it.
That's why Benedict didn't know how to ask you. You had a lot of trust in each other, you had always supported his artistic vocation but perhaps this was too much.
—Oh, thank God you've come. I am in need of a model —. It was the first thing Benedict said to you when you entered his studio. The maid closed the door behind you, leaving you alone with him. Thank goodness the Bridgertons' service was very discreet, if anyone found out that you and him were alone in a room it would cause quite a scandal.
—Good evening to you too, Benedict.
—My apologies. Good evening —. He leaned to kiss your cheek.— I need a model —. He let you know one more time.
—How have you been? Very stressed from what I can tell —. You tried to have a normal conversation with him before you paid attention to what he required.
—Indeed.
You sighed. —Well, what is it? I thought we were going for a walk.
He nodded. —We can go outside later. But I need to get this done by tomorrow and I feel like I'm losing my mind.
—And...?
—I need practice female form.
You slowly nodded. You were aware that Benedict had been recently attending this art academy, you were happy that he was finally able to pursue his passion and you couldn't deny that within the characteristic desperation of the artists, he looked very attractive. Benedict's hair was a mess, his white shirt was half-open, his sleeves were rolled up. He would never have allowed himself be seen in society like that and you were grateful because otherwise he would have all the girls after him.
—And you want me to...?
—Pose for me.
You weren't quite sure how to do it but it seemed easy and fun. All the times he had drawn you, he had done it when you were distracted, reading, having tea with his sisters... The pencil moved effortlessly across the paper when he saw you laughing with Daphne or playing with the cards that Colin had brought back from his trip to Spain. He was already too embarrassed to admit each time he drew you and Anthony teased him by saying that if he didn't propose to you, he would show you his drawings, and Benedict's heart skipped a beat because he knew that his older brother was not known for being a joker.
Benedict still didn't know how he was going to ask you, maybe it was better to just let it out.
—And what shall I do? Just stand here? Like this? —You laughed and made a dramatic pose like the ones you saw in the paintings in the gallery you visited together.
—I need you to ...
Benedict swallowed nervously. He looked down at your dress and then directly into your eyes. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to finish. You also looked at your dress to see if there was something wrong with it.
—Benedict I don't think I understand what you are trying to say—
—I need to practice naked female form.
Benedict immediately noticed your horrified face. He wanted to go back seconds ago when he hadn't even asked but if it wasn't you, who would it be? —I will not draw your face. No one will know it is you. It will be purely professional, I just need a few minutes.
You bit the inside of your cheeks and decided to trust him when he said that it would be for professional purposes only. The unfinished nude sketches that made your cheeks burn when you saw them as you entered his studio showed you that Benedict found no inspiration in the bodies of the academy models. After a nervous swallowing, you nodded and Benedict's face lit up. He hugged you but you didn't have time to hug him back because he quickly went to prepare the canvas.
—Is the door locked? —You asked him as you shed the little jacket that covered your shoulders along with your gloves. Benedict rushed off to lock it and before he returned to his position behind the canvas. You called his name and gulped, your hands failing in their attempts to unzip your own dress. —May I please get some help?
—Oh, yes, of course. My apologies.
Benedict stood behind you, his fingers brushing the skin on your back as he began to slowly unzip it until the dress slid down your body and fell at your feet. Benedict felt like he had to look away, as if in a few seconds you would not be completely exposed to his eyes. He offered you his hand to help you get up on a small pedestal that he had in his studio. Once you got rid of your underwear, you felt vulnerable but not as vulnerable as when Benedict ran his eyes over your body from his position and with the paintbrush already in his hand.
He let out all the air he had in his lungs, he couldn't take his eyes off you. Benedict could not deny that he had imagined it on many occasions, but reality far surpassed his imagination.
—What... What should I do, Benedict? —You hugged yourself.
—Put your arms down and stand like that. You look perfect, darling.
Your cheeks burned after that. You did as he said. His brow was slightly furrowed in concentration as his eyes went from the canvas to you and back to the canvas. Benedict asked you to turn around and he squeezed his eyes tightly after seeing your bare ass. Purely professional, this was purely professional, he had to remind himself.
Benedict grabbed a wooden chair and walked over to you. Your heart skipped a beat once he was so close to your naked body and he felt the exact same. He placed the chair next to you and invited you to sit on it. He nodded slowly when you did, focusing on the new position of your body. Benedict went back behind the canvas and made a few sketches.
He cleared his throat. —Would it be possible if you... Could you spread your legs?
Your cheeks grew hot and you squeezed your thighs together.
The knot you had in your stomach got tighter and you felt your chest rise and fall slowly thanks to your deep breathing. You straightened your back in the chair and you did as Benedict asked. You felt the air of the room caressing you in that warm and wet area and he held his breath, his chest puffing out as your legs slowly opened for him.
—You are beautiful, darling. Do not be ashamed —. Every new inch he discovered of your body made you look more perfect in his eyes. It was as nice to see you as it was to paint you.
Your cheeks grew even hotter but this time it wasn't just your cheeks, your whole body was in flames starting with the area between your legs that was so exposed to his eyes.
—Could we try another position?
You nodded, relieved, you were sure it was painfully obvious the way you had gotten wet and you just hoped he was busy enough to not notice.
He dropped the paintbrush and got up from the stool on which he was sitting. Benedict felt the knot in his stomach grow tighter with each step he took closer to your naked body. You moved in the chair out of nervousness. Benedict leaned slightly over you. —May I? —He asked before touching your leg. His voice made you shiver, he was so close, you felt his hand brush against the skin of your thigh. You nodded and looked up at him while he repositioned your leg. Benedict's eyes meet yours, so helpless, his lifelong friend, was that innocence in your eyes, or was that...?
Lust.
Your hand grabbed the back of Benedict's head and pressed his lips against yours. His eyes widened in surprise but immediately after, his hands went to cup your cheeks as he fell to his knees in front of you. You opened your legs so he could place himself between them and be closer to you. The shameless hands of your friend traveled down your neck until they reached your breasts. You moaned against his mouth once he gave them a gentle squeeze, the soft palm of his hand brushing against your nipples.
Benedict left a trail of soft kisses from your cheeks to your collarbones and your breasts. He took one in his mouth as his hand played with the other, his tongue moving in circles around your nipple and sucking on it at the same time. Your breathing quickened and your lips parted to let out soft moans when Benedict's teeth brushed your sensitive nipple.
He let go with a pop sound and watched you gasp for air. Benedict placed his hands on the inside of your thighs and caressed your skin there before he slowly pushed them to open even further. His hands prepared you for him, his eyes asked for your permission. You nodded and Benedict flashed you a smile, that was all he needed. He peppered your thighs with kisses, taking small bites and kissing your sore skin afterwards. Your breathing deepened as his mouth got closer to where you needed him the most. He was so close he could smell you and oh Lord, his dick got hard as a rock at that moment.
You took a sharp breath when he licked from your entrance to your clit and savored your juices in his mouth. The image was completely sinful, his blue eyes were locked on you while his lips sucked on your bundle of nerves, his hands forced your legs to stay open for him. Your head was thrown back, your mouth was open in a perfect "O" form, your fingers digging into his scalp. Once he noticed the desperation in the way your hips rolled against his mouth, two of his fingers entered you easily. You stifled a loud moan, throwing a hand over your mouth.
Benedict hummed, sending vibrations to your clit.
—Talk to me. How does this feel? —He required.
—So good. It feels... —You bit down your lower lip, his fingers sank deeper. —It feels like heaven.
He was satisfied with your answer.
Benedict fucked you with his fingers until you had to grab his wrist to get him to stop, it was too much. Your legs closed around his head but his lips were still attached to your clit and he didn't stop until he heard how your moans turned into whines and cries, not until he noticed how your back arched off the chair and your chest rose and fell uncontrolled thanks to your panting. Benedict didn't stop, not until he felt how your pussy was clenching so hard that almost pushed his fingers out of you and he heard you moan his name one last time as your grip on his hair tightened.
He gave you all the time you needed to catch your breath, kissing your legs and intertwining his fingers with yours while you came down from your high. Benedict's blue eyes were locked on you making every effort to later recall every single part of you.
—How are you feeling, darling? —Benedict stood on his feet and held your hands so that you would stand up as well. Before you could answer his question, you both realized how your legs were shaking and laughed. At the same time, you felt Benedict's grip on your hands grow stronger to keep you from falling.
Benedict leaned in and kissed your lips in the sweetest possible way. The tickling sensation in your body that you felt when you were naked in front of him had turned into a different kind of tickling, now focused on your stomach. It was so familiar, you had felt it so many times when you looked at him but now, with his lips on yours and his hands treating you with so much affection and care, it was different.
You could confirm that it was not only lust but also love.
You hummed against his lips. —Wait, did you finish your drawing?
Benedict shook his head. —But, please, do not worry about that. I will help you get dressed —. You frowned confused and he gave a quick kiss to your lips so, as he had told you, you would not worry. —I can finish later. There's no way I'm forgetting your body, my dear.
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finniestoncrane · 7 months ago
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Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3
Different Up Here
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly
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If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.
"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"
Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.
"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."
A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.
"Heh, that's a new one for out here."
Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.
"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"
"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."
"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."
You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.
That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.
Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.
"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"
Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.
"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."
You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.
"No, no no no no no. Just..."
The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.
"... fooling around... y'know?"
Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.
"Oh... oh darlin'."
He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.
"I don't think you're ready for that at all."
You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.
"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"
"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"
"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."
Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.
"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."
"Why? Sex is sex..."
You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.
"... Isn't it?"
"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."
The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.
"What exactly do you mean by that?"
Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.
"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."
His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.
"No, sir."
"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"
As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, sir."
You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.
You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.
And luckily, he seemed agreeable.
"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"
Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.
It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.
"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."
"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"
Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.
"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."
His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.
"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."
"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"
Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.
"Well, it's something like this."
He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.
Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.
Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.
"Well?"
"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."
"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"
He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.
"You like that? Like it rough?"
"I think... I think I like both."
"So, something like this?"
He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.
You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.
"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."
Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.
"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."
His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.
"Did they make you feel good?"
"No."
You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.
"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"
"A little..."
Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.
"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."
His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.
“And what about these pretty lips?”
Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.
“They touch these lips, huh?”
You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.
“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”
As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.
“Do it slowly though.”
Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.
“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”
You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.
“Turn around though. You face that way.”
The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.
“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”
A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.
The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.
It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.
“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”
His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.
“Don’t you dare, little lady.”
“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”
He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.
“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”
“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”
“I absolutely will not.”
Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.
Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.
“I am warning you, missy.”
“Cooper… I can’t stop…”
You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.
“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”
“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”
Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.
“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”
“Cooper…”
“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”
“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”
“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”
The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.
“Come on, darlin’, come on…”
Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.
As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.
“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”
You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.
“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”
As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.
“Alright then, get onto your knees.”
Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.
You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.
It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.
“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”
The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.
He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.
“Can I taste it… you?”
Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.
“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”
You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.
A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.
Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.
“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”
He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.
“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”
You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.
“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”
It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.
“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”
Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.
He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.
“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”
You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.
Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.
And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.
“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”
He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.
“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”
“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”
“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”
You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.
Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.
“Bigger than before?”
You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.
“Better?”
“Mhm…”
“Speak up, darlin’.”
With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.
“Yes… it’s better.”
“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”
Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.
“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”
“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”
Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.
“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”
You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.
“Ah… Cooper…”
“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”
There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.
“A little…”
Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.
His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.
“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”
He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.
“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”
You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.
“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”
With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.
“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”
It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.
And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.
You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.
“Did I say you could get up?”
Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.
“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”
Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.
“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”
Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.
When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.
“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”
“M-more?”
More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.
“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”
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litchifaerie · 5 months ago
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hii! i hope you’re doing well!!
can i get a jace fic where she’s his younger sister and she’s just really dependent on him, and like follows his around and tried to stay w him while he’s really protective of her especially from the greens
pairings: protective!jace x valeryon(strong)!reader
warnings: not quite angst unless the last line. but the tension is there, fluff i suppose, romantic tension, canon typical incest. if anything else let me know, MAJOR SPOILER FOR FIRE & BLOOD/FUTURE HOTD
word count: 1.8k <3
masterlist
a/n: I am sorry i have been tardy with my promise but here is your much awaited request!!
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You liked it here. Laying in bed, reading a book of poems while your mother combed through your hair. Rhaenyra always had a soft spot for her only daughter, caving in and allowing every reasonable whim you had. “Mother” you speak slowly, putting the book down and holding it close to your chest. Rhaenyra stops her gentle movement, looking down at you with fondness, “yes my child”?
“Can we stay here in king’s landing for longer?” you ask, “I do not wish to leave grandsire’s side yet. The maesters do not bring news of improvement any longer and I fear….” You trail off not wanting to word it out loud. Rhaenyra knew of the gravity of her father’s health but she feared the wedge between her children and her half siblings will only give rise to new fights and arguments every day.
“You know we can’t my dove”, she pets your head affectionately, “who will look after Dragonstone with us gone?”
“Please”, you request sitting up and turning your back to face her, “I do not want to risk not being here when he passes away and miss my chance at a last good bye.” Even Rhaenyra couldn’t argue with your words. Your request comes from a place of adoration for your grandfather, he was quite fond of his elder granddaughter, but Rhaenyra also contemplated what can go wrong if she isn’t here for her father’s death. No matter the legitimacy of her being named heir to the throne, she is well aware of the whispers at court, the scheming of the hand and the queen. Aegon Targaryen cannot be king if she is here to take control of the situation.
“It’s settled then” Rhaenyra agrees after a beat of silence. “We shall stay here for as long as you desire.” A smile of gratitude makes its way on your face at your mother’s words and you are quick to embrace her “Thank you mother”. Rhaenyra chuckles, rubbing soothing circles on your back “Now rest my dove, it has been a hectic day.” She leans in to kiss your forehead “sweet dreams”.
You make your way beneath the sheets, head resting comfortably on the pillow “Farewell mother”. With one last look at you Rhaenyra steps out of the room. The door closes softly behind her, letting the dim glow from the candles lull you into sleep.
Morning arrives gently, with sunshine streaming through the windows casting a soft glow in your room. The ladies assigned for your care had let themselves in, rousing you from your sleep and ushering you to the bath to get ready for the day.
The baths at King’s Landing were more majestic than back home. You take your time soaking in the warm water with jasmine oil and rose petals, sighing in pleasure. It didn’t take long for you to get dressed with the help of the ladies and having your breakfast alone, opting for some calm in the morning knowing your brothers and uncles will inevitably destroy any sense of peace in the coming hours.
“I’d like to take a stroll through the keep, alone. Much has changed since I’ve been away.” The guard assigned for your duty only nods at your command as you make your way out of the room. The seven-pointed star glares at your face at every turn you make, a stark contrast to the regal décor the keep had in your childhood.
“Sister! Wait!” comes a voice from your right. You stop turning around only to be faced with a panting Jacaerys. “Brother” you greet with a slight smile “You are up early today” you tease. “I was looking for you” says Jacaerys, ignoring your teasing. “I was wondering if you were alright after last night’s events”.
You slightly wince at the memory of Jace throwing a punch at Aemond and Aegon and Luce starting a brawl of their own. Your cousin Baela even tried jumping only for you to grab her by the waist as you yelled for them to stop.
“I’m alright” you dismiss his worries. “It was just a graze”. Aemond’s elbow had hit you in the cheek causing you to yelp in pain. Aemond’s actions did stop midway not expecting you to be so near and get hurt but it only spurred Jace even more as he landed even stronger punches than before at his uncle’s jaw.
Jace gently reaches a hand up to caress your face. “Its good it didn’t bruise” he thumbs at your cheek, “I’d not let it go if that brute ruined your pretty face”. And there it was again. Jace always had a penchant for using certain choice of words which reddened your face.
“Jace” you warn, “Do not fall prey to our uncle’s provoking. You know both of them only say words to rile us up.” Jace let’s go off your face sighing “I can’t help it if they accuse us of…” Accuse us of what? The Truth?
The somber tone in his voice lets you know of his mood dropping. It was only the start of the day and you will be damned if you let your older brother sulk so early. “I’d like to accompany you to your training if that’s alright with you?” Nothing makes him happier than being able to show off his skills to his younger sister and you are well aware of that. Jace is quick to look at you with shining eyes and agrees to your request.
You follow after him as he excitedly tells you of a new method he learnt from Daemon, smiling at his words and nodding when you think its appropriate to let him know you are attentive. Jace liked having your sole attention on him. It was just you and him in the beginning. His mother told him that the first time he saw you when he was a boy of two, you had looked at him as if he hung the moon and the stars in the night sky. Your crying would only stop if your older brother was there to shush you with his toys. You were the happiest baby when in his presence, trailing behind him like a little duckling, a trait which you still carry. Nothing soothes your nerves like being near Jace.
You watch as Jace spars with a squire. A sheen of sweat on his forehead making him look godly in the late morning sun. “I do not think its fit for a lady to be here niece” comes a chilling voice from right behind you, closer than you’d like that voice to be. “Uncle” you greet, your eyes not wavering from Jace at all, “I think I can go wherever I’d like. The Red Keep is my home as well after all.” Aemond smirks at your reply. Out of all the strong bastards you were his favourite to toy with. The boys were quick to throw punches but the ability to sometimes make you unable to come with a witty response brought him immense satisfaction.
“Hmm” he hums, coming to stand by your side, a little too close for comfort, “I hope my elbow didn’t cause you any harm princess. It would be unfortunate to see your brown eyes blacken from my unintentional hit.” Brown eyes. He emphasized it. He is trying to make you take the bait again. And his backhanded words of comfort and presence did unnerve you more than you’d like to admit.
“If you wish to see how real men train perhaps you should watch me instead of your no good of a brother. He moves like a boy who was gifted a sword a day ago” Aemond whispers in your ear. His breath hitting your skin makes your skin crawl and you shiver in disgust, moving back and putting a distance between yourself. “No thank you” you decline politely. “I prefer my brother over all”. Aemond only gives a sly grin at that, “Even in your bed?” he mocks.
What was stopping you from slapping this bastard from even suggesting such nonsense. You grit your teeth in frustration, almost hitting him yourself when a protective arm wraps around your waist bringing you back into a sturdy chest. “Who my sister brings into her bed is none of your concern dearest uncle” Jace says cooly. “And I suggest you refrain from using certain phrases that will bring the honor of my sister into question” he raises his brows at Aemond challenging him. “I’d hate to dislocate your jaw over some misunderstanding, we are family after all.”
One thing Aemond had learned from the beginning was Jace will never lose a chance to be your protective guard dog. He could hit two birds with one stone by simply choosing to pick on you instead. Why rile up one Strong bastard when you can rile up two? “I’d like to see you try” Aemond grins leaning in to challenge your brother.
“Jace” you whisper, “Don’t.” Aemond chuckles at your warning. “Aww will poor Prince Jace listen to his sister like an obedient mutt?” Jace clenches his jaw at his statement. “He isn’t worth it Jace” you interlock your fingers with Jacaerys’s trying to tug him away. Once you are able to move him from his spot, you lead Jace away and turn to Aemond to give him a disgusting sneer “You’re pathetic.”
Aemond's grin widens, his eye gleaming with amusement as he watches you walk away, Jace's hand still in yours. "Run along, little dove," he calls out mockingly, but you don't look back.
As you and Jace walk through the courtyard, the tension slowly eases from his shoulders. "You shouldn't let him get to you," you whisper, glancing up at him with a reassuring smile. "He only seeks to provoke."
Jace nods, but his grip on your waist tightens protectively. "I won't let him hurt you," he promises, his voice low and determined. "Not ever." You squeeze his hand, drawing strength from his presence. "I know, Jace. I know." You kiss his cheek gently hoping to calm him “No one can hurt me with you breathing down my neck” you giggle trying to lighten the mood.
He rests his chin on top of your head. “I won’t let any harm come to you ever. No one can hurt you.” His arms squeeze around your waist.
You always felt restless without Jace, and nothing brought you more comfort than being in his arms. You never have to worry about being safe with your brother around.
But years later when you crumble at the sight of the body of Jacaerys Velaryon with an arrow through his neck, no one is prepared for the wail of anguish that leaves your throat at not having your Jacaerys beside you anymore.
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wholoveseggs · 4 months ago
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Innocence
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
{Daemon Targaryen X Reader} It is your wedding night and your new husband has a reputation for being ruthless, violent and cruel. You know nothing about sex, but that doesn't stop him from making you his wife in every sense of the word.
3.9k words - Warnings: smut, angst, virgin!reader, Daemon teaching sex, oral sex, breeding kink, size kink, soft dom!daemon... & lots of wine
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♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡
{Daemon Targaryen Tag-List}
@elijahstwink @starshipcookie @absolutemarveltrash @odairtrqsh @darkened-writer
@cheneyq @fallout-girl219 @nina6708 @evasmlp
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You stood in front of the fire, your arms wrapped around your body as you stared into the flames, willing yourself to stop crying. The wedding had been perfect, but now you were left to do your wifely duty and consummate your marriage and the very thought made you shudder.
You knew nothing of men, of their desires and the marriage bed, and all you had heard about Daemon, your husband, was that he was rough and wild in all things, and this included the bedroom.
Your stomach rolled with nausea at the very thought. You had heard the horror stories of virgins, the blood and the pain, the tears. You were smaller in stature than most and your mother had warned you that the pain would be intense and unbearable.
When your lord father had arranged the marriage with the Prince you were both shocked and frightened. He was such an imposing figure at court, tall and broad, with strong arms and a sharp jawline. His eyes were violet and they held a darkness in them that made you feel as if he could read all your thoughts and secrets.
The wedding and the feast afterwards felt like a blur and all you could think about was getting away from everyone and the impending dread of the marriage bed. You had watched him across the room, laughing and joking with his brother, and then with the ladies who were vying for his attention. He had a certain swagger and cockiness about him that had you feeling even more on edge.
A quiet knock on the door of the bedchamber pulled you from your thoughts and you jumped, wiping your eyes and sniffing. You were sure you looked a sight and the thought only made you cry harder.
"Come in," you whispered, keeping your back to the door, and when the door creaked open you heard the many footsteps of your new handmaidens.
"Let's get you undressed my lady," one said softly, and she began to remove the pins from your hair, while the others worked on removing the ornate dress.
They were all new to you, a gift from your new husband to help you settle in, and you had only just met them this evening before the wedding. Your old handmaidens had been sent home and you missed them terribly, needing their advice now more than ever.
The new handmaids continued in silence, and the longer you were left alone in your head the more panicked you became. Once your dress had been removed and you were in just your shift, you took the goblet of wine one of the girls handed you, drinking down half the contents, hoping it would calm your nerves.
The girls continued their tasks, removing your jewelry, the remaining pins from your hair. Leaving you in just a thin satin shift that barely covered your body.
You stood awkwardly, fiddling with the fabric in your fingers, looking down at the ground and biting your lip.
"Shall we remove the shift, my lady?" One of the girls asked, and you felt your stomach drop, bile rising in your throat. You could feel their eyes on you, assessing the situation.
"No," you choked out, and the girl frowned at you. "I-I would prefer to keep it on."
The girls shared a knowing look and gathered your wedding gown, curtsying to you and bidding you goodnight. When the door closed, you let out a heavy sigh and walked back towards the fireplace, finishing off your wine, and staring once again into the flames.
It felt like hours had passed, and the silence of the room was deafening. The sound of your breathing seemed louder than ever, and you could hear your own heartbeat, the blood rushing through your ears.
You kept drinking the wine, hoping it would calm your nerves, and before long you had consumed two full goblets. Your body was beginning to feel warm and the edges of the room had begun to blur.
You were feeling light headed, and a little dizzy, and when the door finally opened and your husband entered, the room spun a little. You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, and you felt his warm hands wrap around your waist.
He hummed as his mouth pressed kisses to your neck, his beard scratching your sensitive skin, and you leaned into him, his body radiating heat.
"Why aren't you undressed?" he whispered against your neck, he reached up and took the goblet out of your hand, taking a long sip and then placing it back on the mantelpiece.
"I-" you faltered, your cheeks burning, and he turned you around to face him. His large hands were resting on your waist and he looked at you with curiosity.
He guided you over to the nearby chaise and pushed you down onto it, and when he sat down beside you he began pouring a fresh goblet of wine.
He handed you the glass and watched you take a long sip, and you could see a hint of a smirk on his lips. He knew you were nervous.
"Tell me why," he said quietly, taking a sip from his own glass and you shrugged.
"I don't wish to take the shift off," you admitted, and he chuckled, taking the goblet from your hands and placing it on the table beside him.
"I know you did not wish for this marriage, but it is the way of things," he said, his voice was surprisingly soft, "but if it's any comfort, I do not intend to mistreat you."
You nodded, perhaps it was the wine or the warmth of his body, but the tension in your shoulders was easing a little.
"May I ask you something?" you whispered, and he raised an eyebrow, his mouth quirking.
"I suppose," he said with a small smirk.
"What's it like?"
"What's what like?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"The marriage bed," you said quickly, your cheeks burning and you averted your eyes.
Daemon cleared his throat, a hint of a smile on his face. He knew you were untouched, but he had not expected this kind of innocence.
"The marriage bed can be enjoyable, especially if both people are willing and wanting," he explained, and you swallowed hard, nodding.
"And if they aren't?"
Daemon's gaze softened and he sighed, looking into the fire. He was no monster. He knew the reputation he had at court, and although a lot of it was well earned, he was not going to be cruel.
"Then it's not fun for either of us," he said softly, and your gaze flickered up to meet his. He looked almost sympathetic, his eyes not holding their usual mischief.
You bit your lip and shifted closer to him, your body seeking out the warmth he provided. He smiled and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you flush against his chest, his hand stroking up and down your arm.
"You are now under my protection, my little wife," he murmured against your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "And I shall look after you."
You sighed and snuggled further into him, feeling safer than you had all day. The wine was helping to dull the edge of fear, and his touch was warm and gentle.
The conversation turned to other things, you both loved music and riding, and Daemon had a wicked sense of humor that had you laughing and blushing. You felt comfortable for the first time since you had met him.
You didn't notice his wandering hands, the way they stroked your thighs, your hips. You didn't notice how his lips grazed your neck, leaving soft kisses and nips. You were too focused on his words, the rumble of his chest.
"My little wife," he breathed against your ear, his hands slipping under the hem of your shift, and you suddenly stood up, moving away from him and wrapping your arms around yourself.
Daemon sighed, standing up and walking towards you. He cupped your face in his large hands, stroking his thumb along your cheek.
He reached for the straps of your shift, and began pulling them down your arms. Your hands came up automatically and tried to push them back up, and Daemon tutted, taking hold of your wrists and placing your palms on his chest.
"Stop it," he commanded, and the tone of his voice had you immediately obeying him. His hands resumed their task, pulling the straps down, letting the silky fabric pool around your feet.
You looked up at him with watery eyes, your cheeks flushed, and your arms covering your breasts. He cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing over your plump lips.
"Do not hide from me," he whispered, and your eyes dropped to the floor, a few tears escaping and running down your cheeks.
Daemon gently tilted your chin upwards and wiped away your tears. "Undress me," he commanded, and you looked up at him nervously, but nodded, moving your hands to begin untying the laces of his tunic.
He watched you carefully, his hands stroking your sides and hips, his eyes burning a trail across your body. When the last lace was untied, you slid the fabric off his broad shoulders, taking in the sight of him, the expanse of pale skin.
You had never seen a naked man, and as your eyes trailed over his body, you couldn't help the blush that heated your cheeks.
He was beautiful, the muscles stretched across his chest and stomach, and his arms were strong and defined. There was a dusting of hair on his chest, and a large scar across his shoulder and neck that made you reach out and trace your fingertips over the marred flesh.
He watched your face, amused by the look of innocence, enjoying how you explored his body with just a gentle touch.
"Do I meet your approval?" he smirked and you dropped your hand, looking away and blushing.
His hands went to your waist, his thumbs stroking the underside of your breasts, and his eyes followed their movements. He watched your nipples pebble under his gaze, the blush spreading across your chest, and he groaned softly.
"I need you to tell me what you like and what you don't," he said quietly, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.
"I-I don't know," you replied, your hands coming up to clutch at his shoulders.
"Then we shall have to explore, hmm?" he grinned, and then his mouth was on yours, swallowing your gasp.
He was gentle, his lips pressing soft kisses against yours, he was smiling as you tried to mimic his movements.
You were unsure where to put your hands, so they remained clutching at his shoulders, and Daemon chuckled, breaking the kiss and looking down at you with amusement.
He gripped your waist and lifted you up easily, your legs wrapping around his hips automatically, and he carried you over to the bed.
He laid you down and covered your body with his, kissing you slowly and deeply. Your hands were now roaming across his back, exploring the expanse of muscle.
When his lips left yours, trailing kisses down your neck, you were breathing heavily, your body on fire, a strange pressure building between your legs.
His lips continued their journey south, kissing the swell of your breasts, and he cupped them in his large hands, pushing them together and pressing soft kisses against your flesh.
He watched you as he ran his tongue across your nipple, and the sound you made had him groaning, his mouth sucking the peak into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the bud.
"Daemon," you gasped, the sensations were too much, and his name on your lips had him smirking against your skin.
He released the nipple with a pop, blowing cold air over the wet peak, watching the goosebumps rise, and the nipple pucker.
"It seems you like this," he chuckled, and he began to move to the other breast, giving it the same treatment.
You were panting, the pressure between your legs increasing, you rubbed your thighs together, trying to alleviate the feeling.
Daemon's eyes flicked down, noticing the movement, and he grinned, his hands gripping your hips, stilling your movements.
His kisses continued their journey south, his tongue trailing a line between your breasts and down your stomach. When he was about to reach the apex of your thighs, you shut your legs and grabbing his hair, trying to pull him away.
"What are you doing?" you asked, panicked, and he looked up at you, raising an eyebrow.
You had a basic understanding on how a man and woman make a child, but this act was something you had never heard of.
"I'm going to kiss you here," he murmured, his lips trailing soft kisses along your lower stomach, and your head fell back against the pillow, your grip loosening on his hair.
"I...I don't understand," you whispered, and he chuckled, biting and sucking on the delicate skin.
"You'll see," he promised, and his hands moved under your thighs, pushing them up and spreading them open, and you blushed, embarrassed and ashamed at how exposed you were. No one had ever seen you like this before, and your whole body was on fire.
You gasped when his mouth made contact with the sensitive flesh between your legs, his tongue flicking out and tasting the wetness. Your hands shot to his hair again, but instead of pulling him away, you pushed his face closer, moaning when you felt him licking a stripe up your slit.
His eyes were dark and hooded, and he watched your every reaction, enjoying how sensitive you were, how innocent. You were squirming and panting in his arms, your back arching off the bed when his tongue circled the small nub, sending bolts of pleasure through your body.
He held you still, keeping your thighs open, as his mouth feasted on you. You were writhing and gasping his name, and he was moaning against your skin, loving the taste of you.
You felt something building, something deep in the pit of your stomach, it was frightening and exhilarating, and you didn't know what was happening.
Your legs kicked, your hips bucking and you were moaning, the pressure increasing, and you were clawing at his head, his biceps, anywhere you could reach.
His large hands spread you open, his tongue circling your opening, pushing in slightly, and it was enough to have the coil inside you snapping, and you let out a loud moan, the waves of pleasure washing over you.
Your thighs were shaking and Daemon released his grip, letting you close them as you caught your breath.
You had never felt anything like that before, and when you finally opened your eyes, you were met with his violet ones, sparkling with mirth and a hint of smugness.
"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" he smirked, and he was kissing you again, and you could taste yourself on his tongue, a heady mix of sweetness and salt.
You kissed him back eagerly, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, and he chuckled, nipping at your bottom lip.
His kisses were more urgent, and when his lips began to wander again, you tugged at his shoulders, trying to get him to stop.
"Why do you still fear me?" he asked, his forehead resting against yours, and you shrugged, unable to explain why.
"I... I don't know," you admitted, and he grinned, his hand going between your legs, his finger running a circle around the small bud.
You gasped and jerked your hips, you were more sensitive than before, and his touch was making you tremble.
He smiled at your reaction, continuing his slow, gentle circles, "This is the source of all your pleasure," he whispered, his mouth close to your ear. "As well as here..."
His fingers moved lower, tracing the entrance to your sex, and you whined as he slipped a finger inside you. Your hands clung to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, and he began to move his finger, slowly sliding it in and out.
"It may hurt a little," he admitted, watching your face carefully, and you swallowed hard, trying to adjust to the feeling. "But it will get better, and then the pain will fade."
You nodded, his words reassuring, and he pressed a kiss to your lips. He continued his gentle thrusts, watching your face closely, and when you were beginning to relax, he slid another finger inside.
"My sweet little wife," he purred against your ear, his mouth pressing kisses against your neck.
His thumb began rubbing slow circles on the nub, and you gasped, the feelings returning. You felt the coil beginning to tighten again, and your walls clenched around his fingers.
He smiled at how responsive you were becoming, how you were grinding against his hand, trying to seek out more. So shy and innocent, yet so desperate for him.
His hand withdrew and you whined, opening your eyes and glaring at him, but he just smirked, bringing his hand up to his mouth, and licking his fingers clean. You turned a deep shade of red, looking away, and he laughed.
He sat up, his fingers going to the laces of his breeches, and you watched, biting your lip. You had felt his hard length against you, but seeing it was a whole different experience.
Your eyes were wide and fearful, and Daemon couldn't deny that he liked how you looked at him. It was a mixture of awe, desire, and a little bit of terror. He knew how big he was, and the first time with him would not be easy.
"We'll take it slow," he promised, his fingers caressing your cheek, and you nodded, the trust in your eyes making his heart ache, he would try his best not to betray it.
He pushed his breeches down his legs, and kicked them off, settling his body between your spread legs, his large cock pressing against your wet sex.
You were trembling, and Daemon leaned down, pressing his lips against yours.
"Relax, byka ābrazȳrys {sweet wife}," he whispered against your lips, and you nodded, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, your nails digging into his arms.
Daemon gripped the base of his cock, his other hand hooking your leg around his hip, and then he was guiding himself inside you.
You felt a sharp, burning pain, and you cried out, clinging to him. He kissed your cheek and whispered sweet nothings in your ear, continuing his gentle thrusts.
He was barely halfway inside and you were gasping, the pain too much. You tried to push him away, but he shushed you, his hips moving in a slow and steady rhythm.
His mouth capturing yours in a slow and deep kiss, a hand moving between you to stroke your little nub. You let out a soft moan and he smiled against your lips, his fingers stroking faster.
"That's it," he breathed, and he pushed forward, fully sheathing himself inside you, and you moaned, the pain fading as his fingers continued their movements.
He was still, his lips leaving yours and trailing kisses across your cheeks and neck. Your skin was pink, flushed, and you were panting, your hands still clinging to his arms.
He waited until your walls stopped clenching around him, and when he felt you relax, he started moving.
His movements were slow, careful, and his fingers never stopped rubbing slow circles. The pain faded, and as you grew accustomed to the sensation of being stretched, a new feeling began to build.
"There, not so bad, is it?" he murmured against your skin, and you shook your head, his thrusts getting harder, faster.
Your hands moved up to his shoulders, and his mouth captured yours in a deep kiss, swallowing your moans. He was moving with purpose, pressing himself against the spot inside you that had you seeing stars.
He broke the kiss, his eyes boring into yours, and you blushed, unused to having someone look at you like that. His gaze was full of lust and desire, and you couldn't look away, even if you wanted to. You were moaning his name, begging for him to go faster, harder, and he grinned, happy that you were enjoying it.
"Pleasure, you see, is a tool," he said, his voice low and husky, his eyes flashing dangerously. "It can be used to break or bind, and I am going to bind you to me, my dōna byka ābrazȳrys {sweet little wife}."
His thrusts were punishing, and you were gasping, clinging to him for dear life. His mouth was hot and wet against your skin, leaving love bites wherever he could reach.
Your hands moved to his hair, tugging hard, and he groaned. You smiled at his response, tugging a little harder, and his hips jerked, and he chuckled at your aggression.
"You're a fast learner," he groaned, and you couldn't help but giggle, and he growled, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss.
"Oh, you'll pay for that," he muttered against your lips, and you were smiling, your giggles turning to moans.
He sat up a little, pinning you down with one hand splayed across your chest, his hips rolling slowly. His eyes were raking over your body, admiring how beautiful you were, flushed and sweaty.
You were watching him too, his muscles rippling as he moved, the way his chest heaved, his face flushed, and the way his cock glistened as it slid in and out of you.
You reached a hand down, trailing it down his abs, and he smiled at the gesture. You were getting bolder, and he enjoyed it, enjoying how eager you were becoming.
He slowed his pace, his thrusts becoming deeper, harder, and your eyes widened. He leaned down, pressing his body against yours, and captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.
You could feel something building again, that exquisite coiling sensation, and you were gasping, your walls fluttering around him. He was moaning, his breath hot against your skin, his thrusts becoming erratic.
You felt the coil snap, your body shaking and trembling, the pleasure washing over you, and your nails were digging into his back.
He groaned, burying his face in your neck, his hands clutching at your body. Your tight walls were squeezing him, and he couldn't hold back anymore, spilling his seed deep inside you.
You felt his warm release, and it felt strange, but not unpleasant, and you were both breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath.
He kissed you again, gently and sweetly, and you responded, sighing softly. When he pulled away, he was smiling, and he rolled off of you, lying on his back beside you.
You were blushing, suddenly feeling shy, and he laughed, reaching out and pulling you into his side and kissing the top of your head.
"Was that so bad?" he asked, and you giggled, hiding your face in his chest.
"No, not at all," you mumbled, and he grinned, placing a warm hand on your stomach.
"I wonder if we made a child tonight," he mused, his fingertips gently caressing the soft skin.
You placed your hand on his, the thought of creating a new life was both frightening and exciting, and you smiled up at him.
"I hope we have many," you murmured, and his eyes widened slightly, his smile genuine, and he squeezed you gently.
"We will have to try harder then," he smirked, and his hand trailed lower, making you squeal.
He pulled you on top of him, and you were both smiling and laughing, the world falling away as he kissed you again.
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2K notes · View notes
starlostseungmin · 6 months ago
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husband!minho
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✰ notes: third entry of my husband!skz series and as for who won the poll, it’s minho’s turn!! minor warning: sex is mentioned but nothing happened!! i hope you guys enjoy!! not proofread. DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS! thank you <33
seungmin , chan( lee know ) jeongin , han , changbin , felix , hyunjin.
Husband Minho who asked, “Will you be the mother of my three kids?” instead of “Will you marry me?” on one random afternoon when you were both playing with his cats at his parents’ house. It served as his proposal and gave you a jingle ball because he didn’t have a ring with him at that time. 
Husband Minho who used to be a tsundere and nonchalant person but later changed into a fully affectionate bunny the moment he fell for you. 
Husband Minho who got emotional during the wedding day but tried to hold his tears back since it was expected that his friends would tease him later. He gave up eventually and cried when you slow danced with him at the reception. 
Husband Minho who teased you a lot but in a loving way. He tends to be a menace sometimes but it wasn’t bad. Your big baby just loves to play with you. 
Husband Minho who pretends to be annoyed when you ask for a kiss but deep inside he wants to smother you with all the love you deserve. Eventually, he couldn’t keep it to himself so he cuddles you with lots and lots of kisses. 
Husband Minho who spoils you with his five Michelin-star cooking skills and serves you high-quality food. He is the happiest when you compliment him and finish everything on your plate. 
Husband Minho who loves to drag you along when he goes camping and offers to take care of everything while you rest. He’d only ask for minor tasks from you to help him. 
Husband Minho who sends you weird selfies and cat pictures when you’re not together and says he misses you with the kids (his cats). 
Husband Minho who listens to your worries and gives constructive criticisms but at the same time he comforts you with the things you need to feel better. 
Husband Minho who loves to encourage you to do the things you want as long as it would benefit him and it’s not illegal. “The heart knows what it wants,” He said. “But let’s not go to jail shall we?”
Husband Minho who lets you burst out in anger while he stood there listening to everything. He’s not the type to baby you every time and will be civil when it comes to arguments knowing who is in the right and wrong. 
Husband Minho who will never allow you to sleep unless everything is resolved. He’d be sorry if it was his fault and be the cutest baby bunny that you can’t resist to forgive. This comes along with cuddles and kisses or makeup sex (if you’re both into it). 
Husband Minho whose love languages are acts of service, quality time, and words of affirmation. 
Husband Minho whom you swoon to over and over because of how handsome and cute he is. Never a day you’d miss complimenting him by which he’ll be all red and mushy from being shy. 
Husband Minho who got the interest of touching your butt out of his love and affection. 
Husband Minho who lays on top of you when he sees you lying down on your shared bed the moment he gets home because he’s tired and your presence makes him feel relaxed and secure.  He tends to bury his face in the crook of your neck. 
Husband Minho who is loud and dramatic in the most precious way. 
Husband Minho who never forgets important dates and will throw everything away just to spend time with you. 
Husband Minho who acts like a mother especially when you get sick and is stubborn. 
Husband Minho who is good with kids, and had asked you a few times if you want to have one with him but at the same time he doesn’t want to put pressure on your shoulders. He reassures that he can wait and doesn’t even mind if he spends his lifetime with you alone. 
Husband Minho who feels appreciated and loved when you tell him about the things he means to you and how much you are head over heels for him. 
Husband Minho who gets excited when you give him cat necessities. You wonder that he loves his cats more than you sometimes but he’d say you were equally receiving his love and affection. 
Husband Minho who doesn’t always say he loves you but rather says that you are his getaway from everything. It’s you and him against the world, nothing could replace you as you are his happy place and favorite person. The one who comes second after his cats and knows his priorities but you get the privilege. 
Husband Minho who loves you to the moon and back. 
Husband Minho who treasures you the most and the one he’d put first before everything. 
Husband Minho whom you’ll love for a lifetime, promised to never hurt, never leave, and never break his heart. 
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✰ taglist: @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly , @sleepyleeji , @starseungs , @midsoulz , @oddracha , @armystay89
©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.
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lilacgaby · 2 months ago
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˗ˏˋjealousy, jealousyღ
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pairing: boyfriend!megumi x reader
summary: after overhearing a conversation, you get seriously annoyed with megumi. he makes it up to you in his own way.
tags: fem!reader, assumptions, kissing, pet names, one phrase from jjk270, cursing, she/her pronoun use, no proofread
wc: 1k
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after a hard day, you decided to get some milkshakes for you and your boyfriend. you'd looked all around for him, finally hearing his voice down a hallway. you saw him and called out to him.
“megum–”
“when shall we have the ceremony?” hana mused, clapping her hands. a moment of silence passed in the hallway, both you and megumi shared the same expression of disbelief. he turned and noticed your presence, reaching a hand out.
“[na–]”
you walked off before he could finish, leaving him with an embarrassed hana who had realized she'd jumped the gun.
but before she had the chance to apologize, he went after you. you were leaving, quickly. going to find your car and ditch this place, arms crossed and annoyed.
was it probably nothing? yes, but why would she even say that?? it pissed you off to no avail.
you sipped on your milkshake in annoyance, throwing it out in the nearest trash can to you. the taste was ruined and now sour like your mood.
the sound of megumi's' footsteps behind you made you rush to get the keys out of your purse quicker, unlocking the door with antsy hands. you slip in, only to realize you got in the passenger seat out of habit.
you cursed in silence as he slid into the driver’s seat besides you, rolling your eyes at the hand on your thigh. “whatever you heard, it's not what you think.”
“mhm.” you stared out the window, letting him take the keys out of your hands to start the ignition and the a.c, your car just got so hot. “baby, it wasn't like that.”
“sure it wasn't.”
he groaned in frustration, still holding your thigh as you felt his green eyes on you. “look at me.”
“why? need advice for your ceremony? i'd be great flower girl.” he palmed his face, annoyance evident in his features. “it wasn't like that and you know it.” you turned on the radio, not wanting to hear his excuses. but that honestly just pissed you off more. changing through the channels, it seemed everything just sought to make you mad.
“(jealous), just leave me alone, (jealous), just leav–”
“toss your dirty shoes in my–”
“yo no soy celoso, ¿pero quie–”
“i need to get her out the picture, she's really fuckin–”
you turned it off, the sound of the fan the only thing you heard. your eyes were closed but you could feel him looking at you. his hands moved to grab yours. he spoke gently. “are we gonna talk now?”
“maybe.”
“she got the wrong idea babe, i don't– i don't even think of a future without you, let alone talk about it with someone else when it doesn't involve us.”
“but why didn't you say anything?” you opened your eyes now, facing him as you pouted. “you shouldn't have even entertained the idea.”
he tried to stay serious, but he couldn't help the smile that spread out across his face. you just looked so cute while you were trying to be angry, like a mad bunny stomping it’s feet. “i didn't, i walked after you right after. i didn't even look at her, just at you. always you.” the smile of his face had to be hidden under his other hand, you were so annoyingly pretty.
“really?” your eyes were glossy as you looked over to him.
“really.” your faces inched closer, megumi leaning in first. your lips meet in a sweet kiss, the tension and jealousy fading as you melt into him. his arms wrapped around you, caging you into him.
your hands found themselves around his neck, deepening your kiss. the both of you could almost taste your desire for each other. well, he could taste the flavor of your milkshake, but that was besides the point. as his hand moved up to cup your face, tapping your jaw to wordlessly ask for permission, you tilted your head and let him in.
as if memorizing the cavern of your mouth, he explored it. you tasted so sweet, you felt so sweet against his hands too.
he finally pulled away. “mine.” he whispered in between kisses, “m’ all yours.” chaste kisses were peppered on your face, making you laugh and hit his chest.
you both were breathless at the end of it, faces dusted with pink. his pupils had hearts in them, holding your hand tightly with a soft smile over his face. “it really was nothing, i promise.”
“i know.. sorry.”
“id be mad too if someone said that to you, don't worry too much.” he kissed your forehead, before having a moment of realization.
the car felt hot, yes it was because you just had a romantic moment together, but it was also because you didn't have tinted windows. meaning,
“babe.”
“what?”
“i think.. everyone just saw us right now.”
your eyes widened. “you're.. holy shit you're right! drive megumi drive!”
you rushed him and simultaneously you covered your face. sorcerers, people, and in particular yuuji, nobara, hana, and gojo were jaw dropped outside the car. gojo had a hand over his heart.
“well, at least nobody will hit on either of us, right?
…i'll be quiet.”
“that's for the best.”
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danepopfrippery · 11 days ago
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Lets look back shall we:
1) when Guillermo leaves for Celeste, Nandor visits and even brings him a new jackoff pillow. He keeps his promise of treating him kinder
2) the finale s2 they cant find Guillermo after hes left again (to mama). Nandor has a breakdown in front of the staten island elite vampires about Guillermo leaving him. He also lies and says he killed him to keep him safe. Nandor at this point is the only one who knows hes killed the Baron and Carol
3) s3 feeling his life has no purpose, Nandor joins a cult. Guillermo saves him mirroring the Celeste thing. Only Nandor is not thankful.
4) when Nandor says hes leaving Guillermo ends up fighting him, and a clearly turned on Nandor invites him on a trip round the world where he’ll turn Guillermo the same place he was turned. Not Guillermo’s fault but he doesnt make it.
5) Nandor, thinking he was abandon and surely at some point knowing he wasnt, decides to make new friends. When theyre reunited Guillermo is furious and Nandor is caring and respectful of him. Nandor’s idea to keep Guillermo from leaving is to marry…some rando. Asking him to be his best man
6) when Marwa is made to dupe Nandor she practically makes out w Guillermo. Nandor spends the eve seeking him out
7) sooo Nandor has moved on…guess Guillermo can too? Oh no wait Nandor’s reaction to that is so fucked it made one of the worst eps. Eventually they both end up alone and Guillermo is very hurt by it.
8) Guillermo goes and pays Derek to turn him. He doesnt tell Nandor and spends time w Laszlo. Nandor’s solution is Laszlo is seducing Guillermo so he’ll go to space to impress him
9) when nandor is told the truth he loses his shit and goes and makes friend with Guillermo’s mama. Says kill me right here if u must. He helps Guillermo finish turning, which Guillermo regrets. Nandor fakes a whole ceremony to fix it
10) sometime between that and start of 6 Guillermo wants to move out and makes the shed. Nandor apparently constantly goes to his shed to rant and talk.
11) Nandor gets a job at canon to keep an eye on Guillermo. He didnt even hypnotize the hr guy! He likes being a janitor and he thinks hes making friends and protecting Guillermo
12) Guillermo fires him and Nandor loses his fucking mind, goes up state to make an army and be a great warrior. Declares Guillermo’s betrayal the worst pain hes had in 1000 years. Acts so dramatic he makes Ed Teach look level headed.
Nandor is right hes always supported Guillermo. And the fact Guillermo cant see how besotted this moron is with him is beyond me
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i-cant-sing · 7 months ago
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TIME TRAVELER AU PT 2
Original post/idea here. Part 1 is here. Part 3 is here.
Check out my MASTERLIST for more!
I fucked up.
You thought as you sat on the bed, holding your head in your hands.
I fucked up so baaaaaad.
Not only have you healed Baldwin of his leprosy, forever changing history of the LEPER KING, but also managed to somehow be his bride. To make matters EVEN worse, you cant just up and leave right now because you dont know the disastrous effects it'll have on the future now that Baldwin wont die of leprosy, which means that the kingdom of Jerusalem wont fall to Salauddin and his muslim army and after that its just a domino effect.
You tried to view your options here.
I stay here, marry Baldwin and fuck up the fabric of time and space because how can someone from the future marry someone from the past? Wouldnt I cease to exist?
I leave, return to my time where authorities arrest me for fucking around with time- that is, if I even exist in the future now that I've altered history. Who knows if my ancestors survived/were born after this?
No. Neither option is good. I need to stay here and fix this. But in a way that i dont draw too much attention to myself so that im so insignificant that nobody remembers, let alone writes about me in the history books.
You were drawn out of your thoughts with someone knocking on your door. "Come in." You said, straightening yourself.
A couple of servants walked in, all women. "Princess Y/n." They all courtesied. "We've been sent here by his majesty to prepare you for dinner with him."
Princess? Ah yes. Only a couple of hours ago, Baldwin had proposed to you, I guess the concept of asking wasnt a thing here as he just slipped on the big beautiful ring on your finger.
You narrowed your eyes at them. "First of all, Im not a princess. You will address me as Y/n only. And secondly, Im not going to join him for dinner, so there's no need to prepare me" The maids all shared a look of confusion before the head servant spoke.
"But we cant address you as anything else until you wed the king, after which you will be our queen, princess."
"Didnt I just tell you not to call me princess? Just call me Y/n!" The head maid shook her head. "Princess, we can not do that. If we do, then we would be punished. And we must prepare you for dinner with his majesty!" The maids moved ahead to start helping you but you raised a hand, halting them.
"I said, no." You said sternly.
"What... what will we tell the king, princess? He's expecting you-"
"Tell him i cant come because Im sic- no, Im not feeling well and Id like to be alone." You cant say "sick" in this era, because that means "death sentence" here and you dont want to be fretted over and bring attention to yourself as "the king's fiancee got SICK!". Besides, you do need to be away from Baldwin as much as possible and have some time to plot your moves.
-
You had pulled out your notebook and began writing out dates and historic events of this era to plan your escape. You're trying to find some sort of shortcut where Baldwin gets sick again and dies, leaving his kingdom in the hands of his sister and brother in law, who will bring its downfall-
Someone knocked on your door gently. "Princess?" You quickly hid your notebook. "Come in."
Baldwin walked inside and towards you, eyes worried as they scanned you up and down.
"I heard you're not feeling well?" He asked and before you had a chance to back away, he had cupped your cheeks in his hands tenderly. "What's wrong? Shall I fetch the royal physician?"
"No." You replied with your face smushed in his hands. "I'm fine." You pulled your face away his large hands.
Confusion spread through his blue orbs. "Then why did you not join me for dinner?" He asked, using a hand to push your hair over your ear, not taking the hint that you didn't want him touching you.
"I just-" what possible excuse could you come up with that would be both effective and not insulting enough to have your head chopped off. "you- you dont care about me."
Baldwin looked at you in bewilderment. "I dont... care about you? Princess, how can you say that?" He tried to cup your cheek again but you backed away before he could, putting on a face of hurt.
"How can I not? You dont care about what I want, or even ask me what I need?" You feingned pain in your voice, turning away from him for dramatic effect.
He grabbed your shoulders and turned you towards him, his pupils grew wide as if trying to search for what it is that you need. "My love, what do you want? Just say the word, and I'll give it to you."
You looked down, again for the theatrics, and Baldwin lifted your chin. "Go on."
"You never- never asked me to marry you."
"Huh? But I did today-"
"No, you stated it- demanded I marry you." You furrowed your brows and looked down again.
Baldwin smiled. Of course, how could he have not asked you? You were a girl after all, you want to be courted the traditional way. Its not your fault that you dont know that kings do not ask permission for things. They just get it, because who would refuse to marry a king?
He kissed your forehead, lifting your chin again to meet his eyes. "Im sorry, princess. I shouldve asked." He took your hands in his and had that charming smile again. "Will you marry me, Y/n?"
"No." You shook your head. "I... I cant marry you, your majesty." You said, adding tears into your eyes. His brows furrowed in concern.
"What? Why?" You tried pulling your hands away but he didnt let go, tightening his grip ever so slightly.
"I-" well, you could say that youre not catholic and the church would never let you two get married, but you also dont wanna be tortured for being a "heretic". Maybe religious differences could be the last plan. Taking your silence as hesitance, Baldwin spoke. "I can offer you everything and more. Jerusalem would be yours. What is it that I lack that anyone else could offer?"
"I am not a good match for you!" Ah yes, lets do the typical "its not you, its me." You bit your lip as you yanked your hands out of his and walked towards the window, your back to him (theatrics). "You and I are not equals- no we are nowhere close! Youre a king, your father was a king, your family is royalty. I come from nothing, as did my ancestors. There will never be stability in our marriage when we come from such different backgrounds!" You never thought that you would be putting yourself down and call yourself "inferior" to break up with a man.
Silence hung in the air, as you held your breath.
"Youre right." You heard him say behind you. "We are not equals, we never will be." For some reason, instead of being relieved, a chill ran down your spine. Baldwin wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. "I may be a king, but youre far superior to me. You're an angel, sent to me by God, and you saved me. I wouldnt be king anymore if you werent here, princess."
Warmth spread from your cheeks to the tip of your ears, both due to the close proximity and his words. Sensing your bashfulness, he chuckled, kissing your cheek as he turned you around to face him. You could hear your own heart beat at how close he was.
Baldwin tilted his head, half lidded eyes staring at you. "Youre everything and more that I could ask for, princess. Never put yourself down and compare yourself to me, hm?" He said, giving your arms a gentle squeeze before moving away, but not detaching himself completely as he took ahold of your hand and looked back at you.
"Now that this is settled, let us go eat. I've had the servants prepare a feast for us and then we can discuss wedding arrangements-" shit shit shit shit shit fuck it!
"I'm not catholic!" Baldwin halted at that. You've already said it, might as well dig yourself a deeper hole. You let the tears form in your eyes. "Im... Muslim. I didnt tell you because I didnt want you to think I was working for Salauddin and spying on you for him, you know I wasnt! I really did only want to know about you. Please believe me, I wasnt-"
"I believe you."
What? Just like that.
"You- you believe me?" You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you. Once again, Im sorry i didnt tell you I was a Muslim, but dont worry, I'll pack my things and leave tonight-"
"Why? We still have to get married."
You blinked slowly. "But... Im Muslim?"
Baldwin shrugged. "So? It doesnt change anything."
You looked at him in bafflement. "It does! It changes everything! We cant get married! Im a Muslim! The church wont allow interfaith marriages, and I dont intend on converting to catholicism either if thats what youre suggesting!"
"I am not suggesting that. You can be a muslim if you want to, but we're still getting married." Baldwin stated matter of factly.
"The church wont allow it-"
"The church will do as I say. I am the head of the church. Besides-" He smiled.
"I dont remember angels having to prove themselves to be a catholic. You saved my life, you cured my incurable disease. As far as the church is concerned, youre a miracle sent to me by God. Youre the Chosen One!"
Is he... is he hearing himself? Can you try to convince him?
"But... but Jerusalem deserves a Catholic Queen-" you tried weakly, but he cupped your cheek and smiled gently at you.
"I am Jerusalem, Y/n. And I deserve you." Was all he said before pecking your forehead.
He tugged you along with him. "Now, we have to eat."
You dont want to eat. You want to stay behind and think of another strategy because clearly you cant talk yourself out of this wedding.
"I'm- I'm not hungry." You said, making him frown.
"How is that possible? You havent had anything since morning. I dont want you getting sick before the wedding." Baldwin continued to pull you along.
Does he not listen?
"I dont want to eat- I- dont feel like it." You said a bit harshly this time, hoping he'd take the hint.
And he did, finally stopping. He sighed and let go of your hand. "Okay. I suppose if you really dont want to, we can skip dinner tonight." Fucking finally. "Its just... I seem to have developed a habit of enjoying meals with you. And now that my leprosy is cured and I have no more diet restrictions, I just- I had the kitchen prepare some of my favourite dishes that I was able to enjoy before my disease disabled me."
You stared at him. Is he- is he trying to guilt trip you? Baldwin once told you that due to leprosy he had ulcers in his mouth, and he couldnt eat different types of food, and was only able to have bland, soft goo.
You looked away from his big sad eyes. He's not getting to you. You need to go back to your room, make yourself scarce, be far away from him as often as possible.
"You can still go and eat dinner alone."
With one hand, he cupped your cheek. "Princess, you know I cant eat until you eat too. But its okay, if you dont want to eat, then I wont too. I guess I'll just have the servants finish the chicken roast and oh-! They even made strawberry cream cake for dessert. But- maybe another day."
You looked into his eyes, those blue orbs that were filled with sadness, resembling a kid who was just told "no candy!"
Sighing, you held his hand. "Maybe I can have a few bites."
His face lit up. Ah, he knew you'd come around. "Lets go!"
-
The next day, youre helped by the maids to get ready for the day. Apparently, Sibylla wanted to meet you and discuss some things, and you suspect she wants to talk about the wedding preprations.
The maids had prepared your bath and were very insistent on washing you themselves but you made them all leave the bath chambers. Finally, they compromised when you told them that they could dress you up if they wait outside.
Setting your old clothes on the bed, you entered the bathroom and settled into the warm water. The essential oils and flower petals soothed your mind and body, and you finally had some desperately needed silence to hear your own thoughts.
Last night at dinner, Baldwin was very- well, "happy" would be an understatement to how he felt near you. And all those forehead kisses and skin contact doesnt go unnoticed by you either. You suppose that since he had leprosy, he never really had or was allowed to touch anyone else. But now that hes cured, all thanks to your dumb ass, he craves the physical intimacy.
You closed your eyes as you sank deeper into the warm water. Gosh, did I really have to give him the water? Had I not done that, he would still be ridden with lepro-
Your eyes snapped open. Thats it. You just have to make sure he never drank your water in the first place! Yes! You can go back in time and sure, its always dangerous to go back in the same time period more than once, but you really dont have any other option now, do you?
After half an hour, you finally exited the bathroom and the maids practically ushered you to sit in the chair as they finally, FINALLY got to dress up the future queen of Jerusalem and after a whole hour, they're finally done. And... well you look good. Your hair has been done nicely, and a delicate golden headpiece, almost like a elegant hair band sits on top of your head. They added some color to your cheeks and lips with crushed berries. As for your clothes, they dressed you in a dark blue tunic with loose, flowing sleeves. The tunic itself was made of silk, probably brought in from the Byzantine empire and was only available to the upperclass of this time.
"I am not wearing those!" You said when they opened the jewellery boxes. There were diamonds and other precious stones adorning the earrings and necklaces.
"But princess, you must wear these. It is royal protocol for the king's bride to be, and the future queen to wear the royal jewels." The head maid said. She doesnt know that you dont plan on sticking around and if you leave wearing these jewels, who knows what havoc would that cause?
"No. I dont want to wear them."
The maids shared a look of concern. "What?" You asked them.
"Its just... his majesty picked these out for you himself. He would be mad at us if you were not wearing these." One of the younger servants spoke as she fumbled with her fingers. Through the mirror, you looked at everyone's worried expression. You doubt that someone as calm and collected as Baldwin would lose his marbles over his fiancee not wearing jewellery.
"I dont think the king would be mad at you if I dont wear some jewellery. He isnt one to get angry that easily, you know?" You said chuckling, but it died when you saw them share the same concerned looks again. This time, you turned away from the mirror to look at them directly. "What? Go on, no secrets."
Another maid mustered up the courage to mumble. "Well- it's just- the king- I mean- his majesty is calm but um-" she paused to look at the other maids for help but they all avoided eye contact. "Out with it." You said a bit sternly.
"His majesty... gets... emotional- yes, emotional! When it comes to matters concerning you."
"Emotional? What do you mean? Speak clearly, no word will get out of this room, I promise." You spoke all while glaring at the other maids to make them silently comply to not tattle on their friend.
The maid bit her lip. "His majesty... gets mad when he thinks that you're not being treated well." You gave her a look to continue. "A few weeks back, while you were strolling out in the garden, his majesty reprimanded some of his knights for not escorting you. He asked them why they weren't guarding you?"
A few weeks back? It may have made some sense for Baldwin to be protective of his bride to be, but you two weren't engaged until yesterday. And before that, his relationship with you was barely platonic, more like a king-servant thing.
"Tell her about the kitchen incident too." Another maid whispered.
"What kitchen incident?"
"Um, 2 months ago, when the kitchen had prepared a feast for his majesty, he almost fired the entire kitchen staff for serving olives with the entree." You gave them a quizzical look. "Well, his majesty had told them that you can't eat olives and had told them not to include it in the palace's food. But it was a feast to celebrate his victory and the staff thought it'd be best to add olives because the king likes them."
Your eyes widened at that. He almost fired the kitchen staff because you said you can't eat olives? I mean, it's not like you're deathly allergic, you just didn't like how tart they were and when Baldwin saw you picking them out on your plate, all you could manage to blurt out was that you can't eat them. Perhaps, he thought you had diet restrictions like him.
You huffed. That still didnt warrant such a reaction from him. "That isn't nice. Don't worry, I'll talk to him."
The maid looked at you in horror. "No! I mean, his majesty would not like that we- um..." she tried to come up with appropriate words that wouldn't be insulting. Her scrunched up face as she thought hard made you giggle.
"Fine, fine. I won't say anything to him. You have my word." You said, smiling at them assuringly.
The head maid then held out the pearl necklace to you. You sighed and nodded, and they all cheered as they started picking out the jewels for you.
Its okay. You told yourself. I can always drop them somewhere before time travelling.
-
As soon as you were dressed, one of Sibylla's lady-in-waiting came to fetch you. She hurried you, saying something along the lines of "you must see princess Sibylla right away!" And you couldn't stop her from pulling you along, so time travelling will have to wait.
"Princess Sibylla needs to see you right away, princess!" The maid said as she pulled you towards a room. Knocking on it, the door swung open and you were met with the sight of different gowns hanging on dummies with maids tending to them, and right in the center of the room was Sibylla, practically jumping on her heels.
"Y/n!" She yelled out as she ran towards you and engulfed you in a hug before her lady in waiting, the same one standing beside you, cleared her throat. It caught Sibylla's attention who gasped softly before backing away and immeadiately giving you a courtesy. "I mean, princess Y/n." You gave a nasty look to the lady in waiting before shaking your head at an embarrassed Sibylla. "You don't need to courtesy to me, princess Sibylla."
She immeadiately beamed. "Of course I do! You're not going to be just my sister in law, you're also going to be Queen of Jerusalem! Of course i bow to you."
Me, a queen? Yeah, we'll see about that.
"Still, I consider us friends before anything else." You offerer her a small smile. "You called for me?"
"Oh? Oh, yes!" She immeadiately grabbed your hand and pulled you further into the room. "I didn't know what colours and material you preferred, so I ordered them to bring everything with the best seamstresses in kingdom!" She pointed at the seamstresses, who bowed to you.
"But... I don't need clothes. I already have a wardrobe." Your statement made Sibylla laugh as did a few of her hand maidens.
"Ahh, you're so naive!" Sibylla giggled. "That wardrobe doesn't exist anymore. You're a princess, soon to be queen, you need a royal wardrobe!" She said as she dragged her hand over one of the gowns, feeling the material. "And! You still have to select your bridal gown!"
For the next 3 hours, Sibylla had the maids show you different gowns and materials, even helping by giving her input as to what would suit you.
"I still like my old clothes, they're quite comfortable." You sighed. Designing your new wardrobe was not something that needed your urgent attention at the moment. You need to return to your room and get the time machine from your old dress and leave this era.
Sibylla nods. "I understand what you're going through. I still remember how they burned away my entire wardrobe when I married Guy. But I suppose its poetic in a way. Since you're starting a new life, so why not start one by getting new clothes!"
Wait.
"They burnt all your old clothes?" Sibylla nods. "Mmhmm! In a way, you're burning away your past! And starting a new-" You didn't stick around as you immeadiately rushed out of the room and made your way towards your own.
You can't- your old clothes has your time machine. If they burn it, you can't ever leave!
You burst into your room, looking at the empty spot on your bed where you'd left your clothes before going in the bath.
"No." The maids, they must've put it in your closet. You searched it, searched your entire room but to no avail.
A maid walked into your room, watching you tear apart the bedroom. "P-princess? May I help-"
"Where are my clothes?!" You walked upto her, the poor maid's fright apparently on her face. "WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES!?"
"They- they're burning it-"
"WHERE?!"
"The gardens!"
You ran out of your room, and made your way towards the royal gardens as fast as you could, but with how huge this palace was, getting there took a while. Not to mention when you did get to the gardens, you didn't spot anyone there, but you did notice the smell of something burning, which lead you to the back of the gardens, that was away from everyone's sight.
There you found them, two maids burning your clothes in a small bonfire.
"PUT IT OUT!" You yelled as you rushed towards them, startling them.
"Princess-" they began bowing.
"Didn't you hear me? PUT THE FIRE OUT!" They scrambled about trying to find some water, but of course, they didn't have it.
"I'll get it from the fountain!" The two maids ran to get a bucket of water for you, but it would be too late by the time they came. So when you spotted your old dress burning, you pulled it out with bare hands, not caring about burning yourself.
The dress was mostly burnt to ashes, while only few bits remained that were still on fire. You managed to wrangle out your time machine out of it, the small metal box that was burning hot and left marks on your skin as you tried to hold it.
But even from here, you could see the damage was done. The area that displayed the year had now completely melted off, as did some of the buttons.
No. No. No. No. No. NO!
You couldn't help but cry as reality began to set in. You're stuck here.... you're stuck here forever.
Heart wrenching sobs wracked your body as you tried to hold the hot metal machine in your hands, your skin burning as you tried. Even when the servants came and poured the water on the fire, you still kept on crying, clutching your machine to your chest, partly to conceal it, partly from helplessness.
The maids looked at each in worry as they tried to console you, tried to pacify you, lest you had them executed. But it didn't matter, you were inconsolable. While one of the maids sat by your side, trying to soothe you, the other one ran in to get help.
Moments later, when you were able to hide the machine in your clothes again, someone came up and touched your shoulder from behind.
"Y/n?" You looked up through your tears. It was Baldwin. For some reason, seeing him only made you cry harder as you finally realised that you were stuck here with him. That you fucked up permanently.
"Oh princess. What's wrong? Don't cry- shhh, I'm here." He pulled your body towards him, letting you sob into his chest heartbreakingly. Exhaustion, frustration and shock must have overtook your body, as you fainted in his arms.
"Princess? Y/n?" He tried waking you up before collecting you in his arms and rushing back into the castle.
-
Hours later, you woke up to find yourself back in your room, lying in your bed. Your eyes looked down at your hands which were now wrapped in bandages. They only served as a reminder of what youd lost- your time machine.
Tears welled up in your eyes again. Am I- am I really stuck here? You sniffled.
A hand came up to caress your cheek, startling you.
It was Baldwin. "Princess? Do you want to tell me what happened?" His soft tone made you even more sad, and you raised your bandaged hands to wipe your tears, but he caught your wrists and lowered them back gently, using his own hands to wipe away the tears.
"No, you cant use your hands for sometime. The burns need to heal." His hand remained on your cheek, thumb caressing the area under your eye. "What happened, Y/n? Why were you so upset?"
You cant avoid the topic for long, and now that your way of escape is gone, you need to be careful of what you say and how you act around the king.
You let out a shaky breath. "They... they burned my clothes."
"Mmhm. Dont worry, I will have them bring in the fanciest clothes for you. Sibylla will make sure of it. Only the best for my princess." You shook your head. "Its not- its not that... They were my clothes... they burned away-"
"I know... but its a tradition. The maids burn away the bride-to-be's old clothes to signify that youre detaching yourself from the past and starting a new life." He explained, watching as you sniffled. Clearly, you were still upset over this.
"But the maids, they still should've informed you of this tradition before doing anything. I know how emotional of a transition this could be for girls." You nodded sadly, heart still sinking at the loss of your machine. "Dont worry though, they will be punished harshly for it. I have them in the dungeons tonight, and tomorrow-"
"What? Punished? No!" You cut him off. You dont want anyone to die because of you, especially when you dont know if anyone these people could potentially be an ancestor of yours.
"But they caused you harm. You burned yourself due to their-"
"No, no. Please, don't punish anyone- I- it was my fault for not knowing about royal traditions! Please, your Majesty, I beg you- don't do this- i- i-" You pleaded.
"Shhh, okay. Okay. I won't punish them for it." He patted your hair. "On one condition."
You looked at him in confusion.
"You call me Baldwin from now on." He grinned. "We are to be husband and wife soon, I don't want us to use royal titles with each other."
Your eyes widened. Is he- is he really giving up titles? You're not that blind to see his attempts at intimacy, but what you don't understand is why or even how you came to be on the receiving end of it.
What exactly is it about you that has made him want to marry you? Surely, Baldwin would've preferred to marry someone of this era, someone who is more compatible with him. Despite you trying to blend in the past months, you allowed Baldwin to see how you're not... as Conservative as most people of this time period are. One could say that he may be impressed by how intelligent you are than others, but it also brings up the factor of being "threatened" or "insulted" by the same intelligence.
Even though you consider beauty to be a "subjective" thing, the whole "beauty is in the eye of the beholder", you're not blind to how attractive others are. So why not them?
Did he only like you because you're intriguing? Does he still think you're a spy? Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?
Probably. Or maybe he really does believe all that mumbo jumbo about you being "an angel sent to save him."
"As you wish... Baldwin."
-
Last night, after Baldwin had left you to rest, you stayed up and tried to figure out if you can fix your time machine, and if not, then can you built another one?
Fucking hell. You closed your eyes. I made it once, I can build it again. But it's easier said than done.
Back in the present, you had the technology to build it. Now? You have to first make the technology and the tools from scratch before you could even get on making your time machine, all while keeping your science project discrete, which was easier before because you weren't going to be married to a fucking King!
Right now, you're sitting in Baldwin's private dining room (yes, there are more than one dining room. He's royalty, what did you expect) having breakfast- well, being fed breakfast.
"You really don't need to do this." You said as Baldwin fed you another spoonful. He smiled as he wiped your lips with a napkin. "I don't need to, I want to. Besides, I don't want my princess starving."
Involuntary, your face flushed. "I- the maids could've fed me. And im not a princess." He frowned slightly. "Why would you- open wide, princess- why would you want the maids to feed you when you have me?" He pushed the spoon to your face as you parted your lips, but then he pulled it away and brought his face close to yours. "Do I make you nervous?"
You backed away immediately. "I- no- I mean-"
He burst out laughing. "I'm- I'm sorry princess, but you are just too endearing!" Baldwin chuckled as he grabbed the spoon again and fed you.
Your cheeks reddened, this time more out anger than embarrassment. "I don't want to eat anymore." You muttered, turning your face away.
He smiled as he brought the spoon to your lips again. "Ah ah, but you still haven't had enough." However, you rejected again, looking away instead of replying.
He sighed, placing the spoon back on the plate. "I'm sorry, princess. I shouldn't have laughed at you."
"You shouldn't have." You mumbled, face still turned away from him.
His lips quirked up a bit. "You know, for someone who insists that she's not a princess-" He turned your face to him gently. "- you sure have all the blandishment of one."
"Blandishment?"
"Flattering actions of a princess." He nodded.
You frowned. "Are you calling me a spoiled princess? A brat?"
"I would never!" Baldwin gasped. "I enjoy you acting like royalty, demanding respect and attention. You deserve it and more. Besides-" He picked up some food on the spoon again and brought it to your lips. "Even if if you were a spoiled, bratty princess, I wouldn't mind. I would enjoy spoiling you, hm?" He nudged the spoon to your lips softly.
You parted your lips, making him smile. It really is hard to stay mad at him when he looks at you with his baby blue eyes. They just- they draw you in.
"Also, before I forget, I will be leaving the castle today to meet Salauddin. So you can either hand out with Sibylla, who still wants to help you design your wedding gown, or your can-"
Salauddin? "Why are you meeting Salauddin? Isn't he your enemy?"
He chuckled. "Only on the battlefield. He and I have developed a friendship, or a mutual respect over the years. As to why I'm going to meet him, is... well, you."
"Me?" He nodded. "Since you told me that you're a Muslim, I thought that we could perhaps have a discreet Islamic wedding- what is it called? Nikkah? So, I could go and learn more about it from Salauddin."
You opened your mouth to protest. You don't need to be part of history as the "king of Jerusalem's Muslim wife" or "the Muslim-Christian wedding that took place during the Crusades", even if it might make the world more progressive.
But then, you didn't protest. "Can I come?"
Baldwin raised a brow at you. "You want to meet Salauddin?" You shook you're head. "Well, no, not really. I mean, I don't mind meeting him, but I just want to get out of the castle for a bit. It's been months since i left this place, I just want to get some fresh air." This could be the perfect opportunity for you, because if memory serves you right, Muslims of this era had made significant advances in science. Maybe you can use their help to get some tools to make the time machine again.
Baldwin looked unsure. "I don't know if it would be safe for you-" you held his hand with your bandaged ones. "Please, Baldwin? Can't you take me with you? And wouldn't I be the most safe when I'm with you?" Ah yes, stroke the male ego.
Finally, he smiled.
"Alright. I supposed it would be fine, after all, you should see the kingdom you're going to be the queen of."
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Thoughts? (Also, I need to go shower rn, so I'll put the read more later. Doing so much effort for u guys, my spoiled greedy children)
Part 3 is here.
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igotanidea · 7 months ago
Text
Just right: Anthony Bridgerton x reader
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part 1 to too much
part 2 : not enough
part 3 : almost there
part 4: Stuck
A/N: I am NOT sorry for all the possible spellings and punctuation mistakes there. It's been almost 2 months since "Stuck" and I am FREAKING OUT posting this while crying because it's over. Enjoy and thank you <3
Warnings: end of series, 4082 words (!!)
***
He felt like a fool.
Reverting to his old ways instead of showing all the emotions coursing through his veins.
Turning around and walking away, leaving her alone, when all he wanted was to fall to her knees and beg for forgiveness.
But how would the viscount Bridgerton look, while doing so, observed by all the ton, including the two biggest gossipers in the person of lady Featherington and lady Danburry?
Seemed like whatever he would choose to do, he would end up being a dolt.
“Anthony!”
He didn’t even flinch hearing someone calling him, nor recognize the voice. Too stubborn to stop he only continued his marching pace, hoping for the love of god that whoever dared to try and approach him in this furibund mood would get discouraged.
Not very gentlemanly of him.
“Anthony!”
He quickened his pace.
“Anthony Bridgerton!”
“What?” he almost spat spinning around on his heel, leaving a dent in the ground, taking on his most stern expression. If his obvious ignorance of the caller was not a deterrent perhaps the frown and fiery eyes would.
Supposedly it might have worked on anyone else, but soon enough Anthony transformed from the head of a family and the viscount into a little child, upon noticing that it was his mother, exhorting him to the halt.
“Mother…” he muttered looking at the ground, having only confirmed his previous theory of his role in this entire disarray.
“Let us take a walk.” Violet smiled brightly taking her eldest’s arm and imposing a walking rather than soldierly pace. “What did you Anthony?” the gentle expression never left her face even when she was scoffing her unmanageable child.
“Why would you think it was me that--?” the viscount took the last resort to protect his own pride, but the tightening grip on his forearm betrayed the fact that Violet knew the entire backstory, behind the marital disagreement.
“I raised you. I daresay it gives me enough knowledge to not answer your question. “
“If you let me –"
“Don’t, Anthony. Y/N has been nothing less but charming since the beginning.. "
"That's the way to describe her--" the man muttered
"Strong-willed and persuasive, surely, you wouldn’t take anything but, but charming nonetheless. So do tell me so we could remedy the damage before it arises further.”
“Shall you mistake me for Daphne and ask about my feelings—”
“Anthony Bridgerton!”
“I am a man, mother. A head of the family.”
“Clearly said head has been missing guidance in the right direction.”
“Mother!”
“Do not raise your voice on me son.”
“Apologies…”
“Good.” Violet beamed serenely “Do you think me so little knowledgeable to ask your emotions? I do not. I’m merely asking for facts, which you clearly have such a strong inclination to.”
Anthony mumbled something once more.
“do you wish you lose your wife, viscount?”
“What?” such possibility never crossed his mind. Y/N’s anger, her hurt, pain and merciless avoidance – yes. Abandonment and lack of her presence nearby? No. She would never… She could never. Lord above, who was she thinking she was? A woman married into a noble family wanting to cause a scandal by resenting her husband?
And once again, while his heart should have been shattered and humble enough to clarify the turmoil, the sudden blood rush turned into clenched fists and ire. All because he could not bare the thought of losing her for good, however hiding behind all the negativity was easier. It was something he was used to for years.
Nevertheless it was impossible to deny the facts further. It was her influence that caused the improbable openness in his soul was the exact same reason of his spirit bleeding.
And he needed her back.
Each minute without her was a minute lost. A minute less in the so very limited time they were given as a miracle on earth.
“What do I do?” he raised gaze at his mother, now truly looking like a lost man. Man in love, who was probably not the most romantic and gentle one with words, but still deeply infatuated with the woman who gave her whole life to him.
“Do not fret my dear. We shall alleviate the situation immediately.”
***
Y/N’s feelings were beyond anything possible to describe with words.
There she was, with her feet rooted to the ground, wishing for – and willing to accept – apologies but met with the harsh reality of the stone wall of Anthony’s behavior.
Accompanied by Eloise, smirking like the know-it-all she was, and Benedict with the compassion written all over his face.
Presumably, shall they not be there, the young lady viscountess Bridgerton would abandon all the pretenses of a woman of her position and begun blubbering in the middle of the promenade. However, the most mischievous of Bridgerton siblings acted with wit and sense, involving their dear sister-in-law in a challenging conversation, capably hauling her away from prying eyes and gossipmongers, preventing any possible rumors about incongruousness.
***
For unmistakable reasons she was not in the mood to see their ludicrous older brother and with the sudden disappearance of Violet, Benedict and Eloise took the privilege to invite Y/N back to the Bridgerton’s family house and extend the invitation for indefinite period of time. After all, Anthony might have been the head of the family as he proudly announced to anyone who was willing to disobey his wished and/or not listen, but Benedict was the oldest bachelor of the house and was more than willing to make a few decisions of his own to finally be seen as something more than merely second son and waiting for his time. 
***
Violet returned home few hours later and accepted the presence of her daughter-in-law with a mysterious smile and not a single word of objection. As amazing and uplifting as such approach might have been, it was also highly surprising. Viscountess Bridgerton was well known for her mitigating skills and tendency to scotch conflicts almost immediately, especially in her own family.
And it raised a lot of questions and secrets that Y/N and Eloise tried to uncover spending the night in the former’s bedchambers, talking for hours, creating conspiracy theories and preparing for whatever may have been coming.
Cause the fact that Violet was going to help her oldest son in winning back his wife’s attention was more than conspicuous.
Only that Y/N, who was forgiving and accepting at the begging was slowly turning cold at the fact that her husband could not simply apologize but rather resorted to some intricate ways of regaining her favor.
After a year of marriage, should he not know her enough for independent ideas and not seek his mother's avail?
***
First thing happening in the very early morning, was Y/N’s most trusted servant humbly asking for her lady’s time, which was bizarre and – as any other family may have deemed – inadequate and even shaming.
Moreover, any other house would quickly discard the commoner showing at the mighty's doorstep but Bridgertons were prone to discarding rules in private and with those who earned their trust. Be it servants or nobles. And Y/N was no exception to the rule, welcoming her maid with a smile upon seeing the person from her own household.
“My lady.” The girl bowed so low, she almost touched the floor with her nose.
“My dear Laura, please stand up, there is really no need for that-“ Y/N grabbed her hands and forced the girl up. “I assure you that-“
“But Lady Violet and Miss Bridgerton –“
“I assure you that they do not expect you to kiss the ground they walk on.” Y/n almost laughed at Laura’s discombobulation. Poor one was doing everything in her power to not make her lady embarrassed and act like a good and obedient servant, almost expecting Violet or Eloise to be cruel and judgmental.
“Dear Y/N, did you give your helpers the idea that we are some sort of tyrants?” Violet send her daughter-in-law a honest smile, which immediately got Laura’s reaction in the form of blushing.
“Lady Bridgerton I apologies if my appearance is the dishonor on-”
She didn’t even finish the sentence, met with Y/N, Violet’s and Eloise’s laugh and a polite look from more balanced Francesca sitting on the chaise longue.
“Do not fret, my girl, we are more than happy to welcome you in our household.”
“Tha-thank you my lady…”
‘Now I assume you came to talk to your lady, so we shall give you some privacy. Come girls, make haste for the matter to cover is of utmost delicacy.”
“And how shall you know it mamma?” Hyacinth almost twitched her ears, not really understanding much of why Y/N was with them rather than with Antony, but curious as a young girl could be.
“Precisely mamma, how shall you know?” Eloise, immediately picked up her sister’s question, only not so susceptible to extenuations.
“Eloise Bridgerton, I shall expect you to practice the bowing before your incoming debut in front of the queen. Daphne made quite an impression and –“
“Daphne was deemed diamond of the season and such title is below my ambition.”
“Regardless, you do not want to trip or slip do you?”
Eloise (and everyone else) obviously remembered what happened to Featherington’s sisters and the embarrassment so with a heavy, exaggerated sigh and one quick, sharp, bright look at Y/N Eloise left the room, followed by her mother and sisters.
And once the lady and her trusted eyes and ears of the house were alone, who could stop the two of turning a lot more unmindful of societal norms?
“My lady, the lord has been quite annoyed since the quarrel you lordships have had. He even refused to eat his favorite meal.” Laura confessed with blushing cheeks
“Are you to tell me that Prescott prepared the roasted pork for Anthony after he was so unjust towards the lady of the house? I shall have a word about a loyalty with him upon my return.” Y/N satirized wholeheartedly.
“When shall you return my lady? Seeing as that viscount is not the one to have a change of heart and admit his wrongdoing easily?”
“He will Laura. One way or another I am fairly convinced my husband may take a long way to do so and take the aid of his mother whilst deciding. It’s just I am not fully convinced if the apology made with cheating are worth accepting.”
“Oh! You took the lower route here my lady forgive the audacity.”
“Just the route of a woman who expect honesty from her man.”
“Fair enough I suppose. But shall you be agitated my lady I take it you do not wish to accept the viscount bestowment?”
“Bestowment?” Y/N frowned a little in confusion “and what shall that be?”
“I do not know, my lady. I am merely a messenger—”
“I believed you to be on my side Laura.”
“And I am, my lady! But one do not object the command of the lord, that is clearly ready to vent his anger on the first soul that happen to be unfortunate enough to be around.”
“My god, you are a prattler!” Y/N laughed “where is that gift in question? Cause since it is mine either way we might as well get a little curious, shall we? Would be such a shame to put it to waste.”
Laura stood up from her chair and started heading to the corridor, but Hyacynth was first to barge into the room carrying some parcel that was almost bigger than her.
“Y/N! Is this that gift from Anthony!?” clearly she was eavesdropping  “Can we take a look, please? It’s so big I wonder what it is? Come on, open it up! Open it up!”
“Curiosity killed the cat.” Eloise muttered but there was no denying she was equally curious as her sister.
Y/N only rolled  her eyes, inviting all the girls over and opening the box. Fishing out the most beautiful and definitely expensive new dress. The color was perfectly matching Y/N’s complexion and the material delicate yet durable – Anthony knew his wife and her adventurous tendencies.
“It’s so beautiful and elegant” Francesca whispered touching the dress with delight.
“So what, he think he can just buy her the garment and she will forgive him?” Eloise scoffed “Men are so simple minded and belittling of women!”
“Try it on, Y/N!” Hyacinth encouraged, almost jumping from excitement
“Do not try it on! This would be relenting!” Eloise objected.
“He made a gesture!”
“It’s not a gesture! It’s an attempt of buying her forgiveness!”
“Y/N!”
“Y/N?!”
“Quiet!” Y/N finally managed to break through the noise of two sisters. ““No offence girls, but this is my marriage and my decision. One I have to make by myself. So thank you “ she smiled brightly but with a hint of annoyance “for your positions on things, but I am perfectly capable of weighting the significance of the gift, on my conviction to forgive or not forgive him.”
“Uhm. My lady” Laura cleared her throat “I’d like to elaborate that the viscount also made an invitation to one special place….”
“Do not go Y/N!”
“Stop interfering Eloise! Y/N you have to go!”
“For heaven’s sake, Violet is truly a saint for surviving you two!” “Uhm. My lady” Laura cleared her throat “I’d like to elaborate that the viscount also made an invitation to one special place….”
“Do not go Y/N!”
“Stop interfering Eloise! Y/N you have to go!”
“For heaven’s sake, Violet is truly a saint for surviving you two!”
***
Anthony was waiting for her in the garden outside some estate she had no idea existed. After all, Y/N has spent her entire life in London, rarely being invited to the cottage. And in this case it could have been used a leverage, not that he was aiming for measuring forces and cold calculation.
No.
He was walking back and forth, almost trampling a path in the ground in a place where it should never be. Nervous enough to anxiously fiddle with his fingers like a lady before her debut entering the society. Hoping she would come. Wishing for any entity in heaven might want to listen that she would take this dress he send her as an expression of humility rather than boosting like a rooster. Praying that Eloise wasn’t there with her sharp tongue and unrestrained thoughts to discourage his beloved from accepting both the gift and the invitation.
The minutes turned to hours and even his father’s pocket watch refused to work with Anthony in this important moment. Having no regard to the poor flowers any other plants standing no chances against his heavy riding boots, the time seemed to stand still.
For whatever it was worth it, Anthony Bridgerton swore to himself that he would rather turn into a sack of boned waiting in this desolate place than walk away while there was still a glimmer of hope she might appear. He was done and fatigued with missed opportunities, poorly chosen and ill-spoken words.
It was never his intention to said all those atrocious words to her.
Too much.
Dear Lord.
Now that he was thinking about it, his heart was capering in a way that filled him with self-hatred. After all the pain he might have caused her during that little hurtful exchange while she did nothing more than be there for him. Even if he not exactly wished for it. Even if he himself didn’t know that her presence in his life was the best thing that happened since his father’s death. If not since forever.
Anthony wasn’t the one to believe in signs or any spiritual influence on earth, but the more he was dwelling on his own misery, the more deliberative of their first meeting he was becoming.
It was late lord Bridgerton’s death anniversary and as any other year – he separated himself from the rest of the family. To show how adamant his heart and mind was and to underline that this was nothing more than just another day in a line of any other similar ones. But the truth was, he wanted to visit his father’s grave alone without any possible disturbances or havoc that his younger siblings could have caused. None of them really knew Edmund Bridgerton the way Anothony did. The first born son, the heir to the title, deprived of his father’s guidance and presence and forced to take responsibility for the family in way too young age.
He needed to be by himself, cause god forbid anyone seeing him showing any signs of humanity and indulging in grief.
And his family knew and accepted it.
She didn’t.
Just a stranger, strolling by herself in the area, looking like a commoner, having no regards to the sanctity of the moment nor the place she found herself in.
And worse for her – spotting Anthony in the never-seen moment of vulnerability written all over his face.
“Lord Bridgerton” she bowed in a way that showed that the savage, Anthony took her for, actually had manners. And that he knew him, but this was not so unexpected.
He only grunted in response to annoyed by an unfortunate set of circumstances that worked against her. The viscount himself was not going to bow to a girl that was clearly a servant, with messy hair and in a dress that was far from anything a woman, even of lower position should be seen in.
“Don’t you have anywhere else to be, girl?” he muttered under his nose, throwing daggers with his eyes.
“I’m sorry my lord but-“
“You should be sorry. I am convinced your lady nor your lord will be pleased with the fact that their service wanders alone in an area that does not belong to them!”
“Service?” Y/N smirked looking at him with amusement and twinkling eyes. And Anthony with his youthful energy and virility could not miss the fact that she was actually pretty.
“Yes, service.” He hissed at her “now get out of here girl, before you get yourself in far more trouble from me and end up on the street!”
“I shall-“ she obviously was not going to let anyone maltreat her like that, but her acuity wore up that very moment. She noticed the weariness in viscount’s eyes, noticed the monument nearby, and realized what day of the month it was.
“Forgive me, my lord.” She bowed in respect “I shall be on my way. And I shall not mention this meeting to anyone, hopefully wishing for you to forget my impertinence.”
She was gone as fast as she appeared, and Anthony thought to never see her again.
Until the next rout Daphne was attending, where he actually did.
Immediately realizing the scope of his previous mistake, upon learning that the service girl was in fact Miss Y/L/N, the youngest daughter of Lord Y/L/N. And met with another look of those glistening eyes and amused face expression. Forced to accompany her for the evening, since apparently Lady Bridgerton and Lady Y/L/N has made some arrangements for the future.
He was thinking it was all just a coincidence back then, but now he came to conclusion that it must have been his father who send this girl into his life. Knowing better than him that she would turn his ways around, challenge him, test him patience mercilessly and yet – that she would be the one to love him unconditionally and whom he would love with all his broken and unperfect self.
And the burden of possibility of ruining it all for them was even more overwhelming.
He clasped his hands behind his back, walking shorter and shorter distances, turning back more and more often, stuck in his belief that he would stay here as long as she didn't show up, even if -
“Anthony.”
Viscount spun around so abruptly it almost caused him falling to the ground.
She came.
She truly came.
It was like meeting her all over again, back in time, back next to his father’s grave.
Only she wasn’t looking like a servant girl now.
She was wearing the dress he sent her, looking not only like a viscountess, but like a queen herself. His queen. His wife. His love. His everything.
Her skin was radiant due to the color of the material (just like Violet predicted), cheeks flushed, hair done in perfect curls surrounding her face, bright like a sun.
“Y/N….”
“It was so unwise on your part viscount to call upon me and invite me into a wild place a woman like me should never step foot on.” She said sternly, but the everlasting and never changing glistening of her eyes betrayed her true intention “and perilous, may I say? Far from the city? Lady travelling alone? So many hazards awaiting me on the way.”
“Benedict and Colin were following your post chaise.”
“Oh I knew I heard someone laughing on the way. But my coachman brushed my concerns off!”
“Did you really believed I would send my greatest treasure into the wild without proper security?” Anthony took a few steps forwards, reaching for her hands and placing gentle kiss on her knuckles.
“Your brothers?” Y/N let him show the courtesy, but raised eyes in skepticism of the words.
“Believe me my lady, you should never underestimate the man of the Bridgerton house.”
“In what aspect my lord?”
“In every aspect, dear.” He looked deep into her eyes.
“Why did you ask me to meet you here?” Y/N quickly averted her eyes, because Anthony’s gaze were so full of passion, love and genuine remorse and apology she found herself falling into his charms. And this couldn’t have been so easy for him. “You sister discounselled me on coming here.”
“And yet, you came my lady.” Anthony reached for her chin and slowly, gently and with tenderness turned her face towards him so that their eyes had to meet again.
“Anthony I –“
“My love, I am sorry.”
“this is not—”
“Let me speak” he hushed her, not breaking eye contact. “I asked you here, because this is the very place where my father asked for my mother’s hand. Where he pledged her his undying love, support and loyalty. And you, out of all people in the world, learned how much I cherish my father’s memory and his legacy.
“Anthony-“
“Therefore, here I am. Standing in front of you, expressing my deepest condolences-“
“Oh, dear lord, Tony!” she cried out in frustration “stop using the words you would say to me if Lady Whistledown were nearby! Tell me how you feel!”
How he felt was not with words.
How he felt was expressed by the way he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to his chest, capturing her lips in the searing but gentle kiss that conveyed more than any noble and dignified words of a lord could.
I love you.
By his strong arms encompassing her like a shelter from the storm.
I won’t ever let go of you.
By tender caress of her hair and back.
I will always cherish you.
By the way his lips were moving against her, whispering silent words understood only by two souls forevermore yearning for each other.
I am sorry.
She was the first one to pull back for air, reluctantly so.
“My love. My beloved.”
She smiled at him, connecting their foreheads, allowing his arms to tighten around her waist and waiting for what was coming next to assess the truth behind his words.
“Am I too much now?” she whispered
“You are always too much. To much for me to keep. To much for me to even wish and pray for. Too much of a blessing in my life. Too much in the best possible sense and—”
This time It was her who cut him off by a kiss, silencing anything else that might come from his lips. He was honest and sincere. And if he was trying to apologize by saying anything else and backing out on what he said back there she probably would not forgive him sensing manipulation. But this?
“I forgive you.” She whispered against his lips.
“Thank God.”
“Is this cottage inhabited or--?”
“No. It’s not. And I intend on taking advantage of it right this moment.” He grabbed her and carried inside bridal style, ready to not get back to London for at least a couple days.
(spoiler alert below)
I got a request for a fluff pregnancy fic.... <3
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idkyetxoxo · 1 month ago
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Aegon Targaryen - Debt Owed
Summary - A marriage, once feared as duty, blossoms into love. Tragedy strikes shattering their bliss when ruthless debt collectors demand a terrible price, leaving them adrift in a sea of sorrow. Now, haunted by loss, they cling to fragments of hope amidst shattered dreams.
Pairing - Aegon Targaryen x reader
Warnings - Violence, infanticide, pregnancy complications (very slight)
Word count - 2275
Masterlist for Aegon • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.
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"I cannot join you tonight, the babe hinders me from even walking long distances, let alone staying up and drinking with you and your companions," I explained softly. The disappointment in my voice was impossible to hide, even from myself.
My loving husband, Aegon sat across from me, concern etched on his handsome face. His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of my hand, a gesture that never failed to soothe me.
"Then I shall accompany you in settling the twins abed," he offered suddenly, standing up and extending his hand for me to take.
I hesitated, feeling torn, the words catching in my throat. Part of me longed for his company, while the other feared robbing him of his deserved celebration.
"That is not necessary," I replied with a gentle strain as I pushed myself to my feet, using the chair for support. "You should celebrate with your companions. You deserve a moment to breathe, laugh, and be free, if only for a few hours. I do not require any assistance."
Aegon's expression softened, his eyes warm with understanding.
"Try not to startle me awake this time," I teased affectionately, feeling a surge of love for him as he kissed my forehead in return, the warmth of his lips lingered, a silent promise of his unwavering presence.
With a warm smile, he opened the door, allowing me to exit.
When our betrothal was first announced, dread had seeped into my bones. The whispers of Aegon's reputation haunted me, conjuring images of a life steeped in cold cruelty and indifference. I steeled myself for a marriage of duty rather than affection, prepared to endure whatever fate awaited me.
 But reality, it seemed, had woven a far different tapestry.
To my surprise, Aegon was nothing like the man I had feared. Instead of coldness, I found warmth, instead of disdain, I found respect. He never found a reason to dislike me, and in turn, I gradually began to see him in a different light. 
As days turned into months and then years, we grew to understand each other deeply.
Aegon has shown me a kindness I never expected, and in return, I have given him my heart. Though our union was born out of political necessity, it has blossomed into a genuine love story, one that neither of us could have anticipated.
As I walked out of the room, I glanced back at Aegon, who was still watching me with that familiar look of concern and affection. I smiled, feeling a profound sense of gratitude.
I entered the nursery, my heart filled with a mother's joy as I greeted the wet nurse with a warm smile. 
"Your Grace," she curtsied respectfully before leaving the room, leaving me alone with our precious twins. Their innocent faces, nestled in their cradles, brought a moment of peace.
The tranquillity shattered like fragile glass as a sudden noise caught my attention. 
Before I could react, a strong arm wrapped around me, crushing me against a solid chest. A cold, sharp blade pressed against my throat, and a rough hand clamped over my mouth, stifling any sound of protest. 
Terror gripped me as I stared into the eyes of a burly man who emerged from the shadows.
"Who's this?" His voice was gravelly, filled with menace.
"The queen," the man behind me chuckled darkly, his grip tightening with every second. Tears streamed down my cheeks unchecked, as multiple horrifying scenarios flashed through my mind.
"Who are you?" I managed to mumble through the stifling grip on my mouth.
"Debt collectors," the man answered callously, his voice a cruel contrast to the tenderness of the nursery. "A debt is owed, an eye for an eye, a son for a son."
My heart pounded against my ribcage, a frantic drumbeat of impending doom, as the man's foul breath brushed against my ear, his grip on my throat tightening like a vice.
"Tell us which one is the boy, and no one else will be killed," the man demanded, his voice edged with menace as he held the blade steady against my throat. 
His accomplice's eyes darted between the cradles, calculating and cold.
"Kill me instead," I pleaded, desperation cracking my voice as the tears continued.
"You are not a son," the man behind me sneered, his grip tightening on my mouth and the blade pressing deeper, sending a searing pain through my neck. 
The physical agony was unbearable, but it paled in comparison to the overwhelming anguish of knowing my innocent children were in danger.
My mind raced, frantic with fear and helplessness. The nursery, once a sanctuary, now felt like a trap closing in around us. The twins, my twins, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, lay peacefully unaware in their cradles, oblivious to the horror unfolding around them.
Every fibre of my being screamed to shield them, to protect them from the cruelty of the world, but I was powerless, held fast by the brute behind me.
The man in front of me took a deliberate step closer to the cradles, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized the infants. 
"We don't have all night," he muttered impatiently, his voice a harsh reminder of the ticking clock counting down to unspeakable tragedy.
"Please," I gasped, struggling against the iron grip that held me, my heart pounding with frantic desperation. "They're just children. They haven't done anything wrong. Whatever debt is owed, take it out on me."
The man behind me chuckled darkly. "Do you think we're here to negotiate?" he sneered, his breath hot against my ear. "A son for a son. That's the price."
His words hung in the air like a death sentence, each one a cold dagger to my heart.
Tears blurred my vision as I pleaded with them, my voice raw with emotion. "Please, let them live," I begged, my entire body trembling with fear and sorrow. "They are innocent. This isn't their fault."
My voice cracked each word a plea torn from my soul. "Please," I begged, the strain of my sobs turning my breath into ragged gasps. "Spare them. Take me instead."
For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, the only sound the soft rustling of the infants in their cradles. Then, the man at the cradles turned to his partner, his tone chillingly casual. 
"Which one, then?"
The pressure on my mouth loosened slightly, allowing me to speak through ragged breaths. 
"I'll tell you," I whispered hoarsely, my voice barely audible amidst the turmoil within me. "But promise me, spare the other."
"Get on with it before I kill them both and then carve this one out of you," the man sneered. His mocking hand rested on my swollen stomach, a reminder of the life growing within me, now threatened by unspeakable violence.
My arm trembled uncontrollably as I lifted it, pointing at Jaehaerys with agonizing slowness. The man behind me released his hold, shoving me aside with a brutal force that sent me stumbling. 
I watched in numb horror as both intruders descended upon my precious son's cradle, their movements swift and efficient, devoid of any trace of humanity.
Tears streamed down my face unchecked, my entire being torn apart by the unimaginable agony of witnessing such brutality against my own flesh and blood. Every fibre of my being screamed to intervene, to protect him, but I was paralyzed by fear and shock.
The sack they brought with them soon bulged with the weight of my son's head, their callous satisfaction cutting through me like a knife.
Then, as if snapped out of a trance, a surge of primal instinct took hold of me. With Jaehaera clutched tightly to my chest, I turned and ran my vision clouded by tears and fear.
Desperation fueled me as I dashed towards the stairs, every part of me focused on reaching safety. Panic clawed at my throat, threatening to overwhelm me, but I pushed forward, driven by the need to protect my remaining child at all costs.
To my horror, there was no sign of the Kingsguard. Dread surged through me, clouding my thoughts and then, disaster struck. My foot caught on the edge, sent me crashing to the ground with a sharp thud. 
The world blurred into a fog of grief and terror as I stumbled, my vision dimming, consumed by the horror of what I had just witnessed. 
My son, my sweet Jaehaerys... gone.
Pain shot through my body, but it was nothing compared to the anguish that gripped my soul. Jaehaera startled awake by the commotion awoke and I finally let out a piercing cry.
Before I could gather my bearings, rapid footsteps approached, and strong arms enveloped my trembling form. Aegon rushed to my side, his eyes wild with fear, his face a mask of panic and fury as he assessed the scene before him.
"What happened?" His voice trembled as he gently pressed his hand over the cut on my neck, trying to staunch the bleeding.
"They killed him," I managed to choke out between sobs, my voice breaking with every syllable. "They killed our boy, Aegon."
A guttural cry of anguish tore from his throat, mirroring the devastation in my own heart, a sound that would haunt me forever.
"Who did this?" His voice cracked with desperation, his eyes searching mine for answers that I couldn't provide in my shattered state.
I could only bow my head, desperate tears coating my cheeks, unable to find the words to articulate the horror that had unfolded moments ago.
"Lock the place down! Nobody leaves!" Aegon's command rang out with authority, his fury fueling the urgency of the guards who swiftly moved to secure the area. 
Their faces were grim, hardened by the gravity of the situation.
"Aegon, he's dead," I repeated, my voice a hollow whisper, as he held me tighter.
Aegon's hands trembled as he tried to shield me from the brutal reality of our loss. "I swear to you," he vowed through clenched teeth, his voice thick with determination and sorrow, "we will find them. They will pay for this."
But his words felt distant, like echoes in a void. My mind replayed the last moments in the nursery, the terror, the helplessness, the sight of Jaehaerys being ripped from me. Each thought was a dagger to my heart, each memory a fresh wound.
I clung to Aegon, my body shaking with sobs, as the reality of our shattered lives sank in.
"Aegon," I gasped, my eyes locking onto his with desperation. "It hurts," I whispered, my hands instinctively cradling my swollen belly. 
The pain intensified to an unbearable level, drowning out Aegon's voice filled with concern amidst the flurry of activity around me. 
As darkness closed in, I reached for him once more, my voice barely a whisper, "Aegon... it hurts." 
The pain wasn't just physical, it was a deep, all-consuming agony that hollowed out my soul.
The last thing I remembered before slipping into unconsciousness was the haunting echo of the queen dowager's screams resonating through the hall.
─── ✦⋅♡⋅✦ ───
When I woke later, I found myself lying in bed, the soft light of dawn filtering through heavy curtains. My head felt heavy as I struggled for a moment to recall where I was. Then, I felt the warm, reassuring grip of Aegon's hand clasping mine.
The maester stood nearby, his expression a mix of relief and ease. 
"You are awake," he said softly. "The babe is fine, your grace. The pain and discomfort were due to strain and worry, nothing more. Rest assured, both you and the babe are safe."
"Aegon," I gasped again, turning my head to find his eyes filled with concern and love. "I want to see Jaehaera," I insisted, urgency trembling in my voice. I threw off the sheets and attempted to stand, but Aegon quickly rose and gently eased me back into bed.
"Please, rest," he urged, his tone both soothing and firm.
Just then, a voice called from the doorway, "Your Grace." It was one of the guards, and beside him stood Jaehaera. The sight of her filled my heart with relief and joy.
As soon as she saw me, Jaehaera broke free from the guard and rushed to the bed, throwing herself into my arms. I held her close, feeling her small, warm body against mine.
"Mother," Jaehaera whispered, her voice muffled as she buried her face in my neck. I stroked her hair, crying softly.
"My sweet girl," I murmured, my voice choked with emotion.
Though Jaehaera was too young to grasp the full extent of our loss, she sensed the absence of her brother. I tried to be strong for her, but my own strength was waning, my heart too shattered to offer comfort.
In the following weeks, Aegon and I grew distant, our shared grief creating an insurmountable chasm between us. He became consumed by his quest for vengeance, while I found myself trapped in a relentless cycle of despair. 
Our conversations dwindled, filled more with echoes of pain than words of solace.
One night, I sat alone in the dimly lit nursery, clutching one of Jaehaerys's tiny blankets close to my chest. His scent lingered, a bittersweet reminder of what we had lost. 
Unable to contain the torrent of grief any longer, I allowed myself to weep freely. The tears flowed unrestrained, a mixture of sorrow and anger that had been building since that dreadful night.
Aegon found me there, his face etched with sorrow as he knelt beside me. His hand rested gently on my shoulder. 
"They will answer for what they've done" he whispered with resolve, his voice tinged with heartbreak.
But as I looked into his eyes, I knew that no amount of vengeance could fill the void left by Jaehaerys's death. 
The wound was deep, aching with a pain that would never truly heal.
A/n - I did listen to Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby by Cigarettes After Sex on repeat whilst writing, might have influenced some of the heartache
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d-targaryenshoe · 5 months ago
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To Protect And Adore - Aegon II Targaryen
Word Count: 1219
Summary: Queen nor a Princess shall threaten an unborn child, should they? Most surely not if it's the king's child.
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The dragonfire flickered and danced in the hearth, casting long shadows across the walls of the Red Keep.
You sat in the dim light, your hands protectively cradling your swollen belly.
The child within you was a secret you had kept for as long as possible, but the inevitable truth could no longer be hidden.
You were with Aegon's child, a fact that could change many lives.
Aegon Targaryen, the king, had taken you as his mistress at the time when his marriage to Helaena had been strained and loveless.
You were no noblewoman, but your beauty and grace had caught the eye of the dragon king.
What began as a passionate affair soon deepened into something more, and now, you carried the heir to the throne within you.
But with Helaena's tragic death, the court was rife with intrigue and whispers.
Power was up for grabs, and the position of queen was vacant.
As you sat in the quiet of your chambers, a knock at the door disrupted your thoughts.
Before you could respond, the door swung open and Alicent Hightower swept into the room.
Her face was a mask of cold fury.
"Y/n," she began, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "You should not have allowed this to happen."
You rose to your feet, your heart pounding in your chest. "Your Grace," you said, bowing your head slightly. "I did not intend for any of this."
Alicent's eyes narrowed. "Yet here we are. You are carrying my son's child, a bastard that will only bring disgrace and scandal to this house."
You felt a surge of protectiveness for your unborn child. "He is Aegon's son, and nothing will change that."
Alicent stepped closer, her expression growing darker. "You are a fool if you think I will permit this child to live. There are ways to deal with such inconveniences."
Fear gripped you, but you stood your ground. "You would not dare harm your grandchild."
Alicent's smile was chilling. "You underestimate me. If you value your life and that of your child, you will leave and never return."
Tears welled in your eyes, but you refused to show weakness. "Aegon will protect us. He loves me, and he will not stand for this."
Alicent laughed, a cold, bitter sound.
"Aegon is weak. He is ruled by his desires, not his mind. But you are correct about one thing, he will protect you, at least for now. But even he cannot disobey me forever."
With that, Alicent turned and swept out of the room, leaving you trembling and alone.
You knew you had to tell Aegon, but fear for his reaction and what it might cost him stayed in your hand for a moment.
You could not put it off any longer.
The next morning, you went to his chambers.
Aegon was lounging on his bed, a goblet of wine in his hand.
His violet eyes lit up when he saw you, but his smile faded when he saw your expression.
"What is it?" he asked, setting the goblet aside and rising to his feet.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.
"Aegon, I need to tell you something. Your mother... she threatened me and our child. She told me to leave or she would... she would see to it that our child did not survive."
Aegon's face darkened with fury. "She said that? To you?"
You nodded, tears spilling down your cheeks. "I am frightened, Aegon. I do not know what to do."
Aegon's hands clenched into fists, and he turned away, pacing the room like a caged animal.
"She has gone too far this time," he muttered. "I will not let her harm you or our child."
He strode towards the door, and you hurried after him. "Aegon, please, do not do anything rash. She is your mother."
He turned to you, his eyes blazing. "She may be my mother, but she has overstepped her limits. No one threatens my family. No one."
With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving you to follow in his wake.
You found Alicent in the throne room, deep in conversation with one of her advisors.
She looked up, startled, as Aegon burst in.
"Aegon, what is the meaning of this?" she demanded, rising to her feet.
Aegon strode up to her, his face a mask of fury. "You threatened y/n and our child," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
"You think you can control me, manipulate me, but you are mistaken. I will not let you hurt them."
Alicent's eyes flashed with anger. "I am your mother, and I know what is best for this kingdom. That child is a threat to everything we have created."
Aegon took a step closer, pressing a finger to his mother's chest. "You do not get to decide who lives and who dies. I am the king, and I will protect those I love. If you ever threaten y/n or our child again, I will see to it that you are punished for this."
Alicent's face paled. "You would not dare."
Aegon grabbed her arm, his grip firm. "Try me."
For a moment, they stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills.
Then Alicent wrenched her arm free and took a step back, her expression one of fury and disbelief.
"You will regret this, Aegon," she spat. "You are making a mistake."
Aegon shook his head. "The only mistake I made was not standing up to you sooner. Y/n is carrying my child, and I will marry her. She will be queen, and our child will be the heir to the throne."
Alicent's eyes widened with shock. "You cannot be serious. The nobles will never accept her."
Aegon turned to you, who had been standing silently by his side.
He took your hand and looked into your eyes. "I am very serious. I love her, and I will do whatever it takes to protect her and our child."
Your heart swelled with love and gratitude.
Despite the fear and uncertainty, you knew you would face whatever came together.
Aegon was willing to fight his mother, and risk everything, for your love and your child.
Alicent stood there, her face a mask of fury and disbelief. "You are a fool, Aegon. This will be your undoing."
Aegon turned back to her, his expression hard. "If protecting my family is my undoing, then so be it. I will not be a puppet for you to bear. This is my decision, and it is final."
With that, he led you out of the throne room, leaving Alicent to fume in silence.
As you walked down the corridors of the Red Keep, Aegon squeezed your hand.
"Do not worry," he said softly. "I will keep you safe. No one will harm you or our child."
You nodded, tears of relief streaming down your face. "I know. I trust you."
Together, you faced the uncertain future, your love and determination stronger than ever.
Despite the challenges and dangers ahead, you knew you could overcome anything as long as you were together.
Aegon's promise to protect his family was a vow that would never be broken, and your love would become the foundation of a new era for the Targaryen dynasty.
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