#lord help me i put so many tags

[tisezra]

13 - Emptiness

I feel like my art's improved so much with realizing I have textures at my disposal

edit: why didnt i , add arms ?i know it's originally a triangle but

[lonnitamongus]

I didn't see anyone else post this so I thought I should link this interesting video.

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Cherry Boy. [l.c.]

Chapter One of "Losing it". Reminder that each chapter in this series is stand alone and can be read without reading any of the others!

A new relationship is always difficult to navigate, for Chan, it appears to be even more difficult. For you? You’re just left confused as to why your new boyfriend of a month and a half hasn’t made a move on you despite your very obvious attempts to invite him into your personal space.  You soon realize that your boyfriend is a virgin, and that’s why he’s always running away with his hands covering his bits, even through a simple goodnight kiss. 

ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | reblog for chan's happy trail

WORDCOUNT― 10k

PAIRING― lee chan x afab reader 

CONTENT― brief break up due to horrible communication skills, virginity loss, reader gets super insecure about her body and personality, fluff, smut obv

NOTE― This is the reason I gave chan the first chapter in the series. It's because of those pics...you know the ones. Anyway, shoutout to @ressonancee and @onlyhuis for proof reading this for me! love u guys with my entire being!

smut tags under cut:: 

SMUT TAGS― virginity loss, makeout session, neck kissing, tit fondling, unprotected sex, belly button kissing, mentions and focus on his happy trail, he’s ticklish oops, blowjob, premature ejaculation, pussy drunk chan forgets how to speak, desperate sex babbling, finger fucking, hand and cock guiding, cream pie 

~

Chan has a dilemma, and yes, it’s one that most men would scoff at. 

Trust him when he says that he is so very aware of what is happening around him but he simply cannot manage to muster up the courage, strength, or confidence to admit to you, his lovely and patient girlfriend, that he’s dodging your advances solely because he is the text-book definition of virgin. 

He is not only nervous about having sex for the first time, but there also comes the weight of him either not being good enough when he tries, or you laughing in his face and mocking him for it.

You, on the other hand, wouldn’t be so fucking in your head if he really could just muster up a tiny amount of confidence to say that to you. 

It has been almost two months now since he asked you to be his girlfriend, and throughout this time never once has he done more than a gentle kiss to your lips or lying a slight guiding hand to your waist. It feels so… juvenile, so… middle school for a boyfriend to treat you this way. 

Seeing as how the first three dates you went on with him seemed to suggest he was more than willing to be a fulfilling boyfriend who can, hopefully, fill all of the roles that comes with the title– you’re starting to second guess that he ever liked you at all.

Perhaps the twenty-four year old man asked you that night to be his girlfriend out of pity. Or maybe he’s simply changed his mind about you. Regardless of the reason for why he acts like this, it’s getting to you.

Deeply, actually, by this point. It only stung a bit at first, but now it’s starting to feel like he has to be with you as a joke. Why else would he be consistent in wanting to hang out? Why else would he always be inviting you out on well-priced dates and buying you pretty gifts? 

It’s a joke. 

It has to be a joke. 

Oh, but that’s so far from the truth. If you would simply open your eyes, perhaps you’d notice the struggle that your polite little boyfriend goes through each time you try to suggest he make an advance on you. 

Even the slight kisses, it makes him suffer from embarrassment at how quickly his body reacts to you. 

He likes you so, so fucking much.

~

“I don’t think I’m feeling it today.” You respond to the muffled voice of your “boyfriend” on the phone, asking if he can come over to see you. 

“What? Why not?” He asks back, his voice concerned. 

“Do you want me to be honest?” You finally say with a long and annoyed sigh, giving up on any hope that this relationship will ever go any further than it already has. 

You’re fed up with feeling unwanted, undesired, and possibly even uninteresting. He’s the one person in your life that you care about when it comes to who you are and what you look like. His reaction, or lack thereof, regarding you as both a person and his girlfriend feels astonishing and does nothing more than make you question what it is that you’re doing wrong. 

It has to be you, right? Perhaps your body isn’t as pretty as he wants it to be, is that it? Or maybe your voice annoys him? God, what if he cringes thinking of how you’d move if he were to actually have sex with you? What if he doesn’t think about it at all? 

You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying not to let the intense insecurity weigh on you. You always promised yourself that you’d never let a man make you rethink your worth. 

You need to live up to that promise. 

“Chan, it’s been nice and all, but I think we should break up.” 

The silence he offers to you is entirely too loud, and feels more like a confirmation in your head that this is the exact choice you should be making right now. 

He’s thrown for a loop though, standing at his kitchen table staring off at the wall as you say those words. 

What did he do wrong? 

“Wha–” He cuts himself off, trying to find words to say. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?” 

You let out another breathy sigh, annoyed at the way he plays dumb. 

“I’m shocked you’re asking me that. I’ve been wondering if you were ever going to break up with me yourself, y’know?” You let out a sad little chuckle before you feel that insecurity he instilled in you burn against your eyes. “I’m just making it easy for you, so that you can go and spend your time with someone that you’d rather be around.”

He pauses, still dumbfounded by what you’re saying. 

“Why are you saying that?” He bellows out in a deeper tone, making you feel as though he’s angry with you now. “I’d rather be around you.” 

“Oh? Is that right?” You roll your eyes now, annoyed. “Is that why you push me away when I try to kiss you? Or what about– what about when you left the party last week after I sat on your lap?” 

Ah. He knew it. He knew he should have admitted it. Despite his consistent apologies for his body acting on instinct to run away from you, he should have really tried to see from your point of view rather than his own. Even if he only ran to hide the fact that he is horribly aroused by you at all times, in every given moment. 

You can hear a pained groan fall from his lips, and a door opening on his end. 

“I’m coming over.” 

He doesn’t let you protest, and instead hangs up the phone. You sit there in silence at his rejection of your break up. As if it were his choice? As if he had any say in it? You want to break up, that’s final. 

Still, that doesn’t explain why you don’t call him back to tell him not to come. It also doesn’t explain why your heart is thumping against your chest in anticipation.

Or, maybe there is something to explain why you’re feeling butterflies over his blatant refusal. Perhaps, this is the first time you’ve felt wanted by him? 

That also makes it worse. Why should your boyfriend make you feel this way only when you’re breaking up with him? Why can you only see that he cares when he’s faced with the idea of losing you? By the way he’s acting, you can argue that he wouldn’t be losing anything precious to him if you were to walk out of his life right this moment. 

Still, you sit here in wait. More curious now to see if maybe you'll figure out why he refuses to look at or touch you in a way that would show you he wants you.

~

The first thing Chan does when he steps through the door of your apartment is slip his shoes off. The second thing he does is stand there awkwardly, as if every thought left his head upon seeing your face.

You look like you’ve been crying. 

“This is my fault.” He says with a slight crack in his voice. “Because I keep hiding from you….right?”

You nod silently, remaining on your couch that faces his timid and stiffened figure. 

He stares at you, examining the consequences of his own actions. 

“You want to break up because I haven’t tried to, like, do things with you.” He winces as he says it, struggling to not feel awkward talking about having sex. He’s embarrassed, but would be even more embarrassed if he lost a girlfriend over this. 

“That’s not the only reason.” You shake your head, looking away from him and to your hands as you pick at your nail beds. “I’d be okay with no sex if you’d simply tell me why. The fact that you haven’t told me anything–” Your voice cracks a little bit, feeling stupid for being so emotional over such a short lived relationship. “It kind of destroyed my confidence.”

He watches the way you refuse eye contact, which is something that stabs him directly in the stomach. He can feel it drop to the floor, adrenaline making its way into that empty space you’re creating for him. 

“Before we break up, I just want to know why it took this for you to act like you genuinely might have feelings for me.” 

He stumbles over his thoughts the same way he stumbles over his feet trying to approach you. 

By now, he doesn’t think he can ever feel more embarrassed than he does at this moment. He crouches down in front of you, sad that you didn’t laugh at the way he nearly knocked himself out on your living room floor. Then he looks at you, chasing your line of sight as if to reassure you through nothing but the air in the room.

“I was afraid you’d laugh at me.” He starts, and after seeing that your expression doesn’t change even a little bit, he continues. “You seemed so into me that I–” He takes a deep breath, willing himself to be as honest as he can be. “I just didn’t know how to act.” 

You look at him with irritation at those words. 

“Of course I was fucking into you. Why else would I have agreed to be your girlfriend?” You roll your eyes, pushing yourself back into the couch cushions and away from his crouched body. “Think about how I feel. The fact that you just watch me throw myself at you time and time again? The fact that you rejected me every single time? How is that not giving you the answers you need as to why I’m breaking up with you?”

He takes note of that heightened voice of yours, defensive and likely more hurt than you’re letting on. 

“Listen–” He breathes in, trying to internally hype himself up to bite the bullet. 

You were listening, but he’s keeping whatever it is he’s thinking about in his head for just a second too long. 

“No, I think we’re done h-” 

“I’m a virgin.” He interrupts you, lowering his gaze to the floor and refusing eye contact with you. 

Your eyes shoot to him though. The last thing you would have expected was for him to be a–

“You’re–” You try to repeat his words for confirmation, but he interrupts you again. 

“I can promise you it’s not because I don’t want to do these things with you.” He says, still staring at the floor. “It’s because I was afraid that you’d lose interest over it.” 

Your mouth falls open as you look at him, every feeling of frustration in your body disappearing almost immediately. 

“It’s because I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to, like, be any good at it.” He continues to admit. “I was trying to work up the courage to tell you, or to just like, do it.” He rambles, now scooting back and standing up to his feet. “And if you still want to break up, I understand. I just thought I at least owed you an explanation.” 

You watch as he nods to himself in an unsure way, turns on his heel, and heads back to the door to slip his shoes back on. 

You sit in stunned silence as your brain erases every single insecurity you gained over this month and a half relationship before jumping to your feet. If anyone could have been more insecure about this than you were, it was him. And now that you can see that, the guilt hits you twice as hard as the presumed break up would have. 

“You’re a virgin?” You ask, though that wasn’t at all the words you intended to say. “I mean, you kept pushing me away because you didn’t want to disappoint me?”

He nods timidly, halting his body and still refusing to look at you. 

He has one shoe on, and his other foot half in the other when you make your way over to him, closing the distance quickly and confidently.

“Don’t leave.” You say first, before physically moving his body for him to remove that foot from his half-on shoe. “Chan, I’m your girlfriend. We can wait for as long as you need, I just...”

You pause, now feeling annoyed with yourself for making it about you. Then again, it’s not like you could read his mind. Though, thinking back to all of those instances where he pulled away from you before, perhaps you could have read context clues a little better. 

“I didn’t know–” You trail off, now determined to save the relationship that both of you accidentally started to sink. “Did I make you feel like you couldn’t tell me?”

He feels…relieved by your words. Saying you could wait, asking what it is that made him so afraid to admit it. 

Finally, he presses one foot against his other, pulling his foot out of his shoe and stepping back, looking at you with eyes fonder than you’ve ever seen them.

“It’s not that I felt I couldn’t tell you. I was just embarrassed.”

You very nearly coo out at him, but you keep your distance with both your words and your body now. 

“It’s not that I’m not ready to lose it. Especially with you.” He admits, glancing at you for a reaction before sighing. “I think I’ve been ready for a long time, again, I was just embarrassed and also knew that I should probably tell you at some point…”

“You want to give your virginity to me?”

You watch as he blows his hair up through puckered lips, rolling his eyes before smiling at you.

“It’s not that I view virginity as sacred or anything either. There’s just a lot of weight that people tend to put on it, and I wasn’t sure how you’d react.” He tries to explain as his body relaxes by the minute. “I wanted you to be my first time, yeah. When I asked you to be my girlfriend, I knew I wanted you to be the one to show me what all the hype is about.”

You’d laugh if it weren’t for the fact that this is still kind of a touchy subject. You’re not entirely sure how you feel about being someone’s first time, but you know you have feelings for him and to deny him of sex after you blatantly wanted it so bad from him…Okay, maybe you’re just in your head. Of course you’d be happy to be his first time. 

Ecstatic even. 

“So….” You sway on your feet, looking up at the ceiling before landing your eyes on him playfully. “It’s not because you think I’m disgusting or like, not living up to the standards you want for a girlfriend?”

“Jesus, no.” He says. 

You watch him scratch the back of his head, still probably embarrassed by how low this relationship had fallen due to the awful communication skills. 

“And you’re also kind of admitting that you have thought about it?” You continue, prying out the words you’ve wanted to hear so badly since you met him. 

He pulls back only a little bit, his cheeks warming at the words and the way his brain automatically thrusts him into the thoughts of all of those nights where he absolutely fucking thought about it. 

“Y-yeah. Yes. I have thought about it.” He nods in a self-reassuring way as his eyes land on everything in the room but you. 

You’re quick to give him your own reassurance though, trying to learn his boundary now that the secret is out and the relationship appears to have a second chance at succeeding. 

He can feel you close in on him, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling your face against his neck. There, he holds you back, breathing in deep and feeling the scent of you wash through his body. 

Quite literally actually. As he would normally avoid, his lower half reacts far too quickly to even the simplest of touches from you. 

He pulls back on instinct, but you don’t release your grip this time. 

“You seem as ready as ever, I’ll admit.” You laugh upon feeling him stiffen against you, but you really do try not to shame him for it. “Still, we can wait until you feel ready enough to give it a shot, okay?”

He nods, entirely reassured by the way you don’t press up against it or comment any further about the happenings in his pants right now. Then he sighs out. 

“I can imagine I must look like an idiot right now, getting hard over a fucking hug.” He finally says as he pulls from the hug and makes his way back to your living room. “But we’re okay, right? You’re not breaking up with me?”

You follow after him, keeping your sexual distance, but absolutely indulging in the loving, sweet, and careful cuddling you’ve wanted to do with him for so long now. 

He appears comfortable when you tuck yourself under his arm and rest your head on his chest before answering him.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” You say, feeling his chest heave with each breath and intentionally ignoring the blatant tent in his pants slowly fall back into its flaccid position as he calms down. “It’s kinda cute, you know? That you were so worried about it.” 

His cheeks are still on fire, willing his body to calm itself through this sweet session of cuddling. He doesn’t want to ruin the moment with you, and still, it is embarrassing in the way he knows you’re ignoring it for his sake too.

But goddamn, how heavenly it would be for you to like, touch it right now…..or something. 

“Never thought of it as cute, if I’m being honest.” He tries to joke. “If anything, maybe it's a little pathetic on my part.”

You shake your head against him, feeling more confident of your place in his life. 

“Pathetic? Don’t be mean to yourself. Besides, it’s kind of hot knowing that you got so turned on over a simple hug.” You laugh, hoping you’re not crossing a boundary. “No wonder you ran so fast when I sat on your lap, I definitely would have felt that on me.”

“Alright, alright–” He tries to hush you of your playful remarks, but ultimately, if you really think it’s an attractive aspect of whatever sexual dynamic the two of you will come to have, he’s going to make damn sure you see just how fucking turned on you make him. 

~

Things are good. Great even, now that you can pin point each moment your boyfriend gets a little too overwhelmed with you. He does still push you away, probably out of instinct but he doesn’t shy away nearly as much from intimate moments with you. Especially if the two of you are alone together. 

You’re a bit more careful in public or with friends though, because the last thing you want to do is make him feel insecure about it. Still, there are playful moments where you indulge in the act of touching him or kissing him just to get him excited, just to watch him stutter his way through ordering something. 

The point is, you almost ended a relationship with someone who, arguably, makes you feel more wanted than you ever knew you could. It’s nice, and it feels good. 

Even now, this is only your second full on make-out session with him, you feel absolutely adored. It’s cute in the way he’s trying to train himself to not get hard at even the simplest of touches, it’s even cuter when his efforts fail miserably and he’s arching his body away from you as if he could even hide what he’s packing. 

You don’t push for more, despite wanting it badly. He also doesn’t push…despite also wanting it just as much as you do, if not more. He still seems to need a push of confidence to actually go any further than a nice, non-body touching makeout session. 

This is fine though, and you indulge far more than you ever knew you would when it comes to this kind of thing. As if simply licking into his mouth is foreplay enough to counter a fucking blowjob for him. 

Never in your life did you think you’d be this into the fact that your boyfriend is a virgin. And it’s not even that he’s never had sex, it’s that he seems to want it so bad, and there’s just something about a man who is desperate that gets you going these days. 

Still, kissing him is something that fulfills you, especially with the way he’s avoiding his lower half and keeping it away from you. 

He kisses you back in a telling way though, more telling than that tent in his sweatpants that you can visualize even while your eyes are closed. He radiates the arousal through the way he moves his lips against yours, and the way he lets out little suffering sounds when you kiss him harder and harder. 

His hands stay against your face, neck, and sometimes your waist, but god. His kissing is genuinely just so good with the way it tells on him every few seconds. 

And when he pulls back, he’s out of breath, flushed, and looking as if he would want nothing more than for you to hint, to lay down some sort of implication that he can cling to for relief from the heaviness that’s been in his pants since the fucking relationship started.

You wonder if tonight is the night, because he doesn’t appear to want to stop making out like he did last time. If anything, as he looks at you with those heaving breaths, you can tell he’s thinking harder than he ever has about it. 

“Chan,” You whisper out to him, just inches from his face. “Do you think of me?”

When he keeps his eyes on you, seemingly stunned by your question, you continue. 

“Do you think of me after you leave? When you’re all by yourself in your room–” You turn your head so that your eyes can trail to the space he is attempting to keep from you. “When you’re touching yourself?” 

He feels the words run straight through him, causing an utterly pathetic twitch in his pants. The way your voice comes out soft and sensual as you ask him, as you look at him. He doesn’t even remember words at this moment, not even a simple “yes”. 

He tries to answer by losing a little bit of his self control, turning your head back to him with his palm just so he can chase against your lips out of the sheer arousal, but you pull away. 

“Do you?” You continue, encouraging him to answer you. 

“So much,” He wills himself to whisper confidently, ignoring the fact that his body just forced him to rut up and against nothing, all for you to see. “Every time I leave,” He puts emphasis on his words. “Sometimes I can’t even make it home first.” 

You smile at the image of him rubbing against himself in his car, so desperate to relieve himself of what you do to him each time he comes to see you. Not even making it out of the seatbelt before releasing all over himself, all in his pants. Shaking, panting, all alone and without you. 

“Cute,” You chuckle, finally turning your head slightly and landing a pop kiss on him. “I think of you when I do it too, every time you leave.” 

He looks at you, willing his hips to stay put as he thinks about the image of you doing that in this very room, to images and thoughts of him. 

“You do?” He asks for reassurance easily.

“Mhm,” You look away from him as you sit straight up and then scoot down the bed. There, you lay yourself down against your pillows and look at him. “Come here.” 

He’s reluctant to take your hand. But even he can admit that this side by side makeout session is starting to hurt his neck, and you’re clearly asking him to get on top of you right now. 

“You don’t have to but, Chan–” You say, looking down, “I don’t want you to leave this time.” 

Well, shit, all you had to do was say that. Honestly, the way you look at him with pure acceptance is enough to push him past the wall in his head that keeps him from finally trying to take the next step. You accept him as he is now, surely you’d accept him if he…. doesn’t last, right? What about if he isn’t good at it? 

Still, he finds himself planting one hand on the other side of your head to balance himself on top of you. Still just hovering, not yet wanting or willing to, you know, put it against you. 

You smile. 

“It’s okay, I can tell you’re nervous. We don’t have to do anything else, I’m happy with just this.”

And then you both fall back into another, much more comfortable and natural feeling, makeout session. 

As much as you’d love for him to try and take control, his reluctance allows you to contain yourself. It allows you to respect him and his decision of whether or not he wants to do anything more than this. Still, this satisfies you. And if he really does stay, maybe he wouldn’t be entirely against watching you take care of your own arousal for him. Maybe he’d feel better watching even, taking notes on what you like, learning where to touch you. 

And you know, that really would have been okay but you can’t help but feel like he’s definitely wanting more. With the way his lips grow hungrier rather than more tired, with the way he’s starting to moan shamelessly into your mouth, with the way his hands are trying to travel to more intimate places on your body before stopping himself. 

You might be pushing it with the assumption, but it doesn’t hurt to try and help him, right?

When you feel his hands moving to your waist, up, up, and up until they’re just barely brushing against the underside of your breast, he pulls back again and pulls your shirt down to cover the exposed skin, all while kissing you harder.

You place your hand over his, wasting not even a second as you guide him back under your shirt, right up to where you know he wants to touch. 

And holy fuck does he. He doesn’t even pull back when you lay it against the warm and exposed flesh from under your shirt. His hand immediately starts groping. His lips immediately stutter against you in a relieved sigh from him, and all you can do is kiss him now with the same energy he seems to have in that one single hand. 

“You’re allowed to touch me, but if you need help doing it, just tell me–” You pull back to whisper, trying to take it another step further in the act of kissing against his jaw and down his neck. “I want to touch you too, but I’ll keep my hands to myself unless you tell me otherwise.”

It’s like he really forgets how to talk or give proper consent when his entire body is acting like a fucking greenlight for you right now. He feels so pathetic, on the verge of orgasm with nothing more than the soft fabric of his sweatpants to relieve him, and yet your breast in his hand, nipple hardening under his palm before he musters the courage to put it between his fingers, it’s a lot to take in, okay?

Still, he tries to say something, and he’s even more embarrassed by the way his voice sounds like it isn’t even his own. He sounds broken when the sound reaches his ears. 

“Don’t–” He starts, cutting himself off at the feeling of your lips kissing against the pulse point of his neck. 

“Hm?” You ask, pulling back and away, hoping you didn’t press too much. 

“Don’t stop.” He mutters out again, a little less embarrassed now that he feels you sigh against that same pulse point with the way his fingers fondle your nipple mindlessly. “Don’t keep your hands to yourself.”

Your brain falls into a stunned silence at his words, bringing a type of nervousness to bubble up in your own body. Is this really it? Is this when it’s going to happen? On a saturday night, against your pillows, muffled cartoons playing in the background…..past ten in the evening? 

You can’t help it as you kiss against his neck. You really can’t, with the way he opens himself up to be vulnerable with you while actively being on top of you, while playing with your breasts, while containing himself.

He seems to need you to do the pushing, but you really cannot shake the nervousness of being his first. You’re almost certain he is nervous about so many things, but still he appears to be eager to try. He’s eager to be with you, and, ultimately, to know what it feels like to be with another person that matters to him in that way. 

“Is there–” You stop, breath caught in your throat, only to fall out against his throat when he finally seems to have the confidence to make his first move. One that would seem so small to anyone else, but he– he raises a hand and holds the back of your neck, trying to press your lips and guide them to the area of his neck that he wants you to kiss. 

And you do, with blatant encouragement to him for doing that, all while trying to finish your previous thought. 

“Is there anything you want me to do for you?” You ask, kissing and now, licking against the spot on his neck that makes him shiver. 

He sighs in a shudder, craning his neck to expose more skin for you before his hand stills against your nipple and he pulls his hand from your shirt. 

“All of it?” He starts, a bit unsure of himself. “Everything?” He adds, pulling himself back from your lips and watching you fall back to your pillows. He leans his body up, relieving his legs from his weight and sitting on his heels in front of you, only slightly between your legs now. 

You can see that he has a bit more confidence with the way he’s looking at you. 

“I want to try all of it.” He continues, placing two hands on your knees, pushing your legs together and using his palms to make them sway left and right. It’s as if he’s thinking hard. “I mean, if you want to.”

You smile. 

You want nothing more than to do this with him, for him, and for yourself. 

“Yeah?” You ask for confirmation, now lifting yourself and re-positioning yourself onto your knees to mimic his own stance. 

He nods in a blatant and shy way, knowing that you can physically see how badly he wants this, and how badly he wants you to be the one to do this with him. He’s achingly hard, and he isn’t sure if he’s ever managed to get this fucking hard in his entire life.

It really is painfully arousing, with the way his pants stretch against the head when he’s sitting like this. The way the fabric offers little to no sensation but while looking at you, he feels all fucked up and warm. He tries to forget that there’s precum all over him, seeping through the pants that are presented before you, and god, the way you look right at it. 

He doesn’t shy away despite being as shy as he could possibly be right now. In fact, when your eyes trail back up to him, licking your lips before smiling, he a fucking goner. He knew he wanted you bad, but never did he know he needed you this badly. 

He’s so fucking lucky. 

“It looks… big.” You comment, leaning forward only slightly and sizing your boyfriend up. “But for your sake, I’ll try to control myself from moving too fast. I’ll go slow, okay?”

He doesn’t even nod, he’s too entranced with you in front of him, fully clothed, lifting his own shirt off of him as if he is incapable of doing it himself. Then again, he kind of is incapable at this moment. He swears his IQ must’ve dropped to a single digit by this point. 

And when that shirt comes up and over his head, you note that he doesn’t even blink. That small moment where his face was obscured as you pulled it off of him? His eyes stayed on you both before and after, only now– his hair is a total fucking mess and all you can do is feel endeared by it. 

“God, you’re so fucking attractive,” You groan in sexual frustration with an eyeroll. “I can’t believe someone hasn’t jumped your bones yet.”

Now he breaks eye contact at the praise, glancing away from you and trying his hardest not to smile like an idiot at those words. 

“To be fair, I’ve fucked up my fair share of relationships being embarrassed.” He laughs. “Kinda glad I did though.”

You land your eyes back on him, staring blankly at his naked chest and trying your damnedest not to look at him like he’s some piece of meat. But goddamn, the body of this man. 

“Come here, switch places with me.” You smile, reaching forward and trying not to think too hard about the way his arms flex when you grip them to move him. “Here, lay back.” 

And within seconds, you’re between his legs and looking down at his half-lidded, arousal driven eyes. 

“Fuck, really?” You groan again, glancing away. “It’s really taking everything in me, Chan, it really is.”

His heart is doing flips as he stares up at you. He feels doted on, adored, attractive. So he encourages more of those annoyed praises from you. 

“Taking everything in you to…?” 

You chuckle, because the audacity of this drunk and in love fool. 

“Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted to be in this exact position?” You smile, reaching down to run your fingers down his chest and straight to that happy trail that he so readily hid from you. “It’s taking everything in me to slow down–”

“Then don’t.” He says proudly, albeit still a bit shy at your words. 

You can see how red his ears are, only partially hidden by that head of messy ass hair. His stupid pretty eyes and gentle smile are directed straight at you without any type of reluctance. 

“There’s my confident boyfriend.” You chuckle, toying with the hair beneath his belly button and trying to not comment on the way his body jumps a bit at the feeling. “Was wondering where he went after he asked me to be his girlfriend.”

And he remains silent after that, watching the way you take the reins and lean down to kiss against that same spot of his neck. Warm breath fanning over the skin before attaching yourself there. 

Surely you can feel the way his hips react, humping up at each flutter of your lips. If you couldn’t, he knows for a fact that you’ll be able to now. With the way you trail down, across his own sensitive nipples, and then down, down, down. 

He glances down at you at the same time when you glance up at him and right then and there he thinks he melts. He’s never seen a woman look at him from this angle, and it’s only a little bit detrimental to his heavy and pathetic cock. The twitching never stops, he feels so fucking sticky in his pants and it really just doesn’t stop. Continuous leaking, and he really had no idea that there could even be this much pre-cum. 

Then, he’s pulled out of his thoughts with….a tickle?

“Oh?” You smile, leaning down to repeat that lick up his happy trail before landing a kiss straight on his belly button. 

His body jumps again, and he lets out a moaned chucked unintentionally. 

“Oh.” You smile wider, gripping both of his hips with your hands and holding him down in a playful way. Repeating the act once again. 

Your suspicions are confirmed with a third jump of his body, and another chuckled, frustrated moan. 

“So, he’s ticklish too?” You say with another kiss against his belly button before fluttering your fingers at the side of his hips. 

His entire body goes rigid before melting against the bed in an attempt to not react to the way you take advantage of a hidden weakness he had. God, he should have known that…like, sex stuff could be ticklish. 

“No– I’m not.” He lies, jolting again when you continue to test the resilience he thinks he has against your lips and fingers. “Hey–!”

And, well, you would’ve stopped if it weren’t for the fact that his hips raise with each tickled sensation, and you can genuinely feel how damp and heavy he is in his pants. It’s entirely arousing in the way its weight is obvious through his attempts to wiggle from your ticklish touches. 

“Alright,” You finally relent, landing one final kiss to his belly before licking down that same line of hair he offers his body. “Chan, I want to–”

His hips immediately raise to your words, the wetness from your tongue feels like ice against his skin when the air hits it and at this point, he thinks he knows what you’re suggesting. 

“Please–” He nearly cries out in a stutter. “Touch it.”

You smile as you nuzzle your nose against his abdomen before giving him a short nod that you know he doesn’t see. Considering, well, he just threw his arm over his face and keeps his hips tensed, and his ass only slightly lifted off of the bed. 

Desperate. Willing. 

You prepare yourself for seeing it for the first time by not seeing it at all just yet. Instead, you kiss down until your lips are met with warm, damp fabric. Immediately you can feel his length twitch under your lips when you reach it, and all you can manage to do is flatten your tongue out and against it to feel it pulse again. 

And again, until that same arm thrown over his face reaches down in a desperate attempt to take the pants off for you. He’s the one losing his self control now, no embarrassment or nervousness in sight from him, and it’s so fucking attractive to see him do it.

His shaking fingers fumbling with the waistband, shoving the pants down just an inch or so more to reveal more of that trimmed hair.

You don’t comment on the way he’s acting out of fear that it’ll make him feel shamed or even mocked, despite you truly believing it might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen a man do in front of you. 

Instead, you help him. Sinking your own fingers beneath his pants and tugging them down all in one go before allowing your eyes to land on it. 

“Jesus fucking christ.” He moans out, the air alone offering an overwhelming amount of sensation due to the temperature change he now feels between his legs. 

You finally look at it, so dark in color. As if all of the blood in his body resides only here. You gently move your hand just over it, feeling the heat radiate from him, seeing the precum continuously dribble from the head, and then, finally– 

“You’re so….” You trail off, in awe of the way his body just….keeps reacting. So much pre-cum. “Hard.” 

He releases a broken little sound at the feeling of your fingers finally touch him, and it feels insanely different from when he touches it himself. As if he’s not in control of his pleasure, and it’s all just you. You are the one who feels good against him. 

You’re shocked briefly when his hand makes it’s way back down to yours, grabbing it and essentially trying to get you to stimulate him more. He puts so much pressure against your hand, sandwiching it between his own palm and stiffened cock. 

You’re tuly in awe. This man has essentially edged himself to a world record, surely. 

“Slow down,” You try to soothe him, moving your hand against him and watching him retract his hand. “Relax, It must feel good, right?”

That little sob he lets out shows you his frustration. So needy, so ready. And even with you moving your fingers to circle his pulsing length, his hips continuously fuck up, not allowing him to have even a moment without a forceful amount of stimulation. 

“So good,” He moans, entire brain focused on what your hand is doing and unable to open his eyes. “I want it so bad.”

You don’t think he hears you chuckle and you’re thankful he doesn’t. You can imagine he would genuinely be embarrassed to know you’re witnessing his pure blissed-out and aroused-state of mind right now. 

And it’s not shocking that he’s entirely focused on himself at this moment, because he’s the one experiencing this for the first time. Even if you find it hard to believe that another woman has never touched his dick, you’re entirely flattered that it very well may be the case and that he wanted you to be the one to make him feel this good. 

“I’ll give it to you, just relax. I’m not going to stop.” You reassure his needy movements, and the way his body squirms at the slightest of touches. “What feels good?”

God, he’s so frustrated. 

“All of it.” He groans shortly, trying to take in a deep breath and just relax like you asked him too. 

You nod to his closed eyes and slacked mouth, fighting against his hips to be the one to pleasure him rather than himself and only when you blow a gentle breath against the head of his cock do his hips still and he shoots his hands up to your pillows, gripping them as if he’s preparing for something. 

You watch intently at the way he’s actively fighting to move now, waiting impatiently for you to do something now. Licking his lips, chewing on his bottom lip– god, he’s so pretty up there. 

Then, you grant him a new sensation. Only because by this point you’re the one who is about to lose control. 

You stick out your tongue and lick all the way from his balls to the head of his cock, making sure to keep pressure against it so that you can taste all of the arousal he’s spilled up until now. And while you were going to pull back to examine his reaction, this is the part where you release your self control.

The taste alone was enough to have you moaning, vibrating your voice against the vein of his length and then circling your lips around the head. 

Instantly, you suck at the feeling of pre-cum still pouring out of him. This time, there seems to be more. Coating your tongue with an almost sweetened salty taste. 

You feel briefly the way his hips chase the new warmth, clearly wanting to tuck itself into your mouth and quite possibly, down your throat, but you pull back and blow once again against the head. 

His entire body shivers as you glance up at him. 

You can barely comprehend just how into you he looks right now before rolling your own eyes in arousal at the image before immediately giving him everything your mouth has to offer.

Who cares if he comes too fast? Fucking look at him. You’d be stupid not to suck the absolute life out of him! That’s your boyfriend up there, chewing on his bottom lip, eyes sparkling through hooded lids, chest heaving–

And god, you almost wish he wasn’t as big as he is because it’s difficult to keep your eyes open when you take it in. You have to focus on sliding it through your lips, against your tongue, and right up to the back of your throat where the head of his cock bumps.

He can feel the way your fingers grip his legs through it, and by this point he has gone entirely non-verbal at the feeling. 

The only sound he can make comes from deep within his chest, and he can only release those sounds with heaved out and rigid breaths. His heart is pumping faster and faster the deeper you managed to take him, and–

“Ah! W-wait!” He panics, sitting straight up and becoming fucking floored at the way you stay on him. Moving your hands to his stomach and trying to shove him back. “Fuck,” He seethes as he takes in a sharp inhale, legs shaking as he flops back against the pillows. “Fuck, i’m sorry.” He continues to murmur, feeling himself hit the wall of orgasm and practically pulverize it. 

And you, oh, you. You taste it. You feel the twitching and the way his muscles stiffen under your fingers. You can hear him muttering apologies as it spills into your mouth, down your throat, and even out of the corners of your lips. 

You try to take all of it, up until you can’t fucking breathe, and only then do you pull up and replace your mouth with your hand, watching in awe at the way he just……

It doesn’t fucking stop. 

He went from rigid to stammering his words, to now blatantly and full-on moaning through both the pleasure and frustration of losing the warmth of your mouth. 

“God, Chan….” You whisper in a raspy voice, slowing your hands and intentionally pumping it out of him by now. 

“I’m sorry–” He stammers, body still shaking as you pull the rest of it out of him. “I tried to,” He winces with another unintentional moan. “I didn’t think it would feel that good.”

You smile both proudly and fondly, watching him stumble through his words and whatever excuse he tries to come up with. 

“I don’t think you know how hot you look right now.” You finally say, in a more stern voice. “You couldn’t have stopped me if you wanted to.” 

Only now, when he’s absolutely drenched himself in his release does he open his eyes in a drowsy way. He looks at you and that little smile on your lips and decides that, yeah, he can believe you. He trusts you, and he’s entirely obsessed with you. 

“But we still haven’t–”

You cut him off quickly.

“We have all night. All day tomorrow. All week, month, year. I don’t care.” You dead-pan, reaching for his, somehow, still hard length. “Chan.” You add, gripping it and testing the actual hardness of it. “You’re still hard, which is fucking amazing by the way, and you have no idea how wet I am right now.”

Oh, my god. He forgot. 

“You– you’re turned on?” He asks, looking away from you. 

“So fucking turned on.” You confirm for him, now releasing his length to give him a bit of a rest, considering he must not realize he’s still shaking. “Look, feel.” 

You say it as you crawl up and on top of him, seating yourself right up against his abdomen and grabbing his hand. 

He just stares, watching you guide his hand straight to the seat of your shorts. 

“Oh.” He sighs out. 

“Even through my shorts. See? Feel it.” You continue to move his hand against you, trying not to rut your own hips up much like he was doing before. 

Brain malfunction. He doesn’t even have a fucking IQ at this point as his cock immediately reacts in all of it’s sensitive, pathetic glory. 

“Do you want me to, um,” He swallows around a breath he didn’t know he needed. “touch you? Can I try?”

You sigh, relieved that he’s willing and immediately push yourself off of him and take care of all of the busy-work as quickly as possible. ie: taking off your clothes.

Unfortunately, you somehow briefly forgot that the man is still a fucking virgin. You can very nearly see his mouth fall open at your nude body being revealed to him. Even more so, you can see the dribble of saliva that he doesn’t quite catch fast enough, and his cock reacts. 

“You’re so cute, god.” You praise with the same compliment you’ve been giving him all night. 

And when you seat yourself next to him, hugging one of his arms and tucking it between your legs before closing your thighs around it, you smile at him and the way he literally cannot stop staring with his mouth agape. 

“Babe, you’re drooling.” You chuckle, shifting your hips a bit to rub yourself against his knuckles, where you’re still hugging his arm. 

Only then does he slurp up his embarrassment and try to remain calm. His fogged brain comes back to him quickly upon your comments as he wills himself to sit up beside you. 

He gets to….touch you. 

And boy does he. 

Eagerly, messily, and quite frankly, kind of embarrassingly. 

You make it easier for him though, laughing as you flop back and spread your legs for him. He’s quick to simply…explore. He’s not aiming for any singular area of your pussy because to be quite honest, he’s still struggling to stop staring at the entirety of you. 

You watch his eyes, the way they stare at your tits, then your thighs, your pussy being petted by his fingertips, and then– eye contact. 

He seems so sure of himself despite still managing to barely touch the clit. It doesn’t bother you one bit, because his eager fingers still find ways to touch you beautifully. There’s so much intent behind the messy movements. 

Slipping and sliding two fingers between your lips, up your folds, and then stopping just short of your clit before sliding back down and feeling where his cock would go if he manages to make it this far. 

I mean, surely he will, right? He’s losing his virginity as he does this right now, even. Foreplay still counts, right? 

And then, after several minutes of him exploring, learning, and practically teasing you half to death, you reach down to guide him. 

“Right here,” You soothe out in a soft voice, pressing his fingers against your clit and seeing him take note of it. “And here.” You trail his fingers down until they reach your clenched hole, and you very slightly press against his fingers so that the tips just barely enter you. 

He tilts his head at you, concentrating on where you lead him before releasing his hand and essentially leaving him to his own devices now. 

And you know, he did tell you he was a quick learner, because almost immediately he’s experimenting with putting a finger into you, and using his other hand to find a rhythm to rub against your clit. 

The whole time, he checks for your reaction, noting when your breathing hitches and when your body tenses. He continues, trying to only do things that make your body react and soon, you’re already turning to mush beneath him.

His fingers circle and tap your clit at a quick pace, with the other twisted inside of you. When he slides his finger out, and then back in, he rubs your clit harder, and god, yeah. Okay. You see his effort, and it’s such a good fucking effort too.

“Feels good,” You finally moan out for him, allowing yourself to give in to the pure arousal of the entire situation taking place. Thinking hard about what it would feel like to have such a desperate cock inside of you. “Use two fingers?” 

He listens instantly, moaning along with you when he slides the other in with the next thrust. His fingers against your clit trail down shortly after, curiosity getting the best of him when he spreads your lips open to see you stretch around his fingers. 

“It’s so warm–” He comments more to himself than to you, watching the way you pulse around him, watching the way your slick seeps out of you. It’s so hot for him to see it up close like this, and his pace slows at the image before him. “Can you take more than two?”

You lift your head in amazement at how he could ask such a thing. 

“Chan.” You smile at the way he jumps in surprise at your sudden, louder voice. Fingers nearly slipping out of you. “I can take way more than just two fingers.” You glance down between his legs. “Way, way more.”

He glances down to what you’re looking at before letting out an embarrassed sob.

“You’re really going to let me?” He nearly whines in excitement. 

You nod, reaching for him and pulling him to you by his shoulders. You land a kiss against his lips, trying not to shake at the way his fingers angle different inside of you as he moves to chase your lips.

“Mhm,” You soothe against his lips, intentionally scooting your hips down to your best ability to sink his fingers into you more. “Move your fingers– it feels good like this.”

He listens, feeling you throw your arms around his neck and cling to him through it, all while moaning and groaning right up against his lips. You’re not even kissing him, you’re just….acting like this and it’s fucking great.

He thought he would be the only one to be desperate in this situation, yet here you are, clinging to him as he works his fingers in you. 

“When?” He finally asks upon noting the way you start to move your hips against his fingers. 

You peek your eyes open and pull back to look at him. 

“Now? Do you want to do it now?” 

He nods, slipping his fingers out of you and inspecting how wet they’ve become. 

“Can I?” 

You finally fall back, leaning against your elbows and spreading your legs wide in front of him. Lending him a nod, you watch the way he just freezes after the fact. 

All you can do is laugh at this moment with the way he loses any ability to remember how sex works. 

Then again, you wonder if he ever even watched porn, considering how he’s acting and couldn’t manage to find the clit. 

“Do you want me to be on top?” You question, blinking up at him and his blank expression.

He shakes his head at you, still frozen in his spot before his eyes slowly make their way down to the glistening sheen against your pussy. 

“Don’t we like, need a condom or something? I can’t promise I’ll be able to pull out.” He asks, finally glancing away. “I don’t know if I can last as long as you want me to….”

And with that, all you do is lunge forward, grab your boyfriend by the cock, and pull him to you. 

He laughs, you laugh, and then it’s silent when he leans over you, feeling his length lay against your core, already feeling spent but so, so ready to give himself to you. 

“I’m on birth control. You don’t need to pull out.” You smile evilly, wiggling your hips and watching the way he closes his eyes tightly as if to regain his composure of those words. 

“I’m seriously in love with you.” He mutters, pushing his hips forward and letting his length slide through the mess he made of you. 

You smile, feeling that by this point, your face may actually be stuck like this permanently, and lift your head to kiss against his lips once more. 

“You’re ready?” You ask quietly, against his lips. “I can help you adjust to where it needs to be. After that, I want you to do what feels best for you, okay?”

He nods timidly, taking in a deep and nervous breath before feeling your hand guide his length to the opening. 

“Go on, slide in it.” You encourage him. 

And he does. 

Slowly at first, gently, until he feels your wet hot walls envelop the head of his cock in full, clenching, pulling him in. 

His arms shake from either side of your head as he balances himself there, and it doesn’t take long for him to drop his head against your shoulder in deeper breaths than he was taking before.

The sensation is so much, it’s no wonder people like to have sex. It’s so good, you feel so, so good around him. He can’t help it when he slides in deeper, not stopping until he’s releasing a wet moan against your shoulder and holding onto you as if his life depends on it. 

He thought that once he got it all the way in, it would get easier. But it doesn’t. Even as the two of you are unmoving, with your hands in his hair and soothing him through it, you still clench him. Your pussy still stimulates it without either of you doing a damn thing.

You on the other hand, won’t admit to struggling through that one, long and languid thrust inside of you. It felt as if he was splitting you open despite how wet you already were, and still are. The heaviness, the consistent twitching, all of it stretches you out more than you even knew you’d need and god, it feels so good to have him just hold onto you like, to have him adjust to the feeling. 

He’s no longer a virgin, and that’s not even what matters right now. 

What matters is the way he continuously nuzzles his nose against you, snaking his head to your neck and moaning consistently against your ear when he manages to finally move. 

He pulls out only a little bit before his hips stutter at the sensitivity, then he pushes back in. 

In and out, in and out, until–

“Fuck.” He moans, lifting suddenly from your neck, sitting up, staring directly  at where his cock sits inside of you, and he just… lets go.

Knuckles white against the grip of your waist, he powers through the sensitivity, he fucks through it. Fast, with no real rhythm or ability to realize just how deep he’s pushing himself into you, and then….

He’s done for. 

“That’s it,” You encourage him through half moans at the feeling, your swollen clit begging for a little bit of attention too. “Shit, Chan, that’s it.” You continue, losing yourself in his reaction to you. 

He only moves faster, his hips only stutter more, and thank fuck he already came once because he wouldn’t have made it a solid inch into you before coming undone if he hadn’t. Now though? He’s pleasantly surprised to be lasting even this long. 

Until he’s not, of course. 

And there, between your legs, he presses in as far as he can reach and loses his breath. 

Eyes rolling back, eyebrows furrowing, mouth agape, a deep moan rumbles from his chest as his shiver flows through his body at the first release inside of you.

You immediately shoot your hands to your clit, feeling it pump inside of you much like it did in your mouth. Already so much, you feel entirely full, and entirely ready if he can manage to keep coming for as long as he did before. 

You fingers assault the swollen nub so fast, working yourself up much like you would during a quick session of masturbation, not wanting him to miss out on what it feels like to have a girl come on him– 

It hits you faster than you can realize. 

Even when he buckles and falls back to your chest out of breath, you can’t even tell him that it’s happening. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t move just yet. Well, until he feels your pussy clench him tigher than before. In a rhythmic way, almost. 

Only barely can he lift his head to watch you, and that’s when he notes that you’re holding your breath. 

You pussy is pulsing, and then–

“Are you?” He questions, experimenting with the idea of trying to thrust into you as he asks. 

There’s the breath you’d been holding. 

“Yes!” You call out, both to answer his question and to appreciate that little thrust he gave you.

Even if his cock is slowly becoming flaccid, you’re still full, and he can still feel the orgasm wash over you. 

He’s silent through it, wincing at his hyper-sensitive cock and very nearly cursing it out for not having waited just a minute longer to release– then, you’re hugging him. 

Tightly. So tightly, you’re holding onto him and breathing into his hair. He can barely breathe himself with this hold you have on him. Still, he doesn’t fight it, he simply lets you. 

Letting you cling, letting the last jolting pulses of your core push the rest of him out of you. There, he manages to lift from your weakening grasp and throw himself beside you. 

Out of breath, sweating, a total mess, he looks at you like he truly will never be able to love another person the way he does right now. 

And it falls silent for a long while before you roll over, throwing both an arm and leg over him. 

“Man,” You sigh out. “How does it feel?” You ask this time, opening your eyes to playfully look at him.

“Huh? What?” He asks, quirking a brow. 

“You know, now that you’re not a virgin anymore. How does it feel?” 

He thinks hard for like two seconds before taking in a deep breath and smothering himself against the top of your head. 

“Like I’m in love with you, maybe.”

And you know, given that this relationship is barely even considered one in the eyes of most people. You don’t think you care. 

“Because I made you feel good, or because you want to let me make you feel good for like…” You pause, lifting your head to look him in the eye. “the rest of your life?”

He doesn’t even have to think twice. 

“The second reason.” 

“You’re such a simp, Chan, really.” You joke, skewing your head fondly to look at him. “But I think it’s worth a shot.”

~

Chapter two: LOSER. [wonwoo] ― coming soon!

series m.list

[dipperscavern]

reading the father cregan most has made me feel things ?? my womb is empty ?? and waiting for cregan ??

ALSO KISSES i will always read your tags. they are the favorite parts of my day, in addition to when you post. notifications stay ON.

climbing up the walls with more thoughts of father cregan 🤠 (gods be fucking good, this does sound like a convent. hi sisters!) 🛐

i digress. as we have well established, cregan is a lovely father. he's patient. he's a leader. and he's got that stark loyalty and determination to protect what he loves. which is you and your little pups. (ur so right. he only refers to them as pups.)

i imagine that when your water breaks, you are squeezing this man's hand to the point of bone breakage. pleading with him not to leave. so when the maesters come in and settle you, they look at cregan, expecting him to leave the room - per tradition. one of them, maybe the youngest, starts speaking. "lord stark-" and cregan shuts that shit DOWN ☝️ "your lady stark does not wish it." and everyone knows to shut up and listen when it comes to lord and lady stark.

he is absolutely the type of lad to pick your kids pups up as they climb all over him. once in a post, you described his back as burly enough to sled on and your kids are determined to test that. HELP CAN we actually picture cregan's velocity sliding down a hill like 😐 while his kids are giggling, sliding on his back. hi! hello!

he tells your kids stories of the north in that rugged god-sent accent as he tucks them in for bed. will probably sneak out with them in the night to go get lemoncakes from the kitchen. he gives them cute little fur cloaks to wear, with the house stark embroidery. THIS IS SO CUTE I AM GOING TO SOB

holds them during his meetings. could literally be planning to go to battle or smth, and one of his kids comes in. he just puts them on his lap before continuing with battle strategy. he was just meant to be a dad. he's so giddy about it. so in love with you, and grateful that you gave him this. you gave him chubby little pups running around the castle, hands up in the air reaching for you both. he just wants more :((( crawling at your feet, in your arms, and more in your belly.

i fear i'm going to crash out if i continue. (will definitely be continuing with more asks later. ✊️)

-🔄❄️

REVERSE ELSA ANON HERE TO GRACE US ALL AGAIN !!! yes pls continue later arF ARF ARR ARF

u read my tags….. stop ily. notifications on too i am truly honored. ANYWAYS… SISTERS SISTERS GATHER ROUND. GATHER ROUND FOR FATHER CREGAN

you are so right btw. because when your water breaks, that’s when it all becomes real to you. yes, you want this babe out, but birth is a scary, painful thing. hearing the stories of men choosing to save the babe instead of the mother (i glance to viserys), or of men being done with their wives after they do their duty has only heightened your worry in having to go through it. cregan would never do that to you, you know this, but the thought is a scary one, and it lingers nonetheless. it doesn’t help that the rational side of your brain isn’t in charge right now. you’re afraid.

so when cregan goes to leave and fetch the maesters, you, not usually one to make demands — find yourself almost yelling one.

you both stand rooted to your spots, looking at the fluid on the floor. he was trying to help you into bed, but apparently your pup had other plans. you’re momentarily paused, cregans arm around your waist, hand enclosed in yours while facing the bed. shock hangs in the air as both you realize what this implies. he moves to remove himself from you.

“I will fetch the—“

“No!”

your tone of voice stops cregan in his tracks. has his brows pinching not in their usual hardness, but concern. he had hardly begun to turn away before you reached for him. he tilts his head to look at you, your own dropped down, gaze fixed on the floor. you look at him, a mix of so many emotions on your face cregan could not begin to name them all. you have a hand over your stomach, the other firmly clasped over his arm.

“Do not go. Please, Cregan. I’m afraid.” he’s never heard you like this before. fearful. you mistake his worry for refusal.

“Please— I ask this of you—“

“You need only ask once.” he reassures.

you sigh, relief flooding your veins at cregan heeding your request. it’s tradition for the husband to remain outside of the birth room, but you’re not sure you can do it without him. cregan only pulls you closer, shouting the name of your sworn sword that has been made to accompany you everywhere since the late terms of your pregnancy. the knights response is instant, opening the door with a hand on the hilt of his sword.

“My Lord.”

“Fetch the maesters, Ser. The babe is coming.”

the knight only hesitates with shock, before bowing with the ghost of a smile on his face and running to do as commanded. the entire castle has been waiting on your pups arrival, you both included.

eventually, the maesters arrive — and in tow with them, an army of midwives and your usual ladies in waiting. cregan stands at the foot of the bed, far enough to be out of the way, but close enough to be at your beck and call. they’re attentive, maesters setting up their various herbs & medicines as your ladies in waiting prepare the room itself, your midwives attuned to your every move.

one of the youngest maesters, new in his craft, looks at cregans unwavering form with hesitation. he swallows, and begins to speak before one of the elder maesters can stop him.

“My Lord, it is tradition—“

“Your Lady Stark does not wish it,” he says, looking at the young maester. “So it shall not be.”

the man only nods, returning to his work with his head low. the other people in the room, who have served under cregan for years, know when lord & lady stark come out to quiet themselves & get to work.

the labor is long, and the birth difficult, but cregan is there every step of the way. eventually, hours upon hours later, your pup enters the world — kicking and screaming.

“A boy, Lord Stark!”

cregans heart skips a beat. a boy. an heir.

before you know it you have three. two boys, and one girl. cregan melts into the father role like he was made for it, and every time you get the gift of watching him interact with your kids, you get more and more convinced it is so.

watching them hang off his back, giggles falling from their lips, stretched in a wide smile as his much larger arms come to support under their legs. the view of it from behind makes you laugh, each & every time. cregans back almost swallows your kids whole, their tiny frames dwarfed in comparison. even so, he handles them with a gentleness most wouldn’t expect from the wolf of the north. alike to how you might handle a butterfly landing on your fingertip, or the delicacy used to handle newborn foals.

cregan verses them in the culture of the north, along with its stories. tales of vampire direwolves, the old gods & weirwood trees, and the stories cregan himself was told as a child. he’s careful to not scare them too much, but sometimes, other people can get carried away. a guard or one of the men on his council letting a frightening tale about the others slip, resulting in them asking to sleep with you and cregan for the night. of course, you oblige every time, generous in your reassurances that the others are no match for Ice — or for their father.

your daughter has him wrapped around her finger. pleas of staying up just a little longer, or riding just down that trail are almost always obliged. he can’t help it, when she looks up at him with those big pleading eyes of hers — the ones that are akin to yours. asking him sweetly if they could please check for any leftover lemon cakes. it’s late, she should be asleep, but cregan can’t help himself. opening the door in a way so it won’t creak, hushing her giggles and buying the cooks silence as they get a late night snack.

and yeah, when one of his pups stumble into the council meeting, he doesn’t turn them away. he picks them up to slot them on his lap, and the stern look on his face is all they need to see to know to be quiet if they want to stay. he could be planning anything — from a hunt, to going to the winter town himself to take care of a group of men intent on causing havoc. it could lead to bloodshed, but your kids don’t seem to hear that part, just content being with their father.

cregan wouldn’t trade this life for anything. he loves his pups, and he’s so in love with you. passing by each other during the day, and cregan always stops you, pulling you to him to slot his lips against yours — no matter how busy he is. he can’t help it, you’re just so lovely, and you’ve given him so much. he thinks of you every time he looks at your pups, and he feels his heart skip a beat in his chest. seeing your pups throw snowballs at each other, and he can’t resist, pulling you close & bending to connect your lips with his. you melt into him every time.

[sluttysnowangel666]

The Wolf & The Wildling

Part 2 to The Woman Beyond the Wall, last part.

masterlist

Summary: One year after Cregan’s near death experience with the wildling woman he met, he returns beyond the wall to find and recruit her in hopes of fighting alongside him for Rhaenyra Targaryen at the start of the Dance of Dragons.

cw; smut af come on you know me, really rough cregan, overstimulation, bit of angst but a happy ending :3, talks of SA, childbirth, no use of Y/N but an x reader,

stop not me getting emotional at my own story bc i imagined the end of scott street by PB playing at the ending😭am i a cornball?? anyways, thank you to the anons in my asks for the inspo, i wasn’t even really sure how to continue this story, although i knew i wanted more for cregan and his wildling, you guys gave me the inspiration i needed to give them their ending! tag list: @rebeccawinters

Every day Cregan hadn’t gone back out there felt like another day wasted.

He struggled to do his duties, struggled to sleep, fight, listen, do anything that required attention from him.

And yet despite their rather harsh separation, Cregan still thought of her with every free moment he had. It didn’t help many lords were also insisting the Warden of the North marry a noble daughter. He knew he had to do his duty, but couldn’t find the strength to do it.

It had been so long since he’d seen her that he’d begun to forget his favorite parts about her. It felt as if her strange laugh no longer echoed in his mind, as if he could no longer envision her scarred yet still smoothed skin.

He had the dagger with him always. It was like keeping a piece of her with him. He remembered the pain so vividly, could still feel the throb in his shoulder if he thought about it too hard.

Yet, the ache was nothing compared to the painful thought that always seemed to stay in his mind.

Would he ever see her again?

He couldn’t help but wonder if the Gods had greater plans for them. He prayed that they did.

“My Lord.” A voice interrupted Cregan from his thoughts. He stood, turning to face the person. “A raven has arrived from Dragonstone.”

Cregan took the scroll from the maester, quickly opening it to reveal its contents. It was a letter from Rhaenyra Targaryen. She was sending her son in hopes of gaining the support of the North, and requested Cregan have an audience with her heir, Jacaerys.

He would have to return to the Wall.

He hadn’t returned, much to the dismay of the Nights Watch, since he had nearly died from his wildling’s arrows. Even the thought of going near the Wall made his heart skip a beat. She would be so close, yet so far. He knew he could no longer avoid the wall. His duty to the men there was dire, and he had let his own fears get in the way of that.

As for his lover, he wasn’t even sure she still wanted him. As far as he knew, she hated him; she wanted to put an arrow through his eye, his dagger through his chest. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to see her again. No lady had ever compared to her. He had found his other half, and now felt empty without her.

If he did find her, what would he even do? They were bonded by love, yet separated by more than a Wall.

The separation would soon not matter anymore.

Winter is coming.

———

A fortnight later

Castle Black

Cregan had welcomed the prince to Winterfell, then accompanied him to the Wall.

The young men walked, discussing terms of Cregan’s service.

“In winter, my duty to the Wall is even more dire than the one I owe to King’s Landing. I need my men here.” Cregan says to his prince.

“Whilst your men guard against wildlings and weather,” Cregan twitched at the word wildling. “the Hightowers plan to usurp the throne. If my mother is to defend her claim to hold the realm united, she needs an army. War is coming, to the whole of the realm my lord. We cannot wage it without the support of the North.”

Jacaerys trails off, standing against the guard that overlooked the entire outside of the Wall.

“My father brought King Jahaerys and Queen Alyssane to see the wall. His Grace stood at this very outlook and watched as their dragons, the greatest power in the world, refused to cross… Do you think my ancestors built a 700 foot wall of ice to keep out snow and savages?”

“What does it keep out?” Jacaerys asks.

Cregan finally looks beyond the Wall for the first time in a year, his mind thinking of her for a brief moment, and then the darkness that lies beyond it. “Death.”

“I have thousands of graybeards who have already seen too many winters. They are… wellhoned. I can ready them to march at once.”

“If your graybeards can fight, the queen will have them.”

“They’ll fight hard.” Cregan says, his mind once again thinking of his love as he says his next words. “Like Northerners.”

Jacaerys senses something; more words that the Warden of the North wished to speak.

“Is there something else you can offer us, My Lord?” Jacaerys asks.

Cregan hesitates. “There is a woman…” He looks. beyond the wall again. “She is fierce, deadly with a bow. If I can find her… I can ask her to lead the graybeards into war.”

“Should she accept, my mother will be more than pleased to have her.” Jacaerys asks.

“My Lord!” Cregan turns, “A raven has arrived… Urgent news from Dragstone.”

Cregan looks at the man holding the scroll, who holds a sight of worry on his face. Cregan quickly opens the scroll, reading its contents.

Cregan looks at the prince, and Jacaerys tries reading the man’s stoic features.

All Cregan can do is hand Jacaerys the scroll, and let him read for himself.

———

Another fortnight passed following the news of the death of Prince Lucerys Velaryon. Jacaerys had left the Wall at once to return to Dragonstone, whilst Cregan began to prepare his graybeards to march.

“My Lord, why must you go back beyond the Wall? The graybeards do not need a leader. I do not think it wise to let them be lead by a woman beyond the Wall, let alone the one who killed the Lord Commander of the Nights Watch.” His maester tells him, worried of how the people of Winterfell and the men on the Wall will react.

“They will not know she’s a wildling. Tis’ not important information. All they need to know is she will lead them well into battle. I trust you’ll keep this information I’ve shared with you private, Maester Windell.”

“Of course, My Lord. You can count on my discretion, always, but I fear wonder if this journey is for more than a leader.”

Cregan stops his packing, not wanting to share more information than he already has with his maester. “No, maester. I only am going to help the Queen. I will be back shortly, with or without the wildling. Winter is coming, and I will not get lost beyond the Wall.”

The maester didn’t argue, so Cregan made his fortnight journey back to the Wall, and then beyond it.

He felt fear when his horse took its first steps onto the icy tundra outside the Wall’s gate. He feared he would not find her, feared she may have died, feared she would kill him before he got to kiss her one last time.

The late summer snow was not too harsh yet, but Cregan knew he did not have long to find her before Winter came.

He searched for days for her.

He returned to the spot where he first set up camp, finding the bark where he had carved a dire wolf had been completely torn and shredded by a knife.

When he returned to the cave it was dark, and no trace of her had been left behind. It made it feel like the moments they shared in there never happened.

He felt lost. He set up his camp in the cave, but she had not snuck to it during the night like last time. If she had, she truly left no trace. But, he knew he hadn’t felt her yet. She wasn’t there.

2 weeks into the journey, he had dreamt of her.

He dreamt he was a wolf, hunting, when he finally saw her.

She was sleeping, ever so soundly, beneath a bright red weirwood. He growled at her, and she awoke quickly, immediately grabbing and aiming her bow at him.

She gasped quickly, catching her breath as adrenaline coursed through her veins.

She released the arrow into his eye, and he awoke.

He was sweating despite the cold, and the burning feeling in his eye was lingering.

He rubbed it softly, but then directed his attention back to her in the dream. It was really her. She looked different. She looked stronger somehow, and her hair had grown greatly. She had it in a long, thick braid. There were bags under her eyes, like she had been exhausted from something.

He stood and exited the cave. The sun was slowly rising, but there was a blue hue that made the snow on the ground glisten. He closed his eyes, stretched, and yawned when he heard a sound.

It was a familiar sound… the sound of a bow string being pulled tightly.

He lowered his arms from his stretch, and opened his eyes.

There she was.

There she was.

She knelt on one knee, aiming her arrow at his eye. Her eyes burnt with a fire that he’d never seen, her breathing was quick and angry, her lips turned in a sad scowl, she was fueled with adrenaline.

He smiled, laughing softly. He couldn’t believe she was here. She pulled the string tighter at his sweet smile, her heart breaking at seeing him truly here.

He took a hesitant step towards her, but stopped.

A soft whining sound came from her back.

His smile faded.

She lowered her bow slowly, eventually dropping it completely. She had a fabric diagonal across her body. She moved it underneath her arm, and then twisted it around her body.

Her hands gently found and cradled the babe.

Cregan gasped. He couldn’t believe it.

She softly hushed the babe, tracing her fingers over its face. She whispered soft, comforting words to it. The babe made gentle little noises.

“Is that…” His voice was barely above a whisper. She looked at him solemnly. His hand covered his mouth.

“This is your son, Cregan.” She finally spoke. Her voice was smooth and melodic, different from how he heard her last time. He stepped towards her, falling to his knees. His whole body was shaking, and not from the cold.

“Does he have a name?” He asks, holding his arms out, hoping she’d trust him enough to hold his son.

She nervously hands him his child, fearful he might take her little babe, her only piece of Cregan, and never return again.

“No.” She says. “I only birthed him a moon ago.”

Cregan can’t hold it in anymore, and begins sobbing. All of his emotions pent up from the last year pour out. He holds the babe close to his chest, sobbing relentlessly.

He’d missed her so greatly this past year and now seeing her here, alone with this little babe, he’d realized how badly he erred. He wasn’t there to comfort her, hold her, help her. She had suffered it all alone.

“I’m so sorry.” He sobs.

She stares at him, her face unwavering. She was so angry. She wanted to kill him so bad, to take back her babe and cut his throat.

But, she couldn’t.

He’d broken her heart in such an unimaginable way. She’d cried over him for weeks, and when her blood hadn’t came she knew the worst had happened. But now he was here, holding their babe and sobbing like a child. She didn’t even know Cregan was capable of such emotions. She didn’t truly know him, and he didn’t truly know her.

Her hand found its way to his broad shoulder to try to comfort him. Her other hand moved to cradle his cheek. He rested his face into her hand, spilling wet tears on her.

“Oh, Cregan.” She whispered, wiping the never ending tears from his cheek. She leaned forward and pressed her forehead to his, hushing him like she did their babe. She wrapped her other arm around him, bringing her warm body against his while still being careful of their infant.

“I’m so sorry.” He repeats. “I should not have left you. I should have killed those men and brought you home-“

“Sh, sh, Cregan.” She whispers again. “I’m yours, as you are mine.”

Her words send him back into tears. She presses soft kisses to the tears on his cheek, weaving her fingers in his curls that she desperately missed.

“Where have you been?” He asks, minutes after calming down. “I’ve searched these whole damn woods for you.”

She smiles softly, “You think I don’t know that?” He smiles. “Why did you come back here, Cregan?”

He looks down at their sleeping babe, then back at her. “I’ve wanted to come back every day since I have been apart from you… But, I couldn’t find the strength. I regret it more than anything. I regret leaving you, I regret not coming sooner, I-“

She cuts him off, placing her warm lips onto his. Not breaking the kiss, her hands take the babe from him, setting him aside next to them.

“What are you-“

She slaps him across the face, with such a strong hand that he can’t help but stop and look back at her in total shock. She pulls his lips back into her, confusing him with her back and forth attitude. “If you ever leave me again, I really will put an arrow through your eye.”

He smirks, pulling her back into him with his strength. “Now we’re even.” She whispers.

“We were even when you nearly killed me last year.” He says, she growls at him, but they continue kissing. “I wear these scars with honor.”

She tears into his soft clothes, “Take him inside, and then come back out here and make me yours again.”

He pulls away with haste, grabbing his babe gently and walking back into the cave. She follows, right on his heels. He finds a safe spot for their babe, setting the sleeping child down.

He turns, grabbing her by the neck and kissing her, pushing her backwards out to the cold.

“Be gentle with me.” She whispers into his lips.

“No.” Cregan says, ripping off her furs and throwing them on the ground. She smirks, not wanting him to anyway.

He grabs her by her hair and she shrieks. He pushes her down to her knees, and she sits in the cold snow once again. He unlaces his breeches, and she quickly tugs them down with his soft clothes.

She presses her cold fingers onto his pelvis, and she places gentle kisses along his length. She looks up at him with her big, doe eyes. He pulls her head back by her hair again and she gasps. He pushes himself into her mouth, immediately groaning at her warm tongue. She moans around him, placing her hand at what she can’t fit in her mouth. He grabs both sides of her face, thrusting his hips into her mouth, not realizing his roughness. He had missed her so much, and he was so lost in the pleasure of her mouth.

She gagged repeatedly, her eyes flowing with tears. Her free hand rested on his toned stomach for balance, and she scratched her nails into him from time to time.

He pulled her head back with a pop of her lips, and looked down at the little mess before him. Her cheeks were stained with tears, drool spilling from her lips, her thighs rubbing together to relieve the tension between her legs.

He pushed her back into the snow and got on his knees, placing himself between her legs. He wrapped his hand around her throat again, rubbing his fingers at the wetness between her legs.

“You’ve missed me?” He asks.

“I’ve missed that cock.” She teases.

“Don’t worry. There won’t be much to miss soon.” He presses a harsh kiss to her lips, sliding himself into her. She gasps into his lips, trying to pull away to cry out, but he refuses to let her go. He pulls one of her legs to his chest to give him a deeper angle and she whines into his lips. He starts thrusting, fast and harsh, into her healing cunt. His hand moves from her throat to her breast, now round and large with milk than the last time he’d had her.

“Cregan!” She cries out loudly, finally breaking free from his lips. She throws her head back into ecstasy, her hair becoming wet from the snow. Cregan moans loudly, his thrusts sloppy and quick.

“I’m putting another babe in you.” He moans, forgetting why he was there to retrieve her in the first place.

“I’ll fucking kill you.” She says, slapping him across the face. He looks at her angrily, a wolf awakening inside him. He grabs her face, his fingers digging into her cheeks as he fucks her harshly and angrily.

“I’m gonna cum.” She whines, squeezing her eyes shut tight.

“Don’t.” He says. She gasps, begging and pleading for her release. He slows his thrust, leaving her in agony. She bucks her hips towards him, but he pushes them down, locking her in place with his strong arm.

“I fucking hate you.” She moans.

“Cum for me then, and we can see if that is how you feel for me after.” His thrusts go back to their fast, sloppy pace, and she moans. Her hands grab his wrist, clawing her nails into his forearm.

She hits her peak and moans his name repeatedly. Her fingers dig into the snow again, the other hand digging into his arm. He growls, not stopping and continuing to thrust.

“Stop it.” She whispers, her body shaking at the sensitivity. Cregan doesn’t listen, only maintaining his harsh pace. He lifts both of her legs to his chest, his length touching her womb. “Please, Cregan, fuck!” She whines, tears spilling from her eyes at the overstimulation.

Her fists hit his chest, and yet he continues. She slaps him across the face, over and over again, and he still continues, his face stoic, desperate for nothing more than to see her writhing beneath him.

She sobs as she cums on him again, slapping and hitting him harshly. Her body is a trembling mess, peaking with pleasure and pain. Finally satisfied, he lets his own peak wash over him, filling her to the brim with his seed again, right against her womb. He rests over her, moaning and biting her neck, despite her nails scratching and drawing blood against his neck.

“Cunt.” She moans into his shoulder, holding him tightly against her shaking body. He pulls out, gently, allowing her to rest before he carries her back into the cave, stepping into the hot spring with her in his arms.

She rests against him, and it’s as if they had never been apart. He looks over at their sleeping babe on the ground, smiling gently. He looks back down at his love, his smile fading.

“There is a war brewing in Westeros.” He finally tells her.

“What for this time?” She asks, drawing little shapes on his chest, not seeming to really care about his answer.

He decides to wait to tell her, instead wanting to enjoy the moment with her.

“I’m sorry for what I said to you… before I left.” He says. She sighs.

“Cregan… Do you wish to know why I killed the Lord Commander?”

He looks down at her, confused. He assumed her only reason was she hated crows. She looks up at him.

“Why?” He asks.

She waits before explaining. “He’d come out there before with some of his men. They often hunted wildlings for fun. They’d tell the men back at the wall it was for a hunting exhibition, but really… They were tired of the women from some place called Mole’s Town.”

Cregan was still confused.

“That was years ago, when I was in a tribe… But, the crows just kept coming back… And our tribe refused to leave, because our ancestors had settled there hundreds of years before.” She pauses, “The Lord Commander always said I was his favorite… I left eventually. Turns out I’m safer alone. That’s when I started killing crows.”

Cregan realized he was gripping her arm too tightly, and loosened his hold. What she said changed everything. Men were coming beyond the Wall to force themselves on wildling women. He wanted to be sick. Cregan’s last words to her before he left… that he would kill her for what she did.

Anger ignited inside him, but there was nothing he could do. The Lord Commander was dead, she got her revenge. But, the thought of that happening to her, the words he spoke before he left her alone. It was too much.

She noticed his tension, and placed her hand on his cheek. “My wolf.” She whispered. He closed his eyes and turned away from her touch.

“I’ve failed you… Again, and again, and again.” He says, tears spilling from his eyes.

She straddles him, forcing him to look at her. “Aye. You have.” He looks at her, not expecting brr bluntness. She wipes his tears. “But you’re still mine, Cregan Stark… and I’m not perfect either.”

He presses a soft kiss to her lips, wrapping his arms around her.

“So, what were you saying about the war?” She asks, resting her head on his shoulder.

“There is a war forming between the dragons. It is growing more and more dire.”

“Dragons?” She asked. “Like in the stories?”

“Aye, my lady. Except these are no stories. The dragons are dancing, and the North must stand ready to fight with the true Queen.”

“Queen?” She asks. “Aren’t you King in the North?”

“No, my love. Starks bent the knee over a century ago.”

She leans back to look at him. “Bend the knee to me.”

“I do every time I stick my cock in you.” She laughs, a sweet and gentle laugh, no longer the chaotic one she used to do.

“You’re different.” He says, a smile on his face.

“I am a mother now. My child has softened my witch heart.” She jests.

Mother. The mother to his child, specifically. He couldn’t ask her to lead the gray beards no longer. She needed to return to Winterfell with him to raise their son. His smile fades and she notices.

“You’re different.” She repeats his words. “Why did you come? Truly?”

“You are a warrior… and the North must stand ready.” He looks at her, his eyes worried.

“You… You want me to fight?” She asks, stepping off him and standing. The water stops at her hips, and he tries hard to keep his attention focused on her face. “Just a moon after I nearly died pushing out your fat little babe?”

“No, no, my lady. I do not want you fighting no longer.” He looks at her, taking her hands in his. “I want you to come home… with me. To Winterfell.”

“My home is the North.” She says, taking her hand away.

“No, no.” He stands, resting his hands on her arms. He looks over at their sleeping son. “He changes everything.”

His son would be considered a bastard, by all traits, but he was his son nonetheless. He would raise him as a Stark… as his heir to Winterfell.

“Home is not a place.” Cregan says. “A home is what you make it… My place may be in Winterfell, but it is not my home if you and my son are not with me.”

She sighs. “I’m no lady, Cregan.”

“I know… and I don’t care.”

“I will not watch you marry a noble while I am your whore that you force to work in your castle and fuck at night.”

“I would never ask that of you.” Cregan says, putting his hand on the back of her neck to pull her closer. “Starks are honorable men. You will be my wife, and my son will be my heir. I will kill any man who ever dares harm you again.”

She stares at him as he continues. “I needed an excuse to come back out here… If I told them I came out here to get you to lead the Northern army, then it raised less suspicion. But, I care no longer. I only care about you.”

“What if I say no? That I won’t join you?” She asks.

“Then I would accept.” He looks at his son. “All I ask is you let me bring him.”

She looks at their son. Cregan continues. “He will never know a cold night, he will learn to fight among men, he’ll have a full belly every time he goes to sleep, he’ll be respected by all those around him… and if you came, so would you.”

She looks back at Cregan. “He will join you.”

Cregan closes his eyes, her hand resting against his cheeks.

“As will I.” He opens them to look at her again.

“Truly?” She nods. He laughs, breathlessly, pulling her in for a deep hug. His fingers weave into her hair, holding her tightly against his chest.

“I will fight for you as well.” He pulled away to look at her.

“No.” He says. “No, I need you with me at Winterfell.”

“Cregan… A queen! You honor me, choosing me to lead your Northern army.”

“I don’t want you to.” He says. “What of our son? You could be gone for years… You could not return.”

She laughs, “My Lord Stark… You’d be a bloody fool to think any man could kill me.”

“This is hardly a war between men, my girl. This is a war between dragons, and none will ever be so bloody.”

“Cregan… I am of the free folk, which means I will always be free. Being free means I have the choice to fight for you… and for a Queen.”

———

Cregan returned to Winterfell a week later, carrying his babe in his arms on his horse, with a wilding woman behind him.

His maester was bewildered at the sight before him. “My Lord… Who is this babe you carry?”

“Maester, this is my son and this woman here is his mother… and my betrothed. She will be leading the graybeards in the war. Call upon wet nurses and maids to help foster our son while she is gone.”

“A-At once, My Lord.” The maester stumbled over his words, giving the wildling one last look before going to do his task.

Later that night, her and Cregan sat in his chambers. His lover couldn’t help but explore and ask questions about everything in the castle.

“What is this?”

“A pen and paper.”

“What does it do?”

“Well, you tell the maester a message and then he writes it down and gives it to a raven to send off.”

“And this?”

“A tub.”

“What does it do?”

“Bathes you.” It went on like this for hours, but he didn’t care. He was glad to share with her his way of life. Her naiveness at noble life was sweet.

When they cuddled up in his furs in their now shared bed, she laughed with giddiness. “Ask them to bring more.”

“My love, you’re under four bear pelts and the hearth is at full flame, you’re going to get hot.”

“Hot?”

“Warm, my girl. Too warm.”

“I don’t care. This is all so exquisite. You should’ve brought me here much sooner, you know.”

Cregan simply smiled, looking down at their son in his arms. “Did you have any names in mind for him?”

She hums, resting on her elbow to face them. “Cregan is quite a handsome name.”

“We can name give him a Stark name if you like mine.”

“Like what?”

“How about… Benjen Stark.”

“Benjen.” She whispered, sitting up and touching her son’s dark locks. “I love it.”

Her and Cregan locked eyes, staring at each other in silence. “You don’t have to go, my love.”

“I do.” She says, cradling Cregan’s cheek.

“I wish to marry you, make you Lady Stark of Winterfell.”

“I will be your… Lady… when I return.” She says, unsure of the proper term to use.

He laughs, “Wife. You will be my wife. I can have the maester teach you to read and write upon your return.”

“Truly?” She asks. “Like stories?”

“Stories, history, anything my betrothed wishes to read she can.”

“Betrothed?”

“It means we’re to be wed, at some point.”

She presses her forehead to Cregan’s. “I can’t believe I am here.”

“Neither can I, my love.”

He presses a gentle kiss to her lips, and they fell asleep like that, Benjen full and warm in his father’s arms.

Cregan and his love were only able to share a few nights together before it was time for her to march with the graybeards.

“You are strong, my lady. Command these men like you did me, and they’ll follow you anywhere.”

Cregan lifted her onto her horse, and she nervously settled into the saddle. He stepped onto his own, Benjen tightly secured to his chest as the babe was to his mother when Cregan stumbled back upon them.

She took her hand in his, and he pressed a gentle kiss to it. “Come back safe to me, my girl.”

She smirked, “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to kill some Southerners.”

“Goodbye, my sweet boy.” She says, touching Benjen’s hair one last time.

“Take care of our son, Cregan.” He nodded, tears welling in his eyes.

“I have a gift for you before you go.”

His master at arms came to him, handing him the freshly made dire wolf crest. He pinned it on her chest, and she looked down, tracing her fingers over the craftsman ship.

“You are a Stark… from this day, until your last day.” He said. She looked at Cregan, pride in her face.

“I’ll make you proud, my Lord Stark.”

He handed her the dagger, the very thing that brought them together. “I know you will.”

With that, she turned and slowly began to leave with her horse.

She turned to look back at them. “By the way, I killed your horse last year.”

Cregan’s smile faded, but then she laughed, and he couldn’t help but laugh too. She turned back around, and he looked down at his son, his beautiful little pup. The babe’s big gray eyes staring back at the ones he inherited from his father.

Cregan rode the opposite direction from her. He turned again to look at her one last time, and she turned to look at him too.

He smiled at her, letting the tears fall. She smiled back. He watched her ride the opposite way, and she watched him as he rode back to Winterfell until they could no longer see each other.

He would miss her greatly, but he knew she would return. This parting would not be forever, for they knew that they were bonded by love, seperated by only distance this time. No wall, no duty, no pain would ever come between them again.

He couldn’t wait for her to get back to them so they could start their life together.

Forever.

[nikkisheep]

To Be Alone With You (Part 4)

Anthony Bridgerton x female!sharma!sister!reader (soon)

mentions of Benedict Bridgerton x female!sharma!sister!reader

Warnings: cheating (Anthony is engaged to Edwina), SMUT!!!!!! oral (f), fingering, over stimulation, sexual tension, cursing, body worship, jealous Anthony, biting, angst at the end, hair pulling, breeding kink

I'M SO SORRY IT GOT TO BE SO LONG :)

Summary: Anthony finds out about your art session with Benedict and means to remind you who you belong to as you remind him who he chose to belong to.

Songs to listen to while reading: **= smut part, *=angst

**Amantes: Esme (song is in Spanish but is very soft and sets the mood)

**Take Me To Church: Hozier

**I Wanna Be Yours: Arctic Monkeys

**Shameless: Camila Cabello

**wRoNg: ZAYN

*The Great War: Taylor Swift

*Say Don't Go: Taylor Swift

Tag List: @shealuna, @m-rae23, @littlepeanut03, @aellabridgerton, @sydney-m, @faatxma, @wildthoughtnananna, @uraesthete, @themadhattersqueen, @sydney-m, @theantiquehobbit

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, COMMENT OR MESSAGE ME

You watched the Lady's maids get you ready in front of a large mirror. When it came time for you to get your hair done, your best friend, Phoebe, ushered the other maids out. Phoebe was the daughter of your mother's Lady's maid. The two of you grew to be fast friends as you grew older. Phoebe hoping for marriage and you planning to find a man worthy of her.

"If you are not careful, the others will know what you and those two Bridgertons are up to," She said as she pulled your hair off your neck, revealing the bruises from your "art" session with the second son.

"Phoebe!" You gasp. "I told you that as you are my best friend, not for you to use it against me."

"Darling, I am not using it against you nor am I blaming you. Do you know how many women would kill to be in your position?" She giggled as she put your hair in the tight bun that it needed to be in.

"I would rather not be in my position if I could help it," You said while looking down at your hands.

---

The Bridgerton house was covered in their signature baby blues. There were flowers, candles, and other decor everywhere to be seen. All the Bridgerton brothers were decked out in their fancy suits with those beautiful neck ties. Benedict's was a soft yellow and Anthony's was a dark blue. The others wore white.

Dressed in your family's dark purple color, your mother had the neck line deeper than what is normally accepted. You knew that she just wanted to help you find a man but the only man that you really wanted was one who was engaged to marry your sister.

Moving to the drink table, you grab a cup of water. You notice that nearly everyone else had chosen the lemonade. When you turned back around from the table to the ballroom, one Colin Bridgerton was making his way to you.

Giving a short bow, Colin moved to stand beside you.

"Do tell me, Miss Sharma, how have you enchanted my two idiot brothers?" He asked with a sly smirk on his face.

"Why, I do not have the slightest idea," You reply, hoping that he wouldn't pressure.

"See, I don't know if I can accept that answer, Miss Sharma," Colin said. "It seems that their eyes have not left you since you walked into the room."

With that he left your side, only for one Anthony Bridgerton to step into his place.

"Evening, Miss Sharma."

"Viscount Bridgerton." You nod.

"How have you been?"

"I've been fine, my Lord," You quip. "How has your engagement been?"

He looked at you with a flash of hurt at the sudden mention of his engagement to your sister.

"How was the art session with my brother?" He said with a jealous undertone in his voice.

"It was wonderful. I learned a lot. A lot that some men can't teach." You walked away at the end of your sentence as you moved to the dance floor with Anthony.

The way his eyes looked at you with such passion and desire at the same time nearly dizzied you as his left hand came to rest on your waist and his right holding yours. His warm skin melted through the soft white fabric of your glove and you could feel his warmth through your gown.

Your bodies moved in waves of motion as you stared into each other's eyes, mapping out every hue of color as though this will be the last chance you would see each other. After all, this will be your last chance to see Viscount Anthony Bridgerton unwed. The last chance to be with Anthony Bridgerton. Your Anthony.

"Your gown is exquisite, Miss Sharma." Anthony moves to turn you so your back is pressed against his chest, his arm holding yours across your chest. His lips near your ear so you are the only one to hear, his warm breath fans over your exposed neck and the top of your chest as it rises and falls with the sheer excitement and nervousness that came to being this close with the Viscount, your lover in the darkest nights.

"Thank you," You said. "You don't look to bad yourself, My lord. "

"Anthony," He said. "I have told you to call me Anthony."

"My lord, I have only called you that in private." You began to become flustered with the memories of your night meetings before his engagement.

"You seem to be flustered," He says as he pulls you closer as the music stops, his lips directly beside your ear. "Tell me, do you still think of me when you are with my brother?"

You pull back quickly with surprise. You go to say something, anything but you can't seem to find the words.

"It's okay, darling. My brother is a worthy lover, however, I must make you remember who you belong to." He says before squeezing your dress to walk away to greet a man by his mother.

---

You sit in your room, looking out the window at the small lake outside. The night reminds you of when you first let Anthony touch you.

His skin against yours in the cool water as he moved his lips against yours in fever as he wanted to consume your every thought and replace it with him. The way he picked you up out of the water and laid you on that dock. The way he ravaged you with hunger and lust as he picked you apart and put you back together with pleasure being his glue.

Your hands start to wander up and down your body as you remembered the ways that he touched you, making you feel immense pleasure that you had never known until that night. You shake the thoughts away from your mind as it started to thunder outside, signaling a thunderstorm was about to hit. Just as a loud crash of thunder clapped, a small thud against your window sounded so much louder in the howling wind and rain. You open the window to find Anthony Bridgerton soaked head to toe in water. His hair was stuck to his face and his clothes were stuck to his body. He waved you down and you went.

"Have you gone mad?" You whisper shout.

"Mad? No. In love with you? Yes." He smiles.

"You don't mean that, My lord."

"But I do."

"You made me believe you loved me only for you to propose to Edwina. My sister!"

"I never meant to actually fall in love with you!" He yelled, hands coming to be thrown up in the air.

"So it's my fault that you love me? Is that what you are trying to tell me?"

"No! Yes! I don't know how I fell in love with you." He stared at you as the rain continued to pour around you. "I just know why I love you. Let me show you how much I love you."

"What about Edwina?"

"What of Edwina?" He asked, confused at the even mere mention of her. As if the mention of his fiancee was left a bad taste in his mouth. Not that she wasn't a lovely girl, but because she wasn't you.

"What has happened between you two?" You tremble at the thought of the two of them doing the things that you have done together.

"What do you mean by that?" He asked. "Nothing has happened."

"Have you kissed her?"

"No."

"Have you held her body close to yours?"

"No."

"Has she been given the same pleasures that you once gave me?"

"You are the only one that I have ever wanted to be with that way in a long time. I do not care for Edwina that way. When I told you that I only feel this way about you at the lake, I meant it." He said, moving to grab your hands to pull you closer to him.

His brown eyes bored into yours as he scanned your face for any resistance. He pressed his body against yours as he bent his head down to press light kisses on your neck.

"I desire you so deeply I feel it in my bones."

"I believe that may be the cold and the rain."

-----

You lead him into the house, quietly to not wake anyone, and held his hand as he followed behind you up the stairs. As he stared at you with want, you lead him to your bedroom. He helped you run a warm bath as the two of you had been in the rain for the last hour.

You step closer to him, hands coming up to cup his jaw as you pulled him down to you level and kissed his lips. He gasped at the chill of your lips which lead you to slipping your tongue inside his warm mouth. You moaned as your hands wandered his wet body and started to slip his waistcoat off his shoulders to reach his shirt. His own hands came up to start unbuttoned his shirt before you ultimately ripped it off him.

"I quite liked that shirt," he said with a smirk.

"I'll buy you a new one," You said as you unbuttoned his pants and stripped him bare before you.

Your hands came up and started to touch his body as he kissed you, removing your wet clothes for your body. The two of you laid in the tub as the warm water surrounded you both.

Your head on his chest and his chin on the top of your head gave the two of you the feeling of closeness that you needed.

"I love you," he whispered into your hair.

"I know. I love you too."

You turned to kiss his lips and hold him close to you. Your tongues move together as if they were dancing, in secret promises of love and lust. Your hands explore each other's wet bodies as you lay in the warm water. Anthony's chest tickles your back lightly and you can't help but sigh at the thought of being like this forever.

----

Anthony dried you in the white fluffy towel and wrapped you up before grasping your face to kiss your lips once more. His kiss was slow, exploring your mouth as though it would be the last time, not knowing if there would ever be another time he could touch you like this, to taste you like this.

His arms came to pull you flush against his bare body as his hands caressed every inch of your skin, wanting to memorize the feel of your skin underneath his hands, to feel your warmth radiating from you.

He walks you back to your bed, never breaking the kiss until he pulls away long enough to gently push you back so you fell onto the mattress softly, swiftly landing on top of you, connecting your mouths once more. It felt like your air was stolen right out of your lungs and your body set aflame. Your legs spread to allow him to lay in between them as his hands ran down your sides as he kisses your thoughts and air away from you.

Anthony's scent filled your nose as you breathed him in. His touch washed any thought away as his lips ventured down to your neck, kissing and sucking lightly, making you sigh in content as you felt Anthony's tongue gently soothed over any bites that he left as he moved down your body.

Quiet whispers of "You're so beautiful" and "I love you" slipped into the night as Anthony kissed down your stomach and met your hips. Brown eyes met yours as he looked at you for permission. You nodded for him to continue and you closed your eyes as you awaited the blissful pleasure of his mouth on you but it never came.

"Words," His eyes said. "I want to hear you say it."

"Anthony, please! I need you!" You moan as you try to grind your hips into his face.

"I love you," was all he said before he held eye contact as his mouth opened and his tongue touched your pussy. His lips came to your clit as he closed his eyes at the sweet taste of you. He moaned softly into your cunt as you gripped his hair with one hand and the other, the bed sheet. Your hips rolled against his mouth as he pleasured you. You noticed that the bed was moving slightly as you opened your eyes and saw that he was staring at you as he ground his hips into the mattress to relieve himself some of the pressure that was torturing his cock.

"Oh my Lord!" You nearly shout as you clasp a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself.

"Do not bring my title into this bed," He grunted against your body.

You moaned at the sheer feeling of his fingers slipping into your hole, stretching you for the later events with his dick. He looked at your with admiration as he played your body like a violin. Anthony slipped from your hips as he moved himself to rest his face above yours.

"So beautiful."

"Anthony," You gasped into his mouth, panting to catch your breath.

"Does this feel good?"

You moan as his fingers brush your g-spot before curling there and massaging it.

"It does feel good, doesn't it?" He smirked. "So pretty. My pretty girl."

"Anthony," You keen. Your stomach tightening. "Please."

"My sweet girl, you don't have to beg." He looked down at your soaked pussy. "Cum."

Your orgasm wracked through you as Anthony continued to finger you through it. Waves of pleasure washed over you as over stimulation started to set in.

"Anthony," You whine.

"One more."

His fingers sped up as his search for another orgasm from you became desperate.

"Such a good girl," He praised. "My good girl. Doing everything that I tell you. Thinking that she can just fuck my brother but look who has her now. Look at how good you are being for me."

Your back arches as you let out a moan and Anthony clasps a hand over your mouth to silent you. You cum once more before Anthony moves in between your legs once again to line himself up with your entrance.

"Gonna fill you up so good," He groaned as he sunk into you. "Gonna see you so full of me, going to be dripping me for days."

You groan as he starts slowly moving against your walls as you clamp down on him, slowing his movements even further.

"I want to feel you," You moan as your arms wrap around his shoulders and pull his weight on you. You hand goes to his hair and you gasp when he thrusts deeply.

"Oh, Anthony."

"Yes, moan my name. Forget my brother. Forget any other man but me. I am the one making you feel this good." He groans into your neck as he starts to pick up pace.

"Only you, Anthony," You moan, back arching off the bed and your hips rising to meet his. "Only you make me feel this good."

His lips find yours and swallows your loud moans, keeping them for himself and only him. His hips move faster as he starts to get near his release. His thumb moves to your clit and starts to circle it as he kisses your neck and move down to your breasts, sucking softly.

"So beautiful," He moaned. "My pretty girl."

Your orgasm hit you like a train and you bite down where his shoulder meets his neck, earning a hiss from Anthony as he moved over you quickly, jack-hammering into you, trying to reach his end. You hands pull at his hair and his lips find yours.

His warmth spills inside you, your eyes rolling back as you feel him fill you completely. He falls on top of you, trying to catch his breath. You look at him in the soft moon light shining from your window. The rain was still coming down hard outside.

"I love you," You whisper.

He turns to look at you, smiling at your words.

"I love you too."

You smile before sliding closer to kiss his lips. His arms come around your body and pull you closer to his body so your legs tangled together.

"I wish we could be like this forever," You sigh, drawing circles on his chest with your finger.

"I know, I know." He sighed as he relaxed against you. "I wish it wasn't like the way it is."

You turn to look at him with a frown.

"When do you need to be back home before one of my sisters find us?"

"I can leave in about an hour," He said, looking into your eyes before kissing you softly.

"I can work with that," You smile before turning over to sleep against his chest.

"I love you, Miss Sharma."

----

You awoke with the other side of the bed cold. You turned over, hoping, wishing, that Anthony was still there. That he had chosen to stay, to risk being caught just so he could wake up next to you. You remember the feeling that you got when he used "Miss Sharma" rather than your name when he told you that he loved you. It was too vague for your liking. There were three "Miss Sharmas'." You sigh before getting up to start your day.

You look at his side and realize that there was a letter on your bedside table.

My Dearest, Miss Sharma

I awoke with a perplexed train of thought as I watched you blissfully sleep. I love you as deeply as the deepest parts of the oceans and even further than that. I wish there was a way for me to sleep in the same bed as you. To stay in the same home with you, to hold your love as close as I can until it was the only thing that I knew. I wish there were a way for me to undo everything that I gave done. I struggle with words compared to Benedict which on the subject of Ben, I give you my full permission to pursue him. Just because you can not find the happiness that you deserve with me, does not mean that my dear brother can not full fill that void that I have caused to be created in your soul.

I love you, Miss Sharma. How I wish I were able to say, "I love you, Mrs. Bridgerton. My viscountess." Perhaps in a different reality were I didn't propose to your sister, it would be you who I am marrying. Someone that I truly love despite that being everything I did not want when I was looking for a bride.

Yours true and with my deepest love,

A.B.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 28

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: It might be my only full length chapter this week but pls enjoy.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The king keeps you within his sight. As promised, the cloak is brought to the tower chamber. You dawn it as the king pulls on the layers of his duty; tunic, breeches, leather armour, boots, cloak, and the small accoutrements to ward off the cold. For how hotly he burned beside you in the night, you would think he could not feel the winter. 

It is early still. The gray of the sky never fully recedes but it is neither pale nor dark. Even so, the day has come. 

There is a single tap at the door. The king backs away from the hearth. You sit at the table, restless in the cloak with the wolf patch. He calls for the knocker to enter. 

Bryce appears from the other side, his saddles bags over one shoulder. "My king. Roach is ready." 

"Very well," he nods, "summer maid," he turns and beckons to you with two thick fingers, "the good lord will take you ahead." 

"My leige?" Bryce wonders what you do not dare ask. 

"Only be concerned that she remains safe. Warm," he nears and shamelessly caresses your check. You flinch as you refuse to falter.  "You will get her to the capital ahead of us. You will be fleet without so many to slow you." 

You meets Bryce's gaze. In all that you've known him, he has never looked afraid. There is fear gleaming on his eyes. 

"I will always serve you, my king. And never have I denied your command, but might I speak plain?" The soldier faces his master. 

"I prefer you for your candour," King Geralt returns. 

"This will not go without note," Bryce says. "Not least of all by the queen." 

"The queen cares little for the maid. She only cares she has someone at her whim." 

"Be that as it may, but it is not her who would notice. Yet, whoever did, would be certain she hears of it--" 

"I fear not my wife and her temper. She is tawdry. A child. Let her whine and stomp her feet," the king dismisses. "Your concern is appreciated. I understand you only mean to protect me, but I care more to keep her safe." 

"Yes, my king," Bryce accedes, "I will not let any harm come upon the maid. As I've not yet done." 

"It is why I trust only you and Roach. Be gone before the party is abreast." The king faces you, surprising you as he kneels before you. You blanch as you notice the shift in the soldier's posture. "My tender maid, keep you well. I regret that it need be this way but after last eve, I must have you away from this tumultuous party." He takes your hand and pets your knuckles before kissing them. He admires your fingers as if they are adorned in gems. "I will see you in the capital. There, then, we can be happy." 

“My king,” you breathe, “what about the queen?” 

“I shall tend to her should she be dissatisfied. That is no longer your worry. She does not deserve you, treasure.” He avows. 

You stare at him. His eyes are eerie in the low light. You would not and cannot deny him. 

“Yes, your highness, as you wish,” you concede. It was never truly your choice. 

“Before we part, pet,” he squeezes your hands. “A kiss?” 

You hesitate. The soldier turns to the door and feigns ignorance. You dip your chin. The king tilts his head up and you lean forward. As you aim for his forehead, he brings his lips to yours.  

He releases your hands and quickly cradles your head as he braces your hip. His tongue pokes along your lips and you relent to his will. That is as it will be. As it has always been. You have ever been servant. 

He finally parts, humming as his bright irises glimmer, “my treasure, my love,” he rasps. 

“My king, I wish you a safe journey,” you utter. 

“And I shall bid the fates the same of you,” he drags his hand down your thigh and stands. “Safe and quick. Off, before my weak heart gets the best of my mind.” 

Bryce’s sole scuffs and he clears his throat, “come, maid. Put your hood up.” 

You stand and bow your head. You pass close to the king, your cloak stirring against him, and you cross to the soldier. He opens the door and trails you out. You do as he bid and pull your hood up. You descend the twisting steps in silence. 

The corridors are no less hollow and a bitter draft wafts through. The roiling of Bryce’s thoughts ripples from him as he marches next to you. You can only sense him past the fabric of the hood. 

“I shall make you tea for the road,” Bryce says at last. “It should keep you warm.” 

“Thank you, sir, but it isn’t needed,” you say. “We should leave quickly.” 

“Aye, we will be away ‘fore any know,” he agrees, “but not without the tea.” 

You offer no further protest. It isn’t your right to argue. You haven been bidden and so you will do. Obedience never chafed before. Obedience was safe, it was sustenance for any maid. 

You go to the kitchens and wait as Bryce boils water and brews a dark tea from leaves in a pouch he digs from his tunic. He offers it. It carries a pungent aroma. You blow over it and sip. You make a face. 

“It is... strong,” you murmur. 

“So it is, but the leaf will help warm your blood,” he insists and paces back and forth. He is restless to be away. You are as well. 

You drink and he ushers you away to the stables. You stride along the row of stalls and he dodges the nip of a dark steed. He flattens himself against another door and snarls, “the damned beast. ‘Less you can tame her, the king’ll have to keep her ‘neath his stubborn arse.” 

You recognise the mare. It is Roach, the king’s mount. You stare at her and she turns her nose to you. 

“Be wary lest she chomps off your face,” the soldier girds. 

You have little mind to worry for your own nose. You raise your hand pet the creature’s long snout as she plumes hot air from her nostrils. He pushes against your palm and eases, leaning into your touch as you brush along her long head. 

“Come, Roach, we have far to go... I believe,” you say. “Be kind to Sir Bryce. He is brave and kind.” 

“Aye, she seen me ‘fore and I never think she’s thought so,” he snorts, keeping his distance. 

You drag your touch down her neck and put your hand on the latch of her door. She nuzzles your hood and you free her. She steps out as Bryce lingers behind you. 

“Can you saddle a horse? Else I’ll have to brave her bites,” he says. 

“I can. Fetch it and her bit.” 

You dress the horses. Daisy is left behind as Bruce claims Chestnut as his own. You’ll miss your usual mount. 

You get astride and head off into the cold dawn. Your stomach churns as you descend the treacherous mountainside. You’re not sure if it is the thin air, the turmoil of what you ride away from, or ride towards. Perhaps it is all at once. 

Bryce stops you in a natural alcove, away from the winds as he searches his saddle bag. He hands you a leather packet. There are oats and nuts within. He spits out the red leaf he chews so often and nibbles on dried meat instead. 

You eat in silence. The food does not aid in the condition of your stomach. You feel rotten. 

The soldier squints and glances out from between the rockface. He tuts and shakes his head. He puts away the jerky and struts out into the open. He looks up the pass. 

“Eh, I know you’ve been there since we left. Better you show your face before I show my steel,” he warns the wind. 

You frown and fold down the flap of the packet. You hear scratching, then it comes clearer, footsteps. How did he know? Why did he not say a word? 

“It is I, sir,” Ezme declares. “Lord Vesemir--” 

“Aye, I know he sent ya. Why?” Bryce crosses his arms. You step away from Roach as she stomps. 

“He did speak with our great king last eve,” she appears just at the edge of your view. “He offered to keep the made. That the king might return to his throne ‘fore he come back to claim her.” 

“And he was denied.” Bryce says. 

“The king was not amenable, no, yet... Lord Vesemir acts only in accord with his duty. He vowed to protect King Geralt--” 

“And to serve him. As I have,” Bryce insists. “No, you will not have her. I’ve been commanded to take her away.” 

“You could remain. Lord Vesemir knows many secret places. Those that are not on maps. It would be as if the two of you were lost. The king wouldn’t know--” 

“He would,” Bryce growls. “I am not fool, even if all others in this forsaken realm might be. I do like my head on my neck.” 

“It is not safe. Not for the king or the maid. Not for you,” Ezme counters.  

“There is nothing safe in this world. Never has been,” Bryce scoffs. “Be away before I prove that.” 

“Sir Bryce, you have never been unkind.” 

“You ask me to commit treason. How should I be?” He retorts. 

Her head shrinks down. She slowly turns to you. Bryce moves to block her. She stops short and speaks over his arm. “Dear friend, know that Lord Vesemir’s invitation will remain. Always. Even after you leave this day.” 

You blink at her. Your heart is racing. You feel sick. Knots tie into themselves in your chest and stomach. You blow out a cloud of warmth breath into the frigid mountain air. 

“Thank you, friend,” you reply. “I shall follow the king’s command.” 

“I understand,” she purses her lips grimly. She steps back and faces the soldier again, “safe journey.” 

He sighs, “you know I cannot accept.” 

“And I had to try,” she says then spins and disappears back up the incline. 

“So is our call to keep on,” Bryce strides back to you and the horses. “Better sooner, the road will unwind on and on. I tire of it already.” 

You climb back into the saddle and set off again. The further you get, the worse you feel. As if you might be sick, or even as if you might need to lift your skirts in some hidden brush. You feel so wretched you can hardly focus on anything but your body. 

“Sir,” you say, “I must stop.” 

“Aye, mouse, we might,” he reins Chestnut as you tug on Roach.  

You nearly fall off of her in your panic. You are going to spew. You stumble and turn to hide the eruptions. You spit up onto the dirt. 

“I have water,” Bryce offers from behind you. 

“A moment, sir,” you breathe as fullness pulses in your pelvis. 

You go around Roach and hide behind her. You pull up the front of the dress, letting the skirts and cloak shield your back. You reach between your legs as slip your hands down your wool underclothes. Your palm comes away streaked and red. Your blood has come. Early. 

“Are you well?” The soldier asks. 

“Sir, I am,” you assure him and wipe your hand on the underside of the skirt. “It is only a womanly trouble.” 

“Aye, oh, aye,” he grumbles awkwardly. “Take ye time, then.” 

You lean on Roach and close your eyes. You are horribly sore already and exhausted to the bone. Still, you can do nothing but persist.  

“I’m ready, sir,” you lift yourself back into saddle. “I would away.” 

“If we are swift, we will be on flat ground by nightfall,” he says. 

⚔️

The days wear on. The first week is counted by the days of your cycle. The pain and the fatigue has you aware of each moment. Then it is the moon that marks the waning of time. 

The road winds away from the mountains and onto the flatlands. Only for a time before trees rise around you and shroud you in shadow, both dusk and dawn. Between the fir needles and veined bark are those noises that keep you unsettled. 

You camp before a small fire. Bryce works at planting the posts to drape canvas over. The snow is kept off the ground by the thick canopy of branches above. There is some dusting here and there, but it is mostly dry. 

“What can I do, sir?” You ask, as you have done every night. 

“I tell ya again to sit and warm yourself,” he sneers as he hammers in the post. 

“And I repeat I would like to help,” you insist. 

“I can manage. I’m not old man,” he sniffs as he grabs the canvas roll. 

“I know...” you pause as you hear another faraway whine. It sends a shiver through you. “Sir, what are those sounds?” 

He chortles as he works at spreading the canvas over the poles. “Why those are the frostwolves. And the low rumbles will be the bears. The skittering the snow foxes, and the shrill ones, those are the winter birds.” He explains, “they leave ya alone, so long as you keep the fire burning.” He ties a corner into place, “besides, they hate the smell of me.” 

“What?” You gasp, amused. 

“Aye, the don’t like my stench. I came eye-to-eye with a bear. Oh, he didn’t stick around to get a second look,” he scoffs. “And I said to the beast, I don’t mess with ya, don’t be gnawing on my leg. See, I’ve got a truce with the winter beasts.” 

You laugh and sway as you hug yourself. It is awfully cold. Your ears and head hurt almost constantly, even with your hood in place, and the gloves only do so much to keep your fingers from tingling, or your boots for your toes. 

“I s’pose they might be lured by the sweet scent of a summer’s maid. A new flavour,” he teases. 

“You scare me, sir.” 

“Scare you? Oh, but this beast is your friend. You needn’t fear the others.” 

You smile through chattering teeth. He stands straight and eyes you with hands on his hips. “Get close to the fire. You don’t want to catch the ague. Not around here.” 

“I am well, sir,” you promise. 

“Then stay well,” he nears and grabs your wrists. He drags you to the pit and guides your hands over the flames. “Keep close to the horses even. They reek but they put off heat more than cinder.” 

You nod and keep your arms out. It is nice by the fire. The further you get on the road, the colder it is. You could never dream of anything so frigid. It makes you wonder how any can survive in this place, let alone build castles or sow a field. And the more you think of what you don’t know, you are faced with what you do know. 

Your fate is as certain as any of the king’s commands. You will remain in the Hinterlands. It will be your home thus you should acquaint yourself to it. You should become tolerant to the winds and the snow and the wailing beasts. 

“Sir Bryce,” you eke out. “Will you tell me more about these woods?” 

“These woods? Trees, wolves, dirt,” he shrugs. 

“No, sir, I want to know more. I want to know everything. About the Winter Kingdom and the people who built it. What about the king? Not our king, but the one before? I hear much and yet I feel I know less.” 

He huffs and tilts his head, “it is best you know as little as possible about that one.” 

“Was he very bad?” You wonder. 

He sniffs, “I can’t tell you all but what I can is that he was selfish. He was negligent of his kingdom and his people even his own son. He let these lands go to spoil. His name is not one any speaks lightly. It is the reason our king is so loved. Because he is all that his father was not.” He dusts off his hands and shakes his head. “At least, we all hope that proves true.” 

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 3 - You've Torn Your Dress

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: This one's the first of many doozies. I recommend you clock out now if you think the following will distress you: mentions of rape, but no scenes or explicit description. If not, read on! Chapter Title is from Rebel Rebel by David Bowie.

Word Count: 7.7k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Your first mission is delivered, and it goes about as expected. Contains usual tags, emphasis on mention of rape/non-con.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, angst

Read on A03!

Chapter 2 - Chapter 4

Want to be tagged? Just ask!

When your team stepped into the safe house, you could see the moment the smell hit their noses.

“Merde,” Frenchie was the first to speak, a poor omen within itself. “What the fuck am I smelling?”

“Uh, probably the milk and meat. They’re the strongest.”

Annie said your name carefully, watching your reaction as she spoke. “What happened.”

“He wouldn’t put away the groceries.” You said with a shrug. You were over it. It was like, ten bad things ago.

“So you just. Left them out?” Hughie said, seemingly baffled.

“Yeah.”

“Mallory said she delivered them on the first night.” Annie glanced between you and Hughie.

“She did.”

Hughie’s eyes widened further. “That was almost two weeks ago.” When you just nodded in agreement, he pushed further. “They’ve been out the whole time?”

You frowned. “He doesn’t get to win.”

“What are you, five?” 

You just sighed, giving Hughie a pleading look. “Don’t tell MM.”

“What?” Butcher taunted from the back of the group. “That he was right, and you can’t handle Soldier Boy?”

“I thought you were on my side about this.”

“I’m on the side of the truth, Love.”

Both you, Annie, and Frenchie let out huffs of amusement at that claim, with Hughie looking sheepishly amused.

“You can’t possibly believe that.” Annie gave Butcher a pointed look. He only winked in response, leaving her to turn back to you with an eye roll.

“Has it been like this,” Hughie gestured vaguely around him. “The whole time?”

“Nah. Worse.”

Really, hell would be a better word for it. After the knife incident, there had been the toilet paper incident, which you had won, the coffee incident, also your victory, the laundry incident, point Soldier Boy, the TV incident, point you, and the Lord of the Rings incident, another point Soldier Boy. The Elton John, Jimmy Carter, and Rockefeller Center incidents had ended in stalemates akin to the Cold War, but should those fuses reignite, you were sure you could take them home. Overall, you’d burned him seven times, he’d thrown two chairs at you, you tossed shit in his face once and threatened castration on fifteen separate occasions, and he had offered to sleep with you thirty-one times.

“He hasn’t, he hasn’t hurt you. Right?” Hughie wasn’t fully looking at you when he asked, his voice soft and nervous.

“No. I mean, he’s tried. Not in… that way, but I’ve had a few things thrown at me. All the physical violence died out around the laundry incident, though. Now we’re using psychological warfare.”

“Laundry incident?” Hughie said at the same time that Frenchie said, “Psychological warfare?”

“Don’t ask.” Was your response to both. You’d avoid revisiting the laundry incident in your mind for the rest of your life if you could help it, and the actual practice of your warfare was more childish than you’d like to admit.

“Well, as lovely as a reunion this has been, we need to talk to you both. Where’s the cunt,  anyway?" Butcher craned his neck to look down the hall.

“Probably moping around in his room.” You shrugged. “Let’s talk in the living room, standing at the door is weird.”

While the living room hadn’t taken even close to as much damage as the kitchen, it had not escaped you and Soldier Boy’s sparring unscathed. Books provided by the CIA, which were mostly stereotypical classics, had been upended from their shelves and strewn across the floor. The TV was still intact, as was the sofa, but the former was stuck on PBS, and the latter was, at this point, compromised of 70% trash.

“Holy shit,” Hughie muttered as he stepped over a copy of Catcher in the Rye. “You can’t plan on living like this the whole time?”

“Well, if America’s number one man-baby would stop moaning and bitching about his glory days, then maybe, yeah.”

Annie gave you a concerned look. “And if he doesn’t?”

“Then I’ll castrate him.” Though the threat had now been made sixteen times, it never satisfied you less to say it.

“I’ve told you, Sunshine, if you did that, you would only be hurting yourself.”

Everyone in the room fell silent, their eyes trained over you with tense gazes. You turned to find Soldier Boy almost directly behind you. “I’ve told you, by definition, I’d only be hurting you.”

He gave a mocking pout. “Wouldn’t that plague your perfect little conscious?”

“I’d live.”

“Bitch.”

“Cunt.”

“Prude.”

“Manwhore.”

“Whiny Brat.”

“Waste of space.”

“Waste of good pussy.”

“Waste of government money.”

“Waste of Compound V.”

“Pathetic, assfaced Dickwad.”

“Stuck up, pretentious Ice Queen.”

“Geriatric, entitled, blue-balled G.I. Joe Fuckdoll”

The room had practically vanished around you as you and Soldier Boy fell into your now well-tread path of insults. Your blood was burning with that feeling, aching to burst across the room as both of you glared hard enough to, fingers crossed, kill the other.

“Jesus Christ,” Hughie said, breaking you out of your own spell.

“What are they doing here?” Soilder Boy asked, somehow having only just clocked their presence. “Do I finally get to do my job and leave?”

“No,” Annie answered. “We have no way of knowing how long you’ll be here at this point.”

“That’s what I said,” you muttered under your breath, turning back to your team.

“Yeah,” Soldier Boy said at full volume. “And I don’t fucking trust you.”

“Will you get off my ass about it now?”

“I think you like me on your ass, Sunshine. My offer never leaves the table.”

“Cunt.”

“Bitch.”

“Helpless man-child.”

“Prissy tease.”

“Glorified propaganda poster-“

“No,” Annie cut it. “We’re not doing that again.”

“Party pooper,” Butcher grumbled. “I was hoping they’d kill each other this time. Then we could just go home.”

“Well, did you at least bring me drugs?” Soldier Boy seemed to search the room, as if a pile of weed and coke would miraculously appear on the floor amongst the mess of wrappers and fluid-filled paper towels.

“We’re not buying you drugs with government money.” Annie said, giving you a look of apology. “As I’m sure you’ve been told.”

“Many times,” you affirm under your breath. You’d had to hide the glue on day five, which had let to the toilet paper incident on day six. A day had not passed since where you didn’t catch him trying to turn a new household object into something to snort.

“I thought weed was fucking legal now.” Soldier Boy glared at you, as if you were personally responsible for the CIA not buying him blunts. “It’s a free fucking country. I should be able to smoke whenever I damn please.”

“Porn is legal,” you reply. “Doesn’t mean the federal government is going to bring you some.”

“If they brought me porn and weed, I’d be far more open to whatever shit you want from me.” He winked at you.

“We gave you that last time,” Hughie pointed out, shifting nervously. “It barely helped.”

“Will you be a good little supe if we come back with porn and weed? Because we can go and-“

“No, we need to do this now.” Annie spoke over Butcher, and you noticed a line of worry on her forehead, along with Hughie’s nervous fidgeting. Though Butcher didn’t seem plagued by an anxious tell, he relented to Annie faster than you’d ever seen, and alarm bells went off in your head.

“Annie,” you bit the bullet, asking softly. “What is the ‘this’ you need us for?”

She gave you an apologetic look. “Trial run.”

“Trial run?”

“We’re giving you a test, Love.” Butcher said with a smirk. “See if your little experiment is even viable. Maybe take out a player in the process. All depends on if you and him,” he jerked his head to Soldier Boy. “Do your jobs right.”

“I don’t need your little ‘test’ to know if I can do my job.” Soldier Boy snapped.

“Last time you failed,” Hughie muttered.

Frenchie nodded in agreement. “In a spectacular manner, yes.”

“Because that bitch and that pussy stopped me.” An angry scowl was thrown at Annie and Butcher, who returned it and grinned widely back respectively.

“You were going to kill a kid,” Annie said coldly.

“He shouldn’t have been in the line of fire.”

“The line of fire? Do you hear yourself? Do you really care about others so little that-“

“I’d do it again,” he snapped back, unbothered by Annie’s disgust. “You don’t get to ask me for help and get mad when I do.”

You gave Butcher a pointed look. “Aren’t you glad you listened to me?”

Though all you got in response was a grunt from Butcher, Soldier Boy’s eyes shot to you. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

You returned his glare, steeling your own eyes to match his interrogating gaze. “We’re removing the ‘kill a kid’ option from your choices. You want to know why we’re stuck here? Because you fucked it last time, and we won’t let you fuck up again.”

“You won’t let me?” He sneered, leering at you coldly. “You don’t let me do anything, Sunshine.”

If the “Sunshine” thing continued to stick, you might have to throw yourself off a roof. But you didn’t flinch, just tilting your head mockingly. “You wouldn’t need a shock collar if you hadn’t bit the hand.”

“I wouldn’t bite the hand if it hadn’t tried to kill me.”

“Nobody tried to kill you, Mate.” Butcher interjected. Soldier Boy’s anger switched back to him with fists curling at his side, but Butcher kept talking with a bored drawl. “You shouldn’t have bloody fucked up.”

“And, like I said,” you shrugged. “It won’t happen again.”

“If I see the shot, I’ll take it. Whether you like it or not.”

Looking into his eyes, you believed him. No doubt fogged your brain that, given the opportunity, Soldier Boy wouldn’t hesitate to take out Ryan Butcher with Homelander. Part of you, the angry and bitter part still trapped underground, understood that. But you’d see Ryan once, from afar, and he had looked so young. You didn’t have to imagine his fear or touch him to understand what it was like. For your life to change abruptly and without reason, to have to sprint to keep up with your new one. Soldier Boy had volunteered for this life. Ryan hadn’t. You hadn’t.

So, holding Soldier Boy’s gaze, you made your voice clear and steady. “You don’t get to take the shot until it’s clear. Ryan will be out of the picture before you even see Homelander.” You turned to Annie. “What’s the test?”

“Head-popper.” Butcher answered for Annie with an odd look at you. His voice carried the usual light and oddly joyful tone he used when discussing murdering supes, but his eyes on yours were quieter, with less manic vengeance than you’d seen before. If you didn’t know better, you’d call them thankful.

“Head-popper?”

Hughie jumped in at your confused frown. “Neuman.”

“Oh,” you paused, looking over Hughie’s worried face. “We’re going after Neuman?”

“Who the fuck is Neuman?” Soldier Boy asked with a reluctant grumble. You had picked up on his consistent annoyance with new things after you’d found him screaming at the microwave three days ago, and not knowing new people didn’t seem to be any different.

“She’s a supe who can pop people’s heads like balloons.” Frenchie gestured in imitation for effect. “It’s disgusting.”

“And she’s the VP elect, which would put an ally of Homelander in the White House, one step from the Oval Office.” Annie said pointedly, giving Frenchie a look. You offered him a small smile over her head. Though the demonstration hadn’t been helpful, watching his hands fly around mimicking Neuman’s powers was undeniably entertaining.

“She's dangerous,” Hughie added. “But she’s not a bad person. We don’t want to kill her, just remove her powers.”

“What do we need her for then?” You didn’t have to look to know Soldier Boy’s accusation was directed at you. You bit your tongue, trying to ignore the way the words seeped into your skin.

Because he’s right. A cruel whisper said into your ear, and the itch on your skin began to feel like a rash. You were saved from the plague of your thoughts—the urgent feeling to fall prompted by almost nothing—by Butcher.

“If you think you’re going anywhere without her, Governor, you’d better get used to being wrong. She’s there for the same reason she’s here. So you don’t go postal.”

Soldier Boy gave you an unreadable look as the rush of your heart in your chest slowed from Butcher’s words. You turned away from him, but you could almost feel his eyes through your skull as you looked at Butcher with a blank face.

“What’s the plan?” You asked, praying it would be simple, with as few people as possible around and, ideally, in the middle of a desert filled exclusively with fire extinguishers.

“MM and Kimiko are doing recon on one of Bob Singer’s rallies. Frenchie will create a distraction for the secret service, and Neuman’s personal detail is going to suddenly disappear-“

“Disappear?” You interrupted Butcher with raised eyebrows.

“Keep your panties on, they’ve been bribed. Once she’s isolated, Soldier Boy’ll blast her, and we can all go home confident in your little gambit.”

You hesitated, trying to imagine the last political rally you’d seen. Group of people in tight groups, electrical wiring for microphones, speakers, and lights. Gates and closed doors, hallways leading out onto streets. “How are we going to isolate her?”

“Me and Butcher will work on that,” Annie said, almost reaching for you with a reassuring pat, but thinking better and jerking her arm back. She opened her mouth, an apology certainly on her, but you raised your hand to cut her off.

“How long until we leave?” You asked. Maybe they’d say ‘three hours’ and you’d get to talk to someone who didn’t think swing music was sonically viable for a bit.

Hughie checked his watch. “Ten minutes ago.”

“Ago?” Your eyes widened.

He gave you a sheepish look. “We thought it would take less time to get you.” He turned to Soldier Boy. “Your suit’s in the van. I can bring it out-“

“I can change on the way.” Soldier Boy grumbled, ignoring Hughie’s start of sputtering protests. “Let’s get this over with.”

———-

Much to his annoyance, they had forgotten Ben’s shield, and nobody would let him change in the van. He tried several times, only to be met by a chorus of groans, shouting, and swearing. He had listened to their complaints only because she had started giving him a look he recognized as a flag for a storm of uncontrolled fire. No hot disgust or sparks of rage, only a cold and quiet, almost glassy-eyed stare. Her heart steady but her breathing too fucking controlled to be natural, measured so equally that it sounded mechanical. So, because he figured she would only become more bitchy to live with if she incinerated her alleged “friends”, Ben stopped trying to pull his shirt over his head.

Once he did, the van fell insufferably silent. The edged pleasantries and conversation he’d overheard during Butcher and his band of Assholes arrival had ceased save for tense questions and hushed conversations. Ben didn’t fail to notice all the spineless avoidance and careful words directed at them both. She, even after the foggy look faded, remained curled into a corner, trading small and toothless smiles with her team. More timid than he’d seen her before, almost like a scolded child as she looked around the van nervously. Her eyes watched the shadows as though Homelander himself might jump from them, the chew of her lip giving Ben a headache. The only words she spoke were a jab at Ben when he’d said something about political rallies post-election being fucking pathetic—giving him a lecture about American politics now heavily depending on something called “going viral”—only to fall silent once more after. Her team looked at her like a glass bomb, as if she was a delicate statue looming over their heads and not the vulgar, violent woman who slept down the hall from him. That woman infuriated him, testing his patience every time she opened her mouth, but this paranoid, skittish pussy of a girl was so much worse. So when the van halted and Butcher’s team began to filter out, he called her name. When she ignored him, he reached out and grabbed her arm.

“What the fuck!” She pulled herself out of his grip in a second, staring at him with anger. She glanced down at her arms, a look he didn’t understand crossing her face, before returning her attention to him. “Do not touch me.”

“I barely touched you,” he glowered, annoyance quickly flooding him. He had only brushed skin, with a light grip she had thrown off, there was no need to be so dramatic. “When I touch you for real, you’ll fucking know, Sunshine. And you’ll fucking beg for it. I needed to make you listen, you were fucking ignoring me.”

Her brows knit, and he heard the chew of her teeth on her tongue. “I’m not going to beg for anything, and I wasn’t ignoring you.”

“I said your name, and you kept fucking walking.”

“I didn’t hear you.” She snapped, but didn’t relent. “Speak up next time.”

She knew just as well as Ben did that they were both far from quiet, pussy-voiced fuckers. And while he definitely hadn’t yelled for her attention, it shouldn’t have fucking mattered. He’d seen her pick up his grumbled insults and mocking comments just fine over the past two weeks. “Bitch.”

“What do you want?” She asked with a sigh, ignoring his jab and looking at him as if he exhausted her just by breathing. “We have to go, and you still need to change.”

“You shouldn’t let them treat you like that.” He said, not hiding the contempt from his voice. He wasn’t going to skirt around his thoughts, lining them gently to help her fucking feelings.

Her body tensed, her limbs looking as if they’d locked into place. “Like what?” Ben heard her swallow as she answered, her voice not lost enough to make her sound clueless to his words.

“Like you’re a child they have to coddle. A problem they have to deal with.”

She stared at him, her glassy-eyes returning. “Shut up. You don’t know what you’re fucking talking about, cunt-face.”

Ben snorted. “They don’t treat you like the bitch you are. They always use that sweet, pussy voice, like they’re talking to a fucking puppy, when they say something to you. They’re always all fucking pouty when they look at you, pussyfooting around so they don’t make you sad.” He gave her a mocking grin, hoping the next words landed like a bullet. “They treat you like me.”

It had clearly worked, as the van had grown hot, and her eyes were clearing as her heart began to pick up. Ben felt an odd feeling cover him as he heard it, almost familiar and sparking pride in his chest. She wasn’t a jittery shell anymore, she was going to try and kill him. It made his grin grow genuine, and the van grew only more heated, the air waving around them.

Her mouth opened, and Ben hoped whatever came out of it would be vile and crude.

“Hey!” She turned her head and clenched her jaw as someone called her name from outside, the van rattling as a fist banged against it. “We need to go!”

The door opened to reveal the Cocksucker, whose face grew quickly red, a bead of sweat falling from his hairline, as he was blasted with a quickly dying wave of heat.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, turning from Ben as the heat dropped further. “Coming.”

Cocksucker gave her a worried look, his gaze flying quickly to Ben, but just nodded and stood aside for her to move past.

As the door closed and Ben began to change, he listened for their soft, tense words.

“Are you okay? Did he do anything to you?” Cocksucker’s voice was nervous and gentle, like being suffocated by one of those fucking fluffy blankets Ben had seen in the empty bedroom of the safe house.

“No, he just grabbed me to talk. And you don’t have to keep asking me that. I’m fine, and it’s not as helpful as you think it is.” Ben frowned at her voice, the malice from it drained entirely in only a few seconds, replaced with only a tired hollowness.

“Grabbed you?! Like, he touched you?”

Having anticipated Cocksucker being more interested in the “talk” part of her sentence, or the shit that sounded like it was about feelings, Ben's brain rattled over Cocksucker’s word, his tone of panic looping in Ben’s head. He spoke of Ben’s touch as though it were a plague, and not something many people would kill to feel. Ben almost burst out of the van to say just that, but froze when he heard her answer.

“It was fast, I didn’t feel much. Even if I did, it doesn’t matter. I can’t go the rest of my life without touching people.” Her voice had a finality to it, and Ben could almost picture her downturned lips and wrinkled brow.

“You touch us when you heal us.” Even Cocksucker’s voice didn’t sound sure of his response.

“It’s not the same, and you know that.”

There was a momentary stall in their words, and Ben took the opportunity to emerge, securing his belt as he walked to the door. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to see, but Cocksucker looking pathetically around, anywhere but the woman as she curved into herself, wasn’t it. She held a white-knuckle grip on the sleeves of her jacket, her thumb running up and down in small movements. They both turned to him as the door banged open, and Ben caught the empty look behind her eyes before her indifference slipped back into place.

“Did you hurry me just to sit around like pussies, or are we going to start fucking moving?” He asked, the air feeling too uncomfortable to sit in.

Cocksucker blinked, glancing at his watch. “We have a few minutes until they arrive, but I guess it can’t hurt to be vigilant-“

“Arrive?” The woman’s eyes widened, and Ben saw smoke curl from her hold on her jacket. “They’re coming here?”

Cocksucker nodded. “It’s a high-security escape exit-“

“It’s a fucking street, Hughie.”

“That’s used as a high-security escape exit.” After a moment of searching the area, Cocksucker pointed a few yards down, at a large door set against brick. “Neuman will come right out of there, and her guards will close her out here, where Soldier Boy will blast her.” He paused, glancing at Ben, before looking back at the door and taking small, cowardly steps away from his spot between them.

“It’s a public area, anyone could walk past! What the fuck were you thinking?!” Her voice was hushed and agitated, and Ben had never seen her face lose color at that speed before, had never heard her heart stutter and jump as if trying to escape her body.

“It’ll be fine,” Cocksucker’s voice wavered, giving them both a nervous look. “It should be fine. MM said it would be fine.”

“You heard him, Sunshine,” Ben gave her a wink, adding a half-cocked smile when she didn’t even return him with a dirty look. “MM said it would be fine. And have some fucking faith in me, I’m not a fucking monster. I won’t blast any running pussies except for this head-popper broad.”

“You don’t even know what she looks like.” Her tone wasn’t quite the vicious mockery he was used to, but it was better than the apathetic, empty voice she’d been using. She was rolling on the balls of her feet, speaking without looking at him, her eyes moving restlessly from the door to the end of the street. “And I don’t believe you.”

Ben just shrugged, allowing the silence to hang. The wind was picking up, whistling through the chill of winter air, making the heat around them, emitting from both Ben and the woman, all the more obvious. Despite the biting cold, Cocksucker had taken off his stupid puffy jacket, even stepping back further from where they stood, with Ben in the center of the street and the woman off to the left. Despite her slowly stepping further and further back, her back now almost against the wall, Ben could feel her watching him, hear her heart continue its new and erratic beat.

“How long now, Hughie?” Her voice was raised to carry over the wind, though it hadn’t lost that stupid fucking weakness. Cocksucker, thank fuck, didn’t get a chance to respond with pathetically comforting words, as only one skipping heartbeat after she spoke a shrill fire alarm sounded.

“I’m assuming that’s your stupid French fuck's plan?” Ben asked dryly. “Start a fucking fire? I thought you pussies were all about minimal damage.”

“He probably just pulled the alarm.” The Cocksucker’s answer lacked any confident assurance. “And I think we’re just against needless murder.”

Ben almost started to rant about their so-called needless murder being a mighty high horse for a group of people who had manipulated him just as much as Vought, who’d been willing to help him kill all those backstabbing pussies from Payback so he’d help them. About how their stupid fucking moral purity complex seemed to adjust perfectly to aid them, and maybe he wasn’t a fucking angel, but he was strong and powerful—something they fucking needed—man, and he wasn’t a pussyfaced liar about what he was, what he did. The words died on his tongue, though, as hundreds of frenzied footsteps reached his ears.

“Fuck!” he growled, turning around and pointing at Cocksucker. “You fucking pussy.”

Cocksucker gave him an idiotically confused stare. “Dude, uncalled for.”

“She,” Ben pointed to the woman, whose heart was beating impossibly fast and looking on with a bloodless face. “Was fucking right. This is a stupid plan, because unless your head-popper walks like a human centipede, it’s not going to be just her that I fucking hit when that door opens.”

Cocksucker only gaped at him like a fish as the footsteps grew louder, annoyingly unsure stutters  escaping him, and just as Ben decided it might be good to slap the idiot out of his daze, the woman stepped forward.

“We need to move, Hughie. Now.” Her voice wasn’t steady, her whole body was tensed and hyper, but it held a determination Ben almost admired. “We can’t be here.”

“He- he could be fucking lying, or wrong-“

“That’s not a risk we can afford to take.” She cut off Cocksucker’s doubts, and Ben found himself surprised at her defense of him, even if it could barely be called that. Her hands were smoking once more, but she had firmly planted herself in the middle of the road, eyes turning sharply to Ben. “If people see you, any element of surprise over Homelander would be lost. We need to fucking move, you need to get in the fucking van now-“

The door banged open, and the streets flooded as hoards of people in star and stripe-themed outfits flooded the road. Everything became so loud, and that rapt, snapping sound in Ben’s head started to spread through him, spurring the drum in his chest. They were finding rhythm so fast, everything fading as Ben tried to slow it. But there were screams and shouts, and everything was getting further and further away from him while carving into him all the same, so though Ben could hear the sounds of metal clanging and shouts of his supe name, he couldn’t think anything past the beat beat beat, until he lost it all at once.

As his vision grew clear with his head, Ben expected to see shattered bodies and bloody walls. Instead, all he saw was the woman and fire. Her face was flushed red, her eyes crazed, and her clothes had become charred with holes as the fire surged from her into a barrier, cutting them off from the crowd. Cocksucker was yelling her name, urging them both to return to the van and leave, but as Ben moved, he glanced back to see the woman frozen and heard her heart as if it were his own. The wall was growing wider and shooting high, Cocksucker wouldn’t shut the fuck up about moving, but her eyes had squeezed shut, unresponsive to anything but the growing flames.

“We need to fucking go, now!” Ben turned to see a large man he vaguely recognized barreling down their side of the street, his face twisted in anger. Butcher, Starlight, a small woman he remembered fighting, and that French prick followed him, all loading into the van as the large man stopped beside Cocksucker.

“I told you he’d fucking blow it,” the man said, giving Ben a disgusted look, so flawlessly revolted Ben wouldn’t be surprised if he’d fucking practiced in the mirror.

“Hey, I didn’t fucking blow it, you pussy-“

“You said that Neuman would come out of here, that it would just be her!” Cocksucker, much to Ben’s shock, cut him with a high voice and a wave at the wall of fire. “That’s way more than just her! Is she even there?!”

“No,” the man said gruffly. “Neuman saw Butcher and figured out something was up. She’s long gone.”

“Fuck!” Cocksucker yelled, running a hand through his hair.

“Oi, we can go over how MM fucked up later,” Butcher leaned out from the van. “We need to go before she sends Homelander.”

“How I fucked up? You’re the one who disobeyed me and blew our cover-“

“What’s wrong with Madame Anomaly?” The French Prick appeared at Butcher's side.

Cocksucker glanced at the woman, calling her name before turning to the large man Butcher had called MM. “She absorbed Soldier Boy’s blast. I think it got her stuck.”

“We don’t have time for this. Get Soldier Boy in the van, I’ll take care of the Anomaly.” MM repeated the French Prick’s words, and Ben realized they were, for the first time, using the woman’s supe name.

“You heard him, Gov. Get in the bloody van.” Butcher’s words were clearly directed at Ben, but as he climbed into the van Ben saw Butcher’s attention locked on the woman.

MM had moved closer to the woman, a move Ben deemed more fucking stupid than brave. If she had “absorbed his blast,” as Cocksucker said, he wouldn’t recommend any non-supe be anywhere near her. MM seemed to realize this himself at the last possible second, taking a pathetic, stumbling step back with a pause. He and Cocksucker exchanged a look, something passing between them that Ben didn’t understand, before Cocksucker leaned down to grab a pebble from the road. Ben watched as he shakily shook out his arms, wound up, and tossed the pebble at the woman.

It was a terrible fucking idea, Ben didn’t have to be Einstein to know that, but the chain reaction that played out still managed to go worse than he might have guessed.

The woman whirled around, her eyes blazing, with a roar sounding from her chest. Fire shot from the wall directly at Cocksucker. In almost slow motion, Ben watched her face become painted with horror as she recognized her target, a different, fearful sound leaving her. She reached an arm out, her heart seeming to falter, and barely redirected the flames before they hit Cocksucker in the chest. The blaze just grazed Cocksucker’s arm, passed the van clear of anyone else, and hit the building with a boom.

The moment the bricks caught fire and the ground began to shake as the building crumbled, the woman's wall of fire fell. The woman herself remained upright, but only barely as MM shouted her name and she started to stumble to the van. Cocksucker was hauled in by Starlight and the French Prick, the former fussing over his burnt arm—Ben had seen worse at Herogasm and nobody whined about it—and Cocksucker waved her off. The woman pulled herself in, ignoring Butcher’s outstretched hand, and the door closed behind her. MM appeared in the driver’s seat, and as the engine started everyone fell into a heavy-breathed silence.

Through the ride, Ben watched the woman open and close her mouth a million times, returned to her fetal position in the corner but watching Cocksucker with a strained face. Her hands tapped against her still-smoking jacket, reaching out hesitantly before she pulled them back into herself. No words were spoken, not even the anxious whispers of the ride there. Ben felt relief as the van stopped, MM climbing out and opening the doors to reveal the exterior of the safe house, grateful for any excuse to leave these stupid, sniffing pussies to wallow in their failure.

MM led Ben and the woman to the doors, opened them by leaning oddly at the doorbell, and gestured for them to walk through. The man followed them in, shutting the doors behind him with a rough push.

“If we failed the test, I am not doing that fucking shit again.” Ben grumbled as MM turned around from the now-shut entrance.

“Butcher told me about the fucking mess you and him made in here.” MM ignored Ben entirely, speaking to the woman as if he wasn’t even there. “A team cleaned it up while you were gone, and Mallory will send more groceries tomorrow night. I saw a picture, it was fucking gross. I’m only doing it once, because I don’t want a new disease to develop in here. You’re an adult, you should take care of this place by your goddamn self.”

The woman looked at her feet, humming a small acknowledgment. She didn’t look up as she spoke. “Is Hughie going to be okay?”

MM sighed. “The kid will live. I’ll look at him when we get back.”

“I could help-“

MM cut her off with her name. “He’ll be fine. We’ll make sure of it.”

She gave another nervous hum, and Ben jumped in.

“Can you answer my fucking question-“

“We’ll let you know what our next steps are after we talk to Mallory and Singer. This wasn’t good, but it’s not the end of the damn world.” Once again, MM ignored Ben. It was starting to feel personal. Before Ben could push further, MM reached a hand out to rest on the woman’s shoulder, right over a hole in her sleeve. Her head shot up with her heart, but the panic in her seemed to evaporate just as soon as it appeared. Her name was gentle as MM spoke it, eyes locked with hers. “You didn’t fuck up. You did your job.” She nodded slowly. “It’ll be fine.” With those last words, he exited the building, leaving Ben and the woman in the hall.

“What’s his fucking problem?” Ben grunted, half directed at the woman, half to just say it.

She gave him a flat look. “You killed his family.” Before he could come up with a clever response, honest or dodging the annoying feeling of guilt forming in his throat, the woman turned from him and walked away.

———-

You were so tired. Your bones ached, oddly cold in a way you hadn’t felt in a while, your skin crawled with feverish chills, and when you closed your eyes, you could see the flames graze Hughie and the building turn to dust. As MM’s lingering calm he’d offered you faded, all you felt was tired. Worthless. A liability. You had fucked up, just as much as Soldier Boy. Maybe more so, because he had PTSD, even if he would deny being a “hung-up pussy”. He had lost control because he’d been tortured by Russians, you’d almost killed your friend and definitely destroyed a rec center because you’d been startled. You just wanted to sleep, to deal with the inevitable fight about groceries in the morning, running on more than quickly expiring adrenaline and caffeine pills stuck in your throat.

You made it to your room, changing into one of the pajama sets folded in your drawers, hoping someone mentioned that the allegedly fire-proof wardrobe you’d been given apparently wasn’t strong enough for the full force of your fire combined with Soldier Boy’s nuclear explosions. A shame, you’d liked the pants you’d chosen for the mission. You’d live without the jacket, though. You’d hardly pulled the shirt over your head when the door ripped open, a still suit-clad Soldier Boy standing at your door.

“What fucking happened to you?” His question was blunt and confusing as he entered your room, remaining near the door but over the threshold.

Your body was too heavy to fight with him right now. There was no tense prickling on the bridge of your nose, only the throbbing stab of a headache. “Go away, Soldier Boy.”

“All of you have a fucking thing. A weird, sad reason to whine around and pretend you’re better than me.” He didn’t budge, but rather leaned forward. “What’s yours.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You said I killed MM’s family. Butcher’s always pussying around about Homelander stealing his girl. Cocksucker mentioned something about that fast asshole doing something as well. I’m not sure what the French Prick bitches about, but I’m sure it’s something.”

“First of all, you did kill MM’s family.” You really don’t want to do this right now, but maybe he’ll give up and fuck off. A fruitless wish, a small part of you knows, but you have nothing left to push back with. “And Homelander didn’t ‘steal Butcher’s wife’, he raped her.”

“Right.” Soldier Boy watched you, his expression unreadable in the shadowy room. “Those are all fucking things. So tell me what yours is.”

“I don’t have one,” even as you speak the insistence, it sounded fake and hollow.

He takes another step forward. “Yes, you do. I saw how you froze, nobody without a thing locks up like that. I heard Cocksucker ask you if I ‘hurt you’. Just for the record, Sunshine, I may not be a Boy Scout, but I’m no fucking rapist.”

“You’ve tried to sleep with me thirty-three times.”

“And I’ll blow your mind when you realize how much you’d love it, no sooner. What’s your fucking thing.”

You stare at him, the intensity in his voice throwing you off. He’s insistent, comfortable in your room but standing at his full height, attention fixed entirely on you. That impression of dissection has returned—the feeling as if he’s trying to pick you apart for him to play with. “Why do you even care?”

“Because maybe if you tell me, I can kill what supe fucked up your pretty little head and you’ll be less of a bitch.”

You can’t stop the snort that escapes you. “What a selfish fucking cunt reason.”

He shrugged in something that could’ve been an agreement. “Maybe.” He falls silent, but doesn't leave.

You collapse to sit on the edge of your bed, staring ahead as you rub your temple. “Please just go.”

“No.”

You look at him, not caring if he sees the desperation in your eyes. “Can this not wait six hours for the morning?”

“No.”

“Do you know any words but no?” You mutter under your breath.

You didn’t miss his annoyed humph. “Oh, just fucking tell me.”

“No.” It was your turn to snap. Your exhaustion was becoming lined with bitter childishness, and you didn’t care enough to try and suppress your urge to sneer at him.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re an idiotic, self-absorbed, sadist asshat who wouldn’t know empathy if it started sucking his dick.” You mocked.

He grinned. “Ok, now name my bad qualities.”

“I’m not telling you.”

“I’ll start guessing,” he took another step forward, now almost directly before you. “Did that red-headed lesbian steal your puppy?

You frowned up at him. “Maeve was bisexual.”

“Did Noir take credit for a college project?” He ignored your comment, leaning down with a mocking smirk.

“Trust me, I got all my dues in college.”

“Did that gay-for-Jesus blond steal your boyfriend? Did the fast asshole that stole Cocksucker’s girl break up with you? Did water-boy eat your goldfish?”

“I’ve never met Ezekiel, A-Train actually murdered Hughie’s girlfriend, and The Deep famously doesn’t eat seafood, he fucks it. But by all means, keep going.”

Soldier Boy blinked. “He fucks it?”

“Yep. It’s gross.” You shrug. “Are you done?”

“Are you going to answer my question?”

You give a toothless smile. “Not until you get all your guesses out.”

“Oh?” There was unquestionable surprise in his voice at your relent, only making your fake cheer grow and your immature anger fully overtake you.

“I want you to feel like a real fucking asshole when I tell you.”

His face split open with a grin. “Well then, did the Twins kick you out of Herogasm? Did that bitch, Crimson Countess, overshadow your big debut? Did a Z-lister get more attention than you from the Vought pussies?”

You just raised your eyebrows, crossing your arms as Soldier Boy continued until the list of supes ran dry. As the last jeer left his mouth, he mirrored your face of cold amusement.

“Well?”

You leaned back, watching him closely as you spoke. “Homelander kidnapped me, kept me in a dungeon, raped me in an attempt to make more mini-Homelanders, and, after you returned, started experimenting on me to try and recreate the V used on you.”

A small shock rushed through you after you spoke. You hadn’t said any of that out loud, not fully, since you’d escaped. You danced around it with Butcher and his team, with Mallory and the CIA leaders, always picking and choosing parts to omit so nobody would look at you with pity and fear. It hadn’t worked, they did anyway, but there had still been control over it. Up until this moment, nobody had known why Homelander had done all those things to you. Everyone had seemed happy to chalk it up to him being a fucking psychopath, not anything deeper. Certainly not attempting to create a small army of additional Ryan Butchers. Small things were still yours, flashes of hunger and warped sounds remaining in your head, but everything else you had just told him.

Why did you do that? A voice hissed as the high from your petulance faded. Why did you let him win? Why did you give him a weapon to use that could hurt you?

But looking at him, he didn’t appear to be a portait of self-satisfaction and heartless triumph. He was staring at you, scanning you as though the scars Homelander left would be visible on your bare legs and arms. When he spoke, his voice wasn’t weak or coddling, but angry.

“He kept you locked up?”

You nod, part of you getting ready to fight him over something.

“He hurt you? To try and recreate me?” Your repeated nodding only seemed to inflate whatever was happening. “Did it hurt?”

Your arms and face started at that, an uncertain feeling spreading through you. There had been no reverent tone as Soldier Boy had asked the last question, no sadistic for affirmation. But you didn’t know what he wanted to hear. Why he even wanted to know. But an involuntarily honest answer escaped you. “Yes.”

He stared at you for another second before he opened his mouth, only to close it without making any sound. Abruptly, he whipped around and began to leave, giving you only one more indecipherable look as he closed the door behind him, leaving you on the edge of your bed, alone in your room.

You lay down slowly, half expecting him to storm back in at any moment, but minutes passed, quickly turning into a half hour, and your body sat at the edge of collapse once more. Soon it was unbearable, and you lay down, your racing mind being forced to a halt as sleep pulled you under.

Your sleep, as had been the case for a while now, was haunted by nightmares of blue eyes and yellow, fluorescent lights. You woke up in a cold sweat, and took a long, needlessly warm shower before forcing yourself to leave your room around 9:30. Despite your lingering fatigue, no part of you wasn’t restless as you walked down the stairs. Your body tense and ready to run, your head spinning with hypotheticals and lining up words you may need—that feeling under your skin creeping up your spine and fluttering in your gut. But Soldier Boy wasn’t in the living room or the hall. You poked your head in the dining room, hoping to avoid the minefield of the kitchen, but it was empty, the plastic chandelier lights off, the table occupied only by a vase of wilted flowers. You moved to the kitchen, ringing growing in your ears, but he wasn’t there. You turned to walk away, continue your search, but double-back as it hit you.

Nothing was in the kitchen. It was empty. Of Soldier Boy, and of the groceries MM said would be delivered.

You wandered in slowly, watching the counters as if they might start to glitch and flicker, revealing hidden produce and dirty dishes. But, leaning over the sink, there was a single plate, soaking in water that was dotted with crumbs. Slowly, you moved to the refrigerator, slowly opening it as you glanced around the room. Your eyes widened at the sight inside. Milk, drinks, and produce had been placed inside, disorganized and haphazardly. There was a jar of mayonnaise in the fresh drawer, along with a box of pasta on a side shelf, but the fridge was full. You moved quickly to the pantry, which had been sorted in a similar fashion, but filled. And when you opened the last cabinet, you saw a piece of paper stuck under a jar of peanut butter.

I know I did a shit job. Clean up if it bothers you, but don't bitch to me about it. And tell Mallory to get smooth peanut butter next time, or I’m not doing anything for her but killing Homelander - Ben

[satansbiggestkinnie]

𝐒𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐩 ꒰NSFW + FLUFF꒱

Author's note: I'll make the side characters as soon as possible. I sometimes like to update this and the period headcanons. Also,GENDER NEUTRAL READER SUPREMACY !1!1!1!1!1

WARINGS!: SEXUAL CONTENT,RIDING (Lucifer),THIGH RIDING (Mammon),BOTTOM MC(Mammon,Lucifer),TOP MC (Levi,Mammon,Asmo),ANGRY/ROUGH SEX (Satan),DEGRADATION BUT ALSO PRAISE (Lucifer),DIRYY TALK (Mammon),DEGRADATION (MC to Leviathan) ,GRINDING,POWER BOTTOM ASMO

Featuring: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬

Tags: Fluff,Lime,and Smut

Word count: 1889

─────── ꒰ ✿ ꒱ ───────

Lucifer:

✿- Bit startled by you and your courage,but he's beyond delighted.

• Plays music while you sit on his lap,you might even drink tea with him. If you're not clumsy.

• You also help him with paperwork. You'll probably fall asleep (force him to sleep,MC! You got this!!!).

• Strokes you hair,and kisses your neck from the back,he might distract.

• Speaking of distracting people,if he takes a quick breath from paperwork (like blinking and signing),it might be longer than usual,he has a stunning human right on him.

• Thinks you're the absolute cutest when you throw your arms on his shoulders• His hot breath makes it all the more calmer and relaxing there

• Might rest his chin on your shoulders.

• Grabs your hip with his spare hand and squeezes it softly.

• Cute lil neck kisses.

• "Hey,Luci,I finished this..." he realises he's been staring at you. "Have you been staring at me?" You giggled and kissed his cheek.

❦- Now, on a more unholy note (ya'll need christ/j),he'd probably kiss your neck,not letting you make a sound.

• He'll bite your neck and whisper dirty shit in your ears.

• He'll probably suck and/or lick on your nipples.

• He also likes degradation,but also praise. "Aren't you such a little slut for my cock? But that lewd face you make for me is so cute. My little slut."

• He especially degrades when he's slamming his cock into your ass (if you're a women,your tight little cunt).

• It'll be even worse if you tease him and try to get off. He'll make you grind on him even harder.

• Make take off your clothes and make you ride him. Then keep his cock warm for him? He might give you a special treat after that.

─────── ꒰ ✿ ꒱ ───────

Mammon:

✿- This cute motherfucker was so startled when you just ploped your but on his lap.

• He panicked for a second,you decided to get off,until he stopped you. He gently grabbed your wrist. "Wait...can ya, please stay? Just for a bit? It's not like I want ya to be here! You'd be honoured to.." You didn't let him finish. You sat on his lap once more and kissed him,whispering words of affirmation into his ears.

• He buried his face into your chest,almost wanting to kiss it.

• You like to watch movies on his lap. You pepper his face with kisses while the blush on his face is more red than Lord Diavolo's hair. He hides his smile (good thing,he would put the sun to SHAME!!!).

• Gets so flustered when you turn to face him. Even more when you kiss him and put your arms around his shoulders.

• Please do this in front of his brothers. Do it for cute Mammon and his voice actor.

❦- You ride his thigh,creating friction for yourself. He makes you beg for his cock. "Ple-please Ma-mm. Ngh!" He'll deny you his cock.

• He just loves how he makes you squirm in his lap,it makes his ego even bigger than it already is.

• "Oi...getting so worked up over the great Mammon. I haven't even touched ya." And even more dirty talk.

• You make him so wet when you kiss him so roughly and get on top of him in bed,grinding on him in an even rougher manner then when you were on his lap. He thinks it's so hot.

─────── ꒰ ✿ ꒱ ───────

Leviathan:

• You had been spending your day with the other brothers. They had so many things to do. Shopping with Asmo,gambling with Mammon,reading with Satan,and helping Lucifer. And sleeping with Belphie didn't help you at all. Meanwhile,Levi was gaming alone again. You were supposed to be gaming with him. You weren't giving him enough attention. So you came to Levi,exhausted. You sat next to him.

• "Hey,Levi..." he didn't answer,he looked annoyed. You cuddled up to him. He blushed,but he attempted to look irritated. Despite the fact you were way too tired,you decided to ask him what's wrong,being the loving partner you are. "Levi...? What's wrong?" Apparently he was giving you the silent treatment. "Levi. Give me attention." You sleepily protested. "I want to hug you. Please give me kisses." He opened his mouth. "Really? I'm surprised you don't want kisses from Mammon." Despite the fact he sounded annoyed and mad,you could hear a tinge of sadness in his voice. "What?" Before he could talk,you sat on his lap and kissed him. "You're my boyfriend. I love ..LEVI???"

• Levi faints.

• He barely heard your last words before going unconscious.

• Ugh,he's so baby girl.

• But,once he regains consciousness,he's so flustered. Poor baby doesn't know what to do!

• He hugs you and buries his face into your chest.

• ANIME,GAMING,ANIME,LOOKING AT HENRY 2.0

• He "accidentally" wrapped his tail around you.

• He's so happy when you're laying your head on his chest while you two watch anime or game,and when he wraps his tail around you,he's as close to you as he possibly could be. He's been to heaven,but by god,this so much better.

• Levi is getting the love he deserves, but if MC is overly affectionate and giving him all the hugs and kisses in a different way,weeeeeel

❦-"M-MC..." his controller is on the floor. "Shh,love." You decided to tease him by grinding against his cock. "M-MC! F-fuck! Please!" He wrapped his tail around you.

• You shushed. You lightly degraded him. "Yucky otaku. Don't talk when I don't tell you to." You took off his shirt and licked his nipples. "Beg for it." "M-MC! N- ngh!" "Use your words." To be continued :D

─────── ꒰ ✿ ꒱ ───────

Satan:

• Satan was reading a book,as usual,and you wanted attention,so you brought in hot cocoa for him after taking a sip of yours. You handed it to him and held yours. "Thank you,de..." Then you plopped yourself on his lap and layed your head on his chest,and put your hand on his chest.

• He questioned your actions,being the logical person he is. You explained that you thought his lap looked comfy. He chuckled for a moment,then went back to reading. With a smile on his face.

• He makes sure you're as close to him as possible. He pulls you to him. If questioned,he will say,"I want you to be warm and comfortable,love.

• Satan also wraps his tail around you. But he tries to be careful since his tail is basically armour. But occasionally,his tail might brush against your face.

• Kisses your head.

• Loves it when you read together on his lap. He feels like a true gentleman.

❦- Alright,onto nsfw. If he feels like teasing you,he might try to overestimulate,he might tease you and force you to read out loud while he has his dick in your ass (or cunt). He might even get on top of you and slam and pound himself into you.

• Rough sex real with Satan real.

• He leaves scratches on you and cherishes the scratches that you made.

─────── ꒰ ✿ ꒱ ───────

Asmodeus:

• While he is the sin of Lust,he loves romantic things! Haha,trick statement,you should've known that.

• But moving on from my pet peeve of people making Asmo horny and only horny,he is absolutely delighted!

• Honestly,you're both surprised you weren't in his lap sooner.

• He playfully asks you what you're planning,but he's very much enjoying himself.

• He wraps his arms around your waist cause he wants to hug your back.

• If you like makeup,he puts it on you while you're facing him. He would like you to put makeup on him,even if you aren't good.

• Will leave lipstick marks on your face and more.

• Honestly, everywhere. Lips,cheeks,hands,chest,don't you dare make a foot joke.

• Will play with your hair.

❦- He has a long tongue,and he will use it. Your nipples will he wet,and so will your sex.

• Likes it if you push yourself on top of him,while being the power bottom he is.

• Either praise him or degrade him,he just wants your lustful touch.

• "MC,hun... please touch me. I'm all yours."

─────── ꒰ ✿ ꒱ ───────

Beelzebub:

• You had just brought him food,a burger. But while you were giving it to him,you noticed your lap. It was so big and empty... better to snatch it before anyone else does!

• He thanks you,and as soon as you sit in his lap,his arms instinctly hug your waist. He makes sure to hug you tightly. He can't lose another person. Don't die.

• God,I love him.

• Feeds you food. He tries his best not to leave crumbs on you.

• You have whole-ass picnics on his lap. No,actually,you sat on his lap when you two were having a picnic. Probably with the brothers.

• Keeps you warm.

• He rocks you on his lap.

• Face him and kiss him,please.

❦- I headcanon Beel as asexual,and I think it would take a bit more to rile him up. So,I think you would have to praise him a bit and maybe tell him you want to sleep with him.

• He blushes and kisses you,using his tongue to explore every part of your mouth. He'll lick and suck your nipples.

• He'll grind onto your sex.

• Three words: soft dom Beel.

─────── ꒰ ✿ ꒱ ───────

Belphegor:

• "MC." He lazily called your name out. "Come here." You knew he was going to pull you in for cuddling,so decided to help him. You sat on his lap. He paused for a moment,not speaking. Then, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. His sleeves were covering most of his hands,so it was a cute sight. "More. This is nice." His lazy way of saying,"Do this more."

• He'll find a way to sleep,he always does.

• Takes a nap on your shoulder

• He loves it when you lay your head on his chest or his shoulders.

• HUG THE PLUSHIES WHILE YOUR SITTING ON HIS LAP!!! Those plushies are basically your children. He will use that against his brothers.

• "Well,we have children,so...haha losers."

• Draws and/or sews with you if you'd like that.

• Nuzzles his face into your neck.

• This is just a new type of cuddling for him, to be honest.

• Once eat chocolate chip muffins with you on his lap.

❦- He tells you to be even louder to make sure everyone hears who's human you are.

• Kisses and sucks the sweet spot on your neck,leaving marks.

• He doesn't let your orgasm release until he says so,if you release before he tells you,then there might be a punishment.

• He's more than happy when you ride him

─────── ꒰ ✿ ꒱ ───────

[demonvibez]

Showering with Lucifer

·Characters: Lucifer x GN! Reader

·Word Count: 1100+

·Rating: Mature/Explicit (Minors DNI)

·Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Smut

·Tags: domestic fluff, mentions of reader being sick, gender neutral body parts, oral sex, penetration, mentions of fangs and marking

·A/N: was gonna write this for all seven demon bros but I got carried away with Lucifer's part! Lemme know which brother/dateable you'd like to see in this scenario next ♡

Typically, Lucifer prefers to use the shower over taking a bath

Most of the time, he gets down to business in the shower; no time to dawdle about with distractions, he has a schedule to adhere to, titles to maintain and a House to oversee.

Very thorough, he has his showers down to a 5 minute routine in a very methodical order

He has always used the same set of products he enjoys, originally a gift - a Dragon's Blood bath set given randomly by Lord Diavolo; it works for him and he thinks it smells nice, so why mess with perfection? 

However, things started changing the closer your relationship with him grew

At first he didn't really care to shower with you because he often didn't have the time and thought it would be more efficient to shower separately

One evening you find yourself feeling rather sick, which prompts Lucifer to insist on looking after you in his room, despite you already being comfortably curled up in your own bed

"If anyone is capable of bringing you back to health, it's me," he said with his arms crossed, his usual air of arrogance lingering around his words

He gathers up a few of your things and put them in the empty backpack hung on the back of your closet door, before slinging it over his shoulder and scooping you up in his arms

Of course he could keep a better eye on your condition in his room, safely tucked into his silky soft bed sheets

As he watches over you, shock and concern paints his features as he notices that your condition continues to get worse

You're running a fever that needs to be broken, so he draws you a bath and tends to you personally 

Sat behind you in the tub as he leans you against his bare chest, he gently washes your hair with his shampoo, making sure to be careful as he rinses everything out, softly running his gloveless fingers through the strands

His gentleness to you while you're in such a vulnerable state brings the two of you even closer together than before, emboldened with a new sense of trust and familiarity 

After that, you find yourselves becoming increasingly inseparable, which naturally results in you sleeping in his bed and using his shower quite often

Several of your favorite bath products now line the walls of his shower

Some random weekend mornings his hair will smell like your conditioner, and it will give him the most smug of grins for the entirety of the day

He's even more smug and prideful when you are the one wearing his scent, though

He usually tries to stay on task when you shower together, making sure you're both completely clean from head to toe

There are many nights, however, in which he finds himself unable to reign in his urges - to hell with paperwork, he'd rather lose himself in you right now

He lathers his body gel down your body, his hands caressing each of your curves slowly yet firmly as he further commits them to his memory, watching as the water cascades down your body to rinse the suds away

His lips trail soft kisses down your jaw, his fangs lightly nipping at your neck as he hungrily makes his way down to your collarbone, a mark or two of his slowly blooming across the surface of your skin

He continues his way down your body, briefly stopping to swirl one of your sensitive nipples around his eager tongue, before continuing down to truly taste you

He throws one of your legs over his shoulder, holding you up as he helps himself - lapping and sucking away at your sex, pushing you closer to your first orgasm with each deliberate stroke

Your hands can't help but to slide to his crown, gripping onto his horns in order to keep you grounded in reality as you try your best to keep your eyes locked on his

His crimson eyes gaze up at you as he worships every inch of you, and every drop of your sweet nectar on his lips fills him with a sense of pride that only your pleasure can bring, both of you riding those feelings into the stratosphere 

After bringing you to climax, he pushes your leg down and slides up your body, hooking and holding your leg around his waist as he uses his other hand to line himself up with you

He slowly begins to push himself inside of you, strained groans splashing off the walls with the shower's rain as he gradually slides himself deeper 

You feel so good around him that he can't help it when his wings unfurl the moment he finally sinks all the way into you, the last thread of control he had finally unraveling 

He sets a slow and steady pace as he pours every ounce of passion into each individual thrust, his hand gripping your thigh as his thrusts slowly start to pick up in pace

And every thrust fills you with more and more pleasure, building up inside of you, the crescendo threatening to erupt at any moment as your eyes roll into the back of your head - you hear him whisper your name

"Look into my eyes…" he said in a husky tone as he put a hand on your sex and overstimulates it as he continues to thrust into you, his rhythm growing erratic as he pushes you both over the edge into pure bliss

He locks his lips to yours as you both ride that high, wanting to make the moment last as long as possible

Even as you try to gently pull away from him, he whispers, "just a moment longer, my love," as he slides his hold around you just a bit tighter, a small laugh escaping your lips before you steal another kiss from him

As you wrap up your shower together, he helps rinse you off one more time, before offering a hand to help you out of the shower and wrapping you in a warm, fluffy towel

He dresses you in one of his bathrobes before setting off to grab you a set of pajamas, trying his best to hide his smirk when he returns with one of his own shirts and a half assed excuse - you knew you had an extra set in his bottom drawer, but you didn't even hesitate to grab his shirt and throw it on

Once you finish your routine, you both crawl into his bed

You find yourself in your natural place, snuggled up to his chest with his arms wrapped around you

As you both begin to drift off into slumber together, he presses a kiss to the top of your head

"I love you so much," he whispers, "sweet dreams, my little lamb."

And with his final thoughts of the night, he can't help but to think how much better you make even the tiniest aspects of his life, a smile on his face as sleep finally takes him

- demonvibez ♡ - likes/reblogs appreciated - do not repost! -

[cheapshrimpysheep]

You... Cheater? - Side Characters

SUMMARY: They saw you making out with some random demon. But only after talking to you will they find out that it wasn't you after all. It was a demon impersonating you. But how did they feel before realizing this and how did they react to the relief that it wasn't really you they saw?

(This takes place before the events of Nightbringer.)

CHARACTERS: Side Characters (Diavolo; Barbatos; Simeon & Solomon)

TAGS: Fluf; GN Reader; Comfort; Kiss, Tears, a little Angst (I think)

WORD COUNT: An average of 540 words per character.

👉 You… Cheater? - Demon Brothers

COMMENTS: I was looking for prompts and saw something like “cheating” or “How would they react to being cheated on?” But I don't like cheaters, this would be to sad. However, they thinking they were cheated on, but in fact they were deceived and you comfort them, that looked like a better option to me.

I hope you enjoy ;)

P.S.: I wrote Solomon's part after Lesson 17 of Nightbringer

CONTEXT: He was walking the streets of Devildom and he saw you! Or at least someone he thought was you. The appearance was exactly like yours! And you were making out with some random lower demon, that was unmistakable. That he could see clearly without a doubt.

(This takes place before the events of Nightbringer.)

It's not normal for Diavolo to walk around alone. Barbatos would not allow that. That's why he escaped him and used a spell to disguise himself. When he sees “you”, he's more confused than shocked. But can't help but feel a sinking in his heart. He didn't feel the effect of a control spell, one who had forced you to do that. Which means that person was doing it of their own free will. And maybe that's why he didn't notice the shapeshifting spell.

He will not interrupt “you”, that would be impolite. But he still thinks something is wrong. He goes back to the Demon Lord's Castle and orders Barbatos to invite you to meet him. His butler didn't question and didn't dare scold him about shirking his duties for a walk, because Diavolo had his rare serious expression.

When you arrive, Barbatos leads you to the Garden, where diavolo is sitting in front of a table with tea and cookies. You assume it's just a little date, since you don't know what he saw. Barbatos pulls out the another chair for you to sit in while Diavolo greets you with a smile, and then he leaves the two of you alone, saying if you need anything just say the word.

He asks you how are you and how was your day. You say it was a pleasant, peaceful day. You spent the afternoon in Purgatory Hall, learning some recipes from Simeon and Luke and teaching them some recipes from your home. You guys did so many things that you even took the opportunity to bring some sweets for Diavolo and Barbatos.

He stares in amazement at your innocent smile and the box you hand him. “Have you been with them all afternoon?” He asks “You never went out to buy ingredients or something like that?” You find those questions a little strange, but answer honestly, that you went out with them at a time to buy some ingredients. “Did you ever leave their side?” No. Why? What's going on?

He laughs out loud in relief. He apologizes to you for making you so confused and tells you what he saw. He had invited you to talk about it and your relationship, but it seems that it was all a misunderstanding after all. And he's so relieved he can't even hide it well.

You are shocked by what he told you. And you tell him that you would never do such a thing, you'll never make out with a random person in the street. And that you love him. He brings his chair closer to yours, puts an arm around you and kisses your cheek passionately. “I know my love. I know very well the person I fell in love with. That's why I thought it was strange and I needed to see you and talk to you.”

What he doesn't tell you is that he's going to find the demons responsible for that and punish them. He is generally peaceful, but such disrespect cannot go unpunished.

Barbatos was probably doing some errands for Diavolo. When he sees “you”, he just freezes in shock. He tries to understand if you are bewitched, but you don't feel any control spell that forced you to do that. And somehow also misses the shapeshifting spell. But that doesn't stop him from thinking something was wrong.

He ends up just withdrawing to finish his task and return to the Demon Lord's Castle. Once in the palace, he asks Lord Diavolo for permission to meet with you, as there was a matter he needed to discuss with you. He gives him permission and Barbatos goes to the House of Lamentation.

Nothing seems strange, except maybe for Lucifer, which is the one that knows the behaviour of Barbatos best. He arrived as if nothing was wrong, asking if you were home and if he could speak to you. You were with the brothers in the room and he asked to speak with you alone. You ended up going to your room.

“I'm sorry for showing up so unannounced, but I'd like to discuss a subject that I just came across today.” he says and pauses to see your reaction, which is just a questioning one. “I ended up coming across you and that demon today on the street. I just wanted to clarify what happened.”

But you have no idea what he's talking about. He didn't seem to be talking about any of the brothers. “So would you mind tell me where you were this afternoon?” You were with Solomon. You had a sorcery lesson with him today. You spent most of the afternoon with him in Purgatory Hall. “Do you mind if I ask him if he confirms that?” You feel a little bad that he doesn't trust you, but you say you don't mind and he calls Solomon.

When the call ends and Barbatos hangs up, you see his shoulders relax. And you hear a little sigh. “I apologize profusely. My behaviour conveyed the idea that I don't trust you, but that's not the truth. I just...” he tries to find the right words but to no avail. “No, there is no excuse for my distrust. I’m sorry.” and then he tells you what he saw.

You look as shocked as when he saw “you”. “So I can assume that who I saw was someone pretending to be you.” He smiles at you “You have no need to worry about it, my dear. I will find those responsible for this and give them the most suitable punishment.” He was smiling, but the aura around him was frightening. This was the smile that even Diavolo and Lucifer feared.

Despite this you try to calm him down a little. He smiles at you, a genuine smile and softly kisses your cheek. You're right, he should know better than to distrust you.

Simeon was grocery shopping for Purgatory Hall when he saw "you". He freezes, like a deer that has seen a car's lights. As an angel, he shouldn't let the anger and jealousy he's feeling get to him so much. Then all those feelings go to his hands, or rather to his fists clenched so tightly it probably left fingernail marks in the palms of his hands. If he had been holding something, a plastic cup or a can, it would have exploded in his hand for sure.

He doesn't feel that “you” are in danger, that “you” were forced to do that. So he doesn't even approach “you”. He can't. He has to get out of there! What he’s feeling are very strong and bad feelings, which he cannot let consume him under any circumstances.

He goes back to Purgatory Hall and packs up the groceries. If someone crosses paths with him before he can go to his room, he'll pretend that everything is fine, but that he's a little tired. Luke, Solomon and even Raphael will let him be. Not because they believe it, but because they can perceive an almost frightening aura coming from him.

Love is like a pendulum, just as it swings to one side that lights up your soul, it can also swing to the side that shatters it with the exact same intensity. How could you do that to him? No! He can't blame you. These are his feelings, he is the one that has to deal with them. But they still connected to you. And who was that demon? He would understand the Brothers, but who was that one? Should he talk to you? He has to calm down first. But yes, he needs to talk to you!

He was about to text you, asking if you could meet him at Purgatory Hall, but you were faster and sent him a message saying: “Hey. I haven’t seen you today. And Luke told me you feel a little blue. If you want to talk, I'm here for you.” Unfortunately, this was worse than if he had sent the message first. You were being your kind self, the one he felt in love with. Reading it while remembering what he say, it's just heartbreaking. But he needs to settle that matter.

“I'm glad. Actually, I would like to talk to you. Could you come to Purgatory Hall today?” You answer with an of course, and you go there. You go to his room for more privacy.

You may never find out, but he trained himself in what to say and how to say it to you. “The truth is... I ended up seeing you yesterday. On the street. With that demon.” he doesn't hide his sadness. And he expected to see an expression of surprise, realizing what he was talking about. But you were just really confused. What demon? What Street? You were at the Demon Lord's Castle the whole time yesterday. You were having tea with Diavolo because he wanted to talk to you about ideas he had for improving the exchange students program.

Because he's an angel, he can tell you're being completely sincere. So, would he have mistaken you for someone else? No, it was clearly you. Or someone impersonating you? He would solve this problem later. Perhaps with the help of Lucifer and Diavolo. But for now, he felt as if his heart had healed. The tightness he felt returned to a comforting warmth. And you can see it in his face.

He explains to you what happened and you tell him you would never do such a thing. Despite the relief, he still had a sad look on his face. You get closer to him, caress his face to bring it closer to you and kiss him on the cheek. He hugs you and touches his forehead to yours. “Can I be a little selfish and ask you to stay with me a little longer?”

Solomon was buying ingredients for his magical experiments when he saw "you". He is shocked and he just wants to separate that demon from "you". He may have given it some thought. Maybe it crossed his mind, even for a few seconds, that maybe he should leave the two of you and talk to you later about it. But he doesn't care. He takes some material from his shopping and casts a spell that sets fire to the pants of the demon that's kissing “you”. More specifically, on his butt.

The demon panics and when “you” see that and then Solomon “you” panic too. And the two run away. Which is another shock for Solomon. He didn't attack you. He wanted to talk to you. But you... ran away. You ran away from him? What... what was he supposed to do now?

You get a message from him late at night. Like VERY late at night: “You know, I really wanted to talk to you. But I didn't know how to do it. If you want to talk, I'm at... that bar I forgot the name of... you know. I am here.” You remember Asmo telling you about Solomon getting drunk in a Devildom bar. It was probably what was happening at that moment as well. You decide to meet with him, mainly to make sure he was okay. Or at least as okay as he could be.

When you arrive, he waves to you. You sit in the chair next to him instead of in front of him. He had a bottle of a drink from the human world in his hand. Half empty. “Hey. Sorry to text you so late, but I really needed to talk to you about this afternoon.” About that afternoon? What happened? “Oh, do you want to forget about that thing? Yeah, I'd really like to forget that too. I tried, as you can see, but I can't.”

But what was he talking about? What did he see? “Listen, don't do this. I just want to work things out. I mean, clarify the matter.” And you tell him you have no idea what he saw that afternoon. You were at the Demon Lord's Castle all afternoon with Barbatos. Learning how to make a tea that Lucifer really liked for the days when he was more stressed. It took most of the afternoon because it was difficult to prepare.

He almost jumps out of his chair. “Wait! Are you serious? Let me just call Barbatos for a minute.” He calls him, who confirms what you just said. “So you weren't out on the street with that demon? Then who was...? Ha... ha ha ha ha ha...” and he bursts with laughter.

You try to ask him what he's talking about, but he says it doesn't matter right now. Since you are right next to him, he hugs you, almost desperately. He's so relieved it wasn't you. He won't tell you anytime soon what he saw. Your curiosity will keep you close to him. And that's exactly what he wants.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[exrellian]

Replaced MC AU

Authors Note: the amount of support I’m getting is insane and I am so thankful! I didn’t expect my first series to blow up like this! Comment if you would like to be added to the tag list (which is something I never expected to have) and of course, enjoy part four!!

TW: none really except MC and ??? Shit talking the brothers and royals

Part 1-Part 2-Part 3-Part 4(you are here)

Someone who feels the same way

??? POV

“Chef! There is someone sleeping in the alleyway next to the restaurant!” A demon said, “if you let homeless people just sleep outside people are going to stop eating here. This is a prestigious restaurant, not a homeless shelter.” The noble demon scoffed at the other

“I will go take care of it.” The chef sighed, grabbing his coat and umbrella from his office before exiting the restaurant and checking the alley beside it. Sure enough, there lays a boy, looking to be physically around the same age as the chef, and he looks like shit

“How long do you plan on sitting in the alley? Humans get sick easily.” The demon spoke, moving his umbrella to cover the soaked boy

“You gonna eat me?” the human asked, not even moving his head up to look at the demon

“Eat you? Ew.”

“Don’t mess with me, I know how demons are.” The chef shook his head, leaning against the wall across from MC

“If I was going to eat you I would have done so already. Aren’t you the precious little exchange student? Weird to see you without one of your guard dogs.” He scoffs as he mentions the seven lords

“Please don’t bring me back there. Who knows what they will do if they found out I was causing a noble demon trouble” MC sputtered, still not making eye contact with the mystery demon

“Ew.”

“Ew?”

“Those lords are as incompetent as the young prince who rules them.” The demon replied with a roll of his eyes “I’m Lawrence by the way. Why don’t you come into the restaurant and get cleaned up, the back room should have some spare clothes since yours are… gross”

“Are you sure your boss would be okay with that?”

“My boss? No, he won’t mind” Lawrence tosses his jacket at MC, still covering both of them with the umbrella

“If you’re sheltering me with an umbrella why do I need a jacket?”

“Put the hood up, hide your face and, since I wear this jacket often it should mask your scent as a human. A lot of noble demons are dining here, if you don’t want the lords knowing you’re here you best hide.” Lawrence explains, helping MC up off the ground

“Why are you helping me? You could have killed me at least five different times now”

“Because you looked pathetic. And I can’t have homeless people outside the restaurant, it will make it look… poor”

Small time skip

MCs POV, first person

I finished getting changed after successfully sneaking in… but now what? Sure I’m all cleaned up but was it all just to go out onto the streets again? Sure I could go to Purgatory Hall but who knows if they have been manipulated by Amelia too. I need to get a job and find a place to stay, even if I just hotel jump until the end of my time here…

“The uniform looks good on you.” A voice spoke from the door behind me “ready to get working?”

“What? Your… offering me a job here? But how will I go unnoticed!? And I’m a human, so won’t the demons be inclined to avoid this place with me working here!?” I ask, shocked at the sudden declaration that he was giving me a job

“An illusion spell, I put it in the uniform before you get changed. To me and any other demon you look and smell like a demon. No one will recognize you like this.” Lawrence explained, it’s as if he was prepared for this

“Oh… well I guess that makes sense, but why offer me a job? This just doesn’t seem right, you are a demon correct? Why help a useless human this much?” I asked, not fully trusting in this random demons intentions

“You ask so many questions, it’s annoying. I just felt like it, that’s all. This is my restaurant so I can give anyone I please a job.”

“Your restaurant!? You own this place!? The lords came to eat here many times, saying this was the fanciest restaurant in the Devildom!”

“If I could ban them from coming here I would. I had to work overtime any night you all came. That gluttony demon is a real problem for any restaurant he comes to. And don’t get me started on that prideful fuck, he can rot for all I care, he had the gall to tell me I was being too conservative with the serving sizes, at my own damn restaurant” Lawrence rants on and on, it was almost comforting to find someone who hates them as much as I do now “the only tolerable one is the young lords butler, at least he seems to have a shred of respect, unlike the other eight. Not even the prince can respect other people enough to not shout everything he says like he is the most important being in the three worlds”

“You seem to really hate them, don’t you?” I chuckle a bit at his tangent, not expecting someone who looks and acts like he does to go on such a heated rant

“Hate is such a… gentle word. I loathe them, they think they are the best demons ever because one of them was born into power and the other seven used to be angels. Well that doesn’t mean shit in the long run, and they will learn that sooner or later when their little exchange program backfires and the Celestial Realm fucks over both the Devildom and the human realm by extension. If there is one thing I loathe more than the nobles here in the Devildom, it’s the celestial realm” he sighs “we have gotten off topic, do you want the job or not? I live in a two bedroom apartment above the restaurant that you may stay in until you have made enough money to get your own place out until the exchange year comes to an end. Truthfully it would be foolish of you to refuse” he was right, it would be incredibly stupid to turn down this offer.

Tag list; @t-misaki @melpomenelurks @gallantys @skei2p @terodactu @atomsminecraft @cutest-tenshi

[lovelaurs]

hi!! i really like your writing:) you followed me last night and i was So Confused because i don’t post i just repost with stupid tags HAHA if you can and your requests are open (i checked like 29 times and read the rules and im still scared im gonna mess this up and i missed something), can you write a suggestive mcd garroth and laurance little drabble? if you want a direction to go in, i really like fanfics where they fight and it turns into a suggestive bit ^_^ thanks so much aahhh!!!!!!!!!!!!

TRAINING TOGETHER

featuring : mcd garroth & laurance x gn reader synopsis : after deciding to train to be a guard, you seek the help of none other then a knight from phoenix drop. yet, after a tough training session, things begin to get a bit out of hand... tags : mature, romance, friends to lovers, sword-fighting, training, kissing, making out, suggestive word count : 2.5k | around 1.2k per character! a/n : woohoo, my first request done! this was really fun to write, so i hope you enjoy!! these two were so silly to write, i just love them so much!

MASTERLIST

GARROTH

As someone who has always dreamt of being a guard, you didn’t exactly have the schedule of one.

After sleeping in for what seemed later than normal, your eyes quickly shot open as you remembered what today was.

Shit.

Your weekly training with Garroth was this morning.

As you quickly shot up from your bed, you ran around your house putting on the first pieces of clothing you could find.

After slipping over a plain tunic along with some boots, you swung open your door, slamming it behind you as you sprinted towards the training grounds.

As you passed through the town, many of the other villagers looked at you with amusement as you exhausted yourself on the way there. They had gotten used to watching you run late to almost everything.

Ever since you were younger, you had always aimed to be a guard.

Except, with the village guards being scarce and always so busy, you were never able to train. This was the very reason that got you rejected from the training program in O’khasis.

Of course, since things have been more and more easier under Lord Aphmau’s rule, the guards have increased, and with that, so has their availability.

After seeking out a guard to help train you, the Head Guard, Garroth, gladly accepted. Even though he himself learnt his sword-fighting in O’khasis, he always mentioned that it wasn’t required to make a good guard, and that all that mattered was the strength in one’s loyalty.

Since you met him from when he arrived, he always showed himself to be loyal.

Ever since then, your hopes have been raised.

It has been weeks since you began training with him, your sword-fighting skills increasing almost tenfold since the first day.

And yet one thing has never changed.

Your tardiness.

As arrived at the training grounds, you keeled over, hands on your knees as you breathed deeply. A disapproving Garroth watched from afar, smiling at the scene.

“Yet again you're late.” He noted, leaning against the guard tower.

“Yeah,” You panted. “No shit.” 

He frowned at your response. “Watch your tone, we’re supposed to be prepping you to be a guard, remember? Guards do not speak that way.” As you finally caught your breath, you stood up straight, nodding. “Right… I’m sorry.” “Great.” Garroth pushed himself off the bricks, reaching for his sword. “Now, are you ready to begin our training that was supposed to start at sunrise?” He teased.

“Haha, very funny.” You sighed at the remark, reaching for the hilt of your sword… before finding it not there.

You frantically patted yourself down, quickly realizing that you had forgotten your sword at home.

“You know, I was waiting for you to notice.” Garroth chuckled. He motioned his head towards the guard tower. “Go grab an extra sword from the armory.” You groaned as you made your way over there, picking up a random sword. 

As you made your way back over to the training grounds, you noticed Garroth watched you with a smirk.

All you wanted was to wipe that stupid look off his face.

As you took your position, readying your sword in front of you, you let your eyes focus on the trained knight before you.

This man had been trained amongst would be Jury Of Nine members, so of course he’d be tough to beat.

It wasn’t until he counted down that you brought yourself back to the present, focusing.

As the word “go” left his mouth, he rushed towards you, unrelenting on his force.

His first contact with your sword was strong, catching you off guard. You held your stance, pushing against his blade, causing him to jump back to regain his own footing.

“Nice defense, your hold is getting stronger.” He smirked, slowly circling you like a shark staring down its prey.

As it seemed he was going to keep taunting you, never truly moving towards you, you decided to take the opportunity to take the lead.

You rushed towards him, putting all your strength into the swing of your sword as it collided with his.

He held his stance, before you both pulled back, colliding your swords once more.

It wasn’t until you shared several more blows that you started to feel sweat pooling on your forehead. This singular match has gone on longer than your usual time, so it wasn’t surprising that your muscles started to ache in response.

Out of nowhere, Garroth swung his sword with all his might, causing your own blade to go flying off towards the bushes behind you.

As you fell to the ground, the blonde stood above you, holding his sword towards your throat.

“You need to work on your grip.” He heaved, before sheathing his sword, offering his hand out to you with a smile.

That’s when you thought of something devious.

You swept your leg under his, causing him to fall on top of you with an “Oof!”.

“And you should work on your stance.” You giggled. 

Garroth adjusted himself, his hands caging you in on both sides of your shoulders. As he took notice of your current position, he paused, just looking at you in the eyes.

You couldn’t help notice just how beautiful his cerulean eyes were. You were so lost within the blue that you didn’t notice how his pupils dilated, his position above you growing stiff.

It was then that his eyes wandered down to your lips, almost watching them impatiently.

With that, you practically couldn’t stop yourself from looping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

As the two of you sat in silence, it wasn’t long before Garroth spoke.

“Can… Can I kiss you?”

A sense of wonder filled his eyes as he watched your expression switch into one of joy.

You smiled, slightly tilting your head. “Yes.” When he kissed you, it felt like all pieces of a puzzle were finally connected. With his lips locked against yours, you savored the feeling as much as possible.

He pulled back for a breath for only about five seconds before diving back to kiss you once again.

His lips hurriedly pressed against yours as if the two of you were running out of time and his goal was to taste your lips on a dying breath.

As if a knee-jerk reaction, you slowly moved your hands from around his neck to his hips, pulling his lower half closer. Garroth couldn’t help but groan at the friction.

His face was flushed, tinted pink all the way to the tips of his ears.

As you lay beneath the blushing blonde, it wasn’t long before your perfect moment was interrupted.

“Sir Garroth! Come quick! Kiki’s animals got loose and-”

The two of you whipped your heads around to see a dirtied Dante, covered in hoove marks and mud, looking at you both all flustered.

He quickly brought his hand to his face, covering his eyes. “Oh my- uh, nevermind! I’m sorry to interrupt-” He stuttered as he began to quickly rush away.

Garroth stumbled off of you, rolling over in the grass before stumbling as he went to chase after Dante “W-Wait! It’s not what it looks like!”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the guard’s reaction to being caught, catching his attention.

He turned around, puffing his cheeks. “Don’t think you’re getting away from this!” He yelled, before giving you a soft smirk. “I’ll swing by your house later this evening to continue where we left off, okay?”

And with that, he ran after the younger blue-haired knight.

Now it was your turn to flush, as your mind conjured up several images within your mind that left not much to the imagination.

And you just couldn’t wait.

LAURANCE

Who in Irene’s name suggests training in the middle of the woods?

As you made your way through the shrubbery, pushing aside all sorts of branches and leaves, you kept asking yourself if you were going the right way.

When you left the gates of Phoenix Drop earlier in the day, you felt something in your stomach twist. Perhaps it was a bad omen as to your situation now?

The training area Laurance had told you to meet at was somewhat northwest of the wall, in a clearing in which you could see the ocean.

As if such directions would be easy to follow within an overgrown forest such as this!

He had originally suggested it in an empty area so the two of you “could have no distractions”, which in hindsight, you seriously should have doubted more. That charmer of a man always had ulterior motives.

The brunette himself had gone ahead of you earlier in the day, saying he’d set up the area with equipment and some rations. 

Why the hell did you let him go ahead of you?!

As you continued to stumble over tree roots and unforeseen rocks, your eyes eventually caught sight of the ocean.

You had to be close!

You continued to trudge forward, your new boots practically covered in dirt. As you made your way into the clearing, you saw Laurance polishing his sword, his hair tied up into a small ponytail.

While you approached him, you stepped on a twig, alerting him of your presence.

“Took you long enough.” He smirked, raising his head to look at you. “For a minute I was beginning to think you stood me up.”

You scoffed, taking off your satchel and placing it next to what seemed to be the bag of rations he had brought. “Maybe I would have gotten here sooner if someone had at least made it more obvious where this “secret” area was.” 

“You do know what the word secret means, do you not?” He chuckled. “And besides, I’m sort of glad you had to stumble through the woods by yourself. I mean, just look at the state you’re in right now!” He held back a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand as he pointed at you.

You quickly looked around your clothes, seeing countless spots of dirt littered across it, before patting your head to find leaves scattered amongst your hair. You picked out as many twigs from your hair as you could before finally dusting yourself off.

You swung your head back towards his direction with a pout. “I can’t stand you.”

He smiled at the comment, before standing up with his sword in hand, throwing away the cloth he used to polish the blade beforehand.

“So, are you ready to face the all mighty, powerful Laurance?” You guffawed at the comment. “My, it seems you're even more full of yourself than usual.” You unsheathed your own blade in response.

As the two of you began to circle the area, an unspoken commencement of the training between you two, you kept distance from the brunette as you surveyed his moves.

You kept watching his stance, waiting for an opening, until out of chance his foot slipped up just slightly.

Perfect.

You lept towards him, raising your blade above your head before bringing it down with such might that even he was surprised. 

He blocked it easily, sure, but his stance was still unstable. Your first move had caused him to move his feet to re-adjust himself.

A great play indeed.

Your eyes watched as he let his feet move back.

He must have sensed your motives, as his eyes followed yours to his feet. Of course, being the trained guard he was, he wasn’t about to just let you defeat him so easily from a minor slip-up.

The Shadow Knight decided to turn the tables on you, swooping beneath your own feet, causing you to slam into the ground.

He followed you soon after, pushing his sword against yours whilst on top of you. Your eyes trailed over his body, trying to find a weak spot to escape your soon defeat.

Soon, your eyes landed on the side of his lower abdomen, and your foot instinctively kicked him, causing him to fall off to the side.

You took the chance and jumped onto him, your knee pinning down the arm in which he held his sword, with your own blade aimed at his neck.

As you straddled his waist, pinning him down by your blade, you couldn’t help but breath heavily.

“I won.” You smiled, watching as his light blue eyes never left your own. “I won!” You repeated, only this time cheering.

He smirked as you took pride in your victory. “Really? Because right now it really feels like I won.” His eyes wandered, looking you up and down.

You couldn’t help but slightly flush, realizing the position the two of you were in. “You know I can slit your throat if I wanted to, right?” “And yet you don’t seem to be doing it.” He smiled smugly. “Seems to me that you might care for little ol’ Laurance.”

You rolled your eyes as you sheathed your sword back within your scabbard. “In your dreams.” You responded, before turning to get off of the knight.

That was when he grabbed your hand, pulling you flush against him, before he rolled you both over; switching your positions.

As he towered over you on the ground, he brought his hand to your cheek, cupping it gently, before whispering your name.

Your face flushed, the color change obvious enough for Laurance to notice with a smirk. He began to lean down, closing in the proximity between the two of you.

Before simply plucking a stray leaf from your hair.

“You missed a spot.” This. Asshole.

The look of disappointment seemed to have shown as your face, as his smug grin grew even wider. “Hm? What’s wrong? You look a bit frustrated.” He teased, basking in the fruits of his actions.

You puffed your cheeks, sighing. “You know, if you’re thinking about doing something, just go ahead and do it instead of humiliating me.”

A confused look spread across his face before he smiled again, leaning closer to you. “So you do want me.”

“Shut up and kiss me already.”

It took only a moment for that to process in his brain before he swooped in and planted his lips upon yours.

Your heart fluttered as you felt Laurance battle to take the lead. His lips almost fight against yours as if you were dueling once more.

At some point, you decided to just let him win, seeing as you beat him in your duel.

That’s when he turned you over, both of you laying on your sides as his hands flew to grip your hips. The action caused you to let out a gasp on Laurance's lips, which he took as an opportunity to let his tongue explore. His knee popped up in response, placing itself between your thighs.

You felt like you were going to die. From the way he kissed you, to the grip he had on your hips, and the friction he was causing between your legs? Oh my Irene, it was incredible.

As he pulled back to take a breath, you suddenly realized the two of you were outside… anyone could see you.

But your worries were quickly assuaged as you realized… This place was secret after all.

@lovelaurs, 2024. do not repost this work in any way!

[tiredfox64]

Hide and peek part 2? Pretty please?? 🥺 (btw I really love your writing style it's so unique)

Tag, You’re Mine

Prior notes: Sorry for not posting yesterday. I died because of the heat, got to talk with the Lord finally, and then he sent me back down because it wasn’t my time yet.

Pairing: Bi-Han x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: Some days I am forced to eat food with no seasoning. That’s not a warning it’s just sad.

Oh what’s wrong? Nothing to look at today? Not at all? Is it because Bi-Han caught you? I see. Well, my dear, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. You are one of many who would do whatever to get a peek at that gorgeous, icey man. Don’t give up on the game now. He’s willing to play.

You were embarrassed that you were caught sneaking peeks at Bi-Han before. Things would have been fine if he hadn’t found you and forced you to speak. You were content with keeping your fantasies about him in your head and not make them a reality. It would have been easier than going up to him and talking. He didn’t seem like a man who did much talking.

Just because you were caught didn’t mean you would stay away from the Fire Temple forever. You still wanted to see Liu Kang. But instead of hiding and seeking, you were running away from the one you used to seek. See you pulled a sneaky on him.

Now it was Bi-Han who was looking for you. At first he thought you would still be looking at him from a distance. He would look around, acting like he doesn’t care and pretending he isn’t looking for you, only to see that you were nowhere in sight. Not a strand of your hair or the rustling of leaves to indicate you were anywhere near. That was disappointing to him. His not so secret admirer was not admiring him.

“Looking for your admirer, brother?” Kuai Liang teased his older brother. When else would he get a chance like this.

Bi-Han groaned before at his brother’s teasing, “I am not. What is taking Liu Kang so long? How long are we expected to linger?”

He tried changing the topic away from the fact that he was looking for you. He paced around while occasionally looking in the direction of your usual hiding spots. Still nothing. He was getting impatient with you. This is unlike you. He wants his shy girl back!

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You were still around. You were just doing other things. Like right now you were organizing books inside the temple. You actually found some that you would like to read some day. But first to organize them.

Put some in that corner. Maybe some on the lower shelf. Oh this one is supposed to go on the top shelf. Just reach up and—OH MY FUCKING GOSH HE’S BACK!

Yes, when you looked up to try to put the last book on the top shelf you realized Bi-Han snuck up behind you again. He was looking down at you with that usual grumpy expression he had. And just like the last time he snuck up behind you, you let out a yelp which alerted everyone that once again he found you.

“Stop yelling!” He growled as his hands covered his ears.

“I’m sorry…” You whispered as you started to covered your face with the book.

Yup, that’s you all right. Shy as can be, unable to face Bi-Han still. Your cheeks were burning as you were unsure of what to do now. You tried to shuffle your way out but he caged you in. Your back was pressed up against the bookcase. His arms were at your side. You really have no escape unless you wanna try smacking him. I wouldn’t recommend it.

“Put that book down and look at me.” He commanded.

You slid the book down a little to show your eyes. No, no, he wants to see your whole face.

Bi-Han yanked the book out of your hands and placed it on the top shelf. There, now he can see you. He watched as your eyes shifted around. You wanted to look some place else but Bi-Han would always be at the corner of your eye. And looking forward won’t help either. Staring at people’s chests is rude.

“So…you need anything?” You asked because you legit didn’t know why he was here or what he wanted.

“Where have you been? You are clearly still around yet you purposely try to avoid me.”

He always sounds upset but this time he seemed really upset. He didn’t hate that you had a crush on him. It was cute and the shyness was a somewhat bonus. It’s not a bonus when he has a hard time trying to make you talk.

“You wanted me to come looking for you? That’s strange.” Clearly you were confused.

“Ironic that those words are coming from the woman who was constantly looking at me from a distance.” Oh he called you out.

So what now? He found you. How will this play out? Well, you really didn’t think this far ahead. I’m not even sure Bi-Han did either. You were too embarrassed to ever encounter him again. Knowing he knew you were looking at him the whole time makes you smack your forehead constantly. It was so humiliating! But you did like that you got to see his features up close. Those cheek bones oooo.

Hey! Hey! Focus on the game plan!

“Why do you even want me to come looking for you?”

You stumped him with that question. He didn’t think you would be brave enough to do that. He had no answer ready because he doesn’t know the answer to that.

The truth is he did find you and your actions to be cute. Might also be the fact that he doesn’t come across many ladies in his life nor will he give them the time of day. So in a strange way you are a little brave for pursuing him in your own way.

“I don’t need to explain myself to you. Just come with me.”

Bi-Han grabbed your wrist and started dragging you with him. Your mind goes blank as you’re unsure of what he wants you to do. He takes you into the other part of the temple where his brothers and Liu Kang are. They were waiting for him to come around so they could discuss the next mission. Liu Kang looked with great curiosity at the actions that were taking place. Bi-Han left you at the doorway and walked over to his brothers. He stared at you, waiting for you to do what you do best. Hide.

Due to habits and your nervousness you started hiding yourself near the doorway, peeking your head in so you could keep looking at Bi-Han. It was like rolling a blunt you never forget how to do it.

Now he was satisfied. He started looking at Liu Kang now, waiting impatiently for the god to talk. The god was too stunned to speak. A few blinks and now he started briefing them on the mission. Tomas leaned over to Kuai Liang to whisper something.

“That poor girl, Bi-Han won’t ever let her go now.”

“Pay attention!” Bi-Han yelled before punching Tomas at the back of the head.

You’re reminded of why you hid from him in the first place. It was his temper and cold demeanor that scared you off but not enough to be at a distance. Yet as you watched him punch his adopted brother you still can’t help but be drawn to that sexy man.

That’s exactly what he wants. He wants your admiration while also having the chance to get close to you. He likes having you as his admirer. He’ll keep you around for a while. Maybe even bring you back to the Lin Kuei Temple so you can do the same over there while he trains his clan. That will surely get you excited.

Do you think you can handle the cold?

After notes: Wish me luck since I have my asl final tonight. And if somehow y’all hated this don’t curse me tonight ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡. Also how come i didn’t know there was a Goth/Rave color palette that is perfect for me. Alright I must mentally prepare myself. Adiós!

[surielstea]

Sunshine in the Shade

Based on this request

Pairing: Azriel x DayCourt! Reader

Summary: Reader can't stay in the night court for long when she's bound to day. Azriel and her have to share a goodbye.

Warnings: minimal angst but mostly fluff

A/N: sorry this took me so long to get out, I was struggling figuring out the concept of the original req, I'm still not very happy with it but I hope you guys enjoy nonetheless :) p.s I had to repost cuz my tags weren’t working, sorry if you were notified twice lol.

2.9k words

"That's a lie!" I throw a piece of popcorn at a giggling Morrigan. "Nuh-uh," She shakes her head with a big grin. "I'm The Morrigan I only speak the truth," She shrugs and I roll my eyes, clutching my bowl of popcorn to my chest as she claims 'I'm the prettiest girl she's ever seen'.

"Shut up," I scoff as she wraps her arms around my shoulders and hugs me close. "I mean it," She croons. "Azriel's a lucky male, don't you think Fey?" Her arms slip from around me as she turns to look at the High Lady. "She gets it from her Father," Feyre intoned with a mouthful of chocolate cake and I rolled my eyes at the mention of the High Lord of the Day Court.

It was late in the afternoon, so late that it'd be night soon. I shake my head, trying not to think about when the moon meets the stars. I stifle a sigh and lean on the railing of the roof atop one of Rhysand's many estates, staring out at the three males who were flying around each other like boys again.

When I was seven, my father was an apprentice for spell cleaving. He had been practicing warding spells when I had come into the room with a bright grin on my face excited to show him my new drawing. In a moment of distraction, his spell had shot straight into my heart, the effects irreversible. We hadn't found out the full extent of the spell until we had been traveling to different courts for meetings and as soon as the sun slipped from the sky and night began to rule, my heart stopped beating and I was hospitalized for weeks.

So I was only allowed to leave during the day, as long as I came back right before sunrise. A rule that made it impossibly challenging to see my mate, who happened to be darkness incarnate.

I take a sip of my wine as I watch Azriel soar with his brothers, a rare smile on his face that makes adoration bloom in my chest. "That boy loves you," Amren hums from beside me and I roll my eyes, tearing them away from my mate to look over at her. "No shit," I scoff and a snarky smile curves her lips. "No, he loves you," She murmurs, eyes on the three boys as they laugh amongst each other. "I've never seen him so happy in all the years I've been around him, don't ruin that," She looks at me and it's as if she can see straight through me to my bare soul, past the flesh and bone and to my inner core that held the truest version of me. "What do you—" I begin but I'm cut off by a gust of wind as a figure lands on the railing that I leaned on. "Fly with me," A familiar voice says as Azriel bends down and cups my face in his hands, forcing me to look up at him. "You won't pretend to drop me like last time?" I narrow my eyes on him, forgetting about Amrens words now that he was here, cradling my face. "Nope," He bites at his bottom lip like he always does when he lies to me. "I know you're lying," I sing and he grumbles a curse, leaning in and pressing a kiss to my lips. "Ok, promise I won't." He smushes my cheeks together. I can't help but put every ounce of my trust in him and believe what he says. I nod and he doesn't need any further consent than that.

He swoops me up into his arms and with a few beats of his wings, we were soaring up into the blue sky. I tighten my hold around him with a small squeal. I had a horrible fear of heights, it was foolish to be terrified of a few hundred feet in the air when literal monsters were walking amongst Prythian but it's something that's always affected me. With Azriel, though it was different, he loved flying so much, and that smile on his face beat any fear I had.

"I won't drop you," He promised. "I know, but," I look down, dread filling my stomach at the long drop. We were higher than mountain peaks. He pulls me closer to him. "Hey, look at me," He said and I obeyed, eyes pinned to his. "Don't look down, keep your eyes on me," He hummed and I nodded. "Feels nice, doesn't it?" He tilts his head I swallow thickly, still thinking about the ground that was so very far away.

"Hey, look at me," He repeats with more stress on his words and so I do, I look into his eyes, at the smile on his lips, the dimples on his cheeks. I feel the summer breeze on my skin and hear the laughter of my friends still on the rooftop. "I love you," I confess, hands loosening around his neck and running them through his hair. He smiled, beaming at the words. "I love you more," He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I grin, then giggle as he dips down onto my neck, his nose tickling it. Cassian soars by with a large smile on his face. "No kissing and flying!" The Illyrian shouted over his wingbeats and Azriel's lips halted on my neck while I threw my head back in laughter, remembering the last time Azriel got too lost in kissing me and stopped flying momentarily, putting all of his attention to my lips instead. We dove for only a second before he regained consciousness. But ever since then, Azriel wasn't allowed to put his lips anywhere near mine while flying.

My head lifted back up and I looked at him with a loving smile, fingers coiled in his hair as he stared at me like I hung every star in the sky.

My breath hitched as the sun began to melt into the horizon. My smile faltered and morphed into a frown. "You've gotta go?" He asks and I nod with a pout, looking at him with saddened eyes. "The daughter of the sun can't stay in the night court for long," He murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple as he navigates us back to the rooftop, leaving Rhys and Cass.

"I'm sorry Az, I want to stay," I say. "I know, it's okay my love," He places my feet down onto solid land and even if I am afraid of heights, I'd much rather be up in the air instead of down here, signaling my exit.

"It's only for the night," He shrugs, settling down onto the railing of the rooftop though despite his reassuring words, something in his gaze told me he wouldn't be sleeping until he saw me again. "Oh, Az," I crash into him with enough force to knock us both over the railing but he doesn't falter, only embraces me back as I hug him tightly. "Why don't you come with me?" I ask and he tilts his head down at me with a frown. "You know your father will kill me," He shakes his head. "I don't care, I'm nearly four hundred years old, I can do what I want," I say. "And I want you," I cup his cheeks, analyzing his features as if I'll forget them. "Except you can't," He murmurs with a sad smile on his face, his thumb pulling slightly at my lower lip.

My shoulders slump and I wrap my arms around him yet again, nuzzling my nose into his shoulder. "Fly me back?" I asked softly into his neck. My fear of flying was outmatched by another moment with him.

"I was planning on it," He pressed kisses atop the crown of my head but neither of us backed up, just staying in that warm, comforting position until the sun got too low in the sky and I knew it was time to go.

"Bye, guys! See you in a month!" I wave to the others with a fake grin across my features. They all bid their farewells with pitying smiles on their faces. "I'll miss you," Mor tangles her arms around me, tearing me from a disgruntled Azriel. "Not as much as I'll miss you," I sing, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Well now I’m sun-kissed," She holds a hand to where my lips were and I giggle, pulling away and going back into Azriel's arms who was grumbling something about the joke being dumb, but I knew he was just jealous.

"Alright, alright, let's go," Azriel swoops me off my feet and carried me bridal style before Mor could get another word in— then took off to the skies, the cool wind nipping at my cheeks as we rose above the mountain peeks and begin navigating south, in the direction my mate's flown me countless times. "Bye Rhys!" I wave to the High Lord as we pass him. "Awe is it that time already!" Cassian whined, soaring to his brother's side with an apparent frown on his face. "I'll be back don't worry," I grin over at him. "I have no doubt you will," He sighs then turns back without another word and joins a waving Rhys.

About twenty minutes of flying later I knew the sun was too low in the sky to be excusable any longer.

"Az I gotta winnow," I say tiredly, hand cradling the side of his neck. "You have to be tired, plus you still have to fly back," I explain and he shakes his head. "I could fly you around for days." He reassured and I frowned up at him. "You know I have to leave," I huff. "I know," He nods. I lean upward and press a gentle, yearning kiss to his lips.

"No kissing and flying, remember?" He mumbles onto my lips. I smile at the recollection, pressing my mouth harder to his. "I'll see you soon, okay?" I whisper and he nods with creased brows and an aching heart.

His scarred fingers dig into my thigh, searing his touch into me in case I ever forgot it. "Don't miss me too much, yeah?" I ask and he smiles weakly before uttering, "I'll try."

"I'll see you tomorrow," I sigh. "I'll be there to pick you up," He reassured and my grin faltered, then as a silent goodbye, I pressed my lips to his, holding his face with enough delicacy you'd think he was made of glass. His lips press harder onto mine. It wasn't lustful or hungry, but it was passionate and full of pining. "Love you, Az," I whisper into his mouth, and before he can reply I winnow away, leaving his arms empty with only the weight of my absence, the bond between us wearing thin as I return back to my native court, a place that no longer felt like home when every element I had of a real home was in Night.

I had winnowed right into the dining room of the Day Palace, my plate already on my spot at the table. "You're late," My father grumbled, I tossed him a glance. He sat at the head of the table, a girl half-dressed in his lap. "Gods, seriously Dad?" I shield my eyes as I grab my plate, deciding not to eat in front of something that would easily make me lose my appetite. "In my defense, I didn't think you were coming home," He shrugs sassily and I roll my eyes at his behavior. "Yeah whatever, goodnight," I mutter, getting to the large doors leading to the hall. "Will I see you tomorrow?" He asks before I can slip out. "Probably not, Az is coming to get me in the morning," I mutter and he utters a curse. "I never see you anymore," He whines childishly, making a small smile spread across my lips. "I'm sorry but my days are promised to him," I open the door wider. "Unless you're willing to let him join us for dinner sometime?" I offer and he scoffs. "I'm not feeding someone who stole my baby girl," He grumbled. "That's what I thought," I nod. "Night, Dad!" I call before slipping out the door, closing it behind me with a soft click.

I travel down the halls of the palace made of sunstone and opalescent glass, taking bites of my food occasionally but I wasn't all that hungry since I ate with Rhysand's inner circle less than an hour ago. I breathe a deep sigh as I finally arrive at my room, entering then kicking the door shut as I make my way over to my desk, setting my plate and fork down before going over to my armoire and pulling myself out of the lightweight dress I wore, slipping into a nightgown instead as I prepared myself for bed, light still in the sky.

My sleep schedule had been all sorts of messed up, I had the sleeping habits of a five-year-old. Waking up at dawn and going to bed at dusk. It was unfair of me to have Azriel spend every waking hour with me during the day but it was the only time I got to see him, I couldn't spend nights with him, and couldn't sleep in the same bed.

I huff as I slide onto my mattress, pulling the covers up to my chin as my black-out curtains do the best they can to block out any remaining sunlight.

I rubbed my eyes tiredly and attempted sleep for at least an hour before I was finally able to drift off into a light slumber, knowing the sooner I fell asleep, the sooner I'd see my mate again.

——

I wake up to a light sound of thudding outside my window, then a drumming on the glass like someone was tapping against it. But I was on the highest point in the palace, the most protected and secured part of the entire court.

I sit up slightly panicked, but the tapping stops and I suppose it's my imagination, running my hands through my hair and blaming it on being overtired. But as soon as my head hits my pillow once more the sound returns. I spring up and crawl over to my bedside window, pulling up the blackout curtains with a confused expression.

My brows shoot to my hairline as I spot a familiar winged figure on the other side of the glass. I immediately open the window, pushing it to its highest point. "What are you doing here?" I question. "I missed you," Azriel shrugs and I facepalm. "Now scoot over, my wings won't fit with you right there," He gestures to me towards the end of the bed. "Are you insane? You're not coming in," I whisper shout and he frowns. "Why not?" He murmurs sadly. "My dad will kill you if he sees you," I grit out and he shrugs. Gods, I felt like a teenager sneaking my boyfriend in.

"C'mon sunshine," He sighs, his wings slowly flapping as to keep quiet. "We'll be gone by dawn," He reasons and I stifle a curse before moving out of the way and allowing room for him to enter. Shadows protect his wings as he pushes himself through the large window that he made look small.

As soon as he through I tackle him into a hug, pressing kisses along the side of his face. He chuckles, hand coming to the back of my neck. "Thought you didn't want me in here?" He taunts and I move away, looking down at him with a wide grin. "That was before," I shake my head, leaning down and wrapping my arms around his neck, lying atop him as if I couldn't get close enough to him. "Before what?" He scoffs. "Before you were in my bed," I reason. "But now you are and I don't ever want you leaving," I say into his shoulder and he grins brightly. "Have you slept?" I ask, twining my fingers into his hair. I feel him shake his head no and I internally sigh at his insomniac habits. "Alright, c'mon," I pull him up by the collar of his shirt, towards the pillows of my bed. He follows with a content smile, flopping down onto my mattress as I slip in beside him, pulling the blankets over us as I cuddle into his side, head on his chest, arm slung over his torso while he tucks me in close between him and his wing.

"How'd you get past the guards?" I perk up, looking at him puzzled. "I'm the spymaster, aren't I?" He smiles tiredly and I return it. "Not even the pegasuses noticed?" I say with a frown. "How are you so awake?" He asks, his hand coming to my cheek and I shrug. "I'm happy you're here," I explain and his grin widens, his scarred thumb pulling at my lower lip. "Go to sleep, I'll still be here in the morning," He reassured and I believed him.

I hadn't realized just how much I wanted this until I had it. His arms around me, shadows settling over us. We've cuddled before, on couches or daybeds, but nothing like this, not with the intention of sleeping. There was something so intimate about it, how he trusted me enough to fully fall out of consciousness with his arms wrapped around me.

I smile, a warm fuzzy feeling blooming in my chest. I lean up and peck beneath his jaw. "Goodnight, Az," I murmur. "Night sunshine," He softly replies and that was all I needed to hear before I faded into that familiar embrace of sleep.

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[fairysluna]

what should've been.

Aegon has always been in love with his loyal childhood companion, so when King Viserys proposed a betrothal between them, he's absolutely blissful with the idea, although his happiness wouldn't last long.

MASTERLIST | Epilogue

PAIRING — Aegon II Targaryen x Arryn!Reader.

TAGS/TW — friends to lovers, fluff, angst, death by illness, grief, cursing, teenage!aegon at the beginning, mentions of infertility, 'i hate everyone but you' trope.

AUTHOR'S NOTE — (2nd repost) small context, Aegon was named heir and reader is daughter of Lord Arryn who in this story is Maester of Law in the Small Council. this was a request, and ngl i loved this even tho it broke my heart... pls enjoy!!🤍

WORD COUNT — 7.6k

FEEDBACK, SHARES AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!!

Aegon's head was on her lap. 

The girl was leaning back on the Weirwood tree while Aegon was listening to her reading. The book on her hand was about the Andals, and she looked genuinely interested in the lecture while Aegon couldn’t help but to follow the movement her lips did with every word she pronounced. It was hypnotizing, as if they were begging to be kissed by him.

While one of her hands was holding the old book, the other one was on his hair, stroking the strands of it with such delicacy and care that Aegon would have fallen asleep right there, but he forced his eyes to be open only to stare at her, and the flower that he had left in her hair a few minutes ago.

"... The Vale of Arryn is where is located the purest Andals' blood as it was the first place they reach in their arrival to Westeros, and where their invasion started-" 

"So you are a pureblood then?" Aegon asked, teasingly interrupting her lecture. "I'm a pureblood too."

"Pureblood?" She repeated, closing the book and leaving it on the side. "What are you, a wolf?"

"I'm a dragon, love." He sat up and leaned forward, getting closer to her face. “The blood of Old Valyria runs in my veins, and the blood of the Andals runs in yours, perhaps we should mix them and make beautiful pureblood children." He teased her, moving his eyebrows up and down in a suggestive manner.

Lady Arryn laughed loudly at his antics, pushing him away by putting her hand against his chest. Aegon just smiled at her reaction, being mesmerized by the sound of her laughter. Her cheeks soon started blushing thanks to his shameless comment and he enjoyed the view, loving how she would get flustered whenever he said those kinds of things. 

“I thought you did not wish for children.” She remembered him. 

“Oh, I definitely don’t.” He shook his head, “But perhaps the process of making them would allow us to have some fun.”

The girl slapped the Prince’s arm, and he dropped his mouth, offended by the gesture. 

“Aegon!” She scolded him.

“You just slapped the arm of the heir!” He jokingly said, “I can cut your hands for it.”

"Why would you say such a foolish thing?" She spoke between chuckles. 

"It's not a 'foolish thing', it's a proposal." He clarified, "You will be my wife someday, I’m telling you."

"You're too confident." She claimed, "Due to your queer family customs, you will probably get married to Helaena."

His smile vanished almost immediately. His horror face was such a sight; his eyes widened and his eyebrows frowned exaggeratedly while his upper lip curled up. It was a hilarious scene that had the Lady chuckling quietly.

"Don't speak too loud, the Gods might hear you." He warned. "You are giving them ideas to punish me."

"You should stop giving them reasons to punish you." 

"I don't do that!" He said offended. The girl stared at him with a serious semblance. Aegon smirked, "What? Does loving you so deeply be considered a sin?" 

He leaned forward once again, this time he managed to kiss her cheek. The girl looked down, trying to hide her embarrassed face. No matter how many times Aegon would make those comments towards her, no matter how many times he would kiss her not-so-far from her lips; she just could not stop reacting that way. It is as if her body was trying to publicly show her feelings towards the Prince.

“You are a fool, Aegon.” She whispered, feeling his closeness. “Now, step back before someone sees us.”

“Why?” He looked around, and then looked back at her. “There’s no one here and I’m comfortable.”

“My honor would be doubted if they see you this close to me.” She explained with a subtle smile, “Step back, now.”

“But I love admiring your beauty from this angle.” He muttered, getting closer and closer. 

“Aegon…” She pledged, feeling her heart beating faster.

“If you wouldn’t want it, you would stop me.” 

She could feel his breathing crashing against her lips, she could sense the waves of the sound of his sweet voice; she was weak, she was panting as soon as she realized that just one push would be enough to feel his lips against hers for the first time; just a tiny push, but she didn’t have the guts to do it, she was too scared.

His hand fell on her soft cheek, Aegon felt the warmth of it and smirked. Her eyes were glistening and he knew for sure that his were too. He was so close to her that he was able to smell the scent of her hair, so sweet and delicious. 

“I want to kiss you.” He said, brushing his lips against hers. 

“Do it-”

“Prince Aegon.” Said a male voice behind them, interrupting the moment abruptly. Suddenly all the magic was gone.

The Lady pushed him away once more, this time it took him by surprise making him roll over until he laid on his back against the grass. He cleared his throat and composed himself quickly before looking at Ser Criston, who was curiously staring at the both of them. The poor girl was so flustered that she could not even look the guard in the face; she looked at the book in her hands instead.

“Lady Arryn.” He greeted, “The Queen wants to see you both.”

“Both?” She repeated, scandalized. “Why?”

“I’m afraid I’m only a messenger, my Lady.” Ser Criston replied, while offering his hand to her so she could stand up without problem.

“I was going to do that!” Aegon complained, but Ser Criston ignored him. 

The both teens walked behind the guard with the white cloak in silence. Aegon would purposely brush his hand against hers only to make her smile; she would look at him with accomplice eyes in return for his silly action. 

Once they arrived at the Council Room, Queen Alicent, King Viserys and Lord Arryn were waiting for them. Ser Criston bowed swiftly before going to a corner of the room. The three adults were showing serious semblances that put the teens into distress, unsure of what they would say. 

“My King.” Lady Arryn said, bowing. “My Queen.” She repeated the action, and then she went to her father to whom she greeted with a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Why are we here?” Aegon asked.

“We have some important news we would like to share with you both.” King Viserys explained. “Please, be seated.”

They listened obediently, sitting right next to each other. Lady Arryn’s leg was jumping out of nervousness, thinking that someone might have seen all those times when Aegon tried to kiss her and she didn’t push him back, or that some maid could have started a rumor that put her honor in disgrace. She was tormenting herself with her ideas, getting more anxious by the second. Aegon noticed it, and he placed his hand over hers in order to calm her down a little. It worked.

“We all know how close you have been during your entire childhood and even now.” The King explained, “We also know that House Arryn has been loyal to our House since the days of Aegon the Conqueror, which is something I am truly grateful for.”

“We had a conversation during a Small Council meeting about your future as King.” Alicent spoke to his son, “And we have decided that it is time for you to marry with a good and decent Lady that could provide you with an heir.”

“And we have chosen you, Lady Arryn.” Viserys announced. The girl looked over the table to find her father smiling pleasantly, “Your father has just given us his blessing in this union and we are already getting the preparations for the wedding.”

“You’ll be married in a fortnight.” Said the Queen with a kind smile. “I hope this union makes you both equally happy.”

The girl could’t react at first, it felt like a dream. She has been in love with Aegon since she learned what it truly means to love someone; that thin, platinum haired boy has stolen her heart since they first met, and now she was getting married to him. To her Aegon. 

Aegon was also so thrilled about the news that an incredulous smile formed on his face as soon as he heard the news. He looked at his mother and mouthed a subtle ‘thank you’ which made her smile. He was not used to getting what he wanted. He never did, actually. But this, the fact that he would get to spend the rest of his life with the girl he was deeply in love with, was more than enough for him. 

He started to thank the Gods too for listening to his pledges, for giving him a chance to be happy. His heart was beating fast, and he didn’t know if it was because of the excitement or because he felt the eyes of his beloved on his face. He turned around and saw her softened haze and her sweet smile, it was impossible to ignore it.

“I told you.” Aegon said, “You will be my wife.”

Their wedding was beautiful. Lady Arryn wore a beautiful white gown with golden embroidery with the shape of pansies; her favorite flowers. Aegon's eyes were lost with her beauty that day, he could not believe his luck. Seeing her walking down the aisle with her father on her right arm and enormous bright smile on her face was enough for him to realize that he had everything he had ever dreamt of.

They were still too young to understand what marriage and forever truly mean, but they were excited to learn about those things together. 

Aegon could not be separated from his wife during the whole night; he could not stop kissing her in front of everyone, for she was finally his. His sneaky hands were touching her body everytime they would go and dance in the middle of the whole; Alicent would send warning stares at her oldest son,but he would just ignore them, he was way too happy to even care about what she might say about his attitude. Besides, she was already his wife. 

He forbade the bedding ceremony, claiming that the only man who deserves to see Lady Arryn naked is him. When the night arrived, she was too shy and nervous while Aegon was almost jumping with excitement. It was her first time, but not Aegon’s, and yet he felt as if he had never felt pleasure before, for there was no sensation in the world that could’ve been compared with what he felt once he saw her naked for the first time. 

He was soft and caring, touching her with such delicacy that even he surprised himself with it. She was so soft, so beautiful and mesmerizing. Aegon saw himself as the luckiest man in the entire world because he would get to spend the rest of his life contemplating the beautiful woman he has as his wife. 

Four years passed after their wedding night, and both were living through  their twentieth name-day. Their love was still present, as strong as it ever was. Aegon was still smiling as a teenage boy everytime she would enter the room, and she would still blush when he whispered unholy comments in her ear. They were living in a paradise made only for them.

However, they hadn’t been able to conceive an heir yet. 

At first, both of them were not enchanted with the idea of having a child, there was no rush either. King Viserys was still healthy, there was no war, no threats that might put their lives in danger, so they just decided to wait. Lady Arryn would drink her moontea in the mornings after spending the night together and wait until her time of the month would arrive. 

Then, she started to show herself a bit more open about it, after she met her nephews and nieces on a trip to the Eyrie. Aegon and her were married for two and a half years when she started to have desires for motherhood, but she knew that even though she felt ready, Aegon did not feel the same. The pressure of inheriting the crown was too much already, too many responsibilities that would not let him live as freely as he wants; having a child would add another duty in his long list.

“Don’t hate me for it.” Aegon begged after explaining himself to her. “All I’m asking for is a few more years. We’ve been doing fine on our own, we can keep doing it for a couple years more.”

Lady Arryn looked at him with her haze softened, caressing his cheeks with her thumb in sweet movements that would relax his body. His eyes were looking down at her with worry, scared that she might get angry at him for not giving her what she wanted; but she only nodded, accepting his deal with a subtle smile. 

“How could I ever hate you, my love?” She spoke softly. “I will wait, there’s no reason to hurry.” She shrugged, downplaying the matter. “Besides, we are both still young.”

“Are you sure you’re not mad at me?” He asked, insecureness was heard in his voice.

She cupped his chubby cheeks and brought him closer to her so she could kiss his lips in a tender way. Her lips were moving softly and slowly against his, while his hands positioned themselves on the curve of her hips.

“There is no reason to be mad, my love.” She clarified after she leaned back. “This family will also be yours. We both must be ready to start it, not just me.”

And that is what they did.

They were avoiding the constant questions of the Lords and Ladies that would grow curious by the absence of a child after three years of marriage. Aegon would not listen to those comments, but he would realize her reactions towards them; she would put on the fakest smile he had ever seen, and just shrug with a saddened look on her eyes. Even though Aegon did not worry about it, he eventually did. 

In one of their trips to the Eyrie, Aegon saw his lady wife playing with her nephews while her nieces braided her hair. Her smile was so genuine and big that made him whole. He noticed how happy she was whenever she was around those children, and then he realized that his wife has always been so attentive, kind and loving towards him, she never pushed him to do something he did not want to do, not even when she wanted it so bad. 

That is when he decided that it was time. He wanted to make her happy, to make himself worthy of her love, so he told her that he was ready. He wanted to give her a child.

However, the Gods did not seem to be so pleased with the idea, because after months of trying —and they definitely were trying—, she would not get pregnant. 

Lady Arryn was starting to lose hope, feeling guilty about the situation. She married the King’s heir in order to give him an heir, and she was miserably failing in her duty as wife. Aegon consoled her one night when he found her crying beside the bed. Her eyes were closed, she was kneeling and her hands were intertwined; she was praying to the Mother. 

“My love…” Aegon spoke up once he got into the room.

The girl looked up, her teary eyes were enough to break his heart. Her cheeks were glistening with the tears that had previously fallen down her face. Once she saw her beloved husband, she started crying loudly; he immediately kneeled beside her and hugged her tightly, comforting her in her pain.

“I’m so sorry, Aegon.” She whined in his ear. “I’ve tried, I swear it. I’ve been praying to the Mother but she refuses to listen.”

“Sh, sh.” He said while brushing her hair with his fingers. Hearing her voice so broken made him tear up too. He couldn’t handle seeing her in that way. “No need to apologize, my love. This is not your fault.”

“My womb is useless.” She said. “I haven’t been able to give you an heir. It is my duty and I couldn’t fulfill it.”

“Nonsense.” He whispered softly, cleaning the tears on her face and looking at her with a loving haze. “The Maester says we just need to keep trying.”

“He’s been saying it for months, Aegon.” Lady Arryn whined. “Nothing happens yet.”

“We just need to be patient.” Aegon tried to cheer her up. “Besides, it’s not like we are not enjoying the process, is it?”

She tried to smile, but she just couldn’t. The sorrow on her heart was too big, the thought of letting Aegon down was tortuous, heart breaking even. He had been such a loving and good husband, he deserved to be a good father too.

“I’ve failed you.” She whispered. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

“Don’t you ever say that again, y/n.” He warned. “You have never failed me. Never. Not even when I was a foolish boy.” He cupped her face and left a soft kiss on her lips. “You’ve made me the luckiest man alive, and I love you.” 

“I love you too.” She managed to say between sobs and sighs. 

“You were praying now, right?” She nodded. “This is what we are going to do; we, together, are going to pray to the Mother, we are going to pledge a little of her compassion, and we are going to try again.” He held her hands, left soft kisses in them before positioning in a prayer position. “Go on, love.”

Her shaky voice was heard around the room while she started to sing the Mother’s hymn. Aegon closed his eyes and started to pledge. He was not a full believer, he would just pretend to be praying when his mother blesses the table before eating; but now he meant it. He put his whole heart out, offering the Gods thousands of things in exchange for a child for his beloved wife. 

Six full moons later, there was still no positive outcome, and even though the Maester had given her hundreds of teas and infusions to make her more fertile, the results were the same. So Aegon decided to send her to the Vale in order to spend time with the small children of her brothers, thinking that the trip would cheer her up a bit, after so many months of not having good news. Aegon had to stay on King’s Landing in order to attend the Council Meetings, his father was starting to get older. 

Lady Arryn was away for at least a month when she decided to come back in the arms of his beloved, who would escape in Sunfyre’s back to see her at least once a week. He just couldn’t stay away from her for so long. 

When she arrived back in the Capital, Aegon ran into the main entrance with a big smile that soon faded away once he set his eyes on her. He had flown to see her a week ago, and she looked completely different from who he was looking at now. She could barely get out of the carriage by herself, and she fainted when she put her feet on the ground.

Aegon yelled in despair, asking for a Maester while he carried his wife all the way towards the room they shared. He was scared. Her face was paler, there were purple circles around her eyes and her skin was burning. He didn’t know what was going on with her, a few days ago she was just fine.

The Maester was quick enough to wake her up, but the fever was already putting signs of illness on her tired face. Aegon asked the old man a million times about the health of his wife, concerned, desperate and scared. Of course he didn’t have the answers to it yet.

“Is it a babe?” Aegon asked hurryingly. “Is she- is she finally pregnant?”

“My Prince, these are not symptoms of a healthy pregnancy.” The Maester informed, “I’m afraid I should send some letters to the Citadel in order to find out.”

“Well, then fucking do that!” He screamed in his face. “Why are you still waiting?!”

“Aegon…” A soft voice was heard, the man turned around to see his wife waking up and trying to stand up. “Aegon, my love.”

“It’s okay, I’m here.” He rushed to her side and soon grabbed her shaky hand. “What happened? Tell me, what do you feel?”

A maid walked towards her with a wet cloth and a bowl filled with cold water. Aegon grabbed those things and started to clean her face, trying to make the fever go away. 

“We stopped to eat in a canteen on the way here.” She informed him, “The food was delicious.”

“Was it?” Aegon asked with a small smile on his lips, she nodded. “How are you feeling?” He asked. 

“A bit tired.” She said, “And thirsty.”

Aegon hurried to the nightstand and grabbed a cup to fill it with fresh and cold water. He helped her drink it, lifting her chin with two of his fingers and pouring the water inside her mouth. 

“I guess we won’t be able to try for a baby tonight.” She lamented, jokingly. That made him chuckle. 

“We can do that tomorrow night, there’s no hurry.” He leaned to kiss her forehead, feeling how sweaty and hot was her skin. “You must rest now.”

“Will you stay by my side?” She asked, closing her eyes once again. 

“I will always, my love.” 

He did as promised and never left her side. He was there, on a chair by her bed the entire day and the night that followed it. The maids would try to convince him to go and eat something, they promised him that she was in good hands, but he refused. He would not leave her, not like this. 

Her father went to see her, Lord Arryn stroked her hair for a while before saying goodbye as he must travel to Essos in the name of the crown. He thought it wasn’t something serious, he thought that she would be fine within days, but Aegon knew that wasn’t the case. He knew from the beginning that something was wrong.

Alicent went to see her daughter in law, and she brought food for her son. He received it, thanked her for it, but he did not eat it. He was not hungry, he was not tired; he was worried. He had never seen anyone in that state, and something inside of him was telling him it was not normal.

The next day she woke up first. Her head was aching and her body was covered in chills making her shiver with the cold wind. Aegon’s hand was wrapped around hers, and she squeezed it three times to wake him up too. The silver haired man opened his eyes tiredly and soon a groan came out of his throat for the backache that was produced by the uncomfortable and hard chair. He stopped complaining as soon as he saw his wife’s eyes staring at him.

He yawned before giving her a sweet smile, kissing her hand and then her forehead. Her skin was still burning.  

“Good morrow, my sun.” He greeted her, “Did you sleep well?”

“I did.” Her voice sounded weak, but Aegon tried to ignore that. “Did you?”

“I didn’t.” He answered annoyed, “This is a fucking castle, how can it not have comfortable chairs around?”

She laugh weakly.

“You still have a fever, don’t you?” Aegon asked. 

“I do, and I’m cold.” She complained. 

“I know, my love.” He replied, “But the Maester says it’s not good to put so many blankets on you, your fever can go worse.”

“And what about my husband’s arms?” She asked teasingly. Aegon just smiled, “Did the Maester forbid that too?”

Aegon took his shirt out of his body and made his way on top of the thin white bed sheet that was covering the shivering body of his beloved. She quickly cuddled under his arms, and hid her face on his chest, feeling the familiar warmth. Aegon did not care about how sweaty her body was, he just cared about making her feel comfortable and safe. She fell asleep once again; the fever was consuming her body.

The Maester walked in a few minutes before and almost choked when he saw the scene. A scandalized grin took over his wrinkled face and looked at them with horror. 

“Oh, no, my Prince!” He said, pulling Aegon’s arm and forcing him to get out of the bed. 

“What the fuck you think you’re doing?” He raised his voice, Lady Arryn woke up.

“My Prince, you should not be this close to you wife, she-”

“She’s my fucking wife, what did you expect?” He angrily protested. 

“My Prince, whatever illness the Princess has, we are not sure whether it is contagious or not. We cannot put your health at risk.”

Aegon was about to yell again, his face was red with anger because the Maester had woken up his wife. His hands were turned into fists, ready to punch him in the face, but the sweet voice of his beloved spoke first.

“I’m sorry, Maester Orwyle.” She said lightly, “It was my suggestion, not the Prince’s.” 

The Maester walked towards her and she tried to sit up but her arms were too frail to hold her weight, so she fell back onto the mattress. Aegon frowned, but she gave him a smile of reassurance. 

“You still have a fever, Princess.” The Maester pointed out. “How is your body behaving? Have you got any chill sensation? Cold, shivers, or a headache perhaps?”

“All of them.” She answered with one breath. 

The man took a weird looking tool and put it against her chest. He put his ear on it and asked everyone to be quiet. His eyes soon narrowed with worry, but he tried to downplay the situation by hiding his face from the Prince’s intense haze. His attempt failed.

“What?” Aegon asked harshly, “What happened, why would you make that face?” 

“My Prince-”

“What is going on?” He insisted, “Fucking answer me!”

“The heartbeats sound a bit weak.” He explained, “Too slow and too soft for someone for her age.”

“Well, then fucking do something about it!” 

“I’m going to prepare an infusion of herbs for the Princess, that might do well.” He said before leaving the room. 

The two of them stayed alone in the room once again, Lady Arryn looked at her husband and stretched her arm so he could grab her hand. He did, and he kissed it, sitting on the uncomfortable chair beside the bed.

“Don’t be so mean to him, my love.” She said, “He is trying to help.”

“He’s the Grand Maester, if he cannot do his job then we must find another one that can.” She stared at him with a scolding gesture, Aegon sighed, rolling his eyes. “I want the best for you, if I have to travel all over the world to find something to make you feel better, then I will.”

“I’m going to be fine.” She assured him, “In a week I’ll be out of this bed and we can start trying for a child again.”

“Don’t stress your mind thinking about it.” He told her, shaking his head. “We’ve talked about this before; there’s no hurry.”

“But-”

“No ‘but’, my sun.” He interrupted her, “We need to focus on your health first.”

And she nodded, giving an end to the conversation. 

Aegon wished to say his wife was getting better, but it was not the case at all. Everyday it seemed as if someone was sucking the life out of her body. She lost a lot of weight, Aegon was able to see her ribs marked on her chest; she barely ate anything, she did not have an appetite to satisfy. Everyday she would speak less too, and her voice would get breathy as if she was getting exhausted by just saying some words. Aegon then stopped making her answer, she would just nod, refuse or smile at him. It was better that way.

She didn’t have the strength to sit up either, so Aegon had to give her water with the help of a dropper. She would complain every time she swallowed, which alarmed him even more. 

When Aegon thought he was going through the worst, a terrible thing happened. He was ranting about the Maester and how he hasn’t found a solution to her illness even though it has been days since she was in that state. He was furious, spitting words of rage and nuisance while his wife just looked at him with tired glossy eyes. 

And then she started to cough.

At first, he did not pay too much attention to it, thinking that it was just that; a simple cough. But then, the white bed sheets were stained with small drops of blood. Aegon jumped out of the chair and helped her sit up while desperately calling for Maester Orwyle. She did not stop coughing, it was like she was choking on her own blood. 

Aegon’s eyes widened in terror, and an exasperating sensation took over his body when he saw that no one was coming to help her. Where the fuck was everyone? He thought, while he was on the verge of tears. He almost ripped his throat apart while screaming and demanding the presence of the Maester, who minutes later walked inside the room and quickly approached the Princess who had just stopped coughing. 

She had her eyes closed, and it seemed as if she was in pain with every breath she took. 

The Maester gave her milk of the puppy just so she could stop complaining about the tortuous pain her weakened body was suffering, and once he was ready to leave Aegon grabbed his arm with a firm grip, his eyes were teary and filled with rage. 

“What is going on with her?” He demanded an answer, his voice shaking. “Answer me!”

“We don’t know what is going on with her, my Prince.” He stuttered, “We have never seen a case like this before. The Citadel-”

“I don’t give a fuck about the Citadel.” Aegon spat, “You need to tell me what is wrong with her, why is she not getting better? It’s been days!”

“I’ve tried every method I know.” He confessed, “It seemed as if her body is rejecting everything. I’m not sure if she will make it.”

“What the fuck are you saying?” 

“My Prince, your lady wife state is alarming…” He spoke with care, as if she was walking between dragons. “She could not survive-”

Aegon grabbed him by his collar, making him gasp out of the impression. His nostrils expanded and he was breathing fast and hard, he was fuming.

“If my wife dies, you will die too.” He threatened him, “You must save her, I don’t care what you have to do, but you will save her.” 

The old man left quickly, and again it was just him and his dying wife. Aegon felt tears running down his face. He hated seeing her like this, so weak and sick. He would see her eyes for glimpses of time, he would take the opportunity to see them whenever she would open them, and it was enough for him to notice how they were not as shiny as they usually were; they were drained, with so little life. 

Alicent arrived in her room a few hours later, she saw his son grabbing her hand and the dried tears in his eyes. She walked closer to him and caressed his back in a motherly touch that made him shiver.

“What did the Maester say?” She asked worried.

“He doesn’t know what is going on.” Aegon replied with a shaky voice, proof that he had been crying. “He is an incompetent. How the fuck is he even a Maester if he doesn’t know how to heal people?”

“He’s trying his best.” Alicent consoled him, “He had sent multiple letters to the Citadel already, the answers might take too long to arrive.”

“But I need it now.” He muttered. “She is sick now, look at her!” He scalped, making Alicent flinch. “She is burning! The fever is killing her!”

“It is not, my child.” She said, in a failed attempt to calm him down. “Y/n will be fine… you just have to pray for her health and wellbeing. You won’t even notice and she’ll be healthy again.”

Then, Aegon broke. He stood up from his chair beside the bed and went to hug his mother, hiding his head on the crook of her neck and leaving traces of tears all over her green dress. Alicent hugged him back, stroking his hair and whispering words of consolation. 

“I’m scared.” He confessed, whispering. “I can’t lose her, mother. I cannot live without her.”

“You will not lose her.” She said, “She will be fine.”

“She’s not getting better.” He pulled away and looked at his mother. “The Maester even told me, she is too weak already.”

“I’ve seen people living through worse and surviving.”

“You didn’t see what I saw.” He shook his head, “She was coughing blood, mother. Blood!” His lower lip trembled, making his voice sound unsteady. “She’s dying.”

Alicent held his hands, “We should pray together, wouldn’t you like that? Y/n is devoted to the Seven, perhaps this is what she would want.” 

Aegon nodded and his mother gave a sweet kiss on his forehead before going at the end of the bed and grabbing their hands. He gave a glance to his wife, she was sleeping soundly, covered with the bedsheets and her hair was spreaded on her pillow. Aegon whined once he saw her poor state, and soon he forced himself to close his eyes and pray with his mother. 

He begged them. He asked them to return her health in exchange for everything he had. He offered his title; he never wanted it in the first place, he offered his dragon; he could live without him but not without his wife, he even offered his own life because he knew hers was more worthy than his. She did not deserve to die so young, she was always so full of life, always smiling and laughing, so kind and thoughtful. If someone deserved to die it was him, not her; so he begged the gods to take him instead. 

When the next morning came, he woke up in the same chair as always, covered in the same blanket and holding the same hand, but something was different. He could feel it. 

He squeezed her hand three times as usual to wake her up, but she did not squeeze it back. Aegon frowned and tried again; the outcome was the same. He tried not to panic or have an early reaction, so she stood up and quickly sat on the bed, right beside her.

“My love?” He said softly, “My love, is time to wake up.” Aegon softly shook her body, yet there was no answer. “Please, my love, let me see those beautiful eyes. Wake up.”

Nothing. Not even a sigh. 

Aegon grew desperate by the second and the tears soon started to gather in his eyes, knowing the meaning of this. He never gave up, he was still calling her and moving her body begging for her to react. 

“Y/n, please, wake up.” He pledged once again, sobbing, “I need you to wake up, I need you, please! Please!”

His hand went to her hair to caress it, and he felt the coldness of her forehead. All these past days, her skin was burning, but now it was as cold as ice. Aegon widened his eyes and his hands cupped her face.

“No, no, no.” He muttered, sniffing and whimpering. “Please, don’t. Don’t leave, my love. Please wake up.” His tears fell on her pale face, and he sob loudly. “Y/n, my love, please!” He started to yell, “Don’t do this to me! Wake up!”

His shouting started to concern the guard outside the room, he entered and saw Aegon crying on top of his dead wife’s body, holding her head and stroking her hair while he was uncontrollably sobbing. The guard saw what was happening and he was quick to call the Queen and the Maester, who appeared in the room within minutes. 

Alicent gasped once he saw the heartbreaking scene, and soon she started to cry too. Aegon was now holding her body while his face was buried on her chest. He never stopped crying and begging her to wake up. Soft ‘please’ were heard, he was whimpering pledged to her and the Gods, but neither seemed to listen.

“My Prince-”

“Don’t touch her!” He shouted at the Maester once he tried to put his hands on her. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

“Aegon,” Alicent walked towards him, rubbing his back and trying to not sound as if she was crying. “The Maester needs to do his job, please-”

“He killed her!” He accused him, “I will put your fucking useless head on a spike, you idiot cunt!”

“Aegon, that’s enough.” Alicent warned him, “You must let her go, please, my child.”

A group of Silent Sisters entered the room and Aegon’s whole body froze. The ladies started to walk towards the bed while Alicent was pulling him away from it. He started squirming under his mother’s arms, not wanting to be separated from his beloved.

Soon, two guards entered the room and grabbed his arms, forcing him to leave his wife.

“No! No!” He started to move harshly, trying to be set free. “Please, don’t take her! Please! Mother, please!”

“I’m so sorry, my child.” His mother answered.

Aegon saw how her face was covered with the white sheet, and how the Silent Sisters grabbed her body and took her out of the room, he was still fighting against the strong grips that were holding him back. 

“Let me go! Please!” He begged again.

Once the Silent Sister left and the bed was empty, the guards let him go. He felt onto his knees, seeing the shape of his wife still marked on the mattress they used to share and the tears came back. His mother stood by his side, and he hugged her hips gripping the gown of her dress and moaning out of pain. 

He lost her, the love of his life was gone and there was no one to blame. The Stranger looked back at him with a mocking face and took his wife, leaving him completely alone. 

Hours later he found himself staring at her body being wrapped in bandages in order to realize the funeral. He had one bottle filled with wine in his hand, and a piece of bread in the other. He was stumbling because he was already drunk. The Silent Sisters were working, and Aegon was lost in his own grief, looking at the corpse of his wife. 

He did not care if she was not a Targaryen, her funeral will be under the Old Valyrian traditions. 

“Aegon, you should not be here.” 

Aegon did not answer, he did not even bother to look at his mother who just arrived on his side. 

“It’s bad luck to see the face of the dead, we cannot be here.” She warned.

He scoffed, taking a large sip from his bottle and then taking a bite from the piece of bread in his hand. He shrugged as if he did not care. And in some way, he didn’t.

“I don’t give a shit.” He muttered, “They have already taken everything from me. They may as well take me if they are merciful enough.”

“Don’t say those things.” Alicent said. She turned around to not look at the corpse anymore, facing his child whose eyes seemed to be stuck on her wife’s body. “Y/n would not like you to die.”

“And what do you know?” He asked mockingly, “You knew nothing about her. None of you did!”

“Aegon, please be quiet. The Gods-”

“Fuck the Gods.”

“Aegon!” She scolded him.

“No, no. Fuck them.” He spat furiously, his eyes were a mixture of sadness and anger. “I begged them, mother. Me and y/n begged them for their mercy.” He started crying again, “When we wanted a child, we begged every fucking night to the Mother, to have a little of compassion towards us and give us the child that we deserved- that she deserved!” He sniffed, looking now at his mother. “Then I begged all of them for her life. And none of them heard me, none of them did!”

“My child…” She tried to hug him, but he took a step back. 

“They made me believe that I was safe.” He muttered, “They made me meet her, love her and marry her. They gave me this  happiness just so they can steal it away!” 

He laughed, a bitter laugh that made Alicent sink in her place. Aegon took the last sip from his cup and threw the bottle away, not caring about the uproarious sound it would make once it fell onto the ground. Then, he turned to his mother once again.

“I couldn’t-” He sighed, trying not to cry. “I couldn’t even give her a child.” He scoffed, “It was all she ever wanted and I couldn’t give it to her.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Aegon.” She tried to console him once again. 

“I have nothing left from her.” He said bitterly, “Not even a child that would help me to remember her face. Nothing at all.”

He threw the piece of bread in his hand on the floor, and he left for the gardens; the place where they were always gathered during their youth. 

Aegon saw everything with nostalgic eyes filled with tears. His head was aching, his throat too. He had a watery nose thanks to the tears and his heart was feeling shattered. He looked around, finding the tree where they always used to read, the benches where Aegon used to sit down while Lady Arryn would braid his hair. Although the flowers were his breaking point. 

He walked close to the small mauve pansies that she always loved. He would always steal one and put her on her hair every time they came to the gardens. She would blush and laugh nervously for the gesture, but he always ended up receiving a small kiss on his cheek for it. That’s why he always did it.

He took one and looked at it with attention, remembering the same petals on her white wedding gown during the happiest day in his life. 

He couldn’t help but cry at the memory.

+

The day of the funeral Aegon did not speak with anyone. Lord Arryn and his other sons —y/n’s brothers— arrived within a week, and then everything was ready for the ceremony. 

Sunfyre was in the hills, waiting for the signal of his rider to set fire on the wrapped body. They were all expecting for Aegon to give a speech, to say something about the wife he claimed to love so deeply, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was too broke, too lost in his grief.

He had a small mauve pansy in his hand, Aemond had told him that it represented the lost love which gave a whole different meaning to it. Aegon heard the speech of his father in law, who was devastated for not taking her illness seriously and leaving her without his company on her last days. Aegon could hear the guilt in his voice, and he would be grateful that at least he was with her during her last breath. 

When the time arrived, everyone went silent. Aegon had to pronounce the word, but instead he walked toward the body and stood beside them, letting himself cry in agony for his suffering. Minutes passed and he found himself staring at it for too long. 

He took the flower and left it where her ear was supposed to be. This time, however, he did not feel her soft lips against his cheek.

“I will always love you, my sun.” He whispered before walking back to where the rest of the people were. 

Aegon stood beside his mother, who rubbed his back in the instant he was close. He took a deep breath and saw the body one last time. He tried to imagine a life without her, without her smile and laughter, without her rosy cheeks and nervous muttering. He couldn’t. A life without her seemed almost impossible.

He imagined a future with her instead, and a thousand pictures would come to his mind. Her raising a child that would be as beautiful as her, her dancing with him on their children's name day, her having long conversations at night with him. He thought so easily about those things because that was what should’ve been; a long life by her side.

But now he was standing in front of everybody, crying and sighing with an agonizing pain on his chest. His voice refused to come out in the first two tries, but on the third, he cleared his throat and accepted his miserable future, without the woman he so deeply loved.

He took a deep breath, and finally said,

“Dracarys.”