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astrxq · 3 months ago

Note

Hey! I love The Dragon's Bride so much, I must have read it like 5 times already. You have beautiful writing and the fact that it's 17k is even better.

If your requests are still open, I wanted to throw an idea your way. Seeing how isolated the Blacks are getting, with the Greens conquering everything around them by land, Rhaenyra is desperate to forge another alliance that will bring her more ground stability. The perfect lord that can bring this to her only wants one thing in return: for his grandson to be the future king. So she is forced to break Jace's engagement to Baela so he can marry the lord's only daughter instead. That angst because Jace has feelings for Baela before the fluff of him discovering his feelings for his new wife like fjehdhw

It's totally okay if you don't vibe with the idea and don't want to write it btw!!

Conspiracy of Hearts

jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

words: 23k

notes: thank you sooooo much anon <33, i love long fics (as you can probably tell) and i'm so so glad you enjoyed it. non-canon events, jace x baela at times, a made up lord. a bit of angst?? - fluffy. unnecessarily long fic, i apologize. i am NOT proud of this one 😭

The air in the great hall of Dragonstone was thick with tension, the stone walls seeming to close in as Queen Rhaenyra paced before the ancient Painted Table. The room was eerily quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the hearth fire and the soft rustle of her skirts as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Her fingers traced the carved coastline of Westeros, lingering over the territories that had fallen to the Greens’ hands.

"Your Grace," a voice called from beyond the heavy oak doors. "Prince Jacaerys has arrived."

Rhaenyra straightened, composing herself with visible effort. "Send him in," she commanded, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her eyes.

The doors swung open, and Jacaerys Velaryon strode in. At nine-and-ten, he was already a man grown, with the bearing of one much older. His hands rested on his sword as he approached his mother with calm.

"Your Grace," he said, bowing his head respectfully. "You summoned me?"

Rhaenyra's gaze softened as it fell upon her eldest son. "Jace," she began, then faltered. For a moment, the mask of queenship slipped, revealing the anguish beneath. "I'm afraid I have dire news."

Jace's posture stiffened, bracing himself for whatever blow was to come.

"The Greens have taken Tumbleton," Rhaenyra continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "Our hold on the Reach is slipping. If we do not act soon, all will be lost."

Jace nodded gravely. "What would you have me do, Mother? I can fly to Tumbleton on Vermax, rally our forces–"

"No," Rhaenyra cut him off sharply. "I need you here, Jace. What I ask of you... it is not a battle to be fought with dragon fire, but with words and... promises."

A heavy silence fell over the room. Jacaerys took a deep breath, straightening his posture once again as he nodded once at his mother, silently promising to fulfill his duty.

"Lord Redfort has offered his support," Rhaenyra said at last. "His armies, his gold, his influence in the Vale. With his backing, we could turn the tide of this war."

Jace's eyes lit up with hope. "That's wonderful news, Mother. Why do you look so troubled?"

Rhaenyra's laugh was bitter and hollow. "Because nothing comes without a price, my son. And Lord Redfort's price is... steep."

Understanding dawned on Jace's face, followed swiftly by a flash of fear that he quickly masked. "What does he want?"

"He wants assurance that his family's loyalty will be rewarded," Rhaenyra said, each word seeming to pain her. "He demands that his grandson be promised the throne."

The implication hung heavy in the air. He felt a tightness in his chest, knowing what this meant for Jace, for Baela, for the future that had been carefully planned since their childhood.

"But... Baela..." Jace's voice was barely audible, a mixture of confusion and growing dread.

"I know," Rhaenyra said, and for a moment her composure cracked entirely. She moved to her son, taking his hands in hers. "My boy, my sweet boy. If there were any other way..."

Jace pulled away, his face a storm of emotions. "There must be another way. We can offer Lord Redfort something else, anything else."

"Don't you think I've tried?" Rhaenyra's voice rose in frustration. "I've offered titles, lands, positions at court. Nothing will sway him. It's this, or we lose everything we've fought for."

Jace turned away, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. The firelight cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the anguish etched there. "And what of Baela?" he asked at last, "What am I to tell her?"

Rhaenyra's shoulders sagged. "It is duty that will drive us to victory, my son."

"So I am to marry Lord Redfort's granddaughter," Jace said flatly. It wasn't a question.

"His daughter," Rhaenyra corrected gently. "She is but a year younger than you."

Jace's laugh was hollow. "As if that matters. I don't know her. I don't love her."

"Love?" Rhaenyra's voice hardened. "Love is a luxury we cannot afford in times of war, Jacaerys. You are a prince of the realm. Your duty is to your family, to your people. Sometimes that duty requires sacrifice."

Jace's jaw clenched. For a moment, Rhaenyra feared he would refuse outright. But then, slowly, the fight seemed to drain out of him. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

"When?" he asked simply.

"Lord Redfort and his daughter will arrive within a fortnight," Rhaenyra said, relief evident in her voice. "The betrothal will be announced immediately, and the wedding will take place as soon as it can be arranged after the war."

Jace nodded mutely, his eyes unfocused, staring at something only he could see. Without another word, he turned and strode from the room. The heavy doors slammed shut behind Jace as he stormed out of the great hall. His mind reeled, the weight of his mother's words pressing down upon him like a physical force.

Without thinking, his feet carried him to the one place he knew he would find solace – or perhaps, he realized with a pang of guilt, the one place he shouldn't go.

Baela was in the dragon pit, tending to Moondancer. The young dragon chirped softly as she ran her hand over the scales, the sound echoing in the cavernous space. She looked up as Jace approached, her expression shifting from surprise to concern as she took in his troubled demeanor.

"Jace?" she called, setting down her hand. "What is wrong?"

For a moment, Jacaerys couldn't speak. He simply stood there, drinking in the sight of her – the way the torchlight glinted off her silver-gold hair, the gentle curve of her lips, the strength and grace in her movements. Everything he was about to lose.

"It's over," he finally managed, his voice hoarse. "Our betrothal. It's... it's been broken."

Baela's eyes widened, but to Jace's surprise, there was no shock in them. Only a deep, resigned sadness. "I see," she said softly. "The alliance with Lord Redfort?"

Jace nodded, a bitter laugh escaping him. "Of course you've heard. Nothing stays secret for long in this damned castle."

“Her Grace mentioned she was working with sending ravens for alliances, I only figured.” she said softly, patting her dragon’s head one last time before taking two steps towards him.

"Jace," Baela said, her voice gentle but firm. "You know as well as I do that this war demands sacrifices from all of us."

Her calm acceptance only fueled his frustration. He began to pace, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Sacrifices? Is that what we're calling it now? Throwing away the betrothal made in honor of my brother’s heirship, everything we've planned for years, all for the sake of some lord's support?"

"It's not just some lord," Baela reminded him. "It's the key to holding the Vale. Without it–"

"I know it!" Jace snapped, immediately regretting his harsh tone. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I know what is at stake, Baela. But it is unfair."

Baela stepped closer, her eyes full of understanding and a pain that mirrored his own. "Our duty is to our family, to the realm. Personal happiness... it is a luxury we can't afford right now."

Jacaerys felt the fight drain out of him, replaced by a bone-deep weariness.

Baela reached out, taking his hand in hers. Her touch was warm, familiar, and Jace had to resist the urge to pull her close and never let go. Jacaerys looked at her, marveling at her strength, her composure in the face of this devastating news.

"How can you be so calm about this?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

A sad smile played at the corners of Baela's lips. "Because one of us has to be," she said. "And because I've always known that our duty might ask this of us one day. It doesn't make it easier, but... I've had time to prepare myself for the possibility."

Jace felt a wave of shame wash over him. Here he was, raging against the unfairness of it all, while Baela faced their shared loss with grace and dignity. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I should be stronger. Like you."

Baela shook her head, squeezing his hand. "You are strong, Jace. But it's alright to be angry, to be hurt. Just... don't let it consume you. The realm needs you. Your mother needs you."

Jace felt a swell of admiration for her, mixed with a deep, aching sorrow for what they were losing. "I don't know if I can do this without you," he admitted.

Baela's expression softened. She reached up, cupping his cheek in her hand. "You can," she assured him. "You must. And I'll be here, Jace. Not as your wife, but as your cousin, your friend, your ally. That will never change."

For a long moment, they stood there, the weight of their shared past and the uncertain future hanging between them. Then, slowly, Jace nodded. "I must ready for my betrothed’s arrival, then.”

The new use of the word felt bitter against his tongue, eyes refusing to meet Baela’s as he uttered the words.

Jacaerys took a deep breath, straightening his shoulders. He knew Baela was right. It was time to face his duty, no matter how much it hurt. With one last look at the woman he had thought would be his future, he turned and walked out of the dragon pit.

The days leading up to Lord Redfort's arrival passed in a blur of mounting tension and barely contained dread for Jacaerys. Each morning, he woke with a heavy heart, the weight of his impending duty pressing down on him like a tangible force. His chambers, usually a sanctuary, felt more like a prison, the stone walls closing in as he counted down the days to the fateful meeting.

He threw himself into his work, training with his sword until his muscles ached and his mind was numb. The clashing of steel, the grunts of exertion, and the rhythm of his footwork became his solace until his hands bled in show of his efforts. But no matter how fiercely he fought, the looming reality of his betrothal was inescapable. His sparring partners, sensing his turmoil, gave him space, their concerned glances only serving to deepen his isolation.

Meals were equally oppressive. The great hall buzzed with whispered conversations and furtive looks. Jacaerys ate in silence, his appetite waning with each passing day. His brothers tried to cheer him with tales of their latest exploits, but their words fell flat, unable to penetrate the fog of his thoughts. Even the usually boisterous presence of his dragon, Vermax, did little to lift his spirits. The bond they shared felt strained, as if the beast sensed his master's inner turmoil.

The evenings were the hardest. As the castle settled into a quiet lull, Jacaerys found himself wandering the halls, seeking solace in familiar places. He often ended up in the dragon pit, watching the majestic creatures in their pens. Baela was always there, her presence a bittersweet comfort. They spoke little, their shared silence a testament to the unspoken pain that lingered between them. Yet he felt as if their bond had not changed one bit.

Often, Baela approached him. Her face was always serene, but her eyes held a sadness that mirrored his own. “This... brooding will only make things harder." she’d tell him. And everytime Jacaerys would nod and mumble about understanding what his duty is.

Her words, though comforting, did little to ease the ache in his heart. He’d squeeze her hand in silent gratitude, then turn away, retreating to the solitude of his chambers. Sleep was elusive, his dreams haunted by visions of a future that now seemed out of reach.

————

The fortnight passed agonizingly slowly, each day blending into the next. The castle was a hive of activity, preparations for Lord Redfort's arrival consuming everyone's attention. Jacaerys found himself caught in a whirlwind of fittings, rehearsals, and diplomatic meetings. His mother, ever the strategist, drilled into him the importance of this alliance, reminding him of the stakes with every passing moment.

Finally, the day arrived. The great hall was adorned with banners and finery, the air thick with the scent of fresh flowers and polished armor. Jacaerys stood by his mother's side, his expression a mask of stoic resolve. He fidgeted with his fingers, his chest heaving every time he would steal a glance at Baela, who would simply give him a small smile and a supporting nod.

As the hours passed, anticipation hung in the air like a heavy fog. Jacaerys stood in the great hall, the weight of his impending duty pressing down upon him. His armor gleamed under the torchlight, a stark contrast to the turmoil within. The arrival of Lord Redfort and his retinue was imminent, each passing moment marked by the echoing footsteps in the corridor beyond.

Rhaenyra, resplendent in her queenly attire, stood beside her son with an air of regal composure that belied the storm of emotions beneath. Her eyes occasionally flicked towards Jacaerys, a silent reassurance amidst the grand preparations, but he didn’t meet her gaze. The hall buzzed with whispered conversations and the rustle of silk as courtiers and advisors moved about, ensuring everything was perfect for the crucial meeting.

At last, the doors swung open with a resounding thud, and Lord Redfort entered with measured steps as the maesters announced his name and title. His presence commanded attention – a high lord of the Vale, his face weathered by years of governance and warfare. You walked beside him, your features bore a striking resemblance to your father. Your eyes, however, betrayed a hint of nervousness and curiosity as you glanced around the hall before settling on his.

Jacaerys's heart skipped a beat as his eyes met yours for the first time. You were beautiful, with cascading hair and a determined set to your jaw that spoke of your noble upbringing. He knew your name but little else. And yet, he knew you were not Baela.

Lord Redfort approached Queen Rhaenyra with a deep bow, which she acknowledged with a nod.

Your gaze finally settled on the figures at the far end of the hall – Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, regal and formidable, and beside her, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon. Your breath caught in your throat as you studied your betrothed. He was everything the stories had claimed – tall and handsome, with the striking features of his bloodline. But there was something else, a tension in his stance, a heaviness in his eyes that spoke of inner turmoil.

As your father bowed to the Queen, you sank into a deep curtsy, willing your voice to remain steady as you spoke. "Your Grace, Prince Jacaerys," you said, "It is an honor to be welcomed to Dragonstone."

Queen Rhaenyra's voice was warm but tinged with an underlying steel as she replied, "We are most pleased to welcome you and your father, Lady Y/n. Your presence here marks a new chapter in the alliance between our houses."

You rose from your curtsy, your eyes meeting Jacaerys's once more. His mother turned to look at him, urging him to speak. For a fleeting moment, you thought you saw a flicker of curiosity in his gaze, quickly masked by the cool formality of his response.

"The honor is ours, we hope you find Dragonstone to your liking."

You couldn't help but notice the way Jacaerys's gaze occasionally drifted to a silver-haired young woman standing off to the side. The look they shared spoke volumes – a mixture of pain, resignation, and something deeper that made your heart sink. This, you realized, must be Lady Baela, the woman who had held your betrothed's heart until duty tore them apart.

The weight of the situation settled more heavily upon you. The challenge before you seemed insurmountable – to win the trust, perhaps even the affection, of a man whose heart clearly belonged to another.

You gazed up to your father, his serious expression settled on the Queen, arms stiffly linked and resting on his chest. “I assume my wishes were clear, Your Grace. I do not wish to impose but…”

“They were, Lord Redfort. And I assure you, your proposal is being given the utmost consideration.”

Jace’s eyes flickered to yours for a moment, his expression almost unreadable as he blinked at you, trying to gauge your own thoughts on the matter. You inhaled deeply as his eyes moved to Baela’s once again, you followed his train of sight.

Baela’s chest tightened once your eyes met, yours apologetic and Jacaerys’ hurt.

As the negotiations drew to a close, Queen Rhaenyra announced the betrothal formally. "Let it be known," she proclaimed, her voice carrying authority and finality, "that Prince Jacaerys Velaryon and Lady Y/n Redfort are betrothed in the sight of gods and men."

The words hung in the air, sealing the fate of all involved. Jacaerys glanced at you, his eyes conflicted yet resigned. You offered him a small, sympathetic smile, understanding the weight he carried upon his shoulders. He simply offered a tight-lipped smile before he followed after his mother.

Baela’s eyes traced his path down the hall, a sigh escaping her lips as she approached you. “I will walk you to your chambers, let you settle in properly.”

As you walked with Baela through the corridors of Dragonstone, her presence was a calming influence amidst the turmoil swirling within you. The castle walls seemed to echo with the weight of the recent betrothal announcement, yet Baela's gentle demeanor offered a brief respite from the tension.

"I hope your journey here was not too arduous, Lady Y/n," Baela said softly, her voice carrying a genuine concern.

You nodded, grateful for her kindness. "It was quite pleasant… I still have to get acquainted with the change of weather, though.”

She moved to link her arm with yours, the gesture surprised you, awaiting resentment and coldness from her after the broken betrothal between her and the prince.

"Dragonstone can be quite humid to newcomers", Baela continued as she led you through the winding corridors of Dragonstone. Her touch was reassuring, her smile sincere.

"You'll find the climate more forgiving as you settle in," she assured you, her voice gentle. "It takes some time to get used to the island's rhythms, but there's a beauty to it once you do."

Her words offered a small measure of comfort amidst the uncertainty. You glanced at her, noting the resilience in her demeanor despite the obvious sadness in her eyes. "Thank you, Lady Baela," you said sincerely. "I appreciate your kindness."

Baela smiled softly. "Please, call me Baela.”

As you walked alongside Baela through the corridors of Dragonstone, her arm linked with yours, you couldn't help but marvel at her composure. Here was a woman who had just lost her betrothal to the man you were now set to marry, yet she showed you nothing but kindness and understanding.

"Baela," you said softly, testing the name on your lips. It felt strange to address her so familiarly, given the circumstances, but her gentle demeanor made it feel right somehow.

She glanced at you, her silver-gold hair catching the torchlight as she smiled warmly. "Yes?"

"I hope... I hope we can be allies," you said earnestly, “Despite the circumstances.”

Baela's expression softened, a mix of understanding and gentle sadness in her eyes. She squeezed your arm lightly, her touch reassuring.

"Of course we can," she said, her voice warm. "In fact, I hope we can be more than just allies. Friends, even. We're in this together, after all, as family."

You felt a wave of relief wash over you at her words. The tension that had been building in your chest since your arrival began to ease slightly.

"I'm glad," you admitted. "I was worried... well, given the situation..."

Baela shook her head, a rueful smile playing at her lips. "The circumstances are what they are. We can't change them, but we can choose how we respond to them. And I choose to see you as a friend, not a rival."

She stopped in front of two big wooden doors, thick and heavy at the sight. “Here we are,” she said, reaching for the handles before getting interrupted by one of the handmaids.

“Allow me, Lady Baela.” the girl mumbled, pushing open the doors before you.

As the heavy wooden doors swung open, you were greeted by a spacious chamber bathed in warm candlelight. The room was adorned with rich tapestries depicting dragons in flight, their colors muted yet regal. A large four-poster bed dominated one wall, its dark wood intricately carved with scales and flames.

"These will be your chambers," Baela said, gesturing for you to enter. "I hope you'll find them comfortable."

You stepped inside, your eyes wide as you took in your new surroundings. A writing desk stood near a window overlooking the sea, and a cozy sitting area with plush chairs was arranged before a hearth. Everything spoke of luxury and careful craftsmanship.

"It's beautiful," you breathed, turning to Baela with genuine appreciation.

Baela smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "The servants have already unpacked your belongings," she said, gesturing to a trunk at the foot of the bed. "But if you need anything else, don't hesitate to ask."

You nodded, your fingers trailing over the smooth surface of a nearby table. "Thank you, Baela."

She stepped closer, her expression serious. "I know this can't be easy for you," she said softly. "Coming to a new place, betrothed to a man you don't know, in the middle of a war. But if you ever need someone to converse with, simply ask for my presence and I shall come to you."

With a final nod, she departed, leaving you alone in your new chambers. As the door closed behind her, you let out a long, shaky breath, the events of the day finally catching up with you.

As you settled into your new chambers, the weight of the day's events began to sink in. The journey from the Vale, the formal introductions, the palpable tension in the great hall – it all swirled in your mind like a tempest. You sank onto the edge of the bed, your fingers tracing the intricate patterns carved into the wooden frame.

Your thoughts drifted to Prince Jacaerys. His handsome features were etched in your memory, but it was the sadness in his eyes that truly captured your attention. You had known, of course, about his previous betrothal to Lady Baela. It was common knowledge throughout the Seven Kingdoms. But seeing the pain etched on both their faces made the reality of the situation hit home.

A soft knock at the door startled you from your reverie. "Come in," you called, smoothing your skirts as you stood.

A young handmaid entered, carrying a tray laden with food and a steaming pot of tea. "Begging your pardon, m'lady," she said with a curtsy. "Queen Rhaenyra thought you might prefer to dine in your chambers this evening, to rest from your journey."

You nodded, grateful for the consideration. "Thank you," you said softly. "Please convey my gratitude to Her Grace."

As the handmaid set up the meal on a small table near the window, you found yourself drawn to the view outside. Dragonstone was unlike anything you had ever seen. The castle seemed to grow out of the very rock of the island, its towers reaching towards the sky like the necks of the dragons it was named for. In the fading light of day, you could see the churning sea beyond, its waves crashing against the rocky shore.

"Will there be anything else, my lady?" the handmaid asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

You turned, offering her a small smile. "No, thank you. That will be all."

As the door closed behind her, you were once again left alone with your thoughts. You picked at the food, your appetite diminished by the swirling emotions within you. The tea, at least, was a comfort, its warmth spreading through you as you sipped.

Your mind wandered to the task ahead of you. How were you supposed to forge a connection with a man whose heart clearly belonged to another? The political implications of this marriage weighed heavily on your shoulders. Your father's expectations, the need for this alliance to succeed – it all seemed impossibly daunting.

You’d heard all about the making of a babe, about lust and love, you’d read all about it. But the thought of bearing the babe of a man in love with another made your stomach turn, making your throat tighten.

—————

The next morning dawned bright and clear, the sun's rays filtering through the windows of your chamber. You rose early, determined to start this new chapter of your life with purpose. As you dressed, choosing a gown in the deep red and white of your house, you steeled yourself for the day ahead.

A knock at your door announced the arrival of a servant, there to get you into your skirts and come to escort you to breakfast. As you made your way through the winding halls of Dragonstone, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nervousness in your stomach.

The great hall was already bustling with activity when you arrived. Queen Rhaenyra sat at the high table, deep in conversation with her advisors. Your eyes scanned the room, finally landing on Prince Jacaerys, seated at a smaller table with his siblings.

Taking a deep breath, you approached. "Good morning, Your Grace," you said, dipping into a curtsy. "I hope I'm not intruding."

Jacaerys looked up, surprise flickering across his features before he schooled his expression into one of polite neutrality. "My lady," he said, rising to his feet. "Please, join us."

As you took the seat he offered, you couldn't help but notice the curious glances from his younger brothers. Joffrey, the middle child, offered you a friendly smile, while the younger kids regarded you with wide-eyed wonder.

"Did you sleep well?" Jacaerys asked, his tone formal but not unkind.

You nodded, offering a small smile. "I did, thank you. The chambers are lovely."

An awkward silence fell over the table, broken only by the clatter of cutlery and the low hum of conversation from the surrounding tables. You busied yourself with your breakfast, stealing glances at Jacaerys when you thought he wasn't looking.

He seemed distracted, his gaze often drifting to the far side of the hall where Lady Baela’s seat was empty, next to her siste’s Rhaena. Each time, a flicker of pain would cross his face before he caught himself and returned his attention to his meal.

"Is it true you can ride a horse as well as any knight?" little Joffrey suddenly piped up, his eyes bright with curiosity as he stared up at you, his small hand reaching for your skirts before Jace pulled it away.

You blinked, surprised by the question. "I... yes, I suppose I can," you replied, a genuine smile tugging at your lips. "My father insisted I learn from a young age."

"That's amazing!" he exclaimed, leaning forward eagerly. "Can you teach me? Jace is always too busy."

Jacaerys shifted uncomfortably, but you saw an opportunity to bridge the awkward gap between you.

"I'd be happy to," you said, your smile widening. "If it's alright with your brother, of course."

For the first time that morning, Jacaerys met your gaze directly. Something akin to gratitude flickered in his eyes. "That would be... kind of you," he said softly.

Silence filled the air once again, awkward glances shared between you and Jacaerys as he quietly picked at his plate.

As the uncomfortable silence stretched, the door to the great hall creaked open, drawing everyone's attention. Lady Baela entered, her graceful presence immediately commanding the room.

Jacaerys's eyes lit up momentarily as he watched her approach, but the flicker of hope was quickly replaced by the familiar sadness. Baela's eyes scanned the room, locking onto his for a heartbeat before shifting to you. A small, serene smile graced her lips as she made her way to your table.

"Good morrow," she greeted, her voice as warm as the morning sun streaming through the windows.

Baela took a seat beside you, her presence a soothing balm to the tension in the air. She nodded to Jacaerys, lingering their locked gaze in silence, before turning her attention to you.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked, her tone genuinely concerned.

"I did, thank you," you replied, a genuine smile tugging at your lips. "The chambers are lovely."

Baela's smile widened. "I'm glad to hear that. Have you had time to explore the place?"

You straightened your back, glancing at your betrothed and then back to her. You shook your head. "No, I haven't had the chance yet," you admitted, trying to keep your voice light.

Baela's eyes sparkled with genuine enthusiasm. "Then it's settled. I'll give you a tour after breakfast. There are some wonderful places I think you'll enjoy."

Jacaerys felt a surge of confusion as he watched Baela's calm and cheerful demeanor. Her willingness to extend kindness and camaraderie to you, the woman set to marry the man she once loved, was baffling. He had expected resentment, anger, or at least some form of cold distance. Instead, Baela seemed genuinely at ease, her smile unwavering.

His thoughts churned as he tried to make sense of her behavior. Was she truly alright with the broken betrothal, or was this a mask she wore to hide her pain? Jacaerys couldn't tell. He stole a glance at you, noting the slight relaxation in your posture as you engaged with Baela. The two of you seemed to connect in a way he hadn't anticipated.

Baela's strength had always been a source of comfort, but now it felt like a reminder of his own perceived weakness. His own frustration clouding his judgment as hers only brought her closer to you.

Breakfast continued, the conversations light and courteous. You and Baela exchanged pleasantries about Dragonstone's architecture, its history, and its dragons. Joffrey's enthusiasm brightened the table as he peppered you with questions about the Vale and your life there. Jacaerys found himself mostly silent, observing the dynamic between you and Baela as he ate small bites of his food, dreading his leave.

When the meal concluded, Baela rose from her seat, her eyes meeting Jace’s. "I hope you'll join us on the tour, Jace," she said softly, her voice holding a note of encouragement.

Jacaerys hesitated, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He glanced at you, noting the hopeful glimmer in your eyes, then back at Baela, who was giving him a look, telling him to go. Taking a deep breath, he cleared his throat.

“If I am not busy, yes.”

Again, with linked arms, Baela urged her twin to join you both as she talked your ear off about the halls. Rhaena quickly following suit and giving you a polite smile.

As Baela led you away for the tour, Jacaerys remained behind, his expression conflicted. He watched as you disappeared around a corner, arm-in-arm with Baela and Rhaena. A moment passed before he made his decision, quietly following at a distance.

Throughout the tour, Jacaerys kept to the shadows, observing the easy rapport developing between you and Baela. His brow furrowed as he watched Baela's animated gestures, her warm smiles, and your growing comfort in her presence. The lack of tension or resentment between you both stirred a complicated mix of emotions within him. He watched you laugh, hand holding onto Rhaena as she pointed at the dragon pit.

As the day wore on and you retired to your chambers, Jacaerys found himself restless, pacing the halls of Dragonstone. The sun had long since set when he finally sought out Baela, his emotions simmering beneath the surface.

You were about to drift off to sleep when muffled voices from the corridor caught your attention. Curiosity piqued, you crept to the door, quietly prying it open, the voices getting clearer.

"How can you be so... so accepting about all of this?" Jacaerys' voice, usually so controlled, trembled with barely contained frustration.

"What would you have me do, Jace?" Baela's response was measured, but there was an edge to her tone. "Treat her unkindly? Refuse to acknowledge her presence?"

"No, of course not, but..." Jacaerys faltered. "You act as if nothing has changed. As if our betrothal wasn't just shattered for the sake of politics less than two days ago."

There was a pause, and when Baela spoke again, her voice was softer. "Everything has changed, Jace. But that doesn't mean we must let bitterness consume us. She is not to blame for this situation."

"I know that," Jacaerys snapped, then sighed heavily, you could hear his frustration. "I know. But seeing you with her, so friendly, so at ease... it's like you don't even care that we're no longer..."

"Don't," Baela's voice was sharp now. "Don't you dare suggest that I don't care. We both knew our duty might require sacrifices. I'm choosing to face this with grace, for all our sakes."

"And I'm just supposed to accept that? To watch you befriend the woman I'm being forced to marry, while my heart..." Jacaerys's voice broke off.

"Your heart will heal, Jace," Baela said gently. "As will mine. But we must give it time, and we must not punish Lady Y/n for circumstances beyond her control."

The silence that followed was heavy. You held your breath, straining to hear more.

"I don't know if I can do that, Baela," Jacaerys finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You can," Baela assured him. "And who knows? Perhaps in time, you might find that Lady Y/n..."

"Don't," Jacaerys cut her off. "Please, just... don't. I could never."

You heard footsteps retreating, growing fainter until they disappeared entirely. Slowly, you backed away from the door, your mind reeling from what you'd overheard.

As you stood there, hidden in the shadows of the corridor, your heart sank with each word that passed between Jacaerys and Baela. Guilt gnawed at you, a bitter realization settling in your chest. You hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but now you couldn’t ignore the raw emotions laid bare before you.

Jacaerys’s voice, tinged with frustration and hurt, echoed in your mind. His words stung deeply, cutting through the uncertainty that had clouded your thoughts since arriving at Dragonstone.

Any chance of him growing comfortable, even forming an attachment to you, vanished before your eyes at his words.

Locking the door, you sat on your bed, knees to your chest as you felt your breathing break its steady pace. The rawness of Jacaerys's emotions and his adamant refusal to even consider the possibility of developing feelings for you left a hollow ache in your chest.

Rising from your bed, you moved to the window, gazing out at the rocky shores of Dragonstone. The sea churned restlessly, mirroring the turmoil in your heart. You had known this marriage was born of political necessity, but hearing Jacaerys's words had driven home the reality of your situation in a way nothing else could have.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. "Come in," you called, turning from the window.

Baela entered, her silver-gold hair catching the soft candle light. Her lips faltered as she took in your drawn expression. "I did not know you were awake."

For a moment, you considered confessing what you'd overheard, but something held you back. Instead, you forced a small smile. "Just a restless night," you said. "I'm still adjusting to the sound of the waves, I suppose."

Baela's eyes searched your face, and you got the sense she didn't quite believe you. But she didn't press the issue. “I… I cannot find sleep either, I figured I’d come to see how you’re holding up with your stay.”

As you looked closer at Baela in the dim candlelight, you noticed the telltale signs of recent tears. Her eyes were slightly puffy and rimmed with red, and there was a lingering sadness in her expression that she couldn't quite hide. Her usually perfect composure seemed fragile, as if it might crack at any moment.

Baela's shoulders were slumped ever so slightly, betraying a weariness that went beyond mere physical exhaustion. Her fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of her nightgown, a nervous gesture that spoke volumes about her emotional state. Despite her attempt at a smile, there was a vulnerability in her gaze that tugged at your heart.

In that moment, you realized that Baela wasn't just here to check on you – she was seeking comfort and companionship herself. The strong, graceful woman who had been your guide and support since your arrival now looked like she desperately needed a friend.

You took two steps towards her, offering your hand, which she hesitantly took, and guiding her to sit on the edge of your bed.

For a while, neither of you spoke. You sensed Baela struggling to maintain her composure, her facade of strength cracking ever so slightly. Her shoulders trembled imperceptibly, a telltale sign of the storm raging within.

Without a word, you moved closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Baela stiffened at first, surprised by your gesture, but then she leaned into your touch, a silent admission of her vulnerability.

“I’m sorry,” you spoke, “I do not wish for your burden.”

"It's not your burden to bear," Baela whispered hoarsely, her voice thick with emotion. "None of this is your fault. Jace is just… still adjusting to the idea."

Baela remained silent for a long moment, her gaze distant. Her fingers traced the intricate embroidery on her sleeve, a nervous habit betraying her inner turmoil.

"I've known Jace my whole life," Baela began softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "We grew up together, shared dreams of the future, of ruling Dragonstone side by side. Our betrothal... it felt like destiny."

You tightened your embrace, offering silent support as Baela's voice wavered and your guilt only grew in your chest. She leaned into you, seeking solace in your presence.

"I care for him, Y/n," Baela admitted, her voice trembling with unspoken emotion. "And seeing him in pain... knowing that our future together is no longer possible... I can't bear it."

Tears welled up in Baela's eyes once more, and this time she didn't hold them back. They flowed freely, silent rivulets down her cheeks, marking the depth of her sorrow.

"I would rather see him find happiness with you," Baela confessed in a choked whisper, her words heavy with resignation. "Than watch him cling to a love that can never be. He deserves that much, after everything. He deserves a love that is possible, that is as just and fair as it is real."

Her admission hung in the air between you, a bittersweet revelation tinged with heartache. You squeezed her hand gently, your own heart heavy with empathy for her plight. You watched as she curled up to the sheets of your bed, breathing steadying as she let sleep take over her.

You tried to push away the guilt that threatened to overwhelm you. After all, you hadn’t asked for this betrothal any more than Jacaerys or Baela had asked for their separation. Yet, here you were, caught in the middle of their lingering emotions and unspoken regrets.

—————

The following weeks unfolded in a haze of polite interactions and strained attempts at forging connections. You accompanied Jacaerys to meetings and gatherings, each moment underscored by the awkward tension that hung between you. His gaze, when it met yours, was distant and guarded, a far cry from the warmth you had hoped to find.

Meanwhile, Baela remained a steady presence in your life. She showed you the hidden corners of Dragonstone, regaled you with stories of its history, and offered quiet words of encouragement when doubt threatened to consume you. Her kindness was a lifeline amidst the uncertainty that gripped your heart.

Still, you couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider in your own betrothal. Every smile from Jacaerys felt forced, every conversation a careful dance around the unspoken truths that loomed between you. You wondered if he saw you as a reminder of what could have been, or if he simply saw you at all.

Jace and Baela kept their distance, exchanging lingering stares, finding comfort in each other but maintaining their bond as a friendship, an impossible love threatened by duty.

You felt like a young girl with a crush on a soldier, as Rhaena and Baela attempted to bring Jacaerys closer to you. Yet, it ate at you that Baela tried to conceal her own feelings to prioritize yours and Jace's.

You found solace in unexpected places. Young Joffrey had taken to following you around the castle, bombarding you with questions about the Vale and begging for horse-riding lessons. His innocent enthusiasm was a balm to your troubled heart, and you found yourself looking forward to the time you spent with him.

One crisp morning, as you were brushing down your horse in the stables, Joffrey came bounding in, his face flushed with excitement.

"Please!" he called out, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste as he ran little steps towards you. He joined his hands in a plea. "Can we go riding today? Please?"

You couldn't help but smile at his eagerness.

Jace watched from the courtyard. His expression was unreadable, but for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something in his eyes – curiosity, perhaps, or a hint of softness.

The moment passed quickly as he turned away, leaving you to wonder if you had imagined it. Pushing the thought aside, you focused on guiding Joffrey through his riding lesson. With a hand on his lower back, holding his upwards, and another holding onto the leather leash, you guided the excited child through the gardens.

As you guided Joffrey's pony through the gardens, the younger prince's laughter filled the air.

"Look!" Joffrey exclaimed, pointing excitedly at a butterfly fluttering past. "Can we chase it?"

You chuckled, gently reining in his excitement. "Remember, my prince, we must always be gentle with creatures smaller than us. Let's watch it instead, shall we?"

As you stood there, Joffrey perched atop his pony and you by his side, observing the delicate dance of the butterfly, you felt a presence behind you. Turning slightly, you saw Jacaerys approaching, his steps hesitant but purposeful.

"Having fun, Joff?" he asked, ruffling his younger brother's hair affectionately.

Joffrey beamed at his older brother, reaching to hold his hand, almost tumbling off of the animal’s loin. "She is teaching me to ride, Jace! She says I'll be as good as you one day!"

A small smile tugged at Jacaerys's lips. "Is that so?" He turned his gaze to you, something unreadable in his eyes. "You're good with him."

You felt a warmth creep into your cheeks at his words. "He makes it easy," you replied softly. "He's a quick learner."

Joffrey huffed as he tugged on the leather leash in your hands, “When will I be allowed to ride on my own?”

Jace let out a soft laugh, the sound unexpected and somehow comforting. "In time, Joff. You need to master the basics first."

The younger boy pouted but didn't argue, his attention quickly drawn back to the butterfly that had settled on a nearby flower.

You looked at Jacaerys, noticing the shadows under his eyes, the lines of stress etched into his handsome features. The brief moments of kindness he had shown you lately had been few and far between, but they gave you a glimmer of hope.

"Would you like to join us?" you asked tentatively, unsure of how he would respond.

Jacaerys hesitated, glancing between you and Joffrey. Finally, he nodded, a small, reluctant smile on his lips. "I could use a break from all the meetings."

As the three of you walked through the gardens, the tension between you and Jacaerys seemed to ease, replaced by a tentative camaraderie. Joffrey chattered on about the lessons you had been giving him, his enthusiasm infectious.

You caught Jacaerys stealing glances at you, his expression softer than you had ever seen it. It was as if the presence of his younger brother had created a bridge between you, allowing him to lower his guard just a little.

Sadly, he’d stayed quiet the whole time, only nodding along and responding to his brother’s enthusiasm.

For a moment, the three of you stood there in comfortable silence, watching as Joffrey tentatively guided his pony a few steps forward. You fixed your skirts, arms dropping to your side as the small prince struggled to get down from the pony, refusing to get any help. Then, to your surprise, Jacaerys spoke again.

"I... I was wondering if you might like to join me for a ride later," he said, his voice low enough that Joffrey couldn't hear. "There's a cove on the far side of the island that's quite beautiful at night."

Your heart skipped a beat at his invitation. "I'd like that," you replied, offering him a small smile.

As Jacaerys nodded and turned to leave, you caught sight of Baela watching from a nearby balcony. Her expression turned into a supportive smile when she noticed your gaze. The guilt that had become your constant companion surged once more.

Later that evening, as you prepared for your ride with Jacaerys, Baela appeared at your chamber door.

"Here," she said, holding out a cloak with a smile. "The winds can be fierce near the cove. You'll need this."

As you accepted the cloak, your fingers brushed hers. "Baela," you began, your voice thick with emotion. "I–"

She shook her head, cutting you off. "Don't," she said softly. “Jace is trying, give him a chance."

“Baela,” you began again, your voice softer this time, “I just don’t want to hurt you more than I already have. I’m trying to understand where we all fit into this... tangled mess.”

She shook her head, “I feel no pain if you and Jace are well.”

"But I don't want you to feel like you're losing something," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Baela's expression softened, a small, sad smile gracing her lips. "Jace and I... we were a dream of what could have been. But dreams change. Life moves on, and so must we. I can't hold onto something that was never meant to be."

You nodded, feeling a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. "Thank you," you whispered, unable to find the words to express the depth of your appreciation.

Baela squeezed your hand one last time before letting go. "Go," she urged. "Don't keep him waiting."

With a heavy heart, you draped the cloak around your shoulders and made your way to the stables where Jacaerys was waiting. The night air was cool and crisp, just like Baela had said, the stars twinkling like distant beacons of hope in the inky sky.

Jacaerys stood by his horse, his figure silhouetted against the faint light of the torches. His expression was thoughtful, almost pensive, as he glanced up at the sky. When he noticed your approach, his eyes softened slightly, almost as if he had been trying to get his mind ready.

The moonlight cast a silver sheen on his dark hair, lending him an almost ethereal quality.

“I forgot to tell you to get a cloak,” he said, quickly noticing the cloth that covered your body, “you must have read my mind."

"Baela thought of it," you replied, mounting your horse. Jacaerys tried to hide the frown that appeared on his face for a second. The saddle creaked beneath you, and you patted the horse's neck, feeling its warmth through the leather gloves.

Why would Baela want to push him into another woman’s arms? The question echoed in his mind, gnawing at his thoughts like a persistent itch.

Jacaerys’s thoughts churned beneath his calm exterior. Why was Baela so insistent on pushing him toward you? He glanced sideways at you, taking in the soft glow of the moonlight on your face, the way you seemed lost in your own thoughts. There was a delicate vulnerability about you, a quiet strength that he couldn’t quite grasp.

You rode in silence for a while, the rhythmic clopping of hooves and the distant roar of the sea the only sounds breaking the night.

His gaze flickered over to you again. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he noticed your serene demeanor, your focus entirely on the path ahead. He couldn’t deny that there was something about you that stirred a part of him he thought was long dormant – a hope for something genuine amidst the political maneuvering and familial obligations.

Breaking the silence, Jacaerys spoke, his voice carrying a note of curiosity he couldn’t completely mask. “You seem at ease. Is the ride helping you clear your mind?”

You glanced over at him, the soft glow from your lantern casting a gentle light on your face. “It is,” you said, offering a small, genuine smile. “I don’t have siblings, like you do. I didn’t have much to be entertained by, growing up. I found solace in rides like this”

Jacaerys nodded, his curiosity piqued. "What else did you do to pass the time?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.

You chuckled, a hint of mischief in your eyes. "I used to sneak out to watch the soldiers train in the courtyard."

Jacaerys raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Is that so?"

You nodded, warming to the subject. "Oh yes. When I was too bored to read I would hide behind the barrels near the training yard and watch the men practice their swordplay."

"Did you ever try it yourself?" Jacaerys asked, genuine interest in his voice.

You laughed softly. "I did, actually. I'd sneak a wooden practice sword from the armory and try to mimic their movements in secret. I must have looked ridiculous, flailing about in my chambers."

Jacaerys let out a low chuckle, the sound warming you more than the cloak around your shoulders. "I can picture it," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Did you ever get caught?"

"Once," you admitted, a blush creeping into your cheeks. "My father walked in just as I was attempting a particularly dramatic lunge. I nearly toppled into my dressing table."

Jacaerys laughed outright at that, the sound echoing in the night air. It was the first time you'd heard him laugh so freely, and the sound made your heart skip a beat.

"What did your father say?" he asked, still smiling.

You sighed dramatically, "He was scandalized, of course. Grounded me from sneaking past the courtyard for life.”

As your horses ambled along the moonlit path, Jacaerys's laughter subsided into a warm smile. You loved the sound, you realized, not having heard it often because of you, moreso because of his family.

"Well, if you're still interested in watching swordplay, you're welcome to observe our training sessions here on Dragonstone. No need for sneaking or hiding behind barrels."

You felt a flutter of excitement at his offer. "Really? You wouldn't mind?"

Jacaerys shook his head, his expression softening. "Not at all. In fact, I think the men here might appreciate having an audience. It tends to make them show off a bit more."

You chuckled, feeling more at ease than you had in weeks. "I'd like that very much. Thank you, Jacaerys."

He nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that hadn't been there before.

As the path curved towards the cove, the moonlight bathed the landscape in a silvery glow. The sea's rhythmic waves against the rocky shore provided a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. Jacaerys's earlier curiosity about Baela's motives still lingered in his mind, but for now, he chose to focus on the present moment. There would be time to unravel those thoughts later.

“Um…” you started, unsure whether your question was intrusive or not, Jace’s head turned to look at you again.

“Yes?”

“I was wondering… about the dragons,”

Jacaerys's eyes lit up with interest at the mention of dragons. "What would you like to know?" he asked.

“I’ve never seen one up-close.” you felt rather embarrassed as your cheeks flushed, quickly turning your head to look ahead of you as Jacaerys bit back a smile. “Would you like to?”

Your heart quickened at his question, and you met his gaze, your excitement barely contained. "I would love to," you replied, unable to hide the enthusiasm in your voice.

Jacaerys smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "Then it's settled. We'll visit the dragon pit tomorrow. I’ll introduce you to Vermax."

The path towards the cove became narrower, the sea breeze carrying a salty tang that invigorated your senses. Jacaerys's expression held a mixture of amusement and anticipation, the weight of the earlier conversation lifting slightly.

As the cove came into view, bathed in the soft glow of the moon, Jacaerys turned to you, his eyes reflecting the silvery light. "Vermax hatched when I was just a baby," he began, his voice taking on a more personal tone. “We grew together. I am sure he will be kind to you.”

The connection he described stirred something within you. You felt a growing sense of anticipation for the meeting with Vermax, your excitement mingling with a hint of nervousness at the thought of standing near a dragon.

As you reached the edge of the cove, the waves crashed gently against the shore, their rhythmic sound creating a soothing backdrop. You dismounted your horses, your boots sinking slightly into the soft sand. The moonlight cast a silvery sheen over everything, making the scene almost magical.

Even after having spent long in Dragonstone, the cold breeze still hadn’t made peace with you, you held the cloak tighter to your body in hopes of warmth. The chill seemed to seep through the layers, but the beauty of the cove and the company beside you provided a warmth of their own.

Jacaerys led you to a rocky outcrop, a perfect vantage point from which to watch the waves crash and froth against the shoreline. His hand was holding the sleeve of your cloak as he walked you, not ready to hold your hand just yet, Baela still somehow present in his thoughts.

Jace’s gaze was fixed on the horizon, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. He seemed lost in thought, the earlier conversation about Vermax fading into the backdrop as he wrestled with his own internal conflicts. You could sense the weight of Baela's memory lingering in his mind, an echo of feelings that he was trying to reconcile with the present.

He turned to you, his expression softening. “It’s a beautiful spot, isn’t it? I’ve always found it calming here, away from everything else.”

You hummed, hands going back to pressing the cloak against your shivering body, regretting not having worn more skirts for the night. “It’s beautiful.”

A small smile touched Jacaerys’s lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He seemed to be searching for the right words, his usual guarded demeanor giving way to a more introspective side.

“Are you cold?”

“A little, yes. I should’ve worn a thicker dress.”

Jacaerys’s eyes flickered with concern as he took in your shivering form, the chill of the night evidently seeping through your cloak. The warmth of his earlier smile faded into a more serious expression.

“Come with me.” he said, his voice soft with empathy.

He guided you away from the edge of the cove, leading you towards a more sheltered spot further inland. The sea breeze, though still present, seemed to lose its bite as you moved away from the open shore.

As you walked, Jacaerys began to explain. “The rocks here are a bit more protected from the wind, and they get the heat from the sun during the day, it retains some warmth even at night.”

You followed him, hopeful by the promise of warmth. The path became less rugged and more stable, leading to a small, secluded nook nestled between two large boulders.

Jacaerys gestured towards the alcove with a reassuring nod. “This spot should be much warmer. It’s better than standing out in the open.”

You stepped into the alcove, trailing behind him, feeling a noticeable difference in temperature. The wind’s bite was indeed diminished, and the moss underfoot felt soothing against your tired feet. The warmth was a welcome relief, and you sighed contentedly as you settled into the corner of the nook.

Jacaerys took a seat beside you, maintaining a respectful distance but close enough to share the modest warmth of the alcove. His gaze softened as he looked at you, his earlier concerns about the chill replaced by a more focused attentiveness.

"Do you miss your home?" Jacaerys asked, breaking the silence, his voice gentle.

You considered his question, your gaze fixed on the horizon. "Sometimes," you admitted. "But I've got good company here."

Jacaerys studied you for a moment, his gaze contemplative. The alcove, with its comforting warmth and shielded position, seemed to offer a haven for both of you – a temporary retreat from the complexities of the world outside.

A faint smile tugged at Jacaerys’s lips as he broke the silence. “Joffrey’s obsessed with you, you know?”

You looked at him, curiosity piqued with a laugh. “Is he?”

Jacaerys nodded, his fingers absently brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “He always talks about you.”

“He’s rather taken with you, I would think.”

You laughed, the sound bright and genuine in the quiet of the alcove. “He’s a very kind child.”

Jacaerys nodded, his expression warm and approving. “He’s always full of stories about you – how kind you are, how brave you seem. It’s quite endearing, really.”

A smile tugged at your lips, “That’s sweet of him.”

There was a comfortable silence between you, the warmth of the alcove cocooning you both in its gentle embrace. The night outside seemed distant, its chill muted by the sanctuary you’d found together.

Jacaerys broke the silence once more, bringing his knees to his chest and staring ahead at the sea. “Baela’s been kind to you,” you couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement so you simply nodded.

“Very, she’s been really welcoming to me,” you replied, trying to match the sincerity of his tone. “I appreciate her kindness more than I can express.”

Jacaerys sighed softly, the sound barely audible above the distant crash of waves.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments, the warmth of the alcove creating a peaceful setting around you.

Jacaerys’s mention of Baela lingered between you like a delicate echo, and you could see the concern in his eyes. His gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon, but it was clear he was wrestling with his own emotions.

“You’ve been a good friend to her since you arrived,” Jacaerys said again, his voice soft but edged with a tinge of regret. “I appreciate that more than you know.”

The sincerity of his words struck a chord, and though you had tried to offer comfort, the mention of Baela’s hurt still gnawed at you. You understood that Jacaerys’s feelings were complex, his history with Baela casting a long shadow over the present.

You searched for something comforting to say, but the silence that followed was soothing in its own way.

Jacaerys shifted slightly, his eyes softening as he glanced at you. “Sometimes it’s hard to balance past connections with the present. I suppose I’ve been struggling with that lately. For that, I apologize.”

“It’s never easy to reconcile what was with what is. I imagine it must be even harder when you care about the people involved.”

He nodded, a wistful smile touching his lips. “You are to be my wife.”

Jace’s admission hung in the air like a fragile, unspoken promise. His gaze held yours, his eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and resolve that seemed to shimmer in the soft moonlight. The mention of your forthcoming union brought a new layer of gravity to the conversation, the implications settling heavily between you.

“I know,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Despite the complexities of… my past betrothal, my commitment to you is sincere. I promise to give you a happy marriage. I want to give you a future where you feel valued, cherished, and at peace. As any wife should.”

His words carried a gravity that made your heart flutter. The sincerity in his eyes, combined with the warmth of the alcove, created a moment of shared hope and promise.

Neither of you spoke until the breeze caught up to the warmer spot, indicating the deep hours of the night. “We shall get back. I wouldn’t want you to catch a chill.” he mumbled.

You nodded, the thought of returning to the comfort of the castle appealing after the night’s lingering cold. The promise of a future together still resonated within you, a beacon of warmth amidst the crisp night air.

Jacaerys rose smoothly, offering you a hand as you stood. The gesture was simple but meaningful, a small act of support that spoke volumes to you. His hand was warm against yours, a comforting presence as you prepared to return to the castle.

Together, you made your way out of the alcove, the cool night air greeting you with a gentle caress as you retraced your steps back to the horses.

The path to the castle was bathed in the soft light of dawn, the horizon beginning to glow with the first hints of morning. He led the way, his presence a reassuring constant beside you as the path darkened, the night making it harder to see.

Jace offered to guard both of your horses back, while you prepared for your chambers.

As you stepped inside, a lively chatter greeted you, echoing through the stone corridors. Baela and Rhaena, vibrant and full of energy, were waiting for you near the entrance hall. Their faces lit up with excitement, their eyes sparkling with curiosity as they spotted you approaching.

“There you are!” Baela exclaimed, her voice bright and cheerful. She hurried towards you, followed closely by Rhaena, who wore an equally eager expression.

“You’ve been out almost all night,” Rhaena added, her tone filled with a mix of teasing and genuine interest.

“We took a stroll to the cove,” you said. “It was a peaceful night. We talked, and enjoyed the quiet. It was... pleasant.”

Baela and Rhaena listened intently, their expressions shifting from anticipation to satisfaction. Baela’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she nudged you gently. “I hope Jacaerys was a good companion. We wouldn’t want you to think poorly of Dragonstone just because of a chilly night.”

You chuckled, feeling a blush of warmth spread across your cheeks at the attention. “He was,”

As you walked towards your chamber’s doors, Baela’s excitement seemed almost infectious. Yet, despite the outward cheer, you couldn’t shake a lingering uncertainty. Baela’s reactions were hard to read.

She turned to you with a smile that seemed almost too perfect. “I’m glad you had a good night, it is important for you two to spend time together.”

Her words were kind, but the subtext felt layered. You couldn’t tell if she was giving her blessing wholeheartedly or if she was still processing her own feelings about Jacaerys. The complexity of their shared past, intertwined with the new future you were all stepping into, made the situation delicate.

As you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it, letting out a long breath. The night had been full of unexpected moments and conflicting emotions. Jacaerys's promise of a happy marriage still echoed in your mind, filling you with hope. Yet, the sadness you'd glimpsed in Baela's eyes reminded you of the complicated web of relationships you'd stepped into.

You changed into your nightgown and slipped into bed, your mind whirling with thoughts of moonlit coves, dragon pits, and the promise of a future yet to unfold.

—————

The next morning dawned bright and clear, the sun's rays streaming through your window and gently rousing you from sleep. As you blinked awake, the events of the previous night came flooding back – the moonlit ride, the intimate conversation with Jacaerys in the alcove, and the promise of meeting Vermax today.

A mix of excitement and nervousness fluttered in your stomach as you rose and began to prepare for the day. You chose a sturdy riding dress, practical yet flattering, and braided your hair to keep it out of your face. As you fastened a cloak around your shoulders, a soft knock sounded at your door.

"Come in," you called, expecting to see one of the handmaids.

Instead, it was Jacaerys who entered, looking slightly hesitant but with a warm smile on his face. His day clothes were already on, a red cape falling from his shoulders.

"Good morrow," he said softly. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Not at all," you replied, your heart skipping a beat at his unexpected presence, fingers struggling to tie the cloak’s strings, too focused on him. "I was just getting ready for the day."

Jacaerys nodded, his eyes taking in your attire. “Need help?" he asked.

You nodded, grateful for the assistance. Jacaerys stepped closer, his fingers deftly working on the cloak's fastenings. The proximity sent a shiver down your spine, and you caught a hint of his scent – a mixture of leather and something uniquely him.

"There," he said softly, stepping back once the cloak was secured. His eyes met yours, a hint of warmth in their depths.

"I thought perhaps we could break our fast together before we go, if you're amenable?"

His thoughtfulness touched you, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. "I'd like that very much," you said with a smile.

As you walked together to the great hall, you couldn't help but notice the change in Jacaerys's demeanor. He seemed more relaxed in your presence, the tension that had marked your earlier interactions noticeably diminished.

The great hall was relatively quiet, with only a few early risers scattered about. Jacaerys led you to a small table near one of the windows, where a spread of fresh bread, fruits, and warm porridge awaited.

"I hope this is to your liking," he said, pulling out a chair for you. "I wasn't sure of your preferences, so I asked for a variety. I hope it isn’t too much."

You sat down, touched by his consideration. "It looks wonderful, thank you."

As you began to eat, a comfortable silence settled between you. Jacaerys seemed lost in thought, his gaze occasionally drifting to the window and the view of the dragon pit in the distance.

"Are you nervous about meeting Vermax?" he asked suddenly, his eyes focusing back on you.

You considered the question, taking a sip of warm tea before answering. "A little," you admitted. "I've never been this close to a dragon before. But I'm more excited than nervous, I think."

Jacaerys smiled, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Vermax can sense emotions, he'll know if you're afraid, but if you remain calm he will be as well."

You nodded, absorbing his words. "I'll do my best to stay calm," you promised. "And I truly am looking forward to meeting him."

Something softened in Jacaerys's expression at your words. He reached across the table, his hand coming to rest lightly on yours. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and you found yourself lost in his gaze for a moment. The connection between you felt stronger, a fragile bridge being built with each shared moment.

As you finished your meal, Jacaerys stood, offering you his hand. "Shall we?" he asked, a hint of excitement in his voice.

You took his hand, feeling the strength and warmth of his grip. "Lead the way," you said with a smile.

As you made your way through the castle corridors, Jacaerys walking beside you, you couldn't help but notice the curious glances from passing servants and courtiers. It was clear that your outing the previous night had not gone unnoticed, and you felt a flutter of self-consciousness.

Jacaerys seemed to sense your discomfort. "Pay them no mind," he said quietly, his hand briefly touching the small of your back in a gesture of support. "They'll have something new to gossip about by midday."

His touch, though fleeting, sent a warmth through you that lingered even as you stepped out into the crisp morning air. The dragon pit loomed before you, an imposing structure that seemed to dwarf everything around it.

As you approached, you could hear the low rumbles and occasional screeches of the dragons within. Your steps faltered slightly, and Jacaerys paused, turning to face you.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

You nodded, forcing a smile. "Just a bit nervous," you admitted.

Jacaerys's expression softened. "It's natural to be nervous," he said. "But Vermax is kind, do not fret."

As you entered the dragon pit, the air grew warmer, filled with the scent of smoke and something distinctly reptilian. Jacaerys led you towards a large pen, where a magnificent creature lay curled up, its scales shimmering in the dim light.

"Vermax," Jacaerys called softly, his voice filled with affection.

The dragon stirred, raising its massive head. Its eyes, intelligent and piercing, fixed upon you, and you felt a moment of panic. But then Jacaerys's hand found yours, squeezing gently in reassurance.

"It's alright," he murmured. "Just breathe. Let him get used to your scent."

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain still as Vermax's nostrils flared, taking in your scent. After what felt like an eternity, the dragon let out a low rumble that sounded almost... approving?

Jacaerys smiled, his face lighting up with pride. "He likes you," he said, his voice filled with warmth. "Would you like to touch him?"

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Is that... safe?"

Jacaerys nodded in a chuckle, gently guiding your hand forward. "Just here, along his neck. His scales are warm."

He mumbled words – commands – in High Valyrian, a language that you did not quite understand. As Jacaerys's gentle voice wove through the ancient words, you felt a strange calm wash over you. His hand steadied yours, guiding it towards Vermax's neck. The dragon’s scales were warm, surprisingly smooth, and a thrill of awe coursed through you at the touch.

Vermax's gaze remained fixed on you, but there was no malice in it, only curiosity. Your hand moved slowly, feeling the powerful muscles beneath the creature's skin. The dragon emitted a low, contented rumble, and Jace's smile grew wider.

With trembling fingers, you reached out, gasping softly as your hand made contact with Vermax's humid and warm scales. They were indeed warm, and smoother than you had expected. The dragon rumbled again, the sound reverberating through your entire body.

“There we go,” Jacaerys murmured, watching as Vermax responded to your gentle touch with a low, rumbling purr. It was like nothing you’d ever heard before – a deep resonance that seemed to echo within your very bones. The dragon's presence was overwhelming, a creature of immense power and grace. Yet here, in this moment, it seemed almost… gentle.

Jacaerys stood close beside you, his hand still lightly covering yours, offering reassurance through the contact. The dragon pit was quiet, save for the occasional shifting of massive limbs and the rustling of scales as Vermax settled more comfortably under your touch. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and warm metal, an atmosphere charged with both mystery and excitement.

"He's magnificent," you breathed, unable to tear your eyes away from the dragon's gleaming eyes, which seemed to hold a world of secrets within them.

Jacaerys watched you, his eyes soft with an emotion you couldn't quite name. "He trusts you," he said quietly.

He marveled at how quickly Vermax had accepted you, a bond forming almost instantly. In his experience, dragons were fiercely independent creatures, wary of strangers and cautious around those they did not know. The ease with which Vermax had welcomed you was rare, a testament to something intangible that Jacaerys could sense but not quite articulate.

Jacaerys had seen many attempts to win a dragon's favor and fail; it was a delicate dance of trust and mutual respect, often requiring patience and time. Yet here you were, a newcomer to Dragonstone, and Vermax was already responding to you with a gentleness that belied his formidable nature.

Vermax cooed, his big eyes closing as you ran your hand over his scales, Jace’s cautiously hovering over.

"He really does like you," Jacaerys said, a note of wonder in his voice. "I've never seen him take to someone so quickly."

You looked up at Jacaerys, a smile spreading across your face. "Is that unusual?"

He nodded, his eyes moving between you and Vermax. "Dragons are... particular about who they allow near them. It took some of our most experienced dragon keepers months to gain Vermax's trust to this degree."

A warmth spread through your chest at his words, you turned back to Vermax, continuing to stroke his green scales gently. "Thank you for trusting me," you whispered to the dragon.

Vermax rumbled again, the sound almost like a purr. Jacaerys chuckled softly.

"Does he understand?” you asked.

"To some extent, yes. He senses your sincerity."

You nodded, absorbing this. The dragon's massive head lowered slightly, its eyes fluttering shut as if enjoying the sensation of your touch. Vermax's breaths came in slow, rhythmic pulses, and you found yourself mirroring them, a sense of calm washing over you.

“He’s like a pup,” you said, a smile creeping to your face.

Jacaerys’s laughter was soft, a warm, gentle sound that seemed to blend seamlessly with the low rumbling of Vermax. “That’s a charming way to put it.”

You hummed a laugh, eyes focusing on the beast that grumbled beneath your hand. “Look,” Jace said, pressing his palm against yours to apply more pressure on the dragon’s neck. He moved both of your hands up to the back of the ear, you on your tiptoes as Vermax moved his head down, welcoming the touch.

Jacaerys applied pressure once again, and the dragon tilted its head, eyes half-closed in a state of pure contentment.

Jace smiled at the sight, his eyes reflecting a mixture of pride and affection. “He truly enjoys this,” he said, his voice a gentle murmur.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. You turned to see Baela entering the dragon pit, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of you and Jacaerys.

She stood near the entrance, her gaze moving from you to Jacaerys and then to Vermax. There was a moment of awkward silence as her eyes took in the intimate scene – you, with your hand resting on the dragon’s neck, Jacaerys close beside you.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, surprised to have found somebody in the dragon pit, usually only the keepers being there. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

Jacaerys’s posture stiffened, his expression slipping into a mask of polite neutrality. He took a step back, his hand reluctantly withdrawing from yours. The warmth of his touch, which had felt so reassuring moments before, was now a memory of something he seemed to regret.

“You’re not interrupting,” he said, his voice measured, betraying none of the emotions that seemed to ripple just beneath the surface. “We were just… introducing her to Vermax.”

Baela’s eyes flickered to Jacaerys, and for a moment, the weight of their shared history seemed to press down on the space between the three of you. The warmth in Jacaerys’s expression was gone, replaced by a hint of discomfort, as if he were grappling with a conflict of emotions.

Baela cleared her throat, attempting to bridge the gap. “I came to check on Moondancer and make sure she’s comfortable. I didn’t realize you’d be here.”

Jacaerys shifted uncomfortably, the strain of his previous joy now visible in the tight set of his shoulders. “I should–” he began, but the words seemed to falter. He cleared his throat and straightened, trying to regain his composure.

“I should let you be. I’ve taken up enough of your time.” Jace offered a polite, albeit slightly strained, smile as he turned towards you. His eyes held a flicker of something unreadable, a mixture of resignation and lingering affection. "I should take my leave," he said softly, his voice carrying a note of finality.

You nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment at the abrupt change in mood. "Thank you for introducing me to him," you said, your voice sincere.

Jacaerys’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, a fleeting smile touching his lips before he turned to Baela. "I hope the rest of the day treats you both well."

Baela's expression softened as she watched Jacaerys retreat towards the entrance. As he walked away, the tension in the dragon pit seemed to dissipate, replaced by an air of quiet contentment.

After a beat of silence, she spoke, breaking the awkward moment. Baela’s gaze softened as she approached you, her initial surprise melting into genuine warmth. “I’m truly sorry for intruding,” she said, her tone sincere. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You smiled softly at Baela, trying to ease the lingering tension in the air. "It's alright, truly. You weren't intruding at all."

Baela approached, her eyes drifting to Vermax, who was still rumbling contentedly. "He seems to have taken a liking to you," she observed, a hint of admiration in her voice.

You glanced back at the dragon, feeling a mixture of awe and affection. "Jacaerys was kind enough to introduce us. I've never been this close to a dragon before, I’m quite nervous."

Baela chuckled softly, her laughter a soothing balm that eased your nerves. “That’s completely understandable,” she said. “The first time I was near Moondancer, I was shaking like a leaf. Dragons can be intimidating. But you handled it with such grace; Vermax is usually more reserved.”

Her words felt like a quiet reassurance, a bridge between your anxieties and the reality of the moment. You could see the sincerity in her eyes, the genuine appreciation she held for this small triumph. It was as if she, too, was celebrating the bond that was beginning to form.

“Jace must have really taken to you,” Baela continued, her eyes twinkling with a knowing smile.

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at Baela's words, a mixture of pride and embarrassment flushing your cheeks. "He's been very patient with me," you admitted, your eyes drifting back to where Jacaerys had disappeared. "I'm grateful for his kindness."

Baela nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "He's got a gentle touch, that one."

You found yourself curious about the history between Baela and Jacaerys, but hesitated to pry. Instead, you turned your attention back to Vermax, who was still rumbling contentedly nearby.

A gentle breeze stirred the air in the dragon pit, carrying with it the mingled scents of smoke and dragonhide. You watched as Vermax shifted slightly, his massive tail curling around him in a relaxed pose. The dragon’s contentment was palpable, a testament to the bond forming between you and the creature.

Baela cleared her throat, breaking the tranquil moment. “I should get going to check on Moondancer,” she said, her tone light and cheerful. “I will see you later? For our midday meal.”

You nodded, eyes trailing after her as she walked away from you. The moment with Jacaerys had been special, filled with a blend of tenderness and excitement. His departure had left a lingering sense of something unfinished, a space where his presence had been warm and reassuring. Now, as you stood alone with Vermax, you felt a pang of longing for the ease and connection you’d shared moments before.

You glanced towards the entrance of the dragon pit. Vermax rumbled again, a sound that felt almost like a fond farewell as you turned to leave.

—————

Days drifted by, each day settling into a rhythm that felt both comforting and, at times, monotonous. Driven by a restless energy, you found yourself drawn to the training yard one afternoon, eager for a distraction from the sameness of your daily routine.

Your eyes were drawn to the center of the yard when you arrived, settling to stand nearby. You watched as knights clashed their swords, a few of them sharpening them and others simply training. Finally, your attention drifted to the grunts and louder sharp sounds that echoed in the air, Jacaerys wore a makeshift armor, only covering his chest and part of his legs as he aimed for the man before him.

There was something different about Jace. His movements were charged with an almost palpable frustration, each strike of his blade carrying a weight of unspoken anger. You watched, entranced and a little concerned, as he danced with his partner, his footwork sure and purposeful.

But then, in a moment that seemed to unfold in slow motion, Jacaerys overreached. The blade slipped from his grasp and turned against him, biting into the flesh of his hand with a viciousness that made you wince. The clang of the sword hitting the ground was like a thunderclap in the sudden silence that followed, every eye in the yard drawn to the prince’s moment of vulnerability.

It wasn't until Jacaerys stumbled back, his sword clattering to the ground, that you realized what had happened.

Jacaerys grimaced, the pain evident in the way he cradled his injured hand. Blood trickled down his fingers, a stark crimson against his pale skin. You felt a sharp pang of concern, your instincts urging you to go to him, to offer aid.

"Your Grace!" The knight exclaimed, rushing forward as Jacaerys clutched his hand to his chest.

“Stay back.” Jace ordered, a grunt leaving his lips again as he looked down at his bloodied hand. The knight looked around, unsure of what to do.

You watched as Jacaerys waved off the knight, the young prince's eyes blazing with a mix of embarrassment and anger. It was clear that the pain was secondary to the frustration that now simmered beneath his skin, a potent mix of pride and self-reproach that made him bristle at the attention.

He stood, still cradling his hand, and straightened his posture, his expression hardening into one of determination. He nodded at the knights who had turned to look at him, his voice steady despite the obvious pain. “Back to your swords.”

The command seemed to snap the knights out of their shock, and they quickly resumed their practice, the sounds of clashing blades filling the air once more. Jacaerys remained where he was, his breath coming in sharp bursts as he fought to regain his composure.

You hesitated for a moment, torn between respecting his pride and offering the help he clearly needed. But the sight of his bloodied hand, coupled with the raw frustration etched across his features, propelled you forward. You approached him slowly, your footsteps deliberate and unthreatening.

"Jacaerys," you said softly, your voice barely rising above the din of the training yard. He turned to look at you, his eyes meeting yours. There was a distance in his gaze, a barrier that seemed to rise between you, but you pressed on, determined to offer whatever solace you could.

"Let me help you," you offered gently, gesturing to his injured hand. The words hung in the air between you, a lifeline extended across the chasm of his pride.

For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, his gaze dropping to his hand, the blood now drying against his skin.

"I don't need help," Jacaerys said, his voice clipped and guarded.

"Let me see."

Jacaerys' jaw tightened, a flicker of frustration passing across his features before he sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. He seemed to weigh your words, the conflict evident in his eyes as he considered your offer.

Finally, with a reluctant nod, he extended his injured hand toward you. He avoided looking at you as you held his wrist, moving him to the inside of the castle as blood dripped down his fingers and onto the ground.

As you led him inside the castle, away from the watchful eyes of the knights, Jacaerys' frustration seemed to simmer beneath the surface, an internal tempest he struggled to control. His movements were rigid, his silence heavy with unspoken words.

The frustration that clouded his mind was more than just about the training. It was a culmination of several things – the complexities of his relationship with Baela, the unease and uncertainty that seemed to seep into his days since you arrived, and the pressures of his own expectations. The training had become his escape, a way to channel his pent-up emotions into something tangible, something he could control.

Your presence now was a stark reminder of that inner storm. The sight of you, coming to his aid with a genuine concern that cut through his self-imposed barriers, only intensified his sense of vulnerability. It was as if your intervention had torn down a carefully constructed wall, exposing the raw nerves he had been trying to shield.

Inside the castle, you guided him to a small room, a quiet space away from the clamor of the training yard. The sunlight filtered through a narrow window, casting a soft glow on the stone walls. You set him down on a bench, your movements deliberate as you prepared to tend to his wound.

With a deep breath, you took his hand gently, the blood now congealing into dark patches against his pale skin. As you cleaned the wound, your touch was steady and soothing, a balm to his troubled mind.

Jacaerys watched you in silence, the weight of his frustration palpable in the tight lines of his face. His eyes, though distant at first, began to soften as you worked. Each brush of your fingers against his skin seemed to draw out some of the tension that had gripped him.

Yet, he refused to speak.

The room remained quiet save for the soft rustling of fabric and the gentle flow of water as you cleaned and bandaged his hand.

As you finished bandaging his hand, you met his gaze with a soft, reassuring smile. The simple act of caring for him had forged a connection, bridging the gap created by his frustrations and the barriers he had erected. The walls he had so carefully constructed seemed to crumble, if only slightly, in the face of your genuine compassion.

"All done," you said gently, your voice a soothing murmur in the quiet room.

Jacaerys nodded, the simple gesture carrying a weight of gratitude and acknowledgment. His eyes, though still distant, held a trace of the vulnerability he had tried to shield. Unsure of what to do next, you sat in silence, his bandaged hand still sitting on yours, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of the cloth.

With a sigh, you moved to stand. “I shall take my leave–”

“No.”

You looked at him, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in your eyes. "Is there something else you need?" you asked, your voice gentle and open.

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours as if grappling with something he couldn’t quite articulate. The vulnerability that had surfaced during your care seemed to linger, a delicate thread connecting you both.

For a moment, Jacaerys remained silent, his expression a complex blend of contemplation and unease. It was clear that he was wrestling with the emotions that had surfaced – emotions that he had been trying to keep under control.

Finally, with a deep breath, he spoke. “I just… need a moment. Alone, but not alone. If that makes any sense.”

“I’m not following, Jacaerys.”

“Just… Just stay. Here.”

You studied him for a moment, the sincerity in his eyes and the depth of his request weighing heavily on you. His expression was a blend of vulnerability and longing, a quiet plea for comfort that he could not fully articulate aloud.

With a nod, you settled back into your seat, the minutes ticked by slowly, the only sounds the soft rustling of fabric as he adjusted his position and the occasional sigh that escaped him, each one a testament to the inner battle he was fighting. You watched him with quiet empathy, allowing him the space to navigate his emotions without feeling pressured to fill the silence.

Jacaerys’ gaze drifted out of the window, his eyes lost in thought. The sunlight cast a warm, golden hue over his face, and you couldn’t help but think that he looked beautiful.

You could see the gradual softening of his features, the way his shoulders relaxed a bit more. It was as if the burden he carried had lightened just a fraction, if only because he had someone to share it with, even if only in silence.

Neither of you spoke of it since then, the needed company enough to ease the burden that Jacaerys had been carrying.

—————

Days had passed, marked by the quiet moments of solace you'd been sharing. Jacaerys seemed to carry himself with a bit more ease around you, a small but noticeable shift in his demeanor. Though the castle continued its usual rhythm, with its clattering armor and distant roars of dragons, the moments of companionship between you had become a gentle, sincere bond.

You'd often find yourself drawn to him during those moments. It was as if the space you’d created together in the few months you’d been there had left a mark – a subtle, lingering sense of understanding that hung between you, yet not strong enough to end the awkward moments where Jace’s brain reminded him of Baela, or when he’d get nervous around her still.

Though he didn’t have anybody to speak of it with, Jacaerys felt a stronger care towards you, slowly beginning to accept his duty and where his heart was taking him.

Whether it was through shared meals or the occasional chance meeting in the castle corridors, there was a new layer of connection that seemed to envelop your interactions.

One afternoon, as you wandered the castle grounds, you found yourself in the garden, little Joffrey laid next to you, a serene haven amid the chaos of court life. The sun was beginning its descent, casting a warm, golden light over the flowering beds.

You had come to clear your mind, to find a moment of peace, and the small child had trailed behind you, desperate for some company.

Lost in thought, you almost didn’t notice Jacaerys approaching until he was almost upon you. The soft crunch of gravel beneath his boots alerted you to his presence, and you looked up, a smile forming on your lips as you met his gaze.

Jacaerys’ expression was relaxed, a stark contrast to the intensity you had seen in him before. He glanced at Joffrey, who was now busy examining a particularly vibrant blossom with wide-eyed curiosity.

“Hello,” the kid greeted, your tone warm and welcoming.

“Hello,” Jacaerys replied, his voice carrying a gentle warmth. His eyes flickered briefly to Joffrey before settling back on you. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

You shook your head, the soft rustle of your movement blending with the whisper of the wind through the garden. “Not at all. Joffrey’s just enjoying the flowers.”

Jacaerys paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on the child. With a thoughtful expression and a small smile, he approached and gently placed a hand on Joffrey’s small shoulder. “Joffrey, why don’t you go find Rhaena? I believe she’s somewhere near the training yard.”

Joffrey looked up at him, his expression a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. “But I want to stay with you,” he protested softly.

“You’ll find Rhaena much more interesting,” Jacaerys coaxed, his tone kind but firm. “And I promise I’ll see you soon.”

“Please?”

Jacaerys’ gaze softened as he looked at the little boy. His hand lingered on Joffrey’s shoulder, and you could see the hesitation in his eyes. With a gentle sigh, he turned to you, his expression easing into a more relaxed smile, letting you choose.

“It’s alright,” you said, chuckling. “If Joffrey wishes to stay, then let him. It’s not often we have the chance to simply enjoy the garden.”

Joffrey’s face lit up with a delighted grin, his initial reluctance melting away. He clambered back to his spot next to you, resuming his exploration of the flowers with renewed enthusiasm.

Jacaerys settled onto the ground, leaving his sword behind and nestling next to his brother, his posture relaxed as he observed the scene before him. The child mumbled flower names he’d learned about, picking some up to hold them up to you and Jace in pride.

As the three of you sat in the garden, the atmosphere was filled with a gentle tranquility. Joffrey's innocent enthusiasm for the flowers brought a lightness to the air, his excited chatter a soothing backdrop to the moment.

Jacaerys watched his younger brother with a fondness that softened his features. His eyes, usually guarded, held a warmth that spoke volumes about his love for Joffrey. As the child continued to explore, holding up various blooms for inspection, Jacaerys found his gaze drifting towards you.

There was something different in the way he looked at you now. The tension that had often clouded his expression in your presence seemed to have eased, replaced by a quiet appreciation. It was as if he was seeing you anew, through the lens of your kindness towards your surroundings and the gentle way you interacted with him.

He felt his chest tighten in nervousness as he reached behind his brother, who was too distracted by the flowers in front of him to notice Jacaerys’ hand itching towards yours.

“You seem more at ease,” you remarked gently, the words barely more than a whisper, yet carrying a depth of observation. “How are you finding things lately?”

Jacaerys shrugged a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’m well, I suppose.”

Jace shifted slightly, his fingers still hovering near yours, but he hesitated. His eyes flickered between you and Joffrey, who was now eagerly describing a particularly colorful flower to you with wide, innocent eyes. The child’s chatter filled the space between you, an unwitting barrier that Jacaerys seemed to navigate with care.

He found himself drawn more and more to your presence. The way you listened attentively to his little brother, offering gentle encouragement and genuine interest, stirred something within him. It was a softness he hadn't expected to feel, a warmth that seemed to spread through his chest.

His fingers, still hovering near yours, trembled slightly with indecision. The desire to bridge that final gap, to make that physical connection, warred with the lingering echoes of his past with Baela. But as he watched you smile at Joffrey, your eyes crinkling with genuine affection, Jacaerys felt something shift within him.

Slowly, cautiously, he let his hand move those final few inches. His fingers brushed against yours, a touch so light it could have been mistaken for a breeze. But then, with a surge of courage, he gently covered your hand with his.

The contact sent a jolt through him, a mix of nervousness and excitement that made his heart race. He kept his eyes fixed on Joffrey, afraid to meet your gaze, afraid of what he might see there. But he didn't pull away.

You glanced at him, but his eyes were still focused on Joffrey, though you could see a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

With a final, enthusiastic show of a particularly bright bloom, Joffrey tugged at your sleeve and glanced up at you. “I want to go find Rhaena now,” he said, his small voice tinged with excitement at the prospect of a new adventure.

You looked at him and nodded, smiling at his boundless energy. “She’ll be happy to see you.”

Joffrey beamed, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “I’ll tell her all about the flowers!” he declared, holding up the few flowers that could fit in his palm before scampering off towards the training yard, his laughter and light footsteps fading into the distance.

As the child’s presence disappeared, the garden seemed to settle back into its previous serenity, leaving just you and Jacaerys alone amidst the blooming tranquility.

Jacaerys shifted slightly, his hand still resting gently over yours. He finally allowed his gaze to meet yours. His eyes, now more open and honest, held a hint of the conflicted emotions he had been grappling with.

You could tell something ate at him, had he not wanted to talk about it with his brother present. Gazing at him, you offered a gentle, encouraging smile. “Would you like to talk about what’s troubling you?”

Jacaerys looked away for a moment, his brow furrowing as he struggled with his thoughts. His fingers tightened slightly around yours.

“It’s just…” he began, his voice carrying a hint of frustration. “I’ve been feeling… left out. Disregarded, almost.”

You tilted your head slightly, encouraging him to continue. “How so?”

Jacaerys shifted his position, the tension evident in the way he gripped the grass beneath him. “I feel like my mother… she doesn’t trust me to take on the responsibilities I believe I’m ready for.”

His words came out in a rush, as if the weight of them had been too much to keep contained any longer. “She hasn’t sent me to war, hasn’t allowed me to fly on dragonback to our allies or to attack the Greens. I understand that she wants to protect me, but it feels as though she’s holding me back, not giving me a chance to prove myself.”

You considered his words carefully before responding. "Your mother's caution comes from a place of love, Jace.” you moved to sit closer to him. “The realm is at war, and losing you would be devastating, not just for her."

His brow furrowed, a mix of understanding and lingering frustration evident in his expression. "I know that, but–"

"She's lost so much already," you continued gently. "The thought of losing you too must terrify her."

A flicker of understanding crossed Jacaerys' face. "I hadn't... I mean, I know she worries, but..."

He brought his free hand to his hair, pushing it back before. “I just wish she’d let me act. I only wish to help.”

“It might not feel like it, but sometimes being present and prepared is just as important as taking immediate action.”

He let himself fall back, hand still in yours as he laid on the grass. You settled beside him, keeping a respectful distance but close enough to offer comfort.

"You want to make a difference, Jacaerys," you said softly, your voice blending with the tranquil sounds around you. "That’s a noble desire."

He closed his eyes for a moment, the serene atmosphere providing a brief escape from his inner turmoil. "I want to prove that I’m capable, that I can be trusted with more than just the responsibilities here at the castle."

“I rather like having you here, at the castle.” you admitted, cheeks burning as he turned to face you, you avoided his eyes.

Jacaerys’ gaze lingered on you, and you could feel the warmth of his attention even without looking directly at him. The confession had slipped out before you could fully rein it in, leaving you feeling a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability.

You could see him processing your words, the flicker of surprise in his eyes softening into something more contemplative.

“You like having me here?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. There was a trace of something in his tone – curiosity, perhaps, or a tentative hope.

You nodded, still avoiding his gaze as you looked out at the blooming flowers. “Yes. Your presence here has been… comforting.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he almost whispered, “I like having you here, too.”

The realization that had begun to dawn upon him – the understanding of his feelings and the recognition of your presence as something deeply significant – seemed to transform the way he’d been looking at you.

His eyes traced the contours of your face with a mix of awe and realization, as if seeing you in a light that was both startling and illuminating. The intensity of his stare spoke of a shift in his heart, a transition from the shadow of his past desires to the clarity of his present feelings.

His fingers moved to your wrist, softly caressing the skin as he stared. You felt your heart rate pick up, nervous under his gaze.

The realization that he had been holding back, that his past with Baela had obscured the thought of the potential of something new, seemed to now weigh heavily on him. Yet, despite the tumult of his emotions, there was a serene acceptance in his gaze as he watched you.

Eventually, he was shaken out of his thoughts by one of the handmaids approaching, hands together behind her back. “My prince, your presence is requested at the court.”

Jace’s hand reluctantly slipped from yours as he sat up, the moment of shared vulnerability giving way to the demands of his role. He looked at you, his expression a mix of regret and determination. “I suppose I must attend,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of reluctance.

You gave him a reassuring smile, though your heart felt a pang of disappointment at the interruption. “Of course. Duty calls.”

He rose to his feet, his posture shifting back into the prince’s armor of composure and authority. Yet, there was a softness in his eyes that lingered—a remnant of the moment you’d shared in the garden. He extended a hand to help you up, a gesture that was both courteous and intimate.

As you took his hand, you felt the warmth of his touch and the slight tremor in his fingers. It was as if the brief connection you had shared had made him more aware of your presence, more attuned to the quiet understanding that had passed between you.

“I’ll see you later?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of uncertainty as he looked at you.

You nodded, trying to keep the reassurance in your tone steady. “I’ll be around.”

Jacaerys offered a small, genuine smile before turning towards the handmaid, his demeanor shifting back to the prince of the realm. He followed her down the garden path, his steps more measured, his gaze occasionally turning back to where you stood.

—————

The prince was nowhere to be found. The castle’s usual rhythm was disrupted as whispers of Jacaerys’ disappearance spread through the corridors. The once-familiar sounds of bustling servants and the distant murmur of courtly debates felt suddenly fraught with tension. You moved through the stone halls with a sense of urgency, the weight of concern pressing heavily on your chest.

It had been a restless night after Jacaerys confided in you about his plans. His frustration and the quiet desperation in his voice had painted a vivid picture of a prince caught between duty and desire. He had sneaked past your chambers at midnight and told you, in hushed tones, about his decision to leave the castle in search of allies, to rally forces in favor of his mother’s cause. He begged for it to be kept a secret, for his mother would not allow it if he was found out.

Now, as you scoured the castle, each passing moment felt like a lost opportunity to stop him. You had hoped he’d reconsider, that the gravity of his actions would weigh on him enough to stay, but now the absence of his familiar presence was a stark reminder of his resolve. You felt anxious at the amount of hours he’d been gone, his dragon with him.

As the days passed without any sign of Jacaerys, the castle's atmosphere remained tense, with whispered conversations falling silent as you approached. You couldn't shake the feeling of being an unwilling conspirator in the prince's absence.

To distract yourself from the gnawing worry, you sought out the company of Baela and Rhaena. You spent time with them in the gardens, listening to Baela's spirited tales of dragon-riding and Rhaena's quieter musings on history and lore. Their presence offered a semblance of normalcy in these unsettling times.

As the week drew to a close, you found yourself lying awake in your chambers, your mind racing with possibilities of Jacaerys' fate. The silence of the night was suddenly broken by a commotion in the halls. Heart pounding, you rose and moved towards the door, straining to make sense of the muffled voices and hurried footsteps.

Emerging into the corridor, you were met with a flurry of activity. Servants rushed past, carrying linens and basins of water. The air was thick with tension and an undercurrent of relief. As you made your way towards the source of the disturbance, you overheard fragments of conversation.

"The prince has returned..."

"...wounded, but alive..."

"...flew in on a weak Vermax..."

Your steps quickened as you approached Jacaerys' chambers. The door stood ajar, and you caught glimpses of the prince through the gap. He was seated on the edge of his bed, surrounded by maesters and attendants. His face was pale and drawn, with a bandage visible beneath his torn shirt and a bloodied gash on the side of his face, from his eyebrow to his cheek.

As you hovered uncertainly in the doorway, torn between relief at his return and apprehension about the consequences of his actions, Jacaerys' gaze met yours. He shared a small smile before the door was shut fully.

Hours later, when the halls had once again fallen silent, restlessness clung to you like a second skin. So, when you heard the soft knock at your chamber door, your breath hitched with a mix of relief and apprehension. You recognized Jacaerys’ familiar rhythm: two quick raps, a pause, followed by another. Without hesitation, you moved to open the door, ushering him inside and closing it behind him with a soft click.

“Jace,” you whispered, your voice a blend of concern and gentle reproach. “You should be resting. The maesters–”

“They exaggerate,” he cut in, a wry smile curving his lips. The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, which were shadowed with fatigue. “I can walk just fine, and these”, he gestured vaguely to his face and torso, “are merely flesh wounds. They’ll scar, nothing more.”

You took a long, careful look at him. Despite the bravado in his voice, you could see the toll of the day’s events etched into his features. The weariness was palpable in the way he held himself, slightly hunched as though to shield his injuries from the world. His normally bright eyes seemed dimmed, burdened with an invisible weight that hadn’t been there before he left.

“What happened out there?” you asked softly, guiding him to sit on the edge of your bed. You remained standing, unable to find the calm to settle.

Jacaerys sighed deeply, his hand running through his disheveled hair, pushing it away from his face. He shook his head, the gesture heavy with unspoken frustration and exhaustion.

"It's... a long story," he said, his voice weary. "I wouldn't want to bore you with the details."

You moved closer, your eyes fixed on his face. "Jace, you could never bore me."

He looked up at you, a flicker of gratitude passing across his features. But then he shook his head again, more gently this time. "I appreciate that, truly. But right now... I just need a moment of peace. This past week has been..." He trailed off, seemingly unable to find the words to describe his ordeal.

"And I know that once my mother hears of my return, there will be no escaping her scolding," he added with a rueful smile. "I wanted to see you before that storm breaks."

Your heart softened at his words. You sat down beside him on the bed, careful not to jostle his injuries. "I'm glad you came," you said softly. "I've been worried sick about you."

Jacaerys turned to face you, his eyes searching yours.

“We all have been,” you added. “Baela… your mother…”

A flicker of acknowledgement passed over Jacaerys' face at the mention of Baela, but it lacked the usual undercurrent of pain and longing you'd grown accustomed to seeing. Instead, there was a quiet acceptance in his eyes, as if a weight had been lifted.

"I'm sorry for worrying you all," he said softly, his gaze dropping to his hands.

Jacaerys remained quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on his hands. Though he didn't voice it, the week away had been harder than he'd anticipated, not just because of the physical trials he'd endured. He'd found himself missing your presence more than he'd expected – your counsel, your companionship, the comfort of your familiar face in a sea of uncertainty.

When he'd caught a glimpse of you outside his chambers earlier, a part of him had wanted to dismiss all the fussing maesters immediately. He'd longed to speak with you, to see you, to share the weight of his experiences, to seek solace in your understanding.

His eyes lifted to meet yours again, “What have you been doing in my absence?”

You huffed, fixing your posture and faking a smile. “Queen-to-be training, apparently.”

"Queen-to-be training?" he repeated, his tone a mix of amusement and sympathy. "I can only imagine. Let me guess – the maesters have been relentless?"

You nodded, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. "They were absolutely scandalized when they discovered I hadn't been taught to sew as a child. You'd think I'd committed some grave offense against the realm itself."

He shook his head, still smiling. Jace leaned back slightly, his posture relaxing as he listened to you. Despite his fatigue, he seemed genuinely entertained by your predicament. "And how are you faring with these... essential skills?" he asked, a teasing glint in his eye.

You gave him a playful glare. "I'll have you know, my stitches are only slightly crooked now. Though I fear my embroidered dragons look more like angry lizards."

This elicited another laugh from Jacaerys, louder this time. He quickly pressed a hand to his side, but the smile remained. "Well, I for one would be honored to have a tapestry of angry lizards adorning the castle walls."

You couldn't help but smile at Jacaerys' laughter, even as concern flickered in your eyes when he winced. It was good to see him in lighter spirits, despite his injuries.

"I'm glad you find my struggles amusing, Your Grace," you retorted with mock indignation.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

You couldn't help but smile at his fake offense. "Oh! And apparently, I've been pronouncing 'Targaryen' wrong all this time."

Jacaerys raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Oh? And how have you been saying it?"

You demonstrated, exaggerating your previous pronunciation.

Jacaerys laughed loudly again, shaking his head. "Well, I suppose we can't have a future queen mangling the family name. Though between you and me, I think half the smallfolk say it differently anyway."

The way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the genuine amusement that softened the harsh lines of his face, was a reminder of the boyish prince beneath the layers of duty and exhaustion.

You watched him carefully, your heart aching with a mixture of relief and lingering worry. “You really should rest,” you said gently, reaching out to adjust the bandage on his forehead, which had started to peel from the corner.

His hand came up to cup yours, linking your fingers together as he hesitated. “I suppose I should.”

As if summoned by some mischievous deity, a muffled voice filtered through the heavy chamber doors, shattering the intimate moment. The maester's call, though faint, rang out clearly in the sudden silence: "My prince?"

Jacaerys tensed slightly, his hand tightening around yours for a brief moment before he let out a soft sigh.

"It seems my reprieve was short-lived," he murmured, a note of resignation in his voice.

You both stood, reluctantly letting your hands fall apart. Jacaerys moved towards the door, his movements careful and measured to avoid aggravating his injuries.

The door creaked open to reveal the maester, whose expression was a blend of relief and professional concern. Behind him, the flickering torchlight cast shadows that danced across the walls, adding to the sense of urgency.

“My prince,” the maester began, his gaze flickering to you with a polite nod, “You must rest.”

As he turned to follow the maester, he glanced back at you, a brief, almost imperceptible smile passing across his lips. The door closed behind them, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room. The soft rustling of fabric and the distant murmur of footsteps were the only sounds breaking the stillness. After a week of restless nights, you finally let sleep take over you.

The next day dawned with a flurry of activity in the castle. You rose early, your mind still occupied with thoughts of Jacaerys and the events of the previous night. As you prepared for your daily lessons, you caught snippets of conversation from passing servants – apparently, the prince had been confined to his chambers on the Queen's orders until his wounds fully healed.

Your morning was filled with the now-familiar routine of "queen-to-be" training, barely having time to visit your betrothed. Every time you’d tried to sneak past the maester in charge, or one of the maids, you’d be given a stern look that made you sit back down to focus on your duties.

As you moved through the castle corridors between lessons, your path took you past Jacaerys' chambers. You slowed your steps, hoping for a glimpse or perhaps a chance to check on him. Instead, you saw Baela and Rhaena approaching his door.

You hesitated, watching as Baela knocked and then entered the room with a gentleness that seemed at odds with her usual boisterous demeanor. Through the briefly open door, you caught a glimpse of Jacaerys, propped up in bed, his face lighting up at the sight of his cousins.

A pang of something – jealousy? concern? – fluttered in your chest as you observed Baela's careful movements around Jacaerys, her hand resting on his arm, a small smile on both of their faces. But as you watched their interaction, brief as it was, you realized with a sense of relief that there was nothing more than friendship between them. The easy camaraderie, the lack of tension or hidden glances – it all spoke of a comfortable, familial bond rather than the romantic entanglement that had been haunting them for the past months.

As the door closed behind the sisters, you found yourself releasing a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. The knot of tension in your chest loosened, replaced by a warm feeling of reassurance. You continued on your way to your next lesson, your steps lighter than before.

Throughout the rest of the day, your thoughts occasionally drifted to Jacaerys, wondering how he was faring in his confinement. You made a mental note to find a way to visit him yourself, perhaps under the guise of delivering some reading material or simply to offer companionship during his recovery.

—————

Three days had gone by, Jace’s absense from the castle’s halls feeling like a palpable void. The castle's routine continued its relentless pace, but each day felt marked by the absence of the prince, who remained in his chambers as per the Queen’s decree. The usual sounds of the castle – footsteps echoing in the corridors, the murmur of conversations, and the clinking of dishes during meals – seemed muted without Jacaerys’ vibrant presence.

Your lessons, though diligently attended, seemed to stretch endlessly. The repetitive drills and the constant pressure to perfect every task left you feeling drained.

On the third day, the weight of confinement began to bear down on you. The castle walls seemed to close in, and the routines felt increasingly stifling. You could no longer ignore the need to see Jacaerys, to offer him your support and comfort in person.

In the late afternoon, as the sun began to cast a warm, golden light through the castle windows, you decided to act. With a determined resolve, you gathered a stack of books, their leather covers and gold leafing catching the light, and made your way toward Jacaerys’ chambers. This time, you hoped your visit would be more than just a fleeting encounter.

As you approached his door, you took a deep breath, your nerves fluttering with anticipation. You knocked gently, the sound a soft reminder of your presence.

You were met with silence.

You were about to knock a second time when the door creaked open just slightly, and you caught a glimpse of Jacaerys himself standing on the other side. His disheveled hair and the faint smile that tugged at his lips betrayed a hint of mischief.

Before you could react, he grabbed your hand with a swift, practiced motion and pulled you into the shadowed recess of the large closet adjacent to his door. The suddenness of the action left you breathless and slightly disoriented, but the familiar scent of cedar and leather from the closet’s wooden shelves quickly grounded you.

The closet was spacious enough to accommodate both of you. As your eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the small crack in the door, you saw Jacaerys leaning against the wooden wall, his face a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

“You,” he said in a low voice, a smile playing at the corners of his lips, “have impeccable timing.”

You let out a soft laugh, your nerves calming as you realized the nature of this unexpected encounter. “Shouldn’t you be resting?” you teased, trying to peer through the sliver of light to gauge your surroundings.

Jacaerys shrugged lightly, though the movement was cautious to avoid aggravating his injuries. “The maesters have been relentless. They’ve turned my chambers into a medical haven. And every time they think I’m alone, they come barging in.”

“This is not quite the secret escape I envisioned,” Jacaerys continued, his voice tinged with a playful undertone. “But I needed a moment away from the constant attention.”

You turned to face him fully, the dim light highlighting the fatigue etched into his features. Despite his light-hearted words, the exhaustion was evident. “I can imagine,” you said softly. “I’m sorry to intrude. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

He reached out and took your hand, his touch gentle but firm. Jacaerys’ smile widened, though his eyes remained shadowed with fatigue. “I’m glad you came,” he said, his voice carrying a note of genuine relief. “I’ve missed our conversations.”

“I’ve missed them too,” you admitted.

“I’m sure they have gone to folly, they won’t let me stand from bed without making a fuss of it.” he nodded his head towards the doors, referring to the healers. Though the light was dim, you could still see some of the light hit his face, letting you see the wide smile on his face, and the less-reddened stitches on his brow.

You glanced around the small space, the closet’s confines feeling oddly intimate as you and Jacaerys stood close together, the warmth of his presence a comforting balm. You could still hear the distant murmur of servants and the occasional clatter of dishes, but the noise felt miles away from this hidden nook.

“You’ve been so diligent with your lessons,” he said, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. “I was beginning to think you enjoyed them more than my company.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Hardly,” you said. “If you could see the looks I get from the maesters when I try to sneak away, you’d know I’m barely enjoying myself.”

You heard the faintest sound of footsteps approaching, and your heart skipped a beat. The maesters, ever vigilant, seemed to be making their rounds again. The muffled conversation from outside the door grew clearer, and you could catch fragments of their voices discussing treatments and concerns.

Jacaerys tensed slightly, his hand squeezing yours for a brief moment before letting go. He brought his finger to his lips, telling you to be silent. He glanced towards the door, his face reflecting a mixture of concern and frustration.

“We should–”

Jace cut you off by pushing the door to the closet, creaking it open just enough to let in a sliver of light, and you heard one of the maesters call out, “My prince?”

Jacaerys’ eyes widened slightly, and he moved quickly, guiding you further into the closet’s shadows. You followed his lead, pressing yourself against the wall.

The maesters’ voices grew louder, and you could see their shadows falling across the floor just outside the closet. “He must be somewhere around here,” one of them said with a hint of irritation. “He can’t have vanished into thin air.”

The tension in the small, shadowed closet was almost palpable. You and Jacaerys huddled together, your breaths shallow and synchronized as you listened to the footsteps drawing nearer.

Jacaerys' hand, still warm from holding yours, rested lightly on your back, a comforting presence amid the growing anxiety. His face, illuminated by the narrow stream of light sneaking in through the partially opened closet door, reflected a hint of amusement.

The maesters' voices were now directly outside the door, their conversation laced with frustration. “He couldn’t have gone far,” one of them said with a note of exasperation.

“His Lady is also gone.” you recognized the voice from the maester that ‘helped’ with your duties.

The sound of the maesters' footsteps echoed ominously in the corridor, each step growing closer and more insistent. The air in the closet was warm and heavy, mingling with the faint scent of cedar and leather. You pressed yourself closer to Jacaerys, your heart pounding in sync with the increasingly agitated voices outside.

Jacaerys' attempt to stifle a giggle came out as a muffled snort, his shoulders shaking with barely contained mirth. The sound was so unexpected that it made you bite back a laugh of your own, though you knew it would only draw more attention. You nudged him gently, your eyes narrowing with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

“Jace,” you whispered fiercely, “this is not the time for laughter.”

He covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of apology and suppressed hilarity. “I’m sorry,” he managed to whisper, his voice trembling with barely contained laughter.

"...The Lady must be with him," one of the maesters said, frustration evident in his tone. "It’s rather irregular for them both to be missing at once."

You could almost see the disapproving frown on the maester’s face. The idea of being found in such a compromising position made your cheeks burn with mortification. Your heart raced as you imagined the potential scandal that could arise from this misunderstanding.

“They must think we–”

Jacaerys, sensing your distress, gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. His eyes, despite their fatigue, held a mixture of amusement and tenderness. He leaned in slightly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “They’ve jumped to conclusions. Don’t worry.”

You covered your face with your hands, even though he could barely see you, he stifled another giggle. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of mortification at the thought that anyone might assume something dishonorable was happening between you. Without thinking, you reached for the doors, wishing to push them open and stop the gossiping outside that questioned yours and the prince’s ability to wait for the wedding.

Jacaerys let out a barely audible sigh, his hand still resting lightly on your back. “We should stay put,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “They’ll leave eventually.��

You nodded, stepping back and pressing closer into the shadows of the closet. The cool, cedar-scented air was a stark contrast to the warmth of Jace’s body near yours. The narrow stream of light that filtered through the crack in the door illuminated the small space in patches, casting elongated shadows that danced around you.

Minutes felt like hours as you waited in the tense silence. You could hear the maesters’ frustration mounting, their voices rising in pitch as they grew increasingly exasperated. Jacaerys was still smiling at the distress.

The voices of the maesters gradually began to recede, their footsteps growing fainter as they moved further down the corridor. You exhaled slowly, the tension in your shoulders easing just slightly. Jacaerys, still pressed close to you, let out a soft chuckle, though he quickly stifled it with a hand over his mouth.

You could feel the heat of his laughter reverberating through his chest, a sensation that was both comforting and endearing despite the precariousness of your situation. You turned to him, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. His smile, despite the exhaustion that lined his face, was infectious.

“You could try to find a more comfortable hiding spot, next time.”

“Noted,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. You hoped that by the time all the maesters were out of the room and you stepped out of the closet, the evident flush of embarrassment that showed in your stance and your face.

As the final echoes of the maesters' footsteps faded away, you and Jacaerys remained hidden in the closet, the silence now a companion rather than an adversary. The tension that had clung to the air began to dissipate, replaced by a more relaxed atmosphere that was punctuated by Jacaerys' muffled chuckles and your own quiet, relieved laughter.

You shifted slightly, careful not to jostle Jacaerys too much, and peered through the narrow crack in the closet door. The hallway outside was empty, the earlier disturbance seemingly a distant memory. You turned back to Jacaerys, whose face was lit by a smile that softened the lines of worry etched into his features.

“Are they gone?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Jacaerys nodded, his expression one of satisfaction mixed with residual amusement. “I think we’re clear. Though I doubt they'll stop their search anytime soon.”

With a final glance towards the partially open door, you slowly eased out of the closet, Jacaerys following suit with a careful, measured movement. The light from the corridor spilled into the closet, illuminating the room in a warm glow that made the shadows retreat. You watched as Jace made his way to his bed, patting the spot next to him for you to sit.

Jacaerys sank onto the bed with a sigh of relief, the weariness of his injuries evident in the way he settled. You sat beside him, careful to keep your movements gentle and unhurried.

“I’d brought you books,” you said, pointing at the pile of books that had fallen to the floor when he pushed you into the hiding spot.

“Would you read to me?”

The request was soft, almost hesitant, but you could see the faint hope in his eyes.

“Of course,” you said, your voice gentle as you began to gather the books from the floor. You selected one that seemed lighthearted, its cover adorned with an intricate illustration that promised adventure and whimsy. You settled back onto the bed beside him, the book open in your lap.

Jacaerys shifted slightly, propping himself up with a few pillows to make himself more comfortable.

The room seemed to grow quieter, the only sounds the gentle rustle of pages and your soothing voice. Jacaerys’ eyes, once shadowed with fatigue, now shone with a mixture of relief and contentment. He listened intently, his gaze fixed on you as if the story was a lifeline pulling him away from the distress of his injuries.

You paused occasionally, glancing up to see his reaction, and each time you were met with a smile or a look of fascination.

After a while, Jacaerys let out a contented sigh, his hand resting on the book as you reached a particularly gripping part of the story.

He cleared his throat softly, a subtle gesture that drew your attention away from the book. His gaze was momentarily fixed on your face, as if seeking the right words amidst the shadows and flickering candlelight.

He paused, as if weighing his next words carefully. “There’s something I’d like to ask,” he said, his voice a soft murmur.

You felt a flutter of anticipation in your chest. “What is it?”

Jacaerys’ gaze fell to the book, then back to you. “Would you… kiss me?”

The request was almost shy, a contrast to the bold stories you’d been reading together. But there was something incredibly sincere in his tone, a plea for a simple yet profound gesture of closeness.

You didn’t hesitate. You set the book aside, letting it rest gently on the bed. You moved closer to him, your heart racing with a mix of tenderness and excitement. Jacaerys’ breath was warm against your cheek as you leaned in.

You pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek, the touch delicate and affectionate. His skin was warm and slightly rough from the healing, but there was a softness that spoke of his vulnerability. As your lips met his cheek, you felt him relax, a sigh of contentment escaping him.

When you pulled back, Jacaerys looked at you with a smile that was both grateful and serene. His eyes were bright, the earlier exhaustion giving way to a peaceful calm. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath.

For a few moments, there was only the soft, rhythmic sound of your breathing and the occasional crackle of the candle flames. The evening outside continued its slow descent into night, the castle settling into a peaceful hush.

The sound of the doors opening eventually broke the silence, you almost jumped from the bed, the thought of being found in bed, unchaperoned, with Jace.

Your heart leapt into your throat at the sound of the doors creaking open. Panic surged through you as you glanced quickly at Jacaerys, whose own eyes widened in alarm. You barely had time to react before the intruder – a young maid, her face flushed with the energy of youth – appeared in the doorway.

You froze, every muscle tensing as she looked around the room with wide, innocent eyes. The maid's gaze fell upon you and Jacaerys, sitting together on the bed. Her cheeks reddened slightly, a mix of surprise and embarrassment flickering across her face.

“I–I’m sorry, My Prince,” she stammered, her eyes darting between you and Jacaerys. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Jacaerys, still propped up on the pillows, cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. “It’s alright,” he said, his voice steady despite the situation.

The maid took a step into the room, her gaze flickering nervously. “The maesters are looking for you, my prince. They’ve been rather anxious, and I’ve been sent to see if you made your way back to your chambers.”

You could sense Jacaerys’ frustration at the intrusion, though he managed to keep his demeanor calm. He looked at you, a silent plea for understanding in his eyes. You offered a reassuring nod, then moved to rise from the bed.

“I’ll go,” you said gently. “It’s best if I make my exit before things get more complicated.”

Jacaerys reached out, taking your hand with a brief but tender grip. “Thank you for being here,” he said softly, his eyes conveying the depth of his gratitude.

You smiled, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before reluctantly pulling away. “I’ll see you soon,” you promised.

—————

The days that followed your clandestine visit to Jacaerys were a blend of anticipation and reflection. The castle continued its relentless rhythm, but now, each echo and murmur seemed tinged with the memory of your hidden conversation. Jacaerys’ recovery was progressing, and the tension that had initially surrounded his confinement began to ease. The maesters, though still vigilant, were less inclined to hover, and the prince’s rooms were gradually returning to a semblance of normalcy.

You had kept your promise to Jacaerys, visiting him regularly. Each visit was a delicate balance of light-hearted storytelling and quiet companionship.

Among the many who noticed the change was Baela. The shadows of the past days had given way to a hopeful light, and Baela could sense the shift. She had seen the glances exchanged, the shared smiles, and the subtle, unspoken understanding between you and Jacaerys. It was clear to her that something had deepened between you two, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of happiness for her friend and his newfound joy.

Your months in Dragonstone, even while its halls were rumbling with conversations about the war, were a stark contrast to the familiar, yet isolating, walls of your own castle, where being the only girl and without siblings had left you feeling like a solitary figure amidst the vast expanse of family and duty.

After having spent every given moment with Baela and Rhaena, they had become your confidantes, your sisters of choice, each sharing in the trials and triumphs of your days with an openness that was both refreshing and comforting. And the enthusiasm for company of the small Joffrey made your heart ache with care.

Little Joffrey was fast asleep with his head on your lap, both of you sitting on the grass outside of the castle, under the dappled shade of an ancient oak.

Beside you, Baela and Rhaena lounged on a cloth spread out on the grass. They chatted animatedly, their voices a melodic blend of excitement and curiosity. Baela was gesticulating with animated gestures, her laughter bright. Rhaena smiled warmly, her gaze occasionally shifting to the slumbering Joffrey with an expression of affectionate amusement.

The halt of steps beside you made you look up, a small smile creeping to your face at the sight of your betrothed.

Without a word, Jacaerys stopped by your side, his gaze flicking to Baela and Rhaena, who had paused in their conversation, their curiosity piqued by his arrival. His expression softened as he met your eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had grown between you.

He cleared his throat softly, a gesture that drew your attention. “Could I speak with you for a moment?” His tone was courteous yet carried an undertone of urgency that made you sit up slightly, careful not to disturb Joffrey’s slumber.

You nodded, glancing at Baela and Rhaena, who exchanged curious glances but remained silent, their interest evident. “Of course,” you said, rising gently and carefully lifting Joffrey to lay him down on one of the girls, ensuring he remained comfortable.

As you moved away from the blanket and the lively chatter, Jacaerys fell into step beside you. His presence was reassuring, though his demeanor was serious. He guided you a short distance away from the others, near a secluded spot where the oak's branches formed a natural canopy, providing a sense of privacy.

Once you were out of earshot, he stopped and turned to face you, his expression a mix of anticipation and something akin to nervousness. His hand moved to the small of your back.

“What is it?” you asked with a smile.

“I figured we could use a moment alone,” Jacaerys' demeanor shifted subtly as he faced you, his eyes softening with warmth. A hint of a playful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He stepped closer, his hand still resting gently on the small of your back.

"Well," he began, his voice low and tinged with a hint of mischief, "I've been thinking about something for a while now." His gaze flickered briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again.

He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your cheek. "I was hoping we might... continue where we left off the other day?" he murmured, his tone filled with gentle suggestion.

“Whatever do you mean?”

Jacaerys' fingers traced a feather-light pattern on your back, sending a shiver down your spine. His other hand came up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, lingering there for a moment.

Jace smiled softly, his eyes twinkling with affection as he gazed at you. "You know what I mean," he said gently, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand moved from your hair to cup your cheek tenderly. “I have grown to care deeply for you. You cloud my judgment.”

With a gentle tilt of his head, Jacaerys closed the remaining distance between you. His lips met yours in a soft, sweet kiss. It was brief but filled with emotion – a tender expression of the growing bond between you. As he pulled back slightly, his eyes searched for yours, filled with hope and a question.

"Was that alright?" he whispered, his hand still cradling your cheek.

You felt a rush of warmth spreading through you, your heart beating a little faster. This moment, shared in the dappled shade of the ancient oak, felt like the beginning of something precious. The playful glint in Jacaerys' eyes mixed with genuine care, creating a connection that went beyond your formal betrothal.

In the distance, you could hear the muffled laughter of Baela and Rhaena, a reminder of the world beyond this intimate moment. But for now, wrapped in Jacaerys' gentle embrace, you allowed yourself to savor this new chapter in your relationship, full of promise and sweet beginnings.

taglist: @smurfelle @earth4angels @ @sillylittlepenguin181818 (taglist link is on pinned!)

#house of the dragon #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #hotd #hotd jacaerys #prince jacaerys #jacaerys velaryon one shot #jacaerys targaryen imagine #jacaerys x you

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vinylmango · 1 month ago

Text

On our own terms

Nicholas Alexander Chavez x black!famous!reader

Description: When the paparazzi images of Nicholas out with a “mystery girl” go viral OR a continuation of part two.

Warnings: not really

Note: the last part will be published tomorrow morning! (my timezone is EST)

Parts: one two THREE four five

masterlist

———

celebriteagossip

Tagged: nicholasalexanderchavez & (y/n)

Liked by nicchavezismine, no1nacsupporter, and 16,452 others

celebriteagossip Some pictures have been sent to us of actor Nicholas Alexander Chavez out with a mystery girl while on vacation. The actor was spotted in Italy with a group of friends including the mystery girl this past month. The theory is that the woman is (y/n). This comes after the actor wrapped filming of his upcoming Netflix drama. Chavez posted about the Italy trip on his Instagram confirming he was there and so did (y/n). More to come as we uncover who the mystery woman is, but all we know is that she is one lucky lady!

user1 this is such an invasion of privacy

user2 he’s going to stop posting if this doesn’t stop. Can’t he just enjoy life and post about his gf when he’s ready?

nicchavezismine he’s so hot 😩😩😩

user3 I wonder how long they’ve been together for, they seem really comfortable together.

no1nacsupporter that definitely looks like (y/n)! I know they have mutual friends but I didn’t think they were together. Either way you shouldn’t post this kind of stuff about him, he’s obviously very private for a reason.

user4 oh yeah! Wasn’t (y/n) in Italy around the same time?

ilovecooper maybe the girl is friends with (y/n) and sof? Nicholas was part of a big group with Cooper Koch, some GH people, and a couple other random celebrities. Maybe they’re mutual friends?

View more comments…

(Y/n)ismother

Tagged: (y/n)

Liked by (y/n), (y/n)loml, aestheticblackgirls, and 700 others

(Y/n)ismother How is she real?? Every second she breathes she just reaffirms why she is mother. And if she is dating Nicholas Chavez good for them, he better treat her like the queen she is or we ride at dawn…and that goes for whoever that guy she started posting on her insta is whether it’s Nicholas or not.

(Y/n) you are so sweet omg 🫶🏽 thank you for hyping me up love

> (y/n)ismother OMG THANK YOU! You’re such a good role model for young black and brown girls 🫶🏽

User1 HOLY SHIT SHE LIKED AND COMMENTED

User2 her body is so tea. That’s what happens when you’re unproblematic and just a good person.

User3 let’s be real. Can Nicholas Chavez even handle all that?…like sir she is a goddess.

nicchavezismine he’s so much hotter than her omg

> user1 girl be so fr rn

> user2 why are you even here leaving hate when this is a page only about y/n?

> user3 real weirdo behavior 😒

> user1 and their face cards are an equal slay…obviously exponentially better than yours tho <3

(y/n)loml she is literally an angel it’s unreal

View more comments…

deuxmoi

Tagged: nicholasalexanderchavez & (y/n)

Liked by (y/n)ismother, no1nacsupporter, and 50,000 others

deuxmoi Thanks to some eagle eyed fans we are able to confirm that Nicholas Chavez and (y/n) were in Italy together. It’s unclear if they went together as a couple or just met while there. We don’t know how long they’ve been together, but keep sending in info. They are one good looking couple!

(y/n)ismother who keeps sending this stuff in?! (Y/n) is notoriously private when it comes to who she’s dating and what she puts out surrounding that. I don’t know much about Nicholas, but I can assume he’s the same way. This is so disrespectful to them! They’re people too!

user1 how do you even get that close to them without being some weirdo stalker?!

user2 they are really hot but this is such an invasion of privacy. Please just leave them be.

nicchavezismine ewww get off of him! She looks like such a slut. Who lays like that on the beach?!

> (y /n)ismother Your mother. Hope this helps 😊

user3 they look so comfortable together. I wonder how long they’ve been together

View more comments…

(y/n)

Tagged: nicholasalexanderchavez

Liked by ryandestiny, chloesevigny, (y/n)loml, and 2,123,326 others

(Y/n) Booo the internet is so lame 😒 ANYWAYS happy national boyfriend day to my best friend, travel buddy, and love of my life 🩷 I love you 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

user1 someone check on that hater account nicchavezismine lol although now he never will be 😘

> nicchavezismine never say never 🥰

>> user1 weirdo

user2 parents

user3 FINALLY

nicholasalexanderchavez i love you baby

Liked by (y/n)

nicholasalexanderchavez my gf is HOT HOT HOT 🥵🔥🙂‍↕️

> (y/n) ahh 🤭🥰🫣

>> user8 me too girl

nicholasalexanderchavez rip to (y/n)loml now I can just do it on main

> user4 (y/n)loml WAS YOU?! OMG

> user5 I hope one day I will experience love like this

sofcruz CUTIES 🥰

> user6 ngl I thought he was dating Sof for a sec

> nicholasalexanderchavez no 😟

> sofcruz 😟😵‍💫🤢 no offense btw but im strictly for my bf 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

>> user7 OOO WHO?

nicholasalexanderchavez

Tagged (y/n)

Liked by javierbardem, sofcruz, lexiloo6, and 1,765,432 others

nicholasalexanderchavez i would’ve rather said it myself instead of random insta pages…but i love you i love you i love you i love you

(Y/n) my man my man my man 🥵💗

Liked by nicholasalexanderchavez

user7 what a time to be alive 🙌🙏

cooperkoch finally I was scared I was going to be the one to accidentally say something 😅

> tomholland2013 no mate that probably would’ve been me 😂

> user1 LOL Tom 😭

user2 so when’s the wedding

user3 forget the wedding for a sec we want a tell all. Tell us the meet cute plsssss 🥺

> user4 I like the way you think

> (y/n)ismother yes pls

no1nacsupporter I’m so happy for them they look so happy and good together 😭

nicholasgalitzine yay! now everyone can see how sappy the two of you are 🤢🥴 lol jk I’m happy for you

> user5 lol are they cringy?

> nicholasalexanderchavez we aren’t sappy

> nicholasgalitzine 🤨

> nicholasalexanderchavez ok fine maybe a little

> (y/n) you love us tho

> nicholasgalitzine unfortunately true 😪😖

> sofcruz weren’t you the one to introduce them in the first place

> nicholasgalitzine I am 2/2 now 😤. Call me a matchmaker ig

>> user6 who’s the other couple? 👀 you can’t just say that and not tell us

taglist: [comment or dm to be added!]

@hockeyboysarehot @jukeboxsweethearttt

#nicholas alexander chavez #black!reader #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez x black reader #vinylmango #on our own terms smau #nicholas chavez x poc reader #nicholas chavez imagine

306 notes · View notes

demonicbaby666 · 3 months ago

Text

i. A late night text

Feelings Are Fatal Masterlist | Masterlists | ii

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Jennifer Jareau x fem!Reader

Words: 5.4k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, fingering, oral sex, alcohol mentioned

It was a single text.

‘What are you doing?’

It was nothing of significance.

‘What are you doing?’

It painted light on your blackened phone in the dead of that Friday night. When you should have been out with friends and not rotting in bed with Netflix pulled up on your laptop and a family-sized pack of Doritos nestled at your side. The city roared with life. The hustle and bustle of busybodies dancing, shouting and singing called so desperately for your attention. The universe begged you to live for once, not for anyone else but for yourself.

‘What are you doing?’

You knew what it meant–the true meaning behind messages sent after dusk and before dawn. They pulled uncomfortably at the muscles in the stomach, forced gooseflesh to pebble the expanse of your arms and raised the hairs on your skin to stand tall. They made you weak, ripped your resolve to shreds and forced the self-preservation you built for yourself to melt.

Regardless of the outcome always being the same, every night, you told yourself, would be the night you’d be strong. You’d put your phone on silent, place it to the side facing down, and recommence a wild evening of trash TV in which you would think nothing of debauchery.

‘What are you doing?’

Ten minutes. It was your max. Ten fucking minutes and the blasted, overpriced hunk of metal was in your hands as you nervously stared at the three dots that seemed to be taunting you, flickering back and forth until another grey bubble burst into light.

‘Case is closed. I’m back home.’

You were better than this; you had enough respect for yourself not to do this. You didn't need to answer someone’s beck and all.

The clattering of words typed out on your phone filled the sorrowful silence.

‘I’m outttttttt at the mo. Gimme 20 and I’ll make my way over.’

The necessary number of Ts needed was one, but it didn't hurt to overplay the whole ‘out on a Friday night’ thing, and it wouldn’t be the first time either of you had liquor running through your systems during one of your nightcaps, even if it was a lie this time. It was a needed lie. The tattered pyjamas you wore and the mess on your head wouldn’t paint the image you wanted in JJ’s mind. Dancing amongst friends and strangers, hot and horny, that was better suited to your dynamic–which, simply put, was emotionless fucking.

Time, it would seem, was not on your side. This was unfortunate because, even if your clothes were to end up on JJ’s floor, you still had to think through what to wear to both give the illusion you were flitting from club to club and impress JJ enough to have her distracted from the fact you were so quick to drop everything and come crawling.

It was exhausting–the need to make her want you more than she supposedly already did, the hollowness that accompanied every late-night visit you paid her, the following mornings you spent in a taxi crying on the way home, smelling the sweetness of her perfume on whatever article of clothing you'd borrowed from her. Most painful of all was knowing she’d never feel the same.

You needed it to stop. This needed to stop.

She was your best friend, for Christ's sake. You were, in plain and simple terms, your best friend’s fucking booty call. Your best friend with whom you were so stupidly and utterly infatuated, it’d been a miracle you hadn’t outright admitted you loved her amid a mind-blowing orgasm—which she had given you several.

All it would take was one text. Your fingers itched to type the words out as you stood over your unmade bed, teeth mindlessly nibbling at your bottom lip.

‘It's over. I can’t do this anymore.’

A single finger hovered over that blue arrow. You’d only have to click send, and all of this would be over. You could go back to pretending you were JJ’s friend, that it didn’t hurt when she was away on a case and most likely sharing a bed with a far more attractive woman than yourself, because needs must and all, that it didn’t affect you that she only looked at you with such fervency when she needed an outlet for her stress and that you most certainly did not want anything more than unembellished platonic love from her.

Your body’s need for her won out with the selection and subsequent deletion of the message.

The only dress available was one far too short for the evening air, and frantically searching for another was not an option when you were already lost in half sets of lingerie. So, you settled, even if it meant risking your legs to hypothermia. Even if it meant wearing a g-string in favour of finishing your makeup because that was the only pair of underwear you could find with a matching bra. It didn’t necessarily aid you in any way that the rightly impatient Uber driver outside was threatening to wake the whole block with a blaring horn.

It was pathetic. You knew it. The driver knew it from the second you tumbled into the car out of breath and dressed like a hooker. Still, he was kind enough to greet you with a grunt and murmur of your name, instead choosing to silently judge you through his rearview mirror and remain silent for the duration of the drive.

The city lights glinted defiantly against the blighting dark. You watched, mesmerised, as street lamps, neon signs, and lone candles swaying in closing restaurants bled into one. They morphed into one big blur until they were slowly replaced by the quiet stirring of TV screens and dwindling dimmed bedroom lights.

The area housing JJ’s apartment was quiet, eerily so. Only the hum of the engine, the distant shrill of a car horn, and the crunch of tyres against asphalt as everything came to a halt could be heard through the dense silence.

Another glare from the rearview mirror afforded you no extra time to prepare for what was to come. Your only comfort was a deep breath and a silent prayer that your emotions wouldn’t step out of line as you reached for the handle and pushed the door open.

Blonde hair greeted you as you exited the stuffy Uber, and immediately, you were pulled into a warm embrace so tight you could smell the familiar scent of JJ’s shampoo–honey and home. You’d missed this. You’d missed her. With hands at your waist eagerly pulling you in, you lost yourself in the feel of the warm body pressed against your front.

Occasions like these kept you coming; you were a scavenger, living off scraps. Pitiful was what it was, yet you couldn’t find the strength not to come running when JJ called. It was easy to pretend that evenings like these meant more than they did, that JJ wanted you more than just for your body, that you wouldn’t meet up with her in a couple of days for a coffee and act like none of this had happened.

When your bodies perfectly slotted against each other outside her apartment complex, your head nestled in her neck, and her lips hovering over your cheek, it was hard to think of yourself as anything other than made for one another. They were the type of thoughts you kept under lock and key, aware but discontent that they’d always exist for you and you alone.

You’d learnt to live that way because you knew your feelings were woven so deep into the fabric of your being that it was hard to imagine a life without them. Somehow, you knew JJ had always been there, rooted so deep in your heart, that having her infinitesimally, compared to how you wanted her, was better than not having her at all—even if it hurt, even if it turned your tears to acid as they burned your cheeks.

“You smell nice,” you mindlessly sighed into the warmth of JJ’s neck. It couldn’t be helped. Slips always happened when she was affectionate.

“You smell like vodka,” She chuckled.

So what if you had a shot or three before racing down to the Uber? After all, you had a lie to sell and were nothing if not committed to the gambit.

“Yes, well, I was out,” You muttered.

Shaking yourself out of your love-fueled daze, you attempted, and subsequently failed, to peel yourself out of JJ’s embrace. Her hands were stellar on your waist, refusing to budge. However, you couldn’t say you minded, not when she slowly walked backwards and spun the both of you so your back was to the wall. A thin smirk lined her rosy lips, and you settled on lightly slapping her chest when she wouldn’t release you in reprimand for her earlier comment.

“But then I got a tempting text from a certain somebody.”

“Pray tell, what was so tempting about this text?”

You reminded yourself why you were here and, more importantly, what you were here for.

“It wasn’t the text itself. It was how wet I got when I realised who it was from,” you replied, running your tongue along your lip.

“Fuck,” JJ growled, her pupils dilating. The release of your waist was quickly remedied by the grip of her hand sliding into yours and the eager jerk of her pulling you through the complex’s doors.

Unlike your own, JJ’s apartment was spacious. Despite there being a certain emptiness in the place, it had character. There was the mustard couch you’d spent many evenings eating ice cream on, binge-watching whatever JJ decided to throw on. There was the vintage coffee table you’d helped pick out and carry back from the local thrift store that had honestly seen better days now that it was marked with one too many wine stains. There were the pictures that dotted stone grey walls bright with happy memories—a couple with the team, some with just the BAU girls and the ones you most treasured, the ones with only the two of you.

In a delicately carved rustic frame was the picture of you and JJ at Sandbridge Beach. She was buried up to the neck in sand and had on her goofy smile, the one that showed all her teeth. You stood proudly above her, plastic shovel in hand, with an equally goofy smile of your own tugging at your lips. You looked happy.

It was packed that day, but after the three-hour drive filled with 2000s tunes and an unhealthy amount of Cheetos that JJ demanded she be fed, you weren’t about to turn back around. She was adamant about that. So you pretended that no one else was at that beach, that the people next to you weren’t rolling their eyes at your childish antics, that the water wasn’t polluted with the masses when JJ lifted you, slinging your legs around her waist and died with laughter as she dunked the both of you under cold salty shores. You were happy.

There was something so bittersweet about staring at these memories built on friendship. The reminder of what your relationship truly was tugged at your chest each time you burst through those apartment doors. Of course, you wouldn't have it the other way. Your place was no better; if anything, it was worse; in the foundations of every nook and cranny, there was a memory of your and JJ’s friendship. No, being here was more manageable. At JJ’s, you could - as you always did - leave in the morning and find solace in your empty bed, find peace in soaking your pillow with tears, relish in the shame of knowing in only a few nights, you’d do it all again in a heartbeat.

“Tell me you weren’t out for long,” JJ groaned from behind you, hands mapping a path down your back, resting on the curve of your ass. You could feel the frustration bubbling in her chest. “Dressed like this.”

You only just about managed to say, “An hour or two,” before the blonde had you turned around, lips turning your brain to mush as she kissed you for the first time that evening. Though sudden, it was entirely welcome, and how could it not have been when she tasted so sweet?

The first time you sampled her was five months prior. It was after you hosted a small gathering at your place, where drinks flowed freely, and laughter was heard from every corner. She stayed that evening when the place wasn’t nearly messy enough to need help. With a bin bag in her hand and conversation light on her tongue, she collected cups and wrappers, wiped surfaces down, and when there was nothing else to do, she crept up behind you and whispered all the sinful things she wanted to do to you the second she saw you in that dress.

Garcia introduced the two of you five years before; for most of those years, you’d pined for JJ, longed for her, and loved her. It started small, like falling in love with how she looked after Garcia. Then, when the two of you began to spend more time alone, it was the way her eyes shone under low lights, the way her hair looked after it was windswept and slightly knotted.

After that night, it was the smell she left on your pillow, the tingling she left between your legs, and the smile she plastered on your face. Then, as all things go, because happiness was not a thing you got to experience for long, life took it away.

The following day, she was gone. The right side of your bed was empty and cold.

You didn’t think much of that morning. Bursting through Garcia’s door, sitting on her couch and crying your eyes out wasn’t a fond memory. The blonde was kind enough not to pry, kinder to let you stay the day, then night. By the following day, you’d built your walls back up and reminded yourself that what you felt for JJ was one-sided and what she wanted from you would never be what you wanted from her.

“I’ve missed you.”

This. She meant this, surely. She’d missed the sex. Not you, never you. Telling yourself that was supposed to help, yet it only intensified the sting of longing caged within your chest.

When JJ’s tongue pushed eagerly into your mouth, the small squeak that echoed in your throat morphed into a liquid moan, and you thought nothing more of her admission. If you did, with most things regarding JJ, it’d have driven you crazy. Instead, you focussed on the fingers skimming down the back of your dress, curling at its hem and delving under. Her touch was feather light at your thigh, and whilst you appreciated her being gentle any other time, now was not the time.

You didn’t want her to treat you like a glass figurine, like you were something she could break, because she’s already broken you, and her light touches and soft kisses would never be enough to put you back together.

No. Only crushing you over and over with an iron fist and sex-addled savagery would compensate.

With one hand firmly placed on JJ’s shoulder, you moved the other to her questing fingers. Tearing them away from their tender endeavours, you rose them higher and higher till they were ghosting over your sex, mere millimetres away from your soaked panties.

“Someone’s in a rush,” JJ laughed, nipping down the length of your throat.

“Well, I assumed I wasn’t summoned here for casual banter.”

“The kitten has claws,” the blonde mumbled, continuing her descent to your neck. There, her pearly teeth nibbled at your thudding pulse point while her fingers remained vexingly still.

“Stop talking.”

Somewhere between dragging JJ out of the longue and into her bedroom, she had managed to unzip your dress and gift it to the corridor floor. You were equal in your endeavours, ridding her of her t-shirt, unbuckling and pulling leather through belt loops. Between all the kissing, it was an impressive yet chaotic sight.

By the time you arrived at the foot of her bed, you both had quite the view, JJ more so.

The look she got in her eyes was something you’d never forget. It was as though she was trying to take every part of you in at once. You were the open spread at an all-you-can-eat buffet, and she didn’t know what to begin with. That look was scorched into the back of your eyes and ingrained into every late-night fantasy. This time, however, it was shadowed by a look of something darker.

“Were you planning on meeting someone?” she asked, taking a small step back and frowning.

“What?”

You looked down, admiring your lingerie set with great pride, until realisation dawned on you. Before coming to JJ’s, you were ‘out’ without knowing where you would end the night. The red lace cladding your breast and sparse over your cunt would have led anyone to believe you wanted to entertain a particular type of company, and whilst any willing participant would have no qualms with seeing you in such a set, the look in JJ’s judgemental eyes told you she was not partial to that thought.

“That is not a night out with the girls' set of underwear.” Her eyes were back to roaming your body, only now the attention seemed more desperate.

“Would you rather I take them off?” You tried to rid the room of tension with a sprinkle of seductive humour. Entertaining the thought she felt she had some claim over you was moronic.

Maybe it wasn’t the answer she was looking for. Or perhaps it was. Maybe this was all a game of chess, and she would always remain two steps ahead.

Whatever it was, you knew your part in it was a mere pawn. Your job would always be to heed and obey but put up a bit of a fight, come when called, but don’t let it be known you’re desperate, take and give pleasure, but don’t let any memories of it fester inside you and bring up feelings of true significance.

At the latter, you’d failed - even if love blossomed in your heart years ago - but you could do the rest.

“Or I could go put my dress back on. If the image isn’t to your liking?” You look over her shoulder into the corridor, where your dress lay in wait.

“Don’t even think about it,” she warned, voice low and gravelly, fingers pinching your chin to force your gaze back to her.

Her eyes were two glaziers, flecks of grey pebbling her irises like raindrops on a sheet of water. Surely, you committed a heinous crime in a previous life, and this was your penance–to be tortured over and over again by your own heart, to kiss this beautiful and kind woman, have opened the depths of your soul to her, and have her see nothing but a body in which she could use to decompress and view as nothing more than a friend come morning.

These evenings, blanketed by the cover of night and veiled under the guise of necessity, would be the most you would ever have of her. And, yes, it was selfish to take and take, trick her into believing you were using her in the same way she was using you, but your punishment came swiftly. It was delivered to you on a tray of coal the mornings after, and time and time again, you invited the sordid torment into your home with an enveloping hug and salty tears.

Fingers dipping into your panties drew your attention away from the tempests of JJ’s eyes, and through the lump in your throat came a gasp, morphing into a moan when JJ slid down to your sex.

“You weren’t kidding about how wet you got.” JJ tilted your head ever so slightly to the side to nibble at your earlobe, sending a single electric current running down your spine. It was joined shortly by a second when the blonde sucked her shimmering fingers to her mouth.

“When have I ever lied to you?” You asked, somewhat winded. Except a couple of minutes ago, alongside every time I pretend not to hold you in my heart. “This is what you do to me.” At least that wasn’t a lie.

While JJ was momentarily distracted by your admission, you took the opportunity to level your state of undress. Dropping to your knees, you tugged her trousers down and over her ankles, pressing kisses into the meat of her thighs. She showed no reservation or aversion. If anything, her fingers threading through your hair was a cue to offer her more from your auspicious position.

And offer, you did.

Moving her underwear to the side, you breathed in the sugared scent of her and felt saliva gather at the sides of your mouth as plain want turned to ardent need. Somehow, by some miracle, you were allowed to do this—taste the most intimate area of JJ’s body, hear her moan above you and watch the gentle push and pull of her chest grow rapid.

Restraint was not something your nighttime companion liked to exercise, so it came as no shock when she used her sturdy grip to urge you closer. Despite her silent request for more, JJ’s head still jerked back and let out a rather loud ‘oh my god’ when you followed instructions and sucked her clit into your mouth. But her reactions had never previously bothered you, and they weren’t suddenly about to.

You let them guide you.

When her moans became strained and whiny, you knew to slow down. When her left knee twitched ever so slightly, you knew to move a smidge to the right. And when one of her legs hooked over your shoulder, you knew to bury as many fingers as she could take inside her and pump till her throat was raw and cum was dripping down your chin.

“You’re too good at that,” JJ happily sighed, dropping her thigh down from your shoulder and mustering the strength to pull you to your feet.

Happy to taste herself on your tongue, the blonde leaned forward, slotting your lips together and letting loose a contented hum. You matched her vocal bliss, growing nosier with the removal of your bra and the playful tweaking of your nipples. Her touch was addictive, and your hips pledged to reveal as much. They slaved away, trying to locate anything to grind down on, first the sticky material of your ruined panties, then, with great relief, the toned length of JJ’s thigh.

The inner turmoil settled down, quieted by the hastening pumping of your heart. You welcomed the fall onto JJ’s bed with a mere squeak and watched enamoured as she rid herself of her bra and underwear, then moved onto the mere strip of material keeping her from seeing you fully and gloriously bare.

You smirked at the wolfish glint in JJ’s eyes, the slight parting of her lips as she let out a shaky breath and spread your legs–an invitation to fill the vacant space with her body.

It seemed that JJ had other plans. In one swooping move, she had you flipped on your stomach, manoeuvring your body till your cheek was pressed against crumpled sheets, ass raised high in the air, and ankles hanging off the bottom of her bed.

“You’re perfect,” JJ breathlessly whispered, crouching down and using the pads of her thumbs to part your folds. The casualness of voicing such a thought left you dizzy.

Why did she always have to do that? Take your breath away with words alone, and on top of that, act like it meant nothing. It meant something to you. It vexingly meant too much to you. She threw these compliments about, always sounding so sure, so firm in her belief that they were fact and not opinion.

“JJ,” you whined, growing restless with the influx of poignant thoughts, desperate for more than her warm breath hovering over your sex.

“Yes?” she feigned innocence, taunting you with her candied tone.

You grit your teeth, taking a deep breath to alleviate some of the tension growing taunt in your stomach. “I swear to god if you don’t-”

Your own drawn-out cry cut you off. JJ’s tongue was back on you, only now it was consistently moving up and down the length of your pussy, occasionally circling the bundle of your nerves waiting at the apex of your sex. Even if it had only been slightly under a week since you last tumbled under bed sheets with the blonde or two days since you stuck your hand beneath pyjama bottoms and tended to your own needs, you were convinced the releasing tension burrowed deep into your bones had been gathering for not days, but months or years, waiting to be granted this kind of attention.

Her tongue was insistent, steadfast on your clit from the moment she suckled it into her mouth like a starving baby to its mother's tit. She moved feverishly fast, then lulled her pace. The press of her tongue was harsh on you, then so light you barely felt the echo of it on your clit. Over and over, fast then slow, concrete then pillow soft until finally, she had you dribbling between whines and moans, your knuckles white with the force of your hold on bedsheets.

The fiery inferno intensifying deep within your gut was utterly unruly. Its heat burned from your core up to your chest, down to the tips of your toes, which hung precariously off the end of the bed. Every word leaving your mouth was incomprehensible. They came out muffled, embedding themselves deep into crinkled cotton, and honestly, you were thankful. Between your senses leaving your body the moment JJ touched you and the disappearance of any inclination to keep things platonic between you, you knew what you wanted to say, or rather were trying to say, would have thrown a wrench into this delicate dynamic you both shared.

A cry resembling JJ’s name echoed in your ears as she picked up her pace, ceasing her teasing touches and now favouring consistent flicks of her tongue.

Abruptly, she stood up, and you would have vocalised your annoyance had it not been for what she did next. Using the full force of her body, she slotted her fingers in and out of you at what could only be deemed a brutal pace. Each thrust ended with fingertips grazing your g-spot, something the blonde never failed to hit, edging you closer to the summit of your release.

“Touch yourself,” JJ panted from behind you, sounding almost as wrecked as you felt.

You let out a hiss, your nipples so very sensitive as they brushed against cotton sheets in a desperate attempt to work your hand down to your clit. It was an outward struggle to maintain a repetitive pattern, the slip and slide of arousal making it impossible to work the set of nerves for any longer than a few seconds, but your efforts were not in vain.

The flutters of pleasure rolling around in your stomach were hastening, the shuddering of your canal walls around slender fingers was intensifying, and all the while, JJ’s misshaped voice echoed in your ears, becoming more and more muffled.

Pinpricks of light burst behind your eyelids, a fire roared in your stomach, and your hips caved to carnal need, uncontrollably rutting forward and back with the careful aid of JJ’s unoccupied hand.

Your body was being ripped apart. Every inch of you stretched so thin that you were sure this would be when you’d break with ‘Jennifer’ on your tongue and adoration heavy in your heart.

JJ did not let you lose yourself as you plummeted into the fiery pits of your orgasm. Her fingers, still tucked inside your twitching cunt, swept back and forth, hell-bent on prolonging the undulating pleasure coursing through your core. Her lips, pressed against your neck, moved lower to your arched spine where she lay kiss after gentle kiss. And her words, a second ago, hot and demanding, were now kind and coaxing.

She tended to do this–piece you back together without having ever known she tore you apart, often until you were spent and your limbs immobilised. That night was no exception. You gave as good as you got, ignoring the orange and yellow hues painting the horizon outside the window and the cruel reality they brought with them. It was when you could no longer keep your eyes open that you succumbed to the pull of sleep.

—

Most mornings, you’d wake up alone. Whilst it was a depressing reality to some to turn and find your sheets cold, it was what you’d learnt to prefer. There was, of course, merit to opening your eyes and being greeted by the luminous sight of blonde hair and copious amounts of nakedness. The sight would always be welcome, that remained undisputed. It was the urges you quarrelled with in the early hours of dawn that you had an issue with. You’d think that months of sleeping together would teach you some restraint. Alas, whenever you woke up to the sight of JJ, all you wanted to do was curl into her, wake her with soft, affectionate kisses and beg her to make you her signature chocolate chip pancakes.

That wasn’t written into your invisible contract. What was agreed, or what you decided was non-verbally agreed, was that you’d have sex, sometimes you’d stay for the night, and in the event you did, you’d be out of her hair before she started her day, so both of you and JJ were spared from any spontaneous love declarations.

Still, it didn’t make it any easier to remove JJ’s arms from around your waist, to quietly slip out of bed and force yourself not to look back lest you fall right back into her arms.

There was no chance you were returning home in the clothes you’d worn the night before; comfort was always essential for your walk of shame. So, you tip-toed over to JJ’s closet and slowly pulled the doors open. No matter how gentle you were, the hinges refused to allow you a peaceful exit, sending a painful squeak out into the morning quiet.

“Where are you going?” JJ grumbled, and you tried so fucking hard not to fall more in love with her when she did that. When she acted as though it was weird for you to leave before breakfast, like she wanted you to stay. It was helpless; when her droopy eyes locked onto yours, you felt your heart race and your stomach flutter. How could anyone look so perfect, having only just woken up?

“I’ve got a thing,” you muttered, throwing one of her sweatshirts over your head.

“A thing?” She gave you a cautionary look when she once again managed to catch your attention, her disbelief cutting a crease between her eyebrows. “It’s too early for a thing. Come back to bed.”

Why did she have to do that? Force you to break your heart by denying yourself the very thing you’d yearned for since the moment you met her.

“I’m having coffee with Pen.”

She begrudgingly sat up and levelled you with another condescending glare, “At this time?”

“Well, you see,” you said, staring back at JJ unstirred as you pulled on a pair of stolen leggings. “I have to go home and do this thing called having a shower so I don't meet our beloved friend looking and smelling like I spent a great portion of last night between your legs.”

“But-”

You strode over, bending at the hip to cut her off with a chaste kiss, ignoring the pull of your heart to fall back into bed and pick up where you left off last night. For a bit longer, pretend that this was a real relationship where you could kiss the woman you loved whenever and wherever you wanted.

“I’m going now,” you mumbled over her lips, ripping away to grab your phone and walk straight out of her bedroom.

You heard a heavy sigh, the thud of her head defeatedly falling back on a pillow as you clambered out of the apartment, heart tucked under your sleeve, tears stinging the backs of your eyes.

Taglist: @sincerestlove @hot4milfs @chestnutninny @theoneforhobbies @lez-talk1 @obsessedwjill | Click here to be added to the series taglist

#jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau x you #jennifer jareau smut #jennifer jareau angst #criminal minds x reader #jennifer jareau imagine #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau fanfiction #criminal minds #cm #Jennifer jareau x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction

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shadowdaddies · 7 months ago

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Hello girly, there is so little fics about Tarquin, so can I please request a Tarquin x mate!reader. Where she is a quiet and kind female, it would be cool if she was a "lesser fae" (like she has a tail or horns). She loves him and doesnt really want a role in court, she just wants to be there for him. Maybe the high lords dont know much about her, and there is a High Lords meeting and she randomly appears (maybe pregnant) and just some fluff, and Mor, Feyra and Viv being happy because there is another female to be frainds with

ahh I love this, there's definitely not enough fics for Prythian's Most Eligible Bachelor™. Thank you for the request!

Less is More

Tarquin x Reader

warnings: this does get a little steamy at the end

Taking practiced, steady breaths, you forced your pounding heart to slow and plastered on a confident smirk as you took long strides through the open doors.

Your hand was slick with sweat against Tarquin’s, your mate giving a reassuring squeeze while he guided you to walk slightly in front of him. Were you a weaker faun, you would have been smothered by the table’s gazes burning into you, but you were not weaker. You were a “lesser faerie” - or so that was your title given from the old High Fae - but you were High Lady of the Summer Court, and remembering that put the strength in your spine you needed as you took your seat.

Tarquin took his place next to you, turquoise eyes swimming with pride as he drank in the attention from the room. He feigned nonchalance, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before resting your hand atop his against the table. “Ah yes,” he laughed softly, raising your joined hands in display for the group of High Lords and Ladies. “Allow me to introduce my mate, the High Lady of the Summer Court.”

You smiled, unable to control the blush that bloomed upon your cheeks as Feyre gave you a polite smile and nod, Rhysand and Kallias both granting quiet congratulations.

It was Viviane who smirked, reclining back in her seat as she loosed a dramatic sigh. As the second High Lady in Prythian’s history after Feyre along with what you’d heard of her, you liked the female already. “It’s nice to have another High Lady at the table. Perhaps soon enough, each court will recognize their females as equals.”

Her icy blue eyes sparkled with amusement at the sight of flames on Beron’s fingertips, the High Lord of Autumn’s focus having never moved from the horns on your head, perfectly framed by your royal crown.

Conversely, Tarquin’s own stare never faltered, watching Beron with a predator’s gaze. He knew better than to bait the other High Lords - Tarquin found it better to rule as himself, a kind yet firm leader - and you admired him impossibly more for it.

“Welcome, High Lady. Let us begin,” Helion purred, his smooth voice emanating a deep power that seemed to bring Beron out of whatever anger-filled haze he was lost in. Murky brown eyes whipped to Helion, who returned the acknowledgment with a slight arch of his brow.

“Beron, if there is something you wish to lead the meeting with, please do so,” Helion drawled, his demeanor remaining cool despite noticeable efforts not to look past Beron to where the Lady of Autumn was seated. You made a mental note to ask Tarquin about that later, focused on keeping your chin high for the moment.

Beron’s eyes flicked between you and Feyre - the lesser fae and former human at the table - but wisely he remained silent. “Continue, Helion,” Beron ground out, and you had to bite back your smile at Rhys and Feyre’s wicked grins, darkness recoiling from where it had been ready to strike.

You sat through the meeting, listening to male egos battle each other over petty squabbles, only interjecting as you and Tarquin found necessary. It was easy to find where you would fit in with this group. While it was clear Autumn would never accept you and Dawn was ambivalent, you felt a fast kinship towards Night and Winter - unsurprising, given those courts were who your wise mate was most drawn to.

As soon as the meeting ended, Beron quickly cleared, leaving the Lady of Autumn to scurry behind him. Your heart hurt for her, her eyes tired as her eldest son seemed to be the only person who paid her any mind. The other High Lords dispersed, only Night and Winter lingering behind with Tarquin and you.

“Finally, that’s over!” the Night Court’s emissary, Morrigan, practically squealed as she maneuvered around the table to you, enveloping you in a warm hug.

A surprised laugh escaped you at her kind and gentle touch, the dichotomous nature of the Night Court’s leaders jarring despite Tarquin’s advance notice.

“So, would you tell us the story of how you and Tarquin met?” Viviane pressed, her arm looping through yours as Feyre fell into step alongside the both of you. You were surprised at how easy it was to talk with them - both High Fae from such different backgrounds - but you felt beyond blessed by the Mother for not only allies, but new friends through your role.

The crescent moon was high in the sky, stars twinkling impossibly bright when you felt the heavy need for sleep weigh upon you. You hadn’t even noticed your eyes struggling to stay open until familiar hands draped a jacket over your shoulders, and you stirred to see Feyre, Morrigan, and Viviane all slowly rising.

Bidding each of them a good night, you leaned into Tarquin’s warmth, savoring the calming scent of coconut and sea spray while he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your hair. He led your to the shared room in which you were staying, closing the door gently behind before peeling his jacket from your shoulders.

A whine escaped you at the sudden cold, and your mate chuckled, arms wrapping around you fully this time. Enveloped in his warmth, you settled against Tarquin’s chest and swayed to a silent melody, the rhythm of the ocean.

“You were incredible tonight,” he murmured against your neck. “You are always incredible, and yet you always blow me away with your grace and wisdom.”

He pressed another lingering kiss to your shoulder, working his way up to hover near your ear. Teeth tugged lightly on the skin of your earlobe, your mind growing dizzy with the sensations when he whispered, “I am so thankful, and honored, to have you as my mate and High Lady.”

Feeling the weight of the crown against your horns, you couldn’t help but tease him. “Horns and all?” but Tarquin’s eyes grew darker, turquoise eyes like a brewing sea storm.

He pulled your head to his toned chest, tongue flicking out against one of those sensitive horns. You mewled at the motion, the scent of the room changing with the fervor of arousal growing.

“Especially these,” he breathed, hoisting your legs around his hips before turning to toss you onto the mattress. You bounced against the silken sheets with a giggle, watching your mate lift his shirt over his head while his gaze raked unabashedly over every inch of your figure.

“Every part of you is perfect,” Tarquin whispered, white hair aglow in the light from the window, eyes shining with mischief as his body slid sinfully against your own.

“I love you,” you whispered, legs wrapping around his waist as you pulled him in for a passionate kiss. He once again kissed his way down your body, this time peeling away the fabric of your dress as he did so. Your consciousness drifted away at his touch, carnal feeling and deep emotion invading your senses while the only thought you could manage was that “forever is not long enough with this male.”

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simplydozing · 4 months ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥

Cardinal Copia x Reader She's finally here in all her glory. Copia is overwhelmed with emotion seeing his family finally coming together. Part 1 Word Count: 1142 || Ao3

ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ Ti ameró fino alla fine dei tempi = I'll love you until the ends of time (Poorly translated/Google translate)

Time flew since he’s come home, having only a few weeks left to spend with you until the baby was born.

The minute he stepped foot through those heavy wooden doors, he was on a mission to find you. Which in turn was a fruitless effort. You were already waiting for him, all swollen and teary-eyed from just your thoughts about him making it back. His first thing he does is pull you in for a long-awaited passionate kiss. He’ll then bring his focus down and whisper to your bump how much he missed you both, and press multiple kisses.

From then on, he did nothing but dote on you. He’d rarely leave your side, only doing so if there was a calling by the Clergy. Even then, he’d order a ghoul to take his place for the time being. It was always either the ghoulettes or Mountain. He took notes on who was the best to call on.

Did you know that Mountain imitates everything you do? When you sit, he sits in the same position you are. If you’re walking, he’s behind you with the same stride. You’re making something to eat? Cool, just let him grab the same stuff you have. He does all this to be as protective of you without being too overbearing.

The ghoulettes, on the contrary, love to pamper you. With them, you’re always in for a spa day or some sort of general relaxation. They’ll make a space to be as comfy as possible for you. They’ll indulge in some of your hobbies from knitting to reading.

Copia thanks whoever is with you and rewards them with all kinds of luxuries.

The nights were spent with you as close to him as you could be, wrapped in his arms. Sometimes, when he thought you were asleep, he'd scoot down and start talking to his daughter. There were countless conversations about how he would lay the world at her feet if he could. These were the times his mind would be at ease, pouring his heart out to her. He'd earn a flurry of kicks and movement in response. You could already tell she was going to be daddy's girl.

He spent everything to give you all the love you deserved, plus more.

Then, it was time.

You spent hours working through intense pain to bring her here, with Copia at your side at all times. He was just as scared, but he did his best not to show it. He'd clench your hand about as hard as you did his. There was constant praise and encouragement, forever drilling in your mind how amazing and strong you are and how you were never more beautiful than you were in this moment.

Any time you said “I can’t,” any time you cried out, he’d remind you of how far you’ve come.

Dawn turned to dusk, and you were so exhausted. But when the final stretch came and went with your little girl finally in your arms, you realized that you’d do it all again if it meant having her here with you both.

And Copia was so smitten. Seeing you holding her made him speechless. The sight before him was a renaissance that he couldn’t look away from. You were wrecked by your labor, but it was a magnificent scene to behold when you first held her, talking to her and calming her cries.

“Are you ready to hold her?”

He nods, closing his gaping mouth. He scoots closer, his movement is robotic. He holds his arms out.

They’re shaky. Lucifer, he’s so nervous. He shouldn’t be, with all the things he’s done not only for her but for you. He’s waited so long for this, what if he messes up?

Everything goes by in slow motion. You help position him to hold her properly. He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels a weight.

And my god, isn’t it spectacular?

He lets out a breathless gasp at the mere first glimpse of her.

She’s here, with him, with you. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him since marrying you. She’s the most perfect thing he ever saw.

He’s unaware of the tears streaming down his smudged face.

She awakens, and is startled at the new face staring at her. She begins to wail, but he acts on instinct to quieten her once more.

“Shh, mia stellina. It’s your papa,” he ever so slightly rocks her.

“Don’t be scared.”

He brings a hand to caress her little face, and you could not believe how quick it was for her to settle.

“Yeah, you know me, don’t you? You recognize who I am?”

She squeaks and nestles in the soft blanket that swaddled her. Her hand grasps his thumb, tiny fingers barely wrapping around it. This makes his heart nearly explode.

“She’s so small,” he hardly speaks above a whisper.

“She’s the spitting image of you. You saw her eyes, right?”

She has his eyes, the left being pale and pallid of color.

You both marvel at her sleeping form. Everything about her derives from him, from her nose to her chin.

You did say you wanted a mini version of him, and to see that your prayers were answered brought so much joy to your heart.

“Have you thought of names?” He asked with a twinge of guilt. He hadn’t found or thought of anything for her.

“I have, actually,” you hummed. You lean over to get another view of her face.

“I was thinking…. Cynthia?”

He perks up at the speed of sound, locking eyes with you.

“A-After my…” he trails off, being on the verge of spilling.

“After your mother,” your hand places on top of his that’s holding her head.

“Cynthia Vittoria.”

“Cynthia… Vittoria,” he faintly echoes.

He breaks his gaze from yours, looking back at her.

It’s perfect, nothing better suits her.

He kisses her on the nose, and touches foreheads with her.

”Ti ameró fino alla fine dei tempi.”

Your eyes welled up again, treasuring this memory for eternity.

He looks at her with the same devotion he shows you. His state is more relaxed, looking as if he was made for this. And in a way, he was.

You could stay and watch him babble to her for hours on end, but your work is catching up with you. Heavy eyelids struggle to stay open. You curl up against the infirmary pillow, keeping your family in your sight as you drift off.

Copia took advantage of this, and began singing to the both of you.

Life Eternal.

The same song he sang to you when you first started courting him.

And now, he was finally able to sing to his daughter, just like he said he would all those months ago.

#♥︎#ghost #ghost the band #ghost band fanfic #ghost band #ghost band x reader #ghost band x you #the band ghost #the band ghost x reader #the band ghost x you #ghost bc #ghost bc x reader #ghost bc x you #cardinal copia #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia x you #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus iv x you

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potatoplace · 2 months ago

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You Can Have It - Chapter 3

Alpha!Feysand x Omega!Reader

chapter 2 | chapter 4 | series masterlist

Story Summary: You've been a baker for 75 years, and are finally moving on from the Winter Court to the City of Velaris to start your own bakery after your grandmother passes. After your grand opening, the High Lord and Lady of Night become daily visitors to your bakery for months, every day having your most popular pastry- one that increases fertility for a short time. All the while, the two alphas want nothing more than to call themselves yours.

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, no rhys and feyre 😠

Words: ~5.3k

Author's Note: it's here! There will be a second chapter posted soon as well, I needed to cut this one in half otherwise it won't fit in one post. And I rlly want to get to the scene meeting Rhys and Feyre aaaahhhhh I hope you guys like this chapter!

18+ only pls

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Tuesday had passed quickly for you, spent with you writing down everything you needed for your bakery, the apartment, and garden in the building process.

You had a visions in your head for exactly how it should look- a log cabin similar in style to those in Winter, with a set of stained glass double doors depicting the cycle of dawn, day, and night during the winter season. The main floor of the bakery would be divided into two parts, with the actual kitchen area being in the back, separated by a wall stretching two thirds of the way across, leaving an open archway to connect the two on the left side. Windows of course, some in the front of the bakery as well as along the sides, and one that takes up most of the back wall of the kitchen, so that you’ll always be able to stare out the Sidra while preparing you baked goods.

At the far right of the kitchen, away from the access into the shop, you were going to have a spiral staircase leading up to your apartment if that was a possibility.

Upstairs, you would have a personal kitchen of your own, also against right side of the back wall of the building, with another large window to offer you the same benefit as the floor below. To the left you’d have your bathroom, sectioned off with walls- you were most excited about the large, possibly custom tub you’d have put in, with more than enough room for you to soak with your wings in the water if you wished.

The indoor part of the upstairs should cover about two thirds of the top floor, with your bedroom not separated by a wall from the kitchen. You wanted to feel free and open in your new home. That left the rest of the second floor for your small garden you were planning to have. Viviane had made sure you knew that you could take some of the plants your grandmother had lovingly planted and tended to. She had loved that garden so much, and had done as much as she could to revive the garden after coming back from captivity, teaching you to tend to them before her cursed illness had gotten too bad.

You were planning to have the space enchanted to act as a temperature controlled greenhouse, that way the frail Winter native plants could survive even in the summer. Among them would be a few bushes: hornberry, the fertility enhancing berries, chillberry, which grow berries that help to alleviate heats, and saiberry, a helpful berry and leaf for reducing the symptoms of ruts. You would also have a variety of medicinal herbs that you used in your pastries related to general health.

You were beyond excited to start drawing up the plans for the building as soon as you had the proper permits. When you went to bed that night, it was all you could think about.

Wednesday morning, you awoke to a note from Marcus, telling you that the demolition and construction permits were approved, and to get yourself over to your lot as soon as you could.

It was only seven in the morning, but you rushed to dress for the winter weather quickly, flying down the stairs and quickly but carefully making your way to the Rainbow.

More snow had fallen overnight, and hardly anyone was out at this time. Most of the streets were still untouched by fae, and silent with the extra help of the snow. You reached the edge of the Rainbow quickly, and spotted Marcus among a dozen other men, all dressed warmly and carrying a variety of construction tools or busying themselves with the two large carts in the middle of the street, attached to two massive horses.

“Y/N!” Marcus exclaimed as soon as he met your eyes, marching over to you and pulling you back to the group. “This is our new boss for the next couple of months, gents, be nice to her, alright?” The men all nodded their heads in agreement, keeping their eyes respectful when they did dart across your form, though many lingered on your wings. “So, Y/N, would you like to take the first swing?” Marcus asked you, already handing you a heavy sledgehammer.

“Why not?” You said lightly, approaching the dilapidated building. You took a swing at one of the windows, and glass went flying into the building. The males behind you whooped, then followed your lead and began tearing down the building as quickly and effectively as they could. You turned back to Marcus, handing him the sledgehammer.

“Y/N, if you’re available now, I’d like to start drawing up the floor plans for your bakery,” Marcus suggested, and your face broke into a grin.

“I’d love nothing more than that, Marcus. But, could we get breakfast first? I came as soon as I woke up,” you said, blushing when your stomach growled, as if to prove your point.

Marcus only chuckled and took your arm, leading you East to the Palace of Flame and Steel. “Of course we can get breakfast, there’s this cute little restaurant that should be open right now, they serve some amazing breakfast foods there.”

As promised, the food in the cozy restaurant was delicious. You’d had a scramble with potatoes, peppers, onions, and sausage, topped with a good amount of cheese. The two of you left feeling stuffed, and made your way to his office, shucking off your winter gear and hanging it on the hooks near the door.

Marcus quickly started a fire in the fireplace, adding some much appreciated heat to the room. The two of you settled in around his desk, and Marcus pulled out a notepad, quill and ink.

"So, do you know what type of building you'd like? Brick, stone, wood..."

"I'd prefer having a log cabin style of building, if that's a possibility," you said, hoping that it would be.

Marcus smiled at you and wrote down your answer. "Of course we can, and we can even go to the lumber yard in a couple of days to pick out the type of wood you'd like, Y/N. Now... what were you thinking for the floor plan?"

"I want it to be a two story building, with the top floor being dedicated as an apartment and also a garden, if everything works out."

"A garden on the second floor?"

You nodded your head. "Yes, I'm planning to have it enchanted so that I can grow some Winter crops year round, and they'll be safer off the ground, I think."

"Alright, that should be doable enough. If you'd like I can direct you to an interior designer who also specializes in home and business enchantments, she should be able to make that garden happen for you."

"Perfect!" You said, clapping your hands together excitedly. Everything was already seeming possible.

The two of you spent the next five hours going over every detail that you wanted built into the building, and by the end of it he had a preliminary sketch of the building.

"The main problem with your spiral staircase would be getting the tub and furniture up and down the stairs. I do happen to have a couple of Illyrians working in my company right now, so we should be able to get the tub up before the roof's construction is done, but the furniture would most likely need to be fully assembled upstairs, or we fly it in before the roof is finished."

You bit your lip for a moment, considering your options. "That would be fine, getting everything in before the roof is finished. Would there be any problems with doing that?"

Marcus shook his head. "No, it's more just something to consider. The spiral staircase will save you some space, so it's a good idea for your floor plan to keep as much space on the first floor for the bakery. Go ahead and look over the blueprint, and tell me if anything is off." He slid the paper over to you, careful not to smear any of the still drying ink.

Your eyes greedily took in the floor plans, already looking exactly how you wanted it. The main floor was divided in the way you had pictured, and the kitchen would be wide enough to accommodate your wings and even another person, if you ended up needing to hire someone to help you.

Only one thing was missing, something you'd hadn't thought of until now.

"Would it be possible to have a fireplace on both floors? On the main floor, about halfway through the front room and on the left, and on the top floor one on the right, after the spiral staircase?"

Marcus looked at the plans for a moment before answering you. "Yes, that should be doable, especially if we allow the chimney to stick out and along the side of the building for the first floor one." He quickly sketched in the fireplace on the floor plan, then turned to the exterior mock up and added the chimney to the side. "Does that look fine to you?"

"Yes, that looks perfect! Thank you!"

"It's no problem, Y/N," Marcus said with a soft smile. "If you think of anything else you'd like in the blueprints, you can either send me a note with it or come here, I'm normally in from six in the morning to six at night."

"I'll make sure to let you know, but I honestly think we got everything down!" You said excitedly.

"I'm glad to hear that, Y/N. The tear down process should be finished by the end of the week, including getting someone in to cast a charm to keep snow from falling over the lot. Then the actual building process after that, as long as everything goes right and all we need to build is available, shouldn’t take more than two months. Now, would you like me to show you to that interior designer I mentioned?" He offered.

"Oh, I'd love that!" Right as you said it, your stomach growled loudly once again. You looked up at him sheepishly. "Want to go to lunch first?" You asked with a chuckle.

"I'd love that," Marcus replied, already standing from his chair and stretching.

You did the same, finally feeling the tension that had built in your body from sitting for so long. Your wings fluttered slightly as they stretched, before you finally relaxed once more.

The two of you threw on your outerwear again and headed out of Marcus's office, and you let him lead you to another restaurant, a different one than this morning.

"This is my favorite spot for lunch, they have these delicious sandwiches," Marcus said as he held the door open for you, letting you walk in first before following you.

It smelled heavenly inside, and if your watering mouth was anything to go by, you knew he was correct.

"I'll have whatever you're having," you told Marcus before he stepped up to the counter. "I'm sure whatever it is will be tasty, but I can't choose between all of those options," you laughed.

"That's fine, Y/N. Any foods you want to avoid?" Marcus asked, looking down at you as you shook your head. "Alright then." He stepped up to the counter, you following right behind him. "We'll have two of your cheesesteaks, please.” Marcus went to hand over his bank card like he had for breakfast this morning, but you beat him to it, grinning at him when he put his card away while shaking his head, a matching expression on his face.

After you paid, the two of you took a seat at a table near the windows, only waiting a couple of minutes to be served your sandwiches. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem, dearie,” the older high fae said with a smile before she walked back behind the counter.

“And thank you, Y/N, for buying me this delicious lunch,” Marcus said to you, right before taking a large bite of his sandwich.

“Well, you did pay for breakfast,” you said before you followed suit, finding the sandwich made of thinly sliced beef, onions, peppers, and cheese to be just as good as he’d said it would be.

“How’s Velaris been treating you so far?” He asked you after a few minutes.

You swallowed your bite, then said “It’s been really nice so far, everyone’s been very welcoming and I just feel so lucky to be here, and already be making so much progress on my business.”

Marcus smiled at you. “I’m glad to hear it, Y/N. I hope everything continues to go your way.”

“Same here. How’s your life been treating you?”

“Oh, it’s going well right now. My business has been doing better than ever in the past two years since I had a contract with the High Lady, and I happen to have a very sweet new client,” Marcus replied, and his words made you blush.

“That’s good to hear. What was it like working for the High Lady?”

“Feyre and the High Lord, Rhys, were both extremely easy to work with, pretty similar to how it’s been working with you. They knew exactly what they wanted and were good at describing it. It was an honor to work with them, and one of the best experiences I’ve had since taking over the business.”

“They sound like a lovely pair of rulers for the Court, then.”

“Oh yes, I feel we are one of the best treated cities in all of Prythian. And they’ve even begun taking steps to change how Illyria and the Hewn City are run,” Marcus added.

The two of you finished eating, and all you could think of was the High Lord and Lady, and that all of the good you’d heard about them in Winter had to be true, if Marcus, a citizen of Velaris, believed it to be true as well.

“Now, let’s get you to Gabrella’s shop, she is newer to the business, only having moved here five years ago, but all of my clients that I’ve sent to her have nothing but good things to say about her,” Marcus said, extending an arm to you after he’d returned your plates to the front counter.

He led you a few blocks away from the restaurant, deeper into the Palace of Flame and Steel. The two of you stopped in front of cute, red brick building with flower beds lining the front, covered in snow at the moment. Marcus opened the door for you, and you stepped inside, immediately loving the cozy feel of the shop, and you spotted an fae female, with large, black leathery wings coming from her back.

They were absolutely beautiful.

You’d heard of Illyrians before, and as a child had thought that wings without feathers could not possibly be pretty, but your child self was proved wrong the moment you laid eyes on her wings.

“Welcome in- oh, Marcus! Another client of yours, I presume?” The fae asked as the two of you made your way back to the counter she was seated at.

Her smell hit you, a sweet blend of mountain air, honey, and some type of berry that you couldn’t quite place- an omega. That instantly put you at ease. It’s not that Marcus’s scent wasn’t nice, the snow and pine mix was pleasant, but knowing that at least one of the people you’d be working with for the next couple of months is an omega was calming.

“Yes, my name is Y/N. I’m going to be opening a bakery with an apartment upstairs in the Rainbow soon, and Marcus is helping with the construction aspect. He said that you’re an interior designer?”

The Illyrian nodded her head and replied, “Yes, my name is Gabrella. I do interior design work and household and business enchantments.”

“Would you be able to show her a bit of your work, Rella?” Marcus asked. “She’s wanting a greenhouse for year round Winter native plants, and I know you just recently finished something similar.”

Gabrella’s eyes lit up at that, and she stood from her spot behind the counter. “I would be delighted to show you something like that, Y/N. Marcus, you can come too, if you don’t have anything else to do.”

Marcus looked at the clock on the wall to the left, sighing when he saw the time. “No, I should be getting back to check on the boys, make sure the demolition is going to plan,” he said, making his way to the door. “Y/N, remember that you can come by my office from six to six if you need anything, and you’re always free to stop by your lot at any time, alright?”

“Thanks you, Marcus. I’ll probably see you sometime tomorrow.”

“That sounds good,” he said, leaving with a wave.

“Bye Marcus!” Gabrella said right before he shut the door. “Alright, Y/N, I’ll have you come upstairs with me, my garden is on the third floor.”

You followed the other fae up the stairs, then up one more set, coming out onto a beautiful rooftop garden, filled with lovely blossoming tropical flowers. The air was warm and humid, even with their being no walls or roof.

“This is amazing,” you said, trailing your hands over a few of the blooms lightly. “How were you able to do this?” You asked, turning to Gabrella.

“Well, it took a couple of years for me to get the enchantments perfect, but it’s not too different from doing an indoor temperature control charm. It does require a bit more magical power, especially if the plants need any else besides the temperature controlled. Like the humidity, that was the part that took me the longest to get down, but now that I have, all of my sweet little plants are thriving,” Gabrella explained, looking down fondly at all of the flowers she’d been able to grow thanks to her magical talent.

“Would you be able to do something similar for me?” You asked hopefully.

“I believe I could, it may take a couple of tries to get the climate just right for you. Do you have an idea of when your building will be finished enough to start the garden?”

“Not quite, though Marcus said the whole process should take a little over two months. I’m just not sure when the second floor would be available to put the garden and enchantments in.”

“That’s perfectly fine, we can play it by ear. Were you wanting my services for anything else?” Gabrella asked, gesturing for you to head back downstairs.

“Yes, I was hoping that you would be my interior designer as well, along with any other enchantments I’d need for my building.”

“Wonderful, I’ll grab a contract for you right now,” Gabrella said after you took a seat in one of the stools in front of the counter. She rifled through a filing cabinet, pulling out a few pieces of paper. “Alright, before anything gets signed, I’d like to know what type of enchantments you’re going to want, as well as the areas of interior design you’d like help with.”

“Obviously you know about the garden,” you said, and the both of you chuckled as she wrote it down. “Plus temperature control for both floors of the building, a fireproofing charm for the kitchen if you’re able to do that.”

“Oh, yes, that’s a popular one, with the city being tightly packed everyone wants to avoid causing a fire in case it takes out a whole neighborhood,” Gabrella said. “Were you going to have a kitchen in the apartment upstairs?”

“Yes, I can’t believe I forgot to mention that,” you laughed, surprised that you were missing a few details. It had to be all the excitement, you had been drawing up floor plans all day. “Do you do plumbing enchantments?”

“Mhm, as long as you have actual plumbing pipes installed in the building, we’re able to get hot and cold water running, as well as connect it to the city’s sewer system,” she answered. “Knowing Marcus, he’s already gone over that with you?”

You nodded your head. “He sure did, he was very adamant in making sure I knew where all of the pipes would be going through the wall.”

“Yes, he’s very thorough like that. That’s why he’s one of the most in demand builders during the typical construction season. Did you have any other enchantments you were hoping for? If you can’t think of them now, I’m always able to add to your total bill, it’s just better in my experience to have as full a picture of the cost before we begin doing the actual work.”

You wracked your brain for any other spells you might need- “I’d like an enchantment that will keep the scent and sounds of the second floor separate from the first floor,” you stated, heat rising to your cheeks.

“That’s a good one!” Gabrella said enthusiastically, writing it down on the paper. “It’s very helpful for if you want to keep your business open with another staff member while you’re in heat, I have that one on my own apartment upstairs,” the omega said with a kind smile. “Anything else, or should we move on to the interior design portion?”

You couldn’t think of another enchantment you might need at the moment. “Interior design, but I’ll let you know if I think of something else.”

“Very good. For the bakery portion, what were you wanting help with?”

“I’d definitely like your help in picking out the furniture, the appliances, and the general look of the inside, and any recommendations or help with a stained glass artist that creates door panels. I do know generally what I want it to look like, but being new to town I would have no idea of where to start.” You thought about that for a moment. “So pretty much everything about it, I’d like your help with,” you giggled.

Gabrella joined you, her laugh so pleasant and fun. “That’s perfectly fine, I love helping create an entire vision! They’re the most fun for me, when my client knows exactly what they want and we just have to scavenger hunt for it all around the city.”

“That’s good, otherwise this would be a real chore for you,” you said jokingly, already loving Gabrella’s personality.

“For the second floor, what were you wanting help with?”

“Most everything again, though with the bedroom I’ll need a bit less help, nesting needs are pretty easy to satisfy on your own,” you replied, mind conjuring a soft nest filled with fabrics in light blues, silver, and white.

“I get that, nests and bedrooms are so personal to us omegas.” Gabrella’s smile was soft as she finished writing everything down. “Alright, I believe with the number and complexity of some of the enchantments, that part will run you for around 50,000 gold marks, and we do offer lifetime warranties on all of them. So if one starts to go faulty, just stop by and I’ll come and fix it as soon as I can for you. And the interior design portion will be around 25,000, and that will include the price of most items, delivery of them, and getting everything in place for you, as well as my help and advice in picking out items. Does a total of 75,000 gold marks sound reasonable to you, with these terms?” Gabrella asked, sliding a contract over to you.

You read it, including the warranty, and thought it all sounded perfectly reasonable. You picked up the extra quill she had sitting in an ink pot and signed your name to the contract. “Yes, this all sounds fine to me. Did you want to take payment now, or later?”

“If you have your bank card on you at the moment-” you were already pulling it out. “Then I’ll take a fifty percent deposit for a total of 37,500 gold marks now, and once the project is complete I’ll take the other half of the payment, plus or minus however much it falls from the estimate.” She pressed your bank card to the ledger on her desk, then handed it back to you. “I’m so happy to get to work with you, Y/N. You seem like a lovely person so far, and I do love a good bakery.”

“I’m looking forward to working with you as well, Gabrella. And I’m glad to know another omega in the city, I’ve only met one other omega here so far.”

“Yes, there aren’t too many of us here, but it’s so safe and free, I think we have a higher population of omegas than most other cities in Prythian. I’m sure you’ll meet more soon enough. Also, you can call me Rella. We’ll be working together for a while, and I have this funny little feeling that we’ll be friends,” Rella said kindly. “Now, would you like to go look at some kitchen stoves and counters if you have time?”

You beamed- nothing would have excited you more at the moment. “I would love to do that, it’s one of the areas I’m looking forward to furnishing most!”

Rella offered her arm to you, which you gladly took. “Perfect! Now, what type of color scheme were you wanting for the kitchen? It might change which shops we go to.”

“I think… soft pastels? Possibly winter themed, or maybe in pinks.”

Rella grinned at you. “I’m liking you more and more with every passing minute,” she said, dragging you away from her shop after locking it up. “We’re going to Arana’s shop, she has the cutest kitchen and dining room furniture you will every see!”

In a few minutes, after a couple of twists and turns through the streets, you arrived at a pastel pink shop, looking very much out of place next to the mostly dark, wooden building surrounding it. Rella pulled you inside, shouting “Arana! I have a new client, you’re going to love her!”

A female stepped out from a back room, ice blonde hair and white wings at her back.

Peregryn. Another Peregryn.

You’d only ever met you’d mother, no others of your kind before. And as you got closer to her- and omega, with a soft scent of pine, cinnamon, and fresh air.

“Well, it’s rare to meet another Peregryn in Velaris, my name is Arana. And yours is…?”

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you,” you said as you shook her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” Arana responded warmly. “You said she’s a client of yours, Rella?”

“Yes, she’s building a bakery in the Rainbow-”

“Wonderful! I’ve been wanting a bakery on this side of the Sidra for so long, I hate walking all the way over to the other side in the winter,” Arana interrupted, the looked to Rella sheepishly. “Sorry, Rella, go on please?”

“I know, I’m excited about it too,” Rella laughed. “Shes working with Marcus, and it sounds like they’re still in the process of tearing down the previous building, but the two of us would like to start looking for furniture, countertops, and of course stoves.”

“Oh, is it gonna be a cute bakery?” Arana asked hopefully, and you nodded your head.

“Yes, it’s going to look like a log cabin, and I’m hoping the furniture I get will make it look cute and cozy inside!” You gush, so happy that there are people already excited about your business, even if you were going to be paying them a lot of money in the process. The two of them sound genuinely excited about it, so that didn’t matter.

“Oh, you’ll need log chairs, probably with a selection of different colors of cushions, maybe even some log benches, plus log tables of course to go with the little log theme-”

“All of that sounds great! Do you have any in here?” You asked, already wanting to see some.

“I don’t have any log furniture at the moment, but the shop next door does. I’ll be able to provide the cushions for them, though I’d recommend waiting to pick them out until you know the type of wood you’re using, so that you get the best color match,” Arana offered, pointing to the shop east of hers. “I do have plenty of stove and countertop options, if you’re wanting to go for bright colors in the kitchen. And I do make display cases as well, when you’re ready to look for those.”

You smiled in excitement and said, “Show me the stoves, please.”

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

The three of you spent the next few hours looking at all Arana had to offer, and you found many different options that you liked. It all depended on what color scheme you ended up going with, but whether it would be done in blues, whites, and silvers or in soft pinks and purples, you were sure you’d be buying from Arana’s store.

The designs and sturdiness of her furnishings were perfect in your opinion, and you were so excited to see your kitchen come together once the building was finished.

You and Rella waved goodbye to Arana as you departed, promising to come back in a few weeks to finalize your decisions, having been sent home with a pamphlet filled with the designs of furniture she offered so that you could think on it further.

You and Rella parted at her shop, leaving you to walk back to the Inn alone, relishing in the sounds of the city as it came alive for the night.

It was nearly seven in the evening when you passed by a restaurant at the end of the Palace of Hoof and Leaf, right next to the bridge that would get you home. The smell coming from the restaurant was heavenly, full of garlic and smelling as though it could burn your tongue with the spice alone. You entered the restaurant, and were quickly seated at the bar, admiring the lively atmosphere before looking over the menu. They served noodle bowls, most of them having a between three and five little peppers drawn next to their names. Judging by the smell in the air, you wouldn’t survive more than a two pepper dish, so you choose the one that had the most garlic in it, sautéed with chicken, zucchini, green cabbage and onions, and of course noodles.

The dish you got was fantastic, as garlicky as you’d hoped for and spicy enough to bring tears to your eyes.

All of the food you’d had in Velaris so far was amazing, and you were excited to delve further into the cookbook that you had back in your room, if these were the types of recipes that were waiting for you.

After paying, you made your way back to the inn more slowly than before, taking time to admire the people skating on the now frozen over Sidra. Everyone seemed to be happy.

It was nice to be a part of that, of a city so joyous at all times.

By the time you made it to your room, it was past eight, and you wanted nothing more than a hot bath and some sleep.

You stripped out of your dress after taking off your outerwear and boots, then peeled off your tights and underthings. You would need to do laundry soon, but that’s a problem for tomorrow.

Your bath was lovely, the hot water warming you nicely and stealing the tension from your muscles. Your bed was even lovelier, so fluffy and soft, and you drifted off to sleep just a few minutes after your head landed on the pillow.

Series Taglist: @icey--stars @breadsticks2004

#you can have it #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o #acotar omegaverse #alpha!feyre x omega!reader x alpha!rhys #alpha!feysand x omega!reader #acotar a/b/o #omega!reader #feysand x reader omegaverse #feysand x reader #acotar fic #acotar #acotar fanfic #poly!feysand x reader #tato writes

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kurokawaia · 4 months ago

Text

❛ Marriage ❜ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ²

Lan Wangji X Fem!Reader

WC; 5.4k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW; x fem! reader, afab reader, cunnilingus, oral -> female receiving, overstimulation, come eating, squirting, virginity taking, slightly rough sex, cervix kissing, hickies, marking + probably more i can't think of lmao

REQUEST? YES (link to the request)\

⋆·˚ �� * 𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮𝐼𝒮 :: When her husband comes back to Jingshi reader asks for Lan Wangji to consummate their marriage because she believes its her duty to do so, to satisfy him in bed. Wangji only takes this so far by giving his pretty wife head. Only then a few nights later, Wangji comes home late from hunting and then there they make love to each other.

1.4k more than what i intended to write but thats okay...

part 1 | part 2

m.list | mo dao zu shi m.list

The night air was cool, crisp, with just a low noise of nocturnal creatures stirring in the darkness. The moon cast its silver light onto the landscape; in vain, it was unable to still your fidgeting. Lan Wangji had gone on a night hunt, so he had left you alone in your chambers. That is one of those moments when all will be well, and you know how capable he is at anything bound to come his way, but yet something nags in the pit in your stomach at his absence beside you, to put all at rest.

Those hours ticked so slowly, every single minute pulling on for such a length of time. You walked up and down the room, him on your mind all the while. The strong, silent support had just interwoven itself into the bedrock of your existence, and now that it was gone… you were lost. Finally, you could take the taut silence no longer and went to stand by the window, looking out into the darkness in the vain hope that his familiar silhouette would come toward you.

You finally heard the sound of footsteps as the first light of dawn tinged the world beyond. Your heart lifted within your chest as the door creaked open and you turned to face him. It was Lan Wangji. His robes were not as immaculate as they usually were—slightly ruffled by the night's activities—but his eyes were clear, the calmness sculpted into them once more.

"Wangji," you breathed, feeling the wash of relief from head to toe as he finally arrived.

He stood there, his eyes locking on yours, and even the tension in your shoulders seemed to leave you. "It was a quiet night," he repeated, his voice level and reassuring.

At his words though, you could feel the barrier that time and fate had thrown up like an invisible wall between you, the same one that haunted your marriage. With feelings heightened by his absence, you felt a desperate need to close this gap tonight more than ever.

"Wangji," you started hesitantly, your voice quivering with fear. "I've been considering… about us, about our marriage."

His brow furrowed slightly, a hint of his concern in those eyes. "{Y/n}, you should rest. It has been a long night."

You shook your head as determination thrummed in your heart. "No, I have to say this. I understand the why of our marriage—the duty and the honor—but I want more. I want to be close to you. I want us to be truly united, not just in name."

He took a step closer, his gaze unbreaking from yours. "We are already so close, my bondmate; we do not have to be in a hurry."

He inhaled deeply, summoning all his courage. "Please. Lan Zhan."

The moment his birth name left your lips, something in him shifted. His calm and cool exterior shattered, and raw emotion flirted in his eyes. In a second, there he was in front of you, cupping your face with his hands as he captured your lips with his in a fervent kiss. This kiss had the intensity of everything compacted into it that left you breathless.

Breathe hard, his forehead hung over yours, the moment he let you go. "You don't even know how badly I wanted to hear you say my name, without my telling you, since the moment we met," he said, his voice hoarse with longing. "But we can't rush into it. Not until you're really ready."

You nodded with his words, even as your heart almost broke with longing. "I get it," you whispered, your eyes filling, "I just. I want to be close to you."

He brushed a tear off your cheek with his thumb, not really touching your face. "Fine."

At that sudden change of heart, shock moved your eyes up to his. "For real?" you said, a slight shake in your voice.

"So you want this, don't you?" Wangji asked you.

How Lan Wangji has waited for this moment. Wangji wants his wife with some untranslatable primal need, but he doesn't want to take away her virginity just because she feels it's her responsibility to do so. He wants to wait for that moment where his wife grows to desire him as he does her.

Wangji wants her to love him—really love him—but he gets no prize for refusing her when she looks at him like that, all piteously wide, doe-eyed stare.

The breath on your face was warm, steady, almost demanding, and Lan Wangji's arms held on a fraction tighter. Pulling back a little, you met his gaze. Inside the inferno of your chest, his eyes were burning.

"Lanzhan," you whispered back, his birth name seeming more right on your lips.

His eyes had softened to the sound, and you almost could read the longing and love he held for you. You couldn't contain yourself, so you bent down over him, pressing a gentle kiss onto his forehead. He tensed slightly under your touch.

You went on, bestowing soft kisses all over his face, on the bridge of his nose, on his cheeks, in the corners of his eyes. Each kiss was a promise, an unspoken word of just how much you felt your love for him would overpower you. His skin was warm under the press of your lips, and you felt his heart quicken.

"Zhan," you murmured between the kisses, "I want to show you how much you mean to me."

His hands drew a little tighter, the knuckles digging into the fabric of your robes, one at your back and another at the side. His eyes slammed shut as, with a small exhale, his lips parted ever so slightly. You kept peppering his face with soft kisses, light as feathers but so ripe of emotion.

Finally, when pulling back, his eyes slowly opened again, this time all darkened with desire towards and something deeper, more profound in nature. He reached out and cupped your face with one hand, his thumb tenderly stroking your cheek.

"You are everything to me," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "But we must take this slow. I want you to be ready."

"I am! Please, Lan Zhan," you beg, though it felt like you had to do this since you are husband and wife, but there was a throbbing need in you, a need to have him touching your body, to have him fill you up to the brim.

"Lay down on the bed," crooned Wangji as he followed your movement down to the bed, and you hesitantly lay down.

This was your duty as a wife now wasn't it? You have to make sure you please Lan Wangji, alright. Lan Wangji was trying so hard to give a shit as he had his own urges. He has been in love with you for much longer than he can remember and here you are, wanting to please him, willing to have his cock stretch out your pretty pink virgin cunt.

But he won't take you tonight, he'll savor you tonight, having you beg for more on his tongue until you can't even think straight. Until you recognize your feelings for him.

Lan Wangji unties your pretty white and blue hanfu robes, the colored robes that distinguish you as a Lan, that display that you are the Hanguang-Jun's wife.

Even more, you are lying naked on the bed, while he was fully clothed. You didn't know what to do or say because you are his wife; hence he could do with you whatever he wants, and him doing anything with you did not include you asking any questions about it.

"Just stay still and don't move," Wangji said, and you nodded at his serious statement. He was just dying to take you right there and then. You looked so small, vulnerable beneath his broad, huge body. You nodded at his stern statement, underlining the word 'don't', as your body stiffened rigid underneath him. He almost held that lingering fear inside him that maybe you would break.

Wangji brushes that thought out and gets things going to feel the good. Not that he feels the same about it, he does this so that you would later understand how much you would need him physically.

Wangji cranes his neck forward, pressing kisses to your soaked clit through your underwear, making you want to clench your thighs around his head. His head was in the way of you doing so, Wangji's hands gripped onto your thighs, reminding you of your place.

"Lan Zhan," you breath out, not knowing what to do at the foreign sensation.

He simply showed no desire to stop, because after all, he was doing it not just to satisfy his needs. Your soft thighs were locked on his broad shoulders, holding you in bed. He did this not just to satisfy himself, but also for your good. Lan Wangji really wished you to wake up to your needs; otherwise, he would do something he'd regret.

You moaned, hands getting knotted within his long black locks. His bun at the top of his head had come loose, and the essence of his back fell free. Your back wanted to arch away from the tingling sensation, to squirm out of his hold, but you were immobilized—utterly weak under his touch.

"You, stop moving," he intones with a milder iratedness and you obey, trying your utmost not to twitch with the kisses he lathers onto your clit through your wet panties. Lan Wangji moves the fabric to the side, baring your wet folds, and he doesn't hesitate. '

He waited for far too long to finally have a taste of you, and Lan Wangji was going to enjoy himself like there was nobody else there—with you, with your puffy little clit between his lips, sucking it until you came over and over again, with his tongue. Push you with his tongue into overheating.

The grip on your thighs strengthens as you feel his nose bump against your sensitive clit, and your fingers tighten on the hold you had on his hair. A mewl slipped past your plump lips, and the groan of satisfaction rippled through him into your folds. His tongue drags from your soaked hole up to your clit, and moans slip from your lips.

You're desperate to remain quiet and not make any of those lewd noises ring out past your mouth. One of your hands falls from his hair and moves up to cover your mouth which Lan Wangji didn't like one bit.

"You cover your mouth again and I won't be too nice," Lan Wangji says sternly, pulling your hand away from your mouth, which causes a yelp to leave your lips.

Lan Wangji wants you moaning, whimpering as loud as possible, with your head thrown back hard against the fluffy pillows beneath you and your back arched into his tongue, that is sucking lewdly on your aching clit.

That was the moment when thighs clenched around his head through his restrictive hold, and a moan reverberated into your clit that made you grind down against his face. A chant of his name was spilled from your lips, and he reveled in every second of it.

"Lan! Fee. Zhan! Fee.funny!" You whimpered out, that weird feeling in your stomach as something built up inside you, and you didn't know what it was. "Zhan! St'op!! Fee. weird!!"

"Shhh," Lan Wangji cooed to you against your clit, and you moaned again, the coil in your stomach growing tighter. "You getting close, that's all."

Your eyes widened as he said it. This is what an orgasm would grow to feel like. It feels so good. Closer to your orgasm, two fingers pushed through your folds into your gummy walls, and they immediately found their place. Fingers pressed up against that soft spot deep inside your walls every time he curled his fingers when he inserted them in at a quick pass.

"Yes, that's it, {Y/n}," he moaned against you, his hips rutting into the mattress, trying to relieve some sort of sexual buildup that was anything but getting better.

He was in such dire need of you.

The way your hips pushed back into that rough grind onto his face elicited a groan from you. "Good girl," he praised.

You chant his name, broken letters, and his movements, quicker, hungrier; the single hold he had on your thigh clamped tighter. The coil in your stomach just wound tighter, and the fingers locked more around his locks; they kept him in place, but he groaned more into your folds.

It only pushed me right over the edge, for a moan to spill from the lips at the moment that he pressed his tongue hard against my clit—what was once a soft scream leaving your mouth. The coil in your stomach now unleashed, his face totally drenched. Lan Wangji lifts his head out from your drenched folds; his chin is soaked with your cum.

Your chest heaved with the aftermath, breasts falling to the side from your subtly arched back. His chest swelled with a need for you but he wanted to wait for you; wanting to wait for you to want him. He wants you to want him out of love for him, not respect or responsibility as his wife.

Just your pure love, that's all he wants.

'I'm not through with you," were his final words just before his tongue started, once again, to toy with your clit, over except for you.

"Lan Zhan!" you cried in shock from how overwhelmingly the sensation was, a loud moan slipping past your lips, and your thighs clenched extremely tight around his head. This time, he wouldn't let you block his airways, his hands trying to pry open your thighs. And this time, he really would make you come with nothing but his tongue.

And so you did, a thousand times. Over and over your clit throbbed and ached. Your pussy ached and gaped for more, but he didn't give it to you. You'd begged for him to stop, but you knew he wouldn't. Lan Wangji knew you didn't want this, no matter your actions and words. Your cunt begged harder for more and more releases.

Lan Wangji continued to lap up from your folds, and you were definitely sure of a different sensation bubbling inside. "Zhan! Wait!" You whimper, but still your juices spill out from your cunt all over his face, the liquid obviously wetter than earlier.

Lan Wangji stood from between your legs, the realization that it was you who just squirted. A wave of tiredness swept your countenance and you sluggishly went down like a sack of potatoes, submitting to the warm clutches of slumber, and Lan Wangji sighed. Before Lan Wangji could allow himself to catch some sleep beside you, he had to tidy you up, which he did, cleaned you up quite nicely before he changed the sheets without waking you.

The week after that night in Jingshi was spent with a rededication to closeness with Lan Wangji. Every shared glance and every touch, however fleeting, was a promise of deepened feelings, an unsaid understanding that their bond was growing.

But tonight, the hours inched by, and Lan Wangji had not come back from his night hunt. Anxiety began gripping you in earnest as you strayed to and fro across the chamber, filled only by the doing of such a thing. The night was painted as if to be colder, darker, and one couldn't shake away the fear that maybe something happened to him.

At that very moment, you had been about to head out in the search of him yourself, when the door slid open soundlessly and Zewu-Jun stepped inside. His face was calm but serious.

"{Y/n}," he spoke softly, "Lan Wangji has returned. He is safe."

Relief washed over you, wordlessly brushed past Zewu-Jun amid the aching drumbeat of your heart. You entered the courtyard and found Lan Wangji standing there. A little tattered, with worn spots in his face, was the only flaw in what otherwise was him being all right. At the sight of him, relief came pouring through you, and with it trickling down all worry and fear.

"Lan Zhan!" You choked out, hurtling towards him.

He turned at the sound of your voice, and his eyes widened in almost surprised realization as you closed the distance from him. You didn't bother to say a word; instantly, you just threw your arms up and about him, squeezing him as hard as possible for reassurance that he was actually here.

"Zhan," you started, your voice trembling. "I can't… I can't hold it anymore. I-I've been so scared that I was going to lose you. But then I thought… I realized how much you meant to me."

He pulled his face back just a little so he could see down into your eyes. "{Y/n}…"

"I love you, Lan Zhan," you cried, breaking to pieces inside of yourself. "I love you so, so much. I can't bear the thought of being without you."

His face softened a fraction, eyes alit now with relief and joy in equal measure. "You love me?"

You nodded your head, feeling the weight lift off your chest. "Yes, I do. More than anything."

Lan Wangji's eyes sparkled, then he took you again, drawing you close. "I love you, {Y/n}. So much, for so long. To hear you say it… It means more than I could ever have asked," he stuttered.

He bent forward and took your lips in a kiss that spelled all the passion and love ever withheld. His arms tightened around you as well, through which you felt all his feelings, all that depth stored in every touch, every move. In that kiss was a mixture of relief, desire, and intoxicating love.

And then, without realizing it, the kiss deepened, and you only got yourself lost. The world around you just seemed to fade away—there was only you, Lan Wangji, and the beat of both of your hearts that now thumped against each other.

The spell was broken, and you turned to see Zewu-Jun standing a few paces away, the expression a mix of amusement and mild embarrassment.

"Sorry," he apologized, "but this is not your Jingshi. This is the Hanshi."

His smile warmed as you realized where you were, and a blush started to creep up your cheeks. Still holding your hand, Lan Wangji's thumb rubbed lightly over yours.

"Thank you, brother," Lan Wangji said, warmth flowing in his voice. "We will take our leave."

You never released his hand from yours until you both reached your own chambers, and you never felt like you were floating.

You both rapidly went back to the Jingshi, and the two of you never waited for a moment: his lips were on you. His face closed an inch towards yours in a gentle purpose, and all of a sudden you felt the soft brush of his lips against your own. Across the impassable physical distance, Lan Wangji's hand slides through the back of your neck, and you can feel the warmth of his touch seep into you as you flutter your eyes and close them halfway in satisfaction.

The hand cradling the back of your head, holding it in place, suddenly changes from cradling to directing your chin upward, and your stomach swoops in a sickening wash of vertigo. Lan Wangji's face falls, and his exhale is strong over your neck shell, the pulse of scalding heat almost tangible. A second no more, and it leaves an electric impression in its wake.

While his lips are at yours, his other hand cradles your neck from behind, providing an overall warmth that leaves a shiver running down your spine. His lips press again into yours. The rhythmic dance of our tongues surprises you, and you are lost in that tender exchange. You bury your head in the security of Lan Wangji's shoulder, pulling away from the overwhelming intensity. Your fingers tighten in the fabric of his shoulders for grounding in the now.

Lan Wangji gently manipulates your head to an upward tilt using the tips of his fingers. The moment your eyes lift, meet his, it's all clear, and the flutter in your stomach is palpable. He bends his head to the side of yours, his breath intoxicatingly filling the sensitive skin next to your neck. In another moment, the sensation of warmth coursed into every part of your body and you felt the electrifying connection that joined you both.

His fingers trace down your spine, and somehow it feels like little trails of tingling fire. Lan Wangji's lips find yours once more, in a tender way that deepens this connection between the two of us. The room fades as we become entrenched in this shared intimacy. Your fingers trace at the small of his back now, tracing gentle patterns, and you savour the closeness that lingers between you.

A broken kiss seals together our foreheads, our breaths intermingle in the silence as Lan Wangji meets your gaze, a gaze that he lets an upswell of feelings warm in the shade of water that is shadowing down his face. There is an unspoken understanding in the charged atmosphere, and as his thumb brushes against your cheek, there is a bond—if the words aside should be counted—forged between both.

"Lan Zhan," you exhale. "I want you. so badly."

You back from the desk, and Lan Wangji is matching the action never letting go as you back across the room and to his bed for support. The baseboard of his bed hits on the back of your legs, bending your knees, and you sit back at the edge of his bed.

You offer liquid grace from the table, your every motion definitive, and subtly Lan Wagnji takes your lead. His hands on your hips remain firm and reassuringly in place as you back up, step by purposeful step leading us towards the bed.

So you rise onto the bed, and, by this time, Lan Wagnji is there, too, rising from the Hanfu on a slide, expectation sits still in the space. I slip off your own with a malevolent eroticism. And so, showing without a word the fragile form beneath, I abandon you in your bra.

LAN WAGNJI'S HAND goes on a longing journey: the palm trails up your hips and waist, leaving the rest of the hand to hold your thigh flush against the side of his body—the room charged in the way that we negotiate the unspoken performance.

Wan Wagnji kisses you again, deeply and passionately.

I gasp under the sheer sensation being pounded into my wanting body, and then, in sheer anticipation, your back arches equal to his. The room seems to shrink, not large enough as he unclips your bra and drags the feverent material off your breasts.

His fingers lightly tease the skin above your collarbone. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks.

You take in a deep breath before pushing softly against his lips again, and breathlessly answering, "I'm sure." Hardly setting your words in a breathy sort of utterance to escape from tremors reacting to the touch already, "I will do anything for you," you add, sighing into your mouth as he brings his lips to mine again.

"I know you would," he murmurs, his hand on your thigh for just a second longer, dragging his two middle fingers down your covered slit, making you jolt and forcing a whimper out of your lips.

Your skirt was still gracing your body, along with your panties. There wasn't even a moment later when your panties weren't tugged by Lan Wagnji and left at an unknown spot. And then the work did commence a heartbeat later when the pad of his thumb teased your clit, back and forth, until he urged a snap of your legs, that brought the smirk leaving hikey in its wake, against the skin of your neck.

Two fingers slid in immediately, inside your heat, and began to curl at your gummy spot. Helplessly you moaned as your arms wound around Lan Wagnji's neck, as if this would help lift some off that pleasure.

"I've found it, have I?" Lan Wagnji asked, slowly moving his fingers in and out of your wet hole and each time he entered again, slowly curling his fingers into your gummy walls.

"You moan as ecstasy sears through each nerve of your body.

"Mmm, please what

"Need you," you whimper out, and he keeps that slow, aching pace. Long fingers curl in at the right time to hit that one spot, which makes you feel so, so good. But he knew that and went on doing this ridiculously slowly, making sure every one of your moans and whimpers was heard.

"More," you choked out, and you felt another smirk roll against his lips.

"You'll get more, I'll take my time with you - " he said to you hotly, breathing into your ear, looking at the task force trailing us, and still wanting to get more out of Light.

"Jus' want you to go f-faster," you say holding back the moan when he curls his fingers once more. "You're such a dirty girl," Lan Wagnji degrades and complies with your request and picks up the pace causing the knot in your stomach to grow.

"Please, please, please," you went on chanting over and over again, asking for an orgasm's release that has a deadly threat lying over your body, "Ngh, Zhan, please."

"Fine, girl, let go," he tells, and a moan of his name leaves your throat. Your back is bending into his chest, his arm slipping around your waist, and you close to him. Lan Wagnji lets himself drop to kiss you again, letting the warmth of the kiss float around when he pulls back. "I'm not done with you; you're going to take my dick all in your tight cunt. You got that?"

You nod dumbly, just wanting to feel the ache deep inside of you.

Lan Wagnji flipped you around, your breast squished tightly against the bed as you felt Lan Wagnji abs press flush against your back which was considerably bigger than your back. His hands gripped the backs of your hands, pressing them into the bed, making sure you wouldn't move out of his iron grip.

He quickly switched his grip, moving your arms to one of his hands and pinned the two with one hand above your head. "Relax," he cooed in your ear, realizing you were tense.

You felt a big and heavy tip prod at your entrance, you gasped at the thick length. "Lan Zhan," you whimper out. "P-please."

"That might hurt, so breathe," he added, but instead, you did the opposite as you felt your gummy walls invaded by his thick and warm cock.

And Lan Wangji? Dear God, he was trying so hard not to beat into that tight pussy. Your walls squeezed so hard against his dick that he could explode right there and then. "I said breathe. You're too tight." Lan Wangji moaned and the noise went straight to your cunt.

You exhaled the breath you were holding; the initial pain that was there throughout your body had been replaced by pleasure, which coursed now through the veins.

Lan Wangji's breath tickled at your ear, the hot air causing your body to tremble further against his. His cock lodged so deep in your gummy walls it made you mewl out in pleasure, but Lan Wangji wasn't moving; he was keeping himself snug inside your drenched walls, enjoying the pleasure.

Why, had Lan Wangji not mind-hacked himself, he would have combusted right then and there, inside you.

Hot and steamy kisses trail from your ear down to the dip between neck and shoulder, and before you know it, a breathless sigh is escaping you—lips parted just as Lan Wangji rolls his hips into yours with his shaft length, scraping all the sensitive spots of the hot insides of you to elicit a moan to roll off your tongue.

"L-Lan Zhan!" you moan out and your cry is responded to by a deep groan which causes you to tremble beneath him.

But Lan Wangji's legs kept your own spread apart, so that you couldn't move from his trapping embrace while his movements became faster, his cock slipping in and out of your needy hole. He is groaning and panting into your ear.

He was filling you up to the hilt, his tip prodding every hit against that spot which made you moan loudly with pleasure. Repetitive moans leave your mouth while he pounds and grinds into your heat. You had this instinctive urge to press into his length, but it was too heavy; his weight was a force against which you couldn't move. You were utterly hopeless as his thrusts became faster.

"H-ha, you're so big," you mewled out as your body trembled beneath him, and he moved one of his hands off mine to let his bicep wrap around your throat—not tightly but to lift your head from the futon and pillows beneath us. He drew you to him more closely and twisted your head, attaching our mouths in a sloppy, wet kiss. He pushed his tongue inside and groaned deeply at the intensity rising.

Lan Wangji drew back, but thrust harder, hitting your perfect spot. "I feel so good, don't I?" He rasped in your ear as your mouth continued to let out desperate moans.

Tears streamed down your heated cheeks in pleasure as you nodded within his movement-restricting hold. "Such a good girl," He mumbled in your ear chased with a deep groan, your insides clenched at his praise and his hips stuttered in their movements.

You spasmed around his length, your end washing over you, legs shaking as the weight of him pressed down even more than it was. He didn't slow his thrusts, making you whimper in overstimulation, but Lan Wangji helped it; his hips continued to rut into me, further aiding me to ride out your orgasm as he chased his own.

With a groan, his lips mashed against mine once again as his hips slammed into mine, hard, his cum spilling inside you causing you to moan into his kiss.

"'M love you so much," you whimper into the kiss.

"I love you, more," Lan Wangji groaned.

You were sure you were done until you felt his hips roll into yours again and you moaned. "I'm going have sex with you all night, not until you pass out."

The first touch of light that night was just streaming into the curtains, warming the room with deep and rich hues as you moved just a bit, sleeping. Everywhere, small moves each one bringing a reminder of how the previous evening felt and, oh so wonderfully good, sore muscles. Lan Wangji lay beside you in the bed, face at peace, and content, hand lying protectively, possessively over his.

He roused from the brief state of transcendence, returned to his spot, and as soon as he opened his eyes, they met yours. "Good morning," he began in a soft voice.

"Morning," you answered, almost inaudibly and with shyness apparent.

He brushed the hair from your face and whispered, "Are you okay?"

You nodded but wincing a little. "Just a slight sore."

The slightest flicker of concern passed in his dark eyes before he straightened up, extending his hand to help you do the same. "You should sit. I'll bring breakfast here."

As he motioned to leave, you reached out your hand to snag his, pulling him back in for a quick kiss. "Thanks, Lan Zhan."

He smiled, the sight of it filling you with warmth. "Anything for you."

For the next few days, you replayed moments of the night before. The soreness was still there, though met with happiness and satisfaction. And Lan Wangji, as always, was so careful that he practically made sure you had nothing to want for as you recuperated. Insistent on doing most things for you himself, of course, so you could relax and recover.

One fine morning, as you sipped your tea by the window that Lan Wangji had made for you, you just could not help but be full of admiration for how your relationship had transformed. Each and every gesture, each and every look of his that spoke of affection, drew your heart.

"How do you feel today?" he would ask as he passed by to sit with you.

"Better," you leaned your head to one side, resting your forehead against his. "Thank you for looking after me. That's quite a bother and an honor."

He kissed your forehead tenderly. "In my duty and it's always an honor to look after you."

The days which followed were full of soft moments and shared laughter. Lan Wangji was unconditionally supportive and affectionate toward you, which made your recovery much easier. He would find solace in walking the gardens, for he found peace with Lan Wangji. They could stay hours reading in each other's quiet company, basking in the tranquil atmosphere of the Cloud Recesses.

One afternoon, even when you'd just been doing light stretches to work out the lingering soreness, he'd come up to you with a slight smile.

"I have something for you."

You would look up inquisitively. "What is it?"

He holds out a small, intricately carved wooden box. Opening it, you find herbs and salves, all carefully prepared by him to aid in your recovery. "I thought this could help with the soreness.".

Tears of thankfulness welled up in your eyes at this.

"Thank you, Lan Zhan. You're always thinking of me."

He enveloped you in his arms, gently.

"Because you are my everything. Got to make sure you're in good condition when we fuck; can't have you passing out on me now."

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | mo dao zu shi m.list

#mdzs x reader #mdzs x fem! reader #lan wangji x reader #lan wangji x fem! reader #lan wangji smut #lan wangji x fem! reader smut #wangji x you #lan wangji x you

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gremlin-girly · 22 days ago

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Flufftober 16

@flufftober prompt: Only One Bed

Creative-prompts-for-writing prompt (which can be found here) : “We’re just friends, this doesn’t need to be weird.”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x gn!Reader

Tags/Warnings: FLUFF, innuendos, suggestive themes, not really anything romantic in this one I'm afraid, could be the start of something who knows, but Bucky and reader are friends :)

Summary: Bucky thinks double room means a room with two beds and after a long mission, both of you just want sleep.

Word Count: TBA (on mo leave sorry!)

A/N: I wrote this a while ago and forgot about it! I thought it was a perfect addition to the only one bed trope. If you haven’t checked out @creativepromptsforwriting I highly recommend their blog! I have a few more prompts to get through <3

Was I an idiot who also managed to post this accidentally two days early before editing it? Yes. Yes I was. I hate using my phone to edit. If you're seeing this for the second time - apologies - Love, Grem x

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“Were friends, this doesn’t need to be weird.”

You stood in your bloodied, tattered clothes on one side of the bed, acting the pinnacle of nonchalance whilst your heart hammered violently. On the other side stood Bucky in his equally dishevelled clothes, shoulders slumped and looking relatively worried about your predicament.

“Saying that makes it weird,” Bucky sighed. “This isn’t awkward at all.”

You threw up your hands exasperated. “You booked the hotel. You made it so weird.”

“I thought double meant two.” Bucky said defensively. “A double room would be two beds.”

“It would be a double bed, Bucky.” You cover your face with your hands and screamed in frustration. “OK, OK look. We can top and tail.”

Bucky looked at you quizzically, like a confused puppy. “Top and tail?”

“Wh- wai- …. you don’t know what topping and tailing is?” You gape at him.

A red flush crept up Bucky’s neck and onto his cheeks and he cleared his throat with a cought into his fist.

You didn’t notice and continued, confused. “You never topped and tailed with Steve?”

Bucky sputtered, bright red. “I – no… we never… we’re just friends.”

You balk at him, realisation dawning and your cheeks also going red.

“Oh my God! Get your mind out of the gutter.” You hiss at him. “Topping and tailing is when one person is at the top of the bed and another at the bottom.”

“Oh.” Bucky mumbles quietly and nods.

“Did you think-“

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Bucky said quickly. “I’m 106, give me a break.”

You wanted to laugh but though better of it, instead saying, “Are you topping or tailing then?”

Bucky raised his metal had out and grimaced. “Don’t say it like that. I’ll take the bottom of the bed.”

He picked up the pillow nearest to him, and moved it to the bottom of the bed, fluffing it before peeling back the covers. He pauses, looking sheepishly over to you and gesturing for you to turn around. You're sure you've invented a new shade of red, realising you're going to have to strip to your pyjamas as well. You turn away from him, mimicking his actions. Stripping away your must dusty day clothes has never felt so awkward. In fact, you don't ever recall a time you wanted to keep them on.

The bed creaks under Bucky's weight as he climbs into the bed.

"Hey," You chide teasingly. "No peeking."

"Shut up." Bucky huffs, scrunching his eyes shut. "My eyes are closed. I don't wanna look at your ugly ass."

You would usually quip back but tonight your mind is elsewhere as you crawl into your side of the bed, timidly settling beside Bucky before switching the light off.

Both of you lay with your arms firmly against your sides over the covers, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes.

“Comfy,” You said sarcastically.

“Shut up.” Bucky hisses from the darkness.

“Just don’t kick me with those gigantic hooves of yours.” You threw yourself onto your side, making the springs bounce rapidly. You turned away from him, wrapping the blanket around yourself.

“Hey, that's rude. I can’t help my feet are big.” Bucky faux-pouts.

Before you could stop yourself you quipped, “You know what they say about big feet.”

Silence.

“I hate you.” Bucky sighed from the other end of the bed, unable to keep the smile entering his voice.

“I’m so sorry,” You groaned into your pillow, wishing you were dead. “I couldn’t stop myself.”

“It’s all right. Let’s just… try and go to sleep.” Bucky yawned loudly and shifted under the covers.

“Okay, okay I get the hint.” You sighed, eyes fluttering closed. “Goodnight, Buck.”

“Night Y/N.”

Ten minutes passed in silence. Bucky counted the minutes and Emma tried counting sheep, trying to remember to breathe and focus on being as still as possible. Bucky seemed to have a similar thought process.

Bucky spoke first. “I can’t sleep.”

You sat up a little, twisting around to look at the void at the bottom of the bed. “Oh thank God, I thought it was just me.”

Bucky chuckled a little and propped himself up onto his elbows and strained his eyes to find your shadow in the darkness.

“Should we get up?” He suggested, unsure of what to do.

“And what? Eat a tin of beans? Even The TV doesn’t work here.” You kicked at the sheet in frustration.

“There’s gotta be something we can do.”

“A few things spring to mind,” You grumble and your hand flies to your mouth in horror. There’s a few beats of silence and you want to scream into your pillow. Again.

“…like?” You can hear the smirk in Bucky’s voice and reaching for the corner of her pillow, a deathly intent settling that you must wipe that smugness away from his mug. With expert stealth, you throw the pillow at Bucky's shadowy figure as you sweetly say;

“Pillow fight.”

“Hey!” Bucky laughs, removing the pillow from his face. He throws it back to you and feels triumphant hearing the “wump” of the pillow smacking your face. “Maybe something less violent.”

“Eye spy?” You joked and Bucky tickled the foot nearest him, making you kick and squeal at him.

“Suggest something better.” Bucky said, laughing and swatting your assaulting foot away.

“Like what, pervert?” You snap.

Bucky groaned. “Mind. Gutter. Out.”

You huff and stare at the cieling but now your mind has been cluttered with filth you can’t quite focus on anything else. You fold your arms across your chest above the sheets and huff. You think back to the events of the day, the mission, and whatever else it is you both do for work.

“Wanna play twenty questions?” You suggest, lips pursed thoughtfully.

“Sure. Why not.”

More silence.

“You go first.” You say quickly

“what? Why? It was your idea!” Bucky protests.

“Because I can’t think of a question.” You giggle, beginning to see the absurdity of your situation.

“Well, you’ve got another 19 to think of better ones!”

That does it. You start laughing harder and, like a chain reaction, it starts Bucky chuckling too. Softly at first but you’re both ricocheting off eachother and soon you’re both gasping for air and clutching your sides like kids at a sleepover.

“How do we always manage to end up like this?” You ask, taking deep shallow breaths to steady your breathing.

“There’s one,” Bucky grins into the darkness. You feel a shift in the covers and assume he’s shrugging. “I don’t know, doll. You always seem to manage to make me smile.”

“I like your smile,” you say sincerely. The shroud of darkness seemingly helping you to be more honest and straightforward than you’d usually be. You chuckle softly, the image of his smiling face etched into your memory. “Your eyes go all crinkly and you look damn adorable.”

“You just called one of the world’s greatest assassins adorable,” Bucky teases, his cheeks feeling a little warm.

“Your turn,” you say snootily, tactfully avoiding to answer him.

Bucky huffs trying to think. “Uh, what’s your favourite colour?”

“That’s such a shit question.” You chide, starting to giggle again.

“I’m trying.” Bucky chuckles.

"I like... well, I like a lot of colours." You've never really thought too hard about a favourite. "Maybe blue?"

"How do you not fave a favourite?" Bucky quizzes and you can see him in your mind's eye scowling at you. "Everyone has a favourite."

"That's two questions and I've never given it much thought." You shrug under the covers. "Why what's yours?"

"Easy. It's..." Bucky trails. You wait for a moment before calling to him.

"Buck?"

"I'm thinking." Comes his grumbling reply. You bite back a chuckle. "Maybe also blue."

"You're saying that because I said it." You argue.

"Am not!" Bucky says defensively.

"Are too."

You both continue arguing back and forth, eventually asking more questions that easily become more than twenty. You find out more about eachother; your families, your friends and relationships, favourite foods. You go in circles until you both begin to drift to sleep.

The following morning, you're a lot more spry and feeling less awkward about the whole bed situation. You notice that Bucky has been up and out for a while and decide to surprise him with his favourite breakfast item (pain au chocolat, as he'd told you last night) before he gets back; only to find he'd had the same idea whilst he was out. You both stand holding your brown bags of food laughing at one another, before swapping bags and sitting down to eat, conversation picking up from where you'd left it the night before with ease.

Somehow you think that you and Bucky's relationship has evolved from sharing a bed together; and for the better. Perhaps he should make more good mistakes often.

#Fluff #Bucky x reader #gn!reader #no beta we die like men #flufftober #flufftober 2024 #marvel mcu #gremlin-girly writes #gremlin girly #bucky barnes fluff #flufftober2024 #day 16 #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x y/n

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xxejinn · 1 year ago

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▶ 【 “ Luffy x Reader ( One Shot ! ) ” 】

「 Sweet Dream 」

disclaimer: one shot / short story

Imagine..

『 Monkey D. Luffy ✩ ! ! 』

“ ZORO, what do you think of a child? ”

Blinked twice as he stared at the captain, confused by what Luffy questioned him.

“ Did you bumped you're head or something? ”

As usual, Luffy would sit at his favourite place on the ship and keep on staring into the sunset in front of him.

“ I had this dream nowadays. A girl and.. me."

Zoro remains silence, absolutely don't have any clue on how to reply his nakama's question. "Luffy.. take a rest. It's been days you keep on the look out."

Luffy didn't speak.

"How many years now.. since she's been missing?"

" 5 years and a half. "

Luffy smiled , " Ahh.. I see. " His gazed still fixed on the view in front of him as his smile keeps on going wider.

" Luffy.. stop thinking about her anymore. "

" She will come back, Zoro. I know. Y/n.. will come back. "

No matter how many times Zoro pursued Luffy to forget about Y/n, he only shows his smile and often repeated the same words.

" Y/n will come back.. "

All the crew knows how deep is Luffy's love towards the woman that they thought were once their friend. The incident where took a lot for them to fight with disbelief that Y/n is a traitor keeps lingering around them as she left them.

Until now, they decided to let things go and of course trying their best to forget about her. Acting as if she was never one of them.

One thing for sure, Luffy always stay.

Count days, weeks to month and turns to years.

He never missed repeating the same words when the crew wanted him to moved on. Zoro once get into fight with Luffy about this but let it slide after seeing Luffy becomes a sad loner - lonely.

" He's just broken, Zoro. "

Sanji tap on his shoulder. " Dinner time . Let me take turn for now. "

Zoro sigh. He took last glance at Luffy's back before leave. Sanji takes turn and try to talk with Luffy.

" I cook your favorite foods, Luffy. Let's eat before it gets cold. "

" Go ahead. I'll join later. "

Sanji sigh, " Luffy.. you used to be the one who comes first when you're hungry. What happens to that now ? "

Luffy just silent. He let Sanji talks behind him but he only had one questions in his mind ,

" Y/n.. where are you ? "

✩　✩　✩　✩　✩　✩　✩　✩　✩

“Father, please. I want to see ( D/N ) just for a second.”

↺⇢ D/N ~ Daughter's Name

A man in black cloak gives the woman with crimson red hair who is looking at him with a fiery and determined gazed. She has a fair skin and slim figures.

Her gazed didn't even make him flinched.

“ How rude !! Where are your manners !? ”

“ I'm done with all the formalities. I want my daughter now ! "

The man scoffed. " You mean.. that pirate's daughter? You should feel grateful because the others could still accept her existence into our clan."

Y/n clenched her fist.

" She's your granddaughter. Whatever. I don't care about this clan's affair. (D/N) is my daughter ! She's not part of this fucking clan. Like it or not. I will be taking her from here. "

The man in front of her sighed.

He tapped on the wooden wall behind him as a secret passage just right behind him opens.

A young girl with black hair popped out and immediately run towards Y/n. She gasped in excitement and rushed over to hug her daughter.

" (D/N) .. you're alright. "

" Mama! "

Y/n do a check-up on her and relief to find she's in one piece and no trace of wound found anywhere.

"Leave at dawn. The ceremony starts tomorrow morning. We can't risk any circumstances during your runaway so.. don't messed up, Y/n."

Y/n stared at her father, the Chief of their clan. She suddenly went clueless, she thought her father would be somewhat- a bad guy trying to stop her from being together with her daughter.

"Father.. I-"

" I love you , Grandpa !! "

A slight tinted pink flushed through the Chief's cheeks after (D/N) released their hug.

Y/n smiled. The chief clear his throat and pat his granddaughter's head. " Be good. Don't troubles your Mama more. Never let your guard down, okay princess?"

Their attraction somehow made Y/n's heart flutters.

"Then.. you should prepared now. Hideki will guide both of you."

Before they leave, the chief called.

"Send my regards to him when you met him."

Y/n smiled, " I will, Father. Then.. until later."

"Be careful, my princesses."

please do comment, share and likes !

no copyrights ❏

english is not my first language.

luffy x reader ! + daughter !

@httpjiikook

#luffy x reader #luffy imagine #oneshot #one piece luffy #fanfic #luffy x y/n #luffy #monkey d. luffy

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sommerflue-22 · 1 year ago

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Cherish You Forever | Kyojuro Rengoku x f!Reader

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Content Warning: Mention of night terrors, Kyojuro survives but he retired yay, Kyojuro being a loving husband T^T

Word Count: 1.3k

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You awoke upon hearing a loud crash coming from outside your room and sat up immediately. The lamp was turned off and it was still dark outside. The sound of crickets signaled that it was still the middle of the night—or, at the very least, early morning before the sun rose.

You touched the space next to you to wake up your husband, fearing that it was a burglar. Your husband, however, was not in your shared futon. You instantly realized what had occurred: your husband was awake and probably made that sound.

You left your warm futon and made your way out to look for your husband, worried. You tried hard not to make any noise with your steps, worried of startling your husband. It was not difficult to find him because the kitchen door was wide open.

When you peeked inside, you saw your husband kneeling and scooping something up from the floor. His cane was resting against the counter.

"Kyojuro-sama?" You called out his name softly as you turned on the light switch.

Kyojuro glared over his shoulder, a dark circle beneath his eye apparent. He stopped picking up the shattered porcelain cup he had dropped on the floor.

You snatched a rag from the kitchen counter and crouched next to him, helping him in picking up the fragments of the cup.

"Another night terror, dear?" You asked calmly as you wrapped the pieces and tossed them into the trash bin. You took his hands in yours and lifted him up, gave him his walking stick. Kyojuro kept his gaze fixed on the ground and did not respond to the question you asked. "Why don't you wait in the dining room, hm? I'll make you a cup of tea, yeah?"

You let go of his hands and went to make the tea, filling one of the kettles and boiling it on the the stove. A strong arm wrapped around your shoulder as you switched on the the stove. Kyojuro sighed and leaned his chin against on top of your head.

"I'm sorry," he croaked out, "It was your favorite cup, wasn't it?"

"Well, yeah but they still sell it in town. It doesn't matter, dear." You turned around, staring up at your beautiful husband.

Kyojuro kept his eye on you while his hand placed yours on his left cheek, near his eyepatch. Your lips tugged up in a small smile.

When you first met Kyojuro, you were curious about what had happened to his left eye. However, you did not dare to ask him about it. You had only recently met. You didn't want to be impolite, especially with your parents, his father, and Senjuro in the room. After all, you'd be marrying the man in a year. You had plenty of opportunity to get to know him.

Kyojuro only told you about his left eye incident on your first night as newlyweds. He let you open his yukata and his eyepatch. You uncovered what was beneath the patch after a year together. Deep scars sewn over his blind eye, as well as a massive scar on his abdomen. Kyojuro kept his gaze fixed on you as you stroked your gentle finger over his battle scars.

Then he told you about what happened while he was a Hashira. He was almost killed by an 'Upper Rank Demon,' but he was lucky since dawn was approaching and the demon fled. He had to go through numerous treatments to heal his wounds. Kyojuro's recovery was challenging, especially when he began having night terrors regarding his near-death experience. The ease with which the demon's hand pushed into his abdomen, the pain he felt when he was carried back in a stretcher, the moment he saw his late mother and realized he was about to join her in the afterlife. Kyojuro, who was half-blind and forced to walk with a walking stick, had no choice but to retire from the corps. That's when his father came up with the proposal of matching him with you, a daughter of an old acquaintance.

Nothing had ever prepared Kyojuro for the moment you told him he was strong and beautiful despite his wounds. He still got flustered now, even with the fact that you've been married for two years.

You caressed his cheek and drew him in closer, kissing the tip of his nose softly. Kyojuro's brow furrowed, and his nose pricked. You laughed and lightly slapped his chest.

"Go wait in the dining room, dear. I'll bring you tea."

"Yes, Ma'am."

The water was quickly brought to a boil. You put some tea leaves in a teapot and filled it with hot water. You carried the teapot and two cups to your dining room on a tray.

Kyojuro sat on the tatami floor, his legs hidden beneath the warm kotatsu table. He appeared to be feeling better, with a faint smile on his lips as he watched you sit down next to him and place the tray on the table.

"So," you started, "how are you feeling?"

"Much better, now you're here." Kyojuro answered. He got back to his usual cheerful tone, though not as loud. Understandable, since the two of you just woke up in the middle of the night.

You sighed and hugged his torso from the side. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Of course I didn't want to disturb you." Kyojuro kissed the top of your head. "Besides, this is something I've grown accustomed to."

"I know, but I still want to be there for you, I want to help you."

"(Y/N), dear, you're already helping me. I lost my career, I had no idea where to go, what to do. You gave me a reason to keep living."

You looked up to your husband, waiting if he wanted to continue talking.

"You were supportive when I said I wanted to study history, hoping that I can be a teacher someday. You always take care of me when I'm sick, or helping me when I'm struggling to do something... even if I say I can do it on my own. You befriend my ex colleagues. Tengen and his wives, Sanemi and Giyuu, even young Kamado. You were so patient whenever I had my night terrors, holding me in your arms until I calmed down. You do it every time, for two years until it got better lately. You've done a lot of things to help me already, (Y/N)."

You hummed, not really knowing how to respond to Kyojuro.

"I used to feel pathetic, defeated, useless. All because of these," Kyojuro waved his hand, motioning to his body, "But now I see it as a blessing. Because without these injuries, I wouldn't have marry you, the best partner I could ever asked for."

"Kyojuro... sama..."

"I love you, (Y/N)... and I'm going to cherish you forever, even in the afterlife, even in our next life." Kyojuro lifted up your chin and pressed a chaste kiss on your lips.

You slowly took off Kyojuro's eyepatch and kissed his left eye, before you kissed his nose again. He giggled and pecked your forehead.

"I don't know where you learn to speak like that." You covered your face out of embarrassment.

"Ah... Tengen, perhaps?"

"Perhaps," you patted his cheek and turned to the teapot. "Come on, let's drink our tea and get back to bed."

"I'm not sleepy yet, though."

"We can talk until we fall asleep."

Kyojuro grinned from ear to ear, "I would love that."

You poured the tea into each of your cups and the two of you drank in silence. It was comfortable, it felt right.

"Oh, by the way..."

Kyojuro turned to you and raised an eyebrow.

"I love you too, Kyojuro-sama. Always will."

────────────────────────────────────────── I wrote this at one am bcs i'm under the weather and i miss Kyojuro T^T

Thank you for reading! Find me on Ao3 and Twitter

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer fanfic #kny fanfic #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x reader #reader insert

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neon-junkie · 2 years ago

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In the Heat of the Moment - Chpt.6

Summary: “Less than ten percent of domesticated species go into heats,” accord to Tech and his research, and (un)fortunately, you’re one of that ten percent. What else are you meant to do? Trapped during a heat cycle with five men - five willing men who are happy to help relieve you, but not all have the confidence to say so.

Relationship: The Bad Batch x fem!Reader (she/her)

Tags: Heats, Mating, Sex pollen, Friends with benefits, Friends to lovers, Slow burn, Sex, Jealousy, Pining, Cuddling, Huddling for warmth, Tags to be added.

Word count: 2.8k

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 7]

Chapter 6 - Hot ‘n’ Cold

Two suns.

Why does Tatooine need two suns?

It's not like you can do repairs during the night, either, as the temperature plummets so deep that your goosebumps have goosebumps. Plus, it's dark... Duh!

So, all you and the others can do is work away during the blazing heat. Bunks have been stripped, the sheets being used as make-shift shade whilst you work, only to be pulled down and wrapped up in when the temperature drops every night. Your heat cycle has taken pity on you, as it's relaxed these last few days. Bless Echo for giving you a good run for your money, as he's kept you fully stocked.

Well, there have been odd moments where you can feel your hormones playing up, only for the sweltering blaze from the suns to knock them down a peg.

Speaking of the heat, it's provided you with a new threat - shirtless men.

It's understandable that the Batch want to work on repairs in as minimal clothing as possible, seeing as their armour isn't designed to keep the heat out - not when it's painted black, a colour that attracts heat. To combat their little problem, they've decided to work shirtless, with their lower half sporting sweatpants or sleep shorts.

You've been working in the bare minimum, too. And as curious as your eyes are, the Batch are just as guilty. Some of them haven't even bothered looking away when you've caught them eyeing you up, such as when Echo merely shrugged and replied, "what? These glances keep me motivated."

Charming.

There is, surprisingly, no signal out in the Dune Sea. Whilst you and Tech remain on the Marauder to focus on repairs, the others have taken on the task of trekking to Mos Espa, desperate for supplies, and hopefully, a call for help. That is, if the Republic answers - their lines are almost always busy.

The Batch set out at the crack of dawn, and now that the suns are shining overhead, you assume that they must be there by now. The midday heat is unbearable, and wanting to avoid the blaze, you enter the Marauder. It's durasteel structure traps some heat, but thankfully, the air-conditioning is up and running, and despite its funny smell, you enjoy the decline in temperature.

Not wanting to lie on the leather seats, only to peel yourself off them later, you decide to settle on the floor. A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you lie back against the wall, followed up by you taking a well-needed drink from your water bottle.

"Having another break, are we?" Tech's voice chimes out as he also enters the cockpit. His brows are furrowed as he gazes over your form, and you know that he's silently cursing himself for being the mechanic of the Batch, meaning he has the most responsibility when it comes to repairs. Not everybody can lounge around like you, (apparently.)

You don't fancy putting up with Tech's petty remarks, and as luck would have it, you have a reasonable explanation for your 'break.' "Yeah, I just need a moment... something is playing up," you gesture to your lower abdomen, which causes Tech's brows to soften out, and his lips to tilt into a slant.

"Ah, I understand," he says with a nod, and decides to sit beside you, also sipping on his own bottle of water.

Silence swarms the air, however, it's not unsettling. Whilst your and Tech's relationship has become tense, there is still respect. You both know this is merely a storm that will pass, but constant wedges have formed, making it unable to rest.

Until now.

Tech, whilst moving his goggles up to rest on his forehead, comments, "whilst I would offer you assistance, I am not in a suitable state to do so." He gestures to his grimy and sweaty form, and to be fair, your state is no better. "My mind is also far too occupied with repairs, and I am sure you would not enjoy intercourse with me, seeing as my hygiene has become poor. If our resources were not limited, I would happily use the refresher, but we-"

"-It's okay, Tech," you cut his words short with a soft wave of your hand. "I'm too sweaty to fuck, too."

Tech lets out a chuckle. "Well, that is one way of putting it."

Your eyes meet for a moment, and for the first time in days, neither of you feel tense. Tech has always been such a sweetheart to you, even if he was a little awkward and unsure of you, at first. The Batch weren't used to having a Jedi around - they've never had a General before - so can you blame him for having his guard up?

Although Tech doesn't mean his next words with malice, they come out that way, regardless. "Perhaps Echo could assist you when he returns?"

"Oh," you murmur, your eyes locking onto Tech's. Within an instant, he realises his mistake, and rubs the back of his neck in worry.

"That was not a dig," he winces. "I... ahem, overheard you two the other night."

Either the heat from outside is seeping in to the cockpit, or you're burning up from embarrassment. A knot forms in your stomach, travelling up your body, and soon settling in your throat. You attempt to clear it, once, twice, and fail regardless. All you can do is own up to your shenanigans, despite them being consensual all around. "That loud, huh?" you joke.

Tech's lips purse in annoyance, "it was tolerable."

You grimace, and Tech's silent expression reads, 'keep it down next time, would you?'

"...I'm sorry," you sigh, and to your surprise, Tech swats your apology away with a wave of his hand.

"Like I stated before, I am happy with you finding relief in multiple partners," Tech says with a shrug, and whilst you're glad he's not annoyed over that, you mentally note to tone the noise down in the future. Tech continues speaking, although his words have fallen quiet, "and maybe when this storm has passed, we might be able to resume where we left off?"

Your ears perk up at the suggestion - not just because you'll be receiving relief from your body's natural cycle, but because Tech is still interested in you. Dare you think about it, but you're also questioning your chances of having both Tech and Echo at the same time, although you really shouldn't get ahead of yourself!

Resting your cheek on your palm, you sweetly coo, "awh! You miss me?" with a flirty bat of your lashes.

Tech rolls his eyes in amusement, although he can't hide the upwards turn to his lips. "I would be lying if I said that I haven't had you on my mind."

"Awhh!!" you smile, and give Tech a playful nudge. "I knew you couldn't stay mad at me!"

Tech rolls his eyes once more, a common trait of his. He tenderly places his bare hand on your forearm, and whilst keeping eye contact, he speaks. "Mesh'la, I could never stay mad at you. I was in the wrong for becoming overbearing and somewhat possessive, but I now understand that it is entirely natural, especially in your state, for your hormones to somewhat take over your emotions."

"No, no," you say with a wave of your hand. "I was in the wrong for snapping at you. You were only trying to make sure that I was eating, and taking care of myself, and I let my heat get the better of me."

Tech blinks in bewilderment before letting out a laugh, "perhaps we could agree that we were both in the wrong?"

"Perhaps," you repeat his words, imitating his accent. Tech sends you a look before moving his hand from your forearm, his palm meeting the back of your hand. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, and to your surprise, Tech leans over to place a kiss on your forehead, unfazed by your light layer of sweat.

"I'm going to return to the repairs," Tech informs you. He stands, letting out a soft grumble as he does so, his joints cracking from exhaustion. "Join me when you're ready, and please, call out for me if you require anything."

With that, Tech is exiting the cockpit after sending you a soft smile. He disappears from your line of sight, moving down to the hull's exterior to continue his work. The back of your head meets the wall, and you let out a deep sigh, feeling relieved that you two have finally talked things out.

It was all a misunderstanding. Tech cares, and that's not something that you're used to. You shouldn't have snapped, and Tech shouldn't have pushed. Whatever. It's settled now.

You give yourself a few minutes alone before forcing yourself up to your feet, and decide to join Tech outside, eager to help him out as your way of saying thank you.

The depths of space are silent, and to your surprise, the depths of the Dune Sea are just as silent. All you can hear is the distant snoring of your squad, bound to their own rooms. It's almost unsettling, to not have the hum of the Marauder in the distance, a soft buzz as she drifts in space.

You roll onto your back, and with that, a frustrated sigh escapes your lips. You can't sleep, and surprisingly, your heat is not to blame. The desert is cold at night, so cold that it's seeped into the Marauder, and wandered into your room. No amount of blankets seem to be warming you up; you need a distraction, and hopefully, a bit of movement will warm your body up in no time.

Exiting your bunk, you pull the blankets up and over your form, and whilst grasping them tightly across your chest, you begin to make your way out of your room, ready to bug whoever is on the night shift.

"Can't sleep, huh?" Wrecker questions as he notices you in the corner of his eye. He spins the co-pilot chair around, and after setting his holopad down on the dashboard, he meets your eyes.

"Yeah," you say with a soft laugh. You nestle down in the pilots chair, tucking the blanket over your entire form as you bring your knees up to your chest. Somehow, the cockpit is even colder than your room, and you question how Wrecker can sit here in only his civvies, unfazed by the cold. "It's too cold, you know?"

"Yeah, hah!" Wrecker chuckles. "Too cold during the night, but too hot during the day..."

"Exactly," you agree with a frustrated sigh.

As you rest your head back against the chair, silence settles peacefully around both of you. Wrecker is one of those few people who you can sit in a comfortable silence with, only right now, Wrecker isn't comfortable - he's concerned, and you can sense why.

"Are you... uh..." Wrecker murmurs, and brings a palm up to meet the back of his neck. "Are you alright?" he settles on the question, short and simple, and open for any and every answer.

You trail your eyes to meet his, and there is nothing but tenderness within them. "For once, I'm just cold," you say with a shrug, causing Wrecker's expression to soften out.

"Oh," he hums. Wrecker twiddles his fingertips together as he speaks up again, "I've pieced together what is going on from your... uh, stuff. And with a bit of help from Crosshair, but if you..." his words fall flat, and Wrecker begins to stutter. "...I... uh... I guess I'm trying to say that I'm here for you? Kriff, I don't know what to say, really."

"I understand," you reply with a sweet smile. "Thank you, Wrecker. I think the worst of it has passed, but I still have my moments, you know?"

"Yeah," Wrecker says with a nod. "Crosshair went into... uh, a lot of detail when he explained it to me. Maybe too much detail, hah!"

You roll your eyes, "do I dare ask what he said?" knowing that Crosshair was bound to go down the raunchy side of things, and in some cases, exaggerate it for fun.

"It's probably best that you don't," Wrecker responds with a chuckle. The smile on his lips shifts to concern, and Wrecker raises his brows as he points out the obvious. "Kriff, you're shivering!"

You send him a numbing smile, "yeah, I'm really cold," you say with a nervous laugh.

Wrecker grumbles as he rubs the back of his neck. "Do you want to...?" he points to his lap, and makes a grabbing motion with his hands. "Maybe a cuddle will warm you up?" he suggests.

This isn't the first time that you've cuddled with Wrecker. His love language is physical touch, both in romantic and platonic relationships. Wrecker also wears his heart on his sleeve, and the comfort and security of his squad comes before his needs. Always.

"Please," is all you mutter before rising to your feet, and taking a step over to where Wrecker is sitting. Wrecker is both gentle and forward as he bundles you up in his lap, large arms wrapping around your form, practically holding you like a baby. You feel like one, too, given the size difference.

Wrecker shifts in his seat, and after checking over your body to ensure that you're fully covered with your blankets, he relaxes back against the chair. "You know, you can always borrow my hoodie," he says with a light shrug, putting another offer on the table.

"I think I'll be alright like this," you smile, already beginning to feel the warmth growing in your chest, shifting across your body. "Besides, your hoodie would probably go past my knees!"

Wrecker lets out a laugh as he holds you tighter, envisioning you wearing his hoodie. You curl up tighter against his chest, and finally, weight begins to form beneath your eyes. Body warmth is making you tired, and you know that falling asleep in Wrecker's arms is bound to happen.

Until you drift off, you decide to keep the conversation going, knowing that Wrecker won't feel insulted when you do doze off on him. Literally.

"What were you watching?" you nod your head in the direction of his datapad, sitting forgotten on the Marauder's dashboard.

"Oh, well..." Wrecker begins as he picks his datapad up, unlocking it with a swish of his finger. "We haven't got service out here, so I was going through my photos and videos," Wrecker explains, pulling up the app. The last video that he was watching comes on the screen, and automatically begins to play.

It's old, before you were stationed with them. The Batch is in their barracks back on Kamino, and each of them is dotted around the room. Most are stationed at the table, shiny clone armour scattered everywhere, minus Crosshair, who is keeping to his bunk.

"We had just graduated," Wrecker states as the video continues to play. Wrecker is the one filming, that much is obvious given how much the camera shakes, an excited Trooper running around to his squad to film them decorating their first set of armour. "We hadn't even gone on a mission yet, but we wanted to make sure that our armour was ours, you know?"

The audio is quiet, but you can make out their voices. "Let's see yours, Sarge!" Wrecker says as he shoves the camera in Hunter's face. He's so young, baby faced, and tattoo-less. His hair is barely past his ears, and to nobody's surprise, Hunter has already begun wearing a red bandana.

Hunter holds up his armour like a proud child showing off their drawing. The standard white armour has a few red details on it, but the main thing that stands out is the black '99' across the left side of his chest.

"Your symbol," you murmur, taking in how proud your boys looked back when they were shiny and new.

"Yeah," Wrecker says with a grin. "We wanted to make sure that everybody knew how defective we are, so we all decided to put '99' on our chests," he grins, and with that, the video comes to an end.

A light sigh escapes you, and as you shut your eyes, you press your head deeper against Wrecker's chest. "You're my defective boys," you coo, knowing that the word has become a symbol of power to them.

"Yeah, we are!" Wrecker says with a cheer - a light cheer, as to not startle your sleepy state.

Your eyes flutter open again, with a smile on your lips. "Show me more videos?" you question, and Wrecker is eager to take you up on that offer.

There are hours, days, possibly weeks of footage on this datapad that Wrecker is more than happy to show you. He lets you pick something out at random, and with every video that plays, Wrecker has several stories behind it.

You're content like this - cooped up in Wrecker's arms whilst he goes on about tales from the Batch's early days - so content that you might drift off to sleep.

Probably.

#in the heat of the moment #tbbwriting #the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #f!reader #smut #fluff #female reader #reader insert #tbb #the bad batch fanfic #the bad batch x female reader #tbb x f!reader #fem reader #bad batch

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emkald-fic · 8 months ago

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Bright Star | One Shot | Aegon II Targaryen x OC

Summary: The king dies and their dream begins. Rating: Mature edging on Explicit (hehee) Warnings: 18+, Smut, Exhibitionism Word Count: 1384

Notes: A fluffy-ish one shot of Aegon and Abrogail escaping successfully from King's Landing the night the king dies. Not directly related to my other works, but features my original character, Abrogail Strong.

thank you to my beloved @acrossthesestars for the amazing banner and helping with fleshing out some of the spice!

I do not have a taglist. Please follow @emkald-fic and turn on post notifications.

There are different ways the dream goes.

There's one where Abrogail is five and ten, walking into the sept with a silver dress embroidered in golden dragons, where the Queen watches in approval as their hands are wound with ribbon. The one where Prince Aegon smiles brighter than the sun as he wraps his cloak around her, cups her face in his hands and kisses her breath away. They long to run from the storm, as it tears at the towers of the Red Keep with flame and water. They are not the same, in the end, with too much loss and too much suffering, where the only peace is found in the quiet of their kisses and the warmth of their bed. With children who they vow will be born into everlasting peace.

The last of the dragons.

There's another one, where the four of them are miserable and anxious.She exchanges hushed vows with the second son, her eyes darting towards his. There is no cheering or fanfare - just a plan concocted by a dreamer and clever children to keep their clutch together as the storm draws closer. It is the first son she lays with on her wedding night to seal the deal, whispering their own vows amidst soft sighs and cries of need. Things don't turn out so bad in this dream, but it still isn't perfect.

Pentos is not a dream.

It is vision made flesh with sweat and tears and frantic nerves. They are both dead and alive; they died the night the king did, they were born flying into the sunrise. They were born come the dawn on the sands of Essos amidst a victorious dragon shriek and relieved laughter. Where exhaustion and adrenaline gave way to something sacred in the surf that ‘yes, yes we made it we've made it, is breá liom tú mo réalta geal…’

‘I love you, my bright star.’

This is the one where they are surrounded by strangers, where only a handful know their truth. This is the one where Abrogail is wrapped in shimmering gold and white, with star flowers in her copper curls and a smile so bright as to rival the sun. This is the one where Aegon is dark haired and more relaxed, calmer than he'd ever been in his whole life, where he nearly takes her at the feet of the magistrate, so explosive is his joy.

Their joy.

They are a powerful pair: his Lady Hypatia doubles their holdings within a year, courting friendly partnerships and trade routes. A shrewd businesswoman who is patron to those who spin song and secrets, who helps the poor, who first and foremost, protects what is hers.

Lord Argos blossoms like a desert flower without the noose of green and black around his throat. Like a dragon free from the pit, he grows without constraint. Jovial and decadent, gluttonous still, the clever boy emerges into a calculating man; perhaps who he was always meant to be had he only been allowed.

She is shy to admit how much she adores him spoiling her. How he wraps her in moth-wing dresses that skim her skin and leave nothing to the imagination. He orders them by the dozens, in every color imaginable, and watches her with eyes black with lust and desire as she wanders around their home. They are only for his eyes, and when the furrows deepen between her brows, he pulls her into him. She shivers and whines in his arms as he tilts her head back to deny her kisses, but the fabric always rips as he bunches it up to skim his fingers beneath.

"These are just for me," he murmurs, keeping his mouth just out of reach, his smirk growing at her trembling pout as his fingers find the slick along her thighs. "Would hate to kill another merchant for thinking he could have what's mine." Before, when the furthest he could claim her was gazes across a feast table, the lewd way he’d lick honey from figs and she’d pop ripe, wet berries in her mouth, the rumors and court gossip heating his blood as hot as what would pool beneath someone who dared touch her. Here, there's a way for his fire to burn without bringing everything down around them.

She is his. She's his little doll; he dresses her up and spins her around and there is no doubt in all of Pentos, and surely as far as Lys or even Volantis, that while the wine merchant cares for decadence and revelry, it is his little wife that he cares for most of all. There is no doubt Lady Hypatia only has eyes for him.

It is by his blessing they can see her, but never, ever touch.

The orgies Lord Argos throws every few moon turns are the exclusive invites. It isn't just wine and food and decadence. It's deal making, and who is in the inner circle. His lack of desire to become the next Prince of Pentos is all that keeps the target off Aegon's Argos' back.

They are the envy of all who gaze upon them - too beautiful by far, with cherubic cheeks and large eyes. Pouty smiles and sweet laughter. In the haze of patchouli and vanilla and spice, amid the dripping candle glow, bodies writhe amidst laughter and song.

It is here, on a pillowed dais, he spreads his little wife down for all to see. Here he pulls the gossamer cloth from her body and shows how good she looks when she's crying for him. How beautiful she is when tears coat her cheeks from denial, from her need as she begs her husband to fill her with his cock, until her thighs are coated with her slick and his spend. It is here he gives in, unable to deny her even a moment longer, licking a stripe between her pert breasts, growling up against her throat with gnashing teeth. And it is here that he wedges a knee between her thighs, spreading them open to accommodate him. And finally, it is where he splits her apart around him, swallowing the twisting cry of his name that falls from her mouth.

He looks like a god above her, the candle glow turning his skin as golden as the dragon torque fastened around her neck. Aegon’s black eyed stare as he stakes his claim, the smirk, the groans from him as he finally sinks into her, sends her writhing beneath him, needy and begging. It is only his need to exhibit himself, to see the deviance around him that spurs him to take her on this altar, otherwise no one would witness such rapture, something so exquisite and sacred. This is what he tells himself as he fucks her, as he drives himself forward and buries himself within her, her back arching, her face open to all who would look upon them. He tells himself again as she clenches around his length, as her nails rake down his back, as she sheds the skin she wore in another place, another time.

It's better to paint her with his seed than fuck her in a still warm pool of blood. Less complicated.

The first time he guides her down upon the dais, his mouth rubs softly against her, soothing her nervous fingers that clutch into his tunic. “Look at me, only me... keep your eyes on me.” She'll forever get lost in his eyes - her deepest blue and his lilac pink melting together like the sunset sky. Her delicate hands grab at him frantically. As eager as he is to stake his claim, she is just as desperate. Nails drag harshly over his shoulders and arms, the angry red lines dotted with blood. And then her mouth finds the juncture of his shoulder and she bites down - the lion in her blood urging her to claim her mate with teeth and growls.

There is more in this dream that's become real. A little boy with his father's eyes and his mother's hair and a name with no mantle of conqueror or expectation. There is laughter, and song, and it could never last forever. But when the storm finally comes, this time?

This time they're ready for it.

#house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd fic #hotd oc #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x oc #aegon x oc #aegon ii fic #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #oc: abrogail strong #hotd smut #aegon girlies #hotd aegon ii targaryen #aegon x abby

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dumbbitchenergy17 · 1 year ago

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Clan of Three (BOBF) - Chapter 4

Chapter Four: In the Name of Honor

Plot: A Mandalorian, an infant with a history of the jedi, and a teenager with similar powers with a slowly discovering lineage. With the child off with the Jedi, the close-knit pair continues their travels through the galaxy.

Word Count: 8.9K

Pairing: Father Figure!Din Djarin x Platonic!Teen!Reader

Warnings: fighting/violence, injuries, angst, slight ptsd, some wholesome moments, father-daughter moments

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Returning quickly back to Mos Espa hearing an attack happened on the Sanctuary, reaching the exploded building the sandstone blacken by the explosion. Entering the building you see Boba, Fennec, and the two Mods; Drash and Skad.

“That was fast. Were you able to hire any foot soldiers?” Fennec asks and Din says, “I think so…Cobb Vanth is raising a garrison for us.”

“What price did you negotiate?” Fennec questions waiting for the price but he shakes his head, “Free.”

“Free?” Din nods, “He’s been holding off the spice trade single-handedly. I told him we could shut it down.”

“That’s not free. That’s most of Jabba the Hutt’s business.” Fennec protests with Cobb’s demand.

“That’s what the town wants,” Din replies and Fennec goes to retort but Boba cuts her off.

“I agree to their terms.” Fennec comes over to her boss trying to reason with him, “There’s a lot of credits to be made from that orange powder.”

“In the long run, it is better for us as well. Mos Espa can become a prosperous city under our protection. Spice is killing our people. Let Marshal Vanth and the people of Mos Pelgo…” Boba says.

“Freetown is its name now.” You pipe in and Boba nods, “Let the people of Freetown know they have my word.”

“You can tell Cobb Vanth himself when he arrives here with the reinforcements.” Din says and Boba is only worried he will not, “You are confident he will come?”

“I am.” He vouches and the bounty hunter nods, “Well if he does not, we are doomed. Our skill is no match for the Syndicate numbers. We must buy time until they arrive. We’ll lockdown at the palace.”

“It’s a bad idea.” Skad says and Fennec looks over at the bionic man, “Is that so?”

“It is.” He says and the assassin leans against a wall looking at the man, “And where do you propose we wait for reinforcements?”

“Here.” He says gesturing to the ruins you were in. “Here? In these ruins? Nonsense. The palace offers greater protection.” Boba says shaking his head and Drash steps forward.

“If you want to abandon Mos Espa and hide in your fortress, go ahead. We’re staying. The people who live here need our protection.” She says that the two young adults' decisions are final. You had to respect it, this was their home and they were fighting for it. Fett is silent looking at them before he nods, “We’ll stay.”

You set up camp in the ruins of the Sanctuary and when dawn arrived the plan was put into action with only Fennec, Boba, Din, yourself, and the majordomo that was apparently their hostage/informant.

“As we wait for the reinforcements to arrive with Cobb Vanth from Freetown, our forces are quietly patrolling the streets of the old city. The Pyke Syndicate has not yet arrived in numbers, but the minute they do, we will see them before they see us. The truce you negotiated with the other families of Mos Espa will ensure that they will remain neutral and allow us to gain the upper hand by surprising the arriving soldiers,” Fennec explains the plan as you sit on a piece of rubble listening in, “The Gamorrean guards are posted in the Klatooinian territory at the starport and will alert us if any of the Pyke Syndicate forces arrive. Krrsantan is in Trandoshan territory, keeping tabs on the streets of the municipality in front of City Hall. Drash and Skad are with the other Mods keeping an eye on the Worker’s District and the Aqualish Quarter. As you can see, all our flanks are covered. Nobody is sneaking up on us. When the people of Freetown arrive, we will have the forces required to pivot our strength to whatever region the Pykes choose to attack from.”

“For now?” You ask resting your hands on your crossed legs and Fennec looks over at you, “We wait.”

“Lord Fett?” Boba’s 8D8 droid enters the sanctuary, “There is someone here to see you.” You all stand up surprised someone had arrived at your positions.

“I thought you said nobody could sneak up on us.” Boba says to Fennec as you all draw your weapons and Din puts you behind him as the three of you hid outside behind the pillars while Boba steps out into the open and you hear him speak, “I thought I smelled something. If you’re looking for a job, you’re late.”

“I’ve already got a job. I’m here to negotiate on behalf of the Pyke Syndicate.” A gravelly but distinctive voice calls out and Boba scoffs, “I don’t negotiate with gutless murderers.”

“If that’s not the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy.” The man retorts for the hypocrisy from Boba. “Clear out. And tell your bosses we know they’re outnumbered.” Boba warns him and you hear the man chuckle and you tighten your grip on your blaster.

“I wouldn’t be counting on the people of Freetown to be coming anytime soon. I paid Marshal Vanth a visit. You should’ve never left him without his armor,” The air is silent as your blaster falls from your hands. No, you just saw him he couldn’t be. The guilt that crashed into you made you physically ill, no he was still there and safe. Cobb was…

“Without training, you are a danger to yourself and others. People will die because of your actions if you continue down this path.”

“You bastard!” Your body reacts running past Din and you get right around to see the man with blue skin and completely red eyes. His hand moves to the blaster on his waist and Boba grasps his own. Hands snatch your shoulders and you’re pulled behind the pillar as Din’s hand covers your mouth muffling your screams that turn to cries his other wrapped around your waist to stop you from running. Fennec has her rifle aimed out to cover you both as Din tries calming your breakdown.

“Shush you’re alright. You have to be quiet.” He whispers in your ear as he holds your back against his chest as you flail in his grasp as your tears and cries are quieted by his hand. His heart breaks hearing your cries it was cruel you had just seen the man who had helped raise you only to find out he was killed in cold blood.

“Before you get any ideas, I’ve got backshooters too. Let the spice move through Mos Espa, and all this can be avoided.” The man calls out as your struggle stops as you slump back to Din’s body tears streaming down your face.

“No.” Boba says and Bane looks at him his hands resting on his waist, “What do you propose then?”

“I will only negotiate with the head of the Pyke Syndicate.” Boba says and Bane grins ready for the killing blow, “You mean the one that massacred your Tusken family and blamed it on a speed bike gang?” Boba is frozen by the memories of the ones that taught him the ways of Tusken, he had thought it was the speed bike gang.. “You know it’s true.”

Boba’s hand moves his finger resting on the trigger and Fennec appears from behind the pillar her rifle ready as she calls out to him, “Boba.”

“Let’s do this right here, right now.” Bane taunts him as anger runs through his veins. He could do it right now.

“Not now. You pick when.” Fennec reminds him but he shakes his head, “He killed Vanth. The reinforcements aren’t coming.”

“We fight on our terms, not theirs.” She says trying to convince him but anger had taken over him as they were clearly at the disadvantage, the Mandalorian behind the pillar was busy calming the grieving girl and he was blinded by the idea of killing Bane.

“I can take him.” He says his voice rough, “You’re emotional.”

“I can take him.” He grits out and Fennec moves to stand right beside him.

“We need to adjust. You’ll have your moment.” She reminds him. Understanding where he was coming from but it wasn’t the time. The anger clears his vision just enough to listen to her reasoning and his finger leaves the trigger.

“Tell your client negotiations are terminated.” He says turning and Bane calls out to him making him look back. “You’re going soft in your old age.”

Looking at the other bounty hunter the man that knew his father that knew him before he responds, “We all do.”

You’re pulled inside the sanctuary Boba and Fennec following afterward as the majordomo starts speaking, “That was an impressive display of restraint. Exemplary stratagem. If I may be so bold as to offer additional counsel-”

“I wonder how much he would pay for the Twi’lek.” Boba says and that shuts him up, “Understood. Many pardons. I should never have interjected.”

You shove Din off you moving towards the back of the room the guilt and sorrow in your chest turn into something ugly. It was burning in your veins the anger you had felt on that cruiser, the rage that fueled your body. Your knees hit the floor and your hand grabs the saber resting on your belt. The small pearl resting inside the kyber crystal chamber is the first gift you’ve ever got from him. He raised you…protected you..and he was gone. You clutch the blade to your chest mourning over the loss of the man you once saw as a father. Those ugly thoughts whisper in your ears, he would be alive if you were there to protect him, you got him involved with the Pykes and now he’s dead, Freetown blames you for his death, you killed their Marshal…their protector. The fear and anger bleed through your body unaware of it seeping into the weapon in your hands.

Din looks over at where you sit on the ground staring off completely shutting out the world. Your droid stands beside you but you don’t even notice it. He didn’t know what to say or do, he wasn’t good at going through loss. He moved on when someone died having connections was not safe for a man who is constantly put in danger. But you were just a child…you wore your heart on your sleeve and he was forced to watch you lose yourself with the man’s death.

Boba and Fennec are silent, the other man going through his own form of mourning with the truth of the Tuskens’ death. Silence fills the destroyed sanctuary before Drash’s voice comes in through the comms, “Come in, boss. Come in. Something feels strange over here.”

“Have the Pykes arrived?” Boba asks, “Not yet, but something feels off.” The woman responds and suddenly there’s blaster fire

“The locals are attacking! I thought we had a treaty.” Drash shouts over blaster fire and Boba frowns at the news,

“So did I.”

“They laid a trap!” Drash yells out before the comms go mute as Boba yells trying to get in touch with the Wookie, “Santo! Santo, come in!”

“It’s a coordinated attack. We’ll have to gather our people.” Boba says looking at Fennec and Din who listens in keeping an eye though on the girl in the back.

“There’s no way to overcome their advantage. We need to take out command and control.” Fennec shakes her head and Boba curses.

“Does the Pyke Syndicate still operate out of Mos Eisley?” Boba asks Shaiz’ majordomo who tries not to reveal the full information.

“Oh, it’s difficult to say for certain that…” Three blasters are pointed at him and he corrects himself, “Mos Eisley? Yes, now that I think of it, indeed they do. More specifically, the Desert Survey Office.”

Boba turns to the assassin, “Can you do that? Can you get there in time?” She shrugs, “Worth a shot.” She quickly departs taking a speeder and zooming through the streets.

“They’re here,” Din calls out and Boba joins him looking through the broken window as the Syndicate forces begin to move in surrounding the whole front of the building.

“It was just a matter of time. Is Cad Bane with them?” He asks trying to spot him but Din shakes his head, “Don’t see him. Any news on the others?”

Boba looks defeated, “Would be a miracle if any survived. All three gotras of Mos Espa turned on us.” He says and Din nods,

“It was the smart move.”

“It was. I suppose you’ll be heading out.” Boba asks seeing the very imminent failure.

“I’m not.” He refuses but Boba gives him the chance, “You should.”

“It’s against the Creed. I gave you my word. I’m with you until we both fall.” Din says and Boba looks at him, “You really buy into that bantha fodder?” He asks and the Mandalorian nods

“I do.” Fett chuckles checking the cartridge of his blaster, “Good.”

“The way I see it, we have two choices. We wait until they get into position and launch a siege on their terms.” Din says and Fett looks at him, “Or?”

“We rush out there, catch them unaware,” Din gives a quick but shoddy plan, “Then we can escape to your ship at the palace.” Fett shakes his head hearing the end of the plan.

“I can’t abandon Mos Espa. These people are counting on me.” He explains and Din nods pulling out his blaster, “Okay, then. We’ll both die in the name of honor.”

“You sure you wanna stay?” He says he was giving him the chance to leave, especially with the girl he was protective of.

“This is the way.”

“If I may offer an alternative?” The majordomo cuts in and the two bounty hunters look at him silently, “Shall I continue?...I’ll continue. You may not know this about me, in fact, how could you, except perhaps what vestiges remain of my accent, but… I was educated on Coruscant. Not that that makes me better in any way.”

“Get to it.” Fett cuts him off and he nods sharply getting back on track,

“Yeah, uh… I attended finishing academy. My parents were not wealthy by any means. I specialized in Civic Council Negotiations. Now, if you would feel confident empowering me to negotiate on your behalf, I’m fairly certain we would be granted passage off world with, at worst, some theatrical, symbolic, groveling gestures and an exchange of funds.”

Fett is silent before nodding, “Very well. Give me your tablet. I will write out my statement and what I am willing to pay.” Taking the majordomo’s tablet and starts writing as he smiles, “I shall go as your emissary. I have no compunction whatsoever genuflecting or even groveling if needs be, which would save you from any potential bruising of ego, so to speak.”

Fett returns the table before gesturing outside, “Now go before I change my mind.”

“Yes. Excellent.”

Din looks over to where his adopted daughter rests panic runs through his veins finding you and your droid missing. “Kid?!” He shouts but it’s too late to try finding you as their plan was already in action

“Salutations! Salutations! I am unarmed but for this tablet bearing the terms of surrender. I wish to present to whomever spokesperson is empowered to deliberate an acceptable outcome in the eyes of the Oba Diah high council.” The majordomo calls out with open arms to the armed men outside the Sanctuary. The commander of the group steps forward looking at him,

“Read it to me, tail-head.” He spats and the majordomo points to his head laughing at the joke, “Oh, because of the enchanting sobriquet, and one of which I never tire. Yes. Someday I hope to see the fabled Obsidian Cliffs of Oba Diah with my own eyes.”

“Read it.”

“Agreed. Let us dispense with the pleasantries,” Clearing his throat he looks at the written surrender, “I, Boba Fett, speaking as Daimyo of the Tatooine territories formerly held by Jabba the Hutt, do present the following offer,” His voice trails off having read ahead quickly growing silent, “Perhaps we should discuss what you’d be willing to…”

“Read it.” The man repeats growing tired.

“…following offer. Nothing. Uh…You will leave this planet and your spice trade. If you refuse these terms…,” Clearing his throat fear taking over his body as he’s forced to keep reading, “…the arid sands of Tatooine will once again flourish with flowered fields fertilized with the bodies of your dead.”

The Pyke commander lifts his blaster at the majordomo as he holds his hands up, “His words.”

Before the majordomo can be executed, Fett and Din soar in on their jetpacks gunning down the Syndicate soldiers. Though they are fired back the beskar armor protects them and with their weapons and the surprise strike the two are able to take down many of the Syndicate soldiers on their own. Firing his whistling birds Din takes down several Pykes and Boba sends an attack with his flamethrower. Bolts hit the two of them striking them back as they grow too much as they are knocking them down.

“They just keep coming.” Boba groans firing at as many soldiers as he cans but when one falls down another appears.

A few soldiers draw closer to the two of them as they try taking them down when they suddenly are pulled into the air dropping their blasters and clutching their throats. The soldiers and the two bounty hunters look around for who was doing this when a loud crack fills the air as their necks all snap in sync their bodies hitting the ground.

A screech fills the air and they all look over as fear strikes through them, even the bounty hunters seeing their ally. Din felt his throat close up and he was back on the cruiser, frozen watching you beat the life out of Moff Gideon. The rage in your eyes as your fist pounded caving in the man’s face the blood coating your body. What frightened him was seeing the weapon in your hand but it crackled in the air the plasma blade wild and chaotic reflecting your emotions. It was the color no longer orange but a blood red, a color all knew that referred to the opposite of the Jedi.

The color of the Sith.

“Is that a Jedi?” One of the Syndicate soldiers calls out the confusion in their tone. Unsure if the red-lightsaber wielder was their enemy or their ally. A snap fills the air as their neck turns a full 180 and they drop dead. You drop your hand the other clutching the saber your anger and hate bleeding into the weapon as it grows more powerful but also more unstable.

“Where is Cad Bane.” You growl out as blaster fire aims right at you. Dodging or reflecting the bullets back at them as they try to fight back but your rage is flooding through your veins. The blood pumping in your ears as you decapitate a soldier turning the blade around to stab another that tries to get the jump on you from behind. Din and Fett watch in awe but also in slight horror as your fluid movement with the weapon massacres their enemies. You arch the blade up slamming it down on one as they are split in half. The shades and hues of different blood coat your hands and parts of your body.

Grabbing one by the neck after cutting his hands off you pull him into the air, “Where. Is. Cad Bane.” You hiss as he screams in pain and you dig your saber deep into his chest silencing him.

The roar of a speeder and blaster fire comes from behind unaware reinforcements arrive. “The people of Freetown,” Boba calls out firing out as they move towards the armorer vehicle filled with people firing at the Pykes. Din wants to pull you away from the fight as you are in the middle of it but is unable to move beside the speeder seeing Taanti,

“I’m sorry about the Marshal.” Din gives his condolences as the Weequay fires out at the soldiers,

“They gunned him down in cold blood.” He hisses and Din feels his heartbreak trying to think about how you were feeling.

“You didn’t have to come here.” He says and Taanti shakes his head, “Yes, we did. This planet deserves better. I don’t know how she’s dealing with it.” And they two see you slash your blade through another man not getting a second to breathe as you block blaster fire to kill another man. This is what he feared, he had seen your old self start to come back but it was crushed so quickly. The bloodlust and anger in your eyes, when the punches stopped being held back the attack not to defend yourself but to make them hurt. For them to feel the suffering that you felt. Blood soaked the sands as you tear through their defenses, but it was the moment he saw you hesitate to take in much-needed air he saw you go down.

“Kid!” Din yells running straight into the chaos, as the others give him cover, and the arrival of the mods pulled the soldiers' focus away from you. He sees your hand grabbing your leg your saber held in the other, you swing at him still blinded but he’s able to block it with the beskar. Your arm drops seeing it’s Din as he pulls you up to stand trying to take most of your weight off pulling you to safety and your free hand blocks blaster fire with your saber. Once around the safety of the Freetown armored speeder, your back is against the speeder as Din kneels in front of you. Your thigh was bleeding from a bolt striking you there, he rips part of your cloak and ties it above the wound to stop you from bleeding out. You go to move but Din pushes you back down the fighting still going on around you.

“I have to get Cad! I have to kill him! For Cobb-” “You’re done!” Din yells pushing you back down as you try to get back up again. Your gaze is fierce as you stare down Din and he holds you against the speeder. “You’re done, kid…” He says his voice weak.

“They’re falling back!” Someone yells out and you struggle to stand as Din helps you up an arm around your waist to keep you up. You could see the Pykes retreating away as the people around you cheer and celebrate.

“Freetown!” “Yeah!”

“I wouldn’t celebrate yet. We got problems,” Din says as you see coming around the corner two very large spider-like droids, “We got real problems.”

Blasters and even Fett’s missiles are useless with their powerful deflector shields as they turn and take aim at the vehicle. “Run! We’ll distract them.” Din helps you run away as the attack hits the speeder and it explodes in a ball of fire. The people of Freetown, the Mods, and Krrsantan start to flee down the streets of Mos Espa as the three of you stay back.

“Go get out of here!” Din yells and you shake your head pulling out your saber the red blade appearing with a crackle and roar,

“I’m not leaving you!” You shout back quickly dodging a bolt from hitting you as it collides. Rolling as the sand kicks up in the air from the powerful attack you hiss in pain looking at your leg and seeing the blood soaking through your pant leg. Din and Boba attack the droids their blasters making no dent and Din pulls out the Darksaber trying to pierce through their shields but it doesn’t go through.

“I can’t get through.” Din yells out as you keep moving backward avoiding the droids' attacks, “These two will destroy the whole city!” Fett shouts and Din tackles you when another attack is aimed at you. He helps you up as you keep running well yours is a half-sprint half-hobble

“Our energy weapons can’t get through, and our kinetic weapons have too much velocity,” Din says

“Can you protect the others?” Fett asks and Din nods, “I can distract them for a spell. Why?”

“Watch out!” Fett yells as you both dodge a bolt heading to the two of you, you grunt from the strain in your leg.

“We need reinforcements.” You wheeze out your arm wrapped around Din’s shoulder the other holding your saber.

“From where? You’ve run out of friends.” Din says aiming the comment at Fett.

“Protect the others.” He says before blasting off into the air leaving the two of you against the giant droids. Din fires at them and is able to get the attention of one as you both take off in the streets. You’re pulled forward by Din a clear trail of blood following behind you both as the droid fires upon you. Turning the corner you see a cart driven by a rickshaw droid heading toward you and a woman waving at the two of you.

“Mando! Ha! We found you! I got a surprise for you.” Peli calls out to you two as Din waves his hand forward,

“Turn around!” He yells over the sound of the droid getting closer and how far away you were. “What?”

“Turn around!” “Can’t hear you!”

“Turn around!” You both scream as the droid turns around the corner and Peli screams out as the cart quickly turns around. Din with the help of Peli helps you onto the back as he jumps on as well as the droid drives down the street.

“Can this thing go any faster? Go faster, you bucket of bolts!” Peli yells at the rickshaw droid as it speeds up and you have to clutch onto the back of the seat to hold on. Din fires back at the Scorpenek as it chases after you all, his focus was torn in two defeating the droid and making sure you were okay. Your hand was a death grip on the back of the seat the other deflected bolts from the droid. You were bloody and sickly-looking he could see your blood staining your pants from your injury.

“Hey, Mando! Look who’s here.” Peli calls out and you both look as she pulls a blanket off revealing the child you both look away only to whip back in shock.

“What? Hey, what are you doing here?” Din leans forward looking at Grogu in shock, “Buddy? How..” The small child jumps into Din’s arms and he pulls him into a hug,

“Oh! Okay, little guy. I’m happy to see you too. I didn’t know when I’d see you again. It’s okay. Yeah. I missed you too, buddy,” Din chuckles at the coo Grogu releases and you smile stroking his ears and he giggles, “But, uh… we’re in a bit of a bind here right now. You be careful. You keep your head down. You stay hidden until the fight’s over. Hey, that’s the shirt. You got the shirt.” He brings Grogu back to his seat and peeks inside his cloak spotting the beskar shirt hidden underneath.

“Save your tender moment. We’ve got a Scorpenek droid chasing us.” Peli shouts out as she fires her blaster past you.

“What is he doing here?” You ask and Peli shrugs, “The Force works in mysterious ways.”

The Scorpenek droid fires at you missing you all but it manages to shoot off the head of the rickshaw droid. It shakes before exploding as the cart flips from the momentum as you all are sent into the air. You see Din grab Grogu right as you crash into the ground groaning in pain as you turn to see the Scorpenek droid right upon you as you deflect its blaster fire. You come to stand but fall back down your hand presses against your thigh pulling back and seeing it stained red. Din yells out to you as the droid aims right at you but before it could fire a terrifying roar that makes you cover your ears distracted. Looking up seeing a rancor jump over several buildings dodging the fire from the droid. You’ve only heard the stories of the creatures hearing the legend that Jabba the Hutt had a rancor and those that disobeyed him would be fed to it.

The rancor appears before you and you see Boba Fett on top riding the beast as it manages to damage its shielding. You see Din appear behind the droid and use the darksaber to break inside the deflector shields. Climbing on top of the droid as it tries shaking him off and he slices off one of the gun turrets but is knocked off. It raises its leg to crush Din when you throw your saber it spins cutting off the leg and it returns back into your hand. The droid collapse gave Fett’s rancor time to finish tearing it apart and destroying the tech. Din grabs you pulling you into his arms as he embraces you and the child. His breath is shaky as he holds the two of you feeling like a part of him is whole again. He wasn’t sure how the child had gotten here but was thankful for the higher beings out there.

The attack of the second Scorpenek droid ends the touching moment as Din stands helping you up holding Grogu in his arms, “Keep ’em on their heels. They’re on the run.”

“Come on, let’s get the Pykes.” You say moving forward your saber ready as you join the battle against the remaining Pyke soldiers and the final droid. The rancor beats the droid into buildings and it fires at it but its hide absorbs the attack. It rips apart the turrets stopping the droid from firing it tries stabbing the rancor with its legs but the creature destroys it. With a roar, it destroys the droid before going after Pykes. You deflect blaster bolts from hitting you or your allies as you shove your hand out and it shoves back a few Pykes into stands of fruits or walls. A fresh breath of air fills your body and you sense the presence. Your head turns off in a direction and the anger that had been left distracted by others had felt it too. You could do it. Get your revenge..for Cobb. Your saber drops slightly as the blaster fire flies past you, you can reach out tapping into the force that surrounds you. Feeling the grains of sand, the smell of the blasters, the drip of sweat mixed with blood falling from your body, the muffled sounds of gunfire and shouting.

Then you find him as the world around you returns and you stare at his presence.

“Bane…”

Cad Bane fights against the Rancor firing his blaster at it before he scares it off from the fire in his vambraces. The creature roars throwing Fett off his back and flees into the streets of Mos Espa. Fett rises staring at the other bounty hunter across the street just the two of them.

“Clear out and take your hoodlum gang with you,” Fett calls out to the man.

“I’ve known you a long time, Boba. One thing I can’t figure. What’s your angle?” He admits and Fett shakes his head, “This is my city. These are my people. I will not abandon them.”

“Like the Tuskens.” Bane tries to goad Fett but he remains firm and doesn’t let the anger take over, “Don’t toy with me. I’m not a little boy any longer, and you are an old man.”

“I’m still faster than you.” Bane retorts.

“That may be, but I have armor.” He agrees but he had the advantage of the beskar armor that protected him.

“Let’s find out.”

The two stand still before whipping out their blaster, Bane hits Fett knocking him down his blaster flying from his hand. Looking down at him Bane stalks toward him, “Now’s about the time you jet off to your bacta tank.”

“This is my city!” Fett yells sitting up flames emitting from his vambraces as Bane dodges rolling out of the way and firing at him again knocking him back down.

“You gave it a shot. You tried to go straight. But you’ve got your father’s blood pumping through your veins. You’re a killer.” Kicking him back away from his weapon, Bane kicks his weapon away, “This isn’t the first time I beat you out on a job.” He slams his foot onto Fett’s wrist as he groans in pain pinning him down to his knee and digging into his chest as he shoves the blaster between the gaps of armor.

“There’s no shame in it,” Bane says ripping the helmet off Boba revealing his face as he glares at the man. Rising to stand still pinned he slowly raises his blaster, “Consider this my final lesson. Look out for yourself. Anything else is weakness.”

“Bane!” A voice calls out and the bounty hunt looks forward and Boba looks upside down trying to see who it was. On the end of the street is a girl covered in blood though not her own. She stands tall though Bane notices the weight she shifts off the injured leg. “You and I have business.” Your hand pulls the saber off your belt a screech fills the air as the red blade appears and you see Bane grin.

“A jedi?” He says and you raise it pointing it at him,

“You’re going to die for what you did.” You spat and he laughs only making you tighten your grip on the weapon.

“I think you’ve wandered off little lady..best get back to your Mandalorian.” He says and your glare is piercing.

“I’m exactly where I need to be.” You hiss and Bane steps away from Fett not before delivering a swift kick to his side making him groan.

“You know I’ve met your grandfather before,” Bane calls out and you bring your other hand to stabilize your grip on the saber, “I know who you are, you look just like Kenobi…but your anger is just like Skywalker.” He hisses the names to remember his enemies during the time of the Clone Wars.

“The Marshal died a painful death because of me…his screams filled Freetown.” He says and your vision goes red. You race towards him as he fires at you though you deflect them sending them back to him. Throwing your saber it spins toward him but he dodges the attack sending flames your way. Rolling underneath the attack grabbing your saber mid-air a beam of plasma clips your hair the loudness causing a ringing in your ear. Closing the distance you raise your saber to strike him down when he kicks you in the stomach you fall back and he fires right at your saber hitting the open chamber of the saber.

The plasma completely destroys the saber as the power cells become unstable and explode. You’re thrown back hitting the ground the wind ripped from your lungs as the destroyed saber rest before you. You were certain you blacked out when you hit the ground, your ears ringing as you gasp for air. Scratches from the shrapnel of the hilt decorate your face and hands. Shakily trying to push yourself up a kick to your face and you spit out blood before a foot digs into your chest pinning you back into the sand, Bane stands above you and you see the blaster raised and aimed at you when he’s attacked by Boba Fett. You force yourself to roll to your side pushing yourself up on shaky hands and catching Fett impale Bane with his gaderffii stick.

Blood pours from your face and nose as you drag yourself and rest on the sands the destroyed saber and the crystal shattered in pieces. Tears and blood blind you as your fingers shake trying to collect the pieces of the krayt pearl until the fragments rest in your palms. The gift you treasured for years, using it for your saber, destroyed by you…by your anger. Your head drops as you cry over the broken weapon mourning over losing one of the only things you could call yours.

Following the battle, Din realized you went missing before he received a call through his comm from Boba, that he had you. Arriving with Grogu in his arms and Peli and the others they found Boba Fett standing over the body of Cad Bane a grim look on his face. Din’s focus was instantly drawn to the girl keeled over in the sands. Rushing to her his movements slow down hearing the cries come from the girl and coming around to face her sees the destroyed saber resting in front of her as you clutch something in your hands to your chest. Slowly kneeling down and placing the child down beside his hands hover out in front of him.

“Kid..” He whispers making you look at him and his heart cracks. Cuts litter your face as blood a now steady trickle from your nose and your mouth. Your eyes were red fresh tears wet your waterline and lashes. Your bloody hands pull away from your chest opening it up and revealing the shattered pearl, “Oh kid..” He pulls you into his chest as you crumble crying into his chest. Din holds your head to him the other stroking your back.

“It’s…it’s my fault…I would get people hurt,” Your voice hoarse as he tries wiping the blood from your face, “People were…going to die…because of me.”

“No..no none of this is your fault okay…it’s not your fault cyar’ika.” He says holding your face between his hands as tears fill your vision.

“Din..” You fall back into his chest as he holds you to him. The small child looks on with a sad expression before coming between you two and you pull back as it brings his small hand over yours. His fingers barely cover a single finger and he closes his eyes focusing. You can feel the immense force coming off him as he pulls back then looks up at you and you understand the look in his wide eyes. You look at your hand at the pieces of the pearl it was dull lacking its shine and hue.

Closing your eyes you squeeze the portions of the pearl tightly in your fist pouring all your energy into it, turning the fear and anger that first harmed the crystal into love and peace. Thinking of all your positive memories, being on the Razor Crest with the child and Din, on Sorgan seeing trees and so much green for the first time, reuniting the Frog family with its children, coming home to Tatooine, and seeing Cobb. The memories you had with him, your first time meeting, he teaches you how to defend yourself, the times he took care of you when you were sick or soothed your fears when you had a nightmare, his horrid jokes as you worked on your speeder together, your fifteen birthday and actually celebrating it since your parents died, him gifting you the Krayt Pearl. Tears of sadness as the memories of Cobb fuel you to heal the crystal. Din watches you focus your eyes closed as you clutch the destroyed pearl between your hands. A weight is lifted off your shoulders and you open your eyes slowly opening your palm tears spring from your eyes seeing the intact crystal as it shimmers in the light. You look at the pearl a wide grin covers your features as he looks at the item resting in your hands. He would always remain amazed by the things you or the child could do just earlier seeing Grogu put the fierce rancor to sleep. You smile looking up at Din when all the energy in your body is drained as your vision goes black. Din was able to catch you the second your eyes rolled back, he panicked for a second seeing you collapse in front of him bringing his fingers to your pulse sighing in relief feeling your heartbeat. The pearl barely rests in your unconscious hands, the act of healing must have drained all your energy just like it had for the child who looks at the two of you.

“Come on kid,” Din says to Grogu as he grabs the pearl and the remaining pieces of your saber putting it in his satchel, his own gift still with him. Scooping you up into his arms he holds your unconscious body looking down at the small child beside his feet and then at the one in his arms. He felt at peace knowing the two of you were back with him, he would protect you two and make sure you never shed a single tear again. He swears on it.

You felt weightless a calming sensation surrounds you but the urge to wake up draws you away from the dreamless sleep you are in. Your eyes blink open and you notice you submerge in some cold liquid and a breathing device is in your mouth. Taking in a breath of air from the device as you try thinking back on how you got to hear everything in a blur. Suddenly the liquid drains as the capsule opens and you sit up pulling the apparatus from your mouth and taking in a shaky inhale suddenly aware you were soaking wet only in the new pair of clothes as they stick to your skin.

“Princess Kenobi-Kryze you are awake, your bacta session has fully healed your wounds.” A protocol droid rolls in as it hands you a robe that you quickly wrap around yourself. Being the cold water now out in the air your body shakes slightly as you try to warm yourself up. “I will notify Lord Fett and your party that you have awoken.” The droid doesn’t give you much time to answer especially the title as you sit there looking around the room, it was pretty empty besides the bacta tank and some other items which you assumed were Fett’s. You bring your hand to your face not feeling any cuts or scaring on your face. Looking at your leg pulling up the pants to see your thigh. Your fingers run along the smooth skin, the blaster wound not even leaving a mark

“Kid.” You turn seeing Din standing in the doorway the small green infant in his arms. He crosses the room before you’re even out of the machine his free arm wrapping around your head and pressing you to his chest. You can feel the shaky exhale he releases as he holds you to him Grogu grabs a finger with his small hands and you smile stroking his ears. He pulls back looking over you not a single scratch was left, the bacta completely healing your injuries.

“Come on kid, they're gonna need this tank.” He helps you to stand as he keeps a hand on your shoulder. You don’t get to ask when Drash and Skad bring in a man and the air leaves your system as they move past you quickly to place him inside.

“Cobb..” You whisper looking at the man as he’s placed inside the tank and they quickly close it up, it filling with bacta. “But they said…”

“He was able to get some help but the bacta will quicken the process,” Drash says as she looks at the man with understanding in her eyes and it hits you.

“You modified him..” Drash nods as you pull from Din’s arms stepping towards the tank and seeing the man resting peacefully in the healing bacta. Your hands rest against the glass wishing he could reach out and take yours. Resting your forehead against the tank whispering into it, “Please be alright.”

“Come on kid..” Din calls out as you stand up swiping the stray tear that threatens to fall and you pull returning to the Mandalorian as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, “Let’s get you dressed.” He says leading you like a child to another room as the droid comes over your clothes in its arms. Thanking the droid you head behind the privacy screen getting dressed grateful to be back in your clothes. Your fingers run along the clean fabric as you pull your pants up your legs surprised to see the sewing put in to fix your pants.

Returning around the screen Din still waiting there with the child in his arms as you holster your blaster and knife. It was like instinct to grab your belt to fix your saber but your hand comes empty. The pain from losing your saber is too fresh as a frown takes over your features.

“Hey kid,” Din calls out and you look at the man trying to hide the sad look on your face to no avail. He waves his hand for you to follow him. Leaving the tower as you move through Boba Fett’s palace until you reach the throne room and laying in the middle as a rug and a singular item wrapped in a cloth tied with a cord.

“What is this?” You look at the man as he leads you toward the rug placing the child down as it moves to the cloth sitting across from it.

“A gift.” He says taking you by the shoulders to make you sit on the rug in front of the object wrapped in cloth. Din moves back standing to the side and you look up at him as he gestures to you and then to the cloth, “Go on.” You give him a suspicious look before turning to the cloth and glancing at the child who is also looking in interest. Undoing the cord with care and putting it to the side you slowly undo the cloth, your breath gets caught in your throat when you see the item. The saber is in perfect recreation as it rests in separate pieces including the inner works. The only difference that you did notice was the metal of the hilts it had a slight marbling effect something you’ve never seen before. Grabbing a part of the hilt the cold metal presses against your skin, and you feel the weight of it but it was light at the same time.

“Is this beskar?” You look at Din as he nods at the shocked expression on your face. “But I thought beskar wasn’t meant to be weapons.” You ask as he moves towards you crouching down.

“It’s not, it’s technically considered taboo to Mandalorians, but like the child, you deserved armor as foundlings,” He points at the hilt resting in your hand, “This is your armor. To protect you as a Jedi…and a Mandalorian.” Din reaches into his satchel pulling out the krayt pearl and you perk up as he passes it to you and you accept it with such delicacy. The intact pearl shimmers in the light and has a faint warm glow that is brighter in the healed cracks. You look at the disassembled saber and the crystal in your palm slowly placing it back down onto the cloth as Din steps back. Taking a deep breath feeling your heartbeat loud and strong as it slows down with your breathing. Your hands rest on your knees as your palms face upward as your drift shut. Focusing on your breathing as the doors open as the Force rushes over you wrapping around your body like a blanket. It’s comforting and welcoming like an embrace protecting you as the small objects shake gently and then rise into the air. You can feel the sunlight through the sandstone, the texture of the handmade rug underneath you, hear the inhales from the child in front of you and the modulated breathes from the Mandalorian, tasting the crisp air, and the smell of fresh linens that wraps your body.

Din watches in amazement as the pieces of the weapon move throughout the air stopping in their desired places and the weapon forms before him. Working outwards on both ends towards the middle, the power cells are covered through wiring and the beskar hilt. The weapon of the Jedi imbue with the Force as it comes towards the middle the final piece of the puzzle being the krayt pearl is it slots itself in the open chamber but protected by the metal of his ancestors.

You open your eyes as the weapon rests before you. Reaching out towards it you feel the sudden weight of the beskar but in your hands, it lightens in your grasp. Your eyes trace the details of the saber as your finger rest on the button and you activate it. A screech fills the air as the plasma emits from the hilt. A gorgeous orange like the sunset on Tatooine bathes you in the color light. The healed crystal purifies it of the color of the Sith.

The blade retreats back into the hilt and you look at the saber resting in your hand but also the weapon on his belt, the whispers faintly coming from it calling you. Din follows your gaze seeing the Darksaber resting on his hilt before he pulls it off his belt holding it out to you. “I am not the owner of this weapon thus it should not be in my possession.” He explains that you froze it was fear that stopped you. The weapon that had cut through your flesh, in the possession of the man that slaughtered your people, was yours by right, your claim to the blade but also to the throne of a destroyed planet. But while no throne rests or no armor of your ancestors adorns your skin this weapon was yours to lead and rule the hidden Mandalorians scattered across the galaxy.

“Ibic cuyir te ara.” The whisper of the voice as a hand is ghost-like on your shoulder, and you feel the presence of the person before it fades as you take the weapon in your grasp feeling the weight of it as you attach it to your belt beside your saber. You felt the conflict in yourself as you hold the weapon meant for true rulers not orphans from Tatooine. Din could see the fear in yourself with this weapon and the responsibility it means to yourself. You look up at Din who is looking at you though you can’t tell what his expression is underneath the beskar.

“You can stay here, with Cobb have a home here on Tatooine. I won’t stop you.” Din says the fear of seeing you hurt again is too great for him to deal with. If he knew you were here and safe he could deal with his exile without fear. You look away to the child holding onto your pant leg. Bending down pulling the child into your arms you step forward and Din holds his breath ready for you to agree and leave his life. Your hand reaches out grabbing his holding onto the leather glove as his finger wraps around yours instinctively his thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

“I’m not leaving you,” You say looking at the man you see as a father figure, the man who protects and loves you, the man who would tear a part of the galaxy to see you safe with him, your buir, “I’ll follow you anywhere you go.” You promise him as he looks down at you.

He was at a loss for words, the girl he had originally meant to be a quarry, their relationship rocky and hesitant, but with time you had slowly broken down his walls and created a space in his heart, he would do anything to see you smile or to hear your laughter, put down his own life to make sure you and the child were safe, to allow you to be a kid…his kid, his ad. Din looks down at you before nodding,

“Okay.”

Din prepares the N-1 with the coordinates of the planet they were meant to travel sending the navigation to link with your X-Wing. From behind him, Grogu taps the dome with the small ball from the Razor Crest in his hands.

“No.”

A series of more taps as Din speaks again to the child in the pod seat built into the N-1.

“Uh-uh.”

More taps follow as Din grows more annoyed by the persistence of the child.

“No.”

A chuckle follows his comms as he looks over seeing you in your X-Wing watching the display, “Come on he’s not gonna stop until you do it.” You say as the child bangs on the glass more frantically. R4 produces his own response as you make a sound of agreement.

“Don’t need the opinion of the droid here.”

More banging comes from the glass making Din glance back at the child.

“All right. But this is the last time.” He says flipping the switch you watch the ship accelerate rapidly and you hear Gorgu’s squeals from the comms as it jumps to lightspeed. R4 beeps at you as you chuckle adjusting your grip on the joystick and punching in the coordinates,

“I know R4,”

Flipping the switch as the 5th engine roars ready and your finger hovers over the button to release the energy and jumps to hyperspace. To explore the galaxy as one adventure ends and another begins,

“This is where the fun begins.”

A/N: There is Clan of Three: Book of Boba Fett! Another part of this fantastic series is done! You are fucking incredible people and season three's first chapter is coming out next Wednesday!

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