#so i suppose i shall keep those in mind for next time
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shiny-heart-tree · 2 years ago
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Luna astronaut man
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mallowsweetmiri · 1 year ago
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Truth, Dare, or Punishment ~ Fred Weasley
summary: you bitches asked for dom!Fred and you shall receive. a game of truth or dare in the common room goes south when Mclaggen dares you to kiss him
warnings: possessive dom!Fred, smut, cursing
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The night had been going splendid so far. Everyone was way too excited after the arrival of Beauxbatons and Durmstrong to go to sleep, and the older Gryffindors decided to get shitfaced as the perfect solution to their restlessness. After all, there was no quidditch this year to justify throwing common room parties, so you guys had to get creative. The new year brought new witches and wizards to corrupt, and so the twins finally let their baby brother Ron and his year join the fun. It been going well, granted Hermione was drunk off her ass, but Harry had been watching over her well enough. You were also past the point of drunk, and you assumed by their faces that the rest of the group were on their way there. At this point in the night, those who were still awake were circled up playing a filthy game of truth or dare. Angelina had gone to do seven minutes in heaven with George, Neville had eaten a puking pastille, and Ron had madeout with Lavender Brown in a disturbing manner. It was time to spin the bottle again to see who would ask the next question. Hermione giggle and leaned into the circle to spin the bottle. Everyone look around with nervous smiles as it spun around and around, before landing on Cormac McLaggen. You cringed. This was possibly the worst person it could've stopped on. Your body had a visceral reaction when your name left his lips.
"Y/N," he smiled drukenly, "Truth or dare?" You rolled your eyes. Oh, great.
"Truth," you said, grabbing your drink and taking a swig. You were going to need it.
"Who did you lose your virginity to?"
You choked on your drink as the rest of the group murmured at the question, Hermione's jaw dropping before a stream of shocked laughs escaped her. You felt Fred tense up beside you. Your mind raced with the memories of this summer at the Burrow.
"Just like that, Y/N. You're doing so good," Fred praised as he thrusted into you, kissing the crook of your neck while he fucked you. He'd been teaching you how kiss, as a friend of course. He had to help out his dear friend Y/N when she confessed how embarrassed she was that she had never kissed anyone. Never done anything with anyone. From there it had escalated. First, you wanted to know learn to give a blowjob, but soon enough Fred thought it'd be best if you knew what these things felt like too. After a while, you both realized you were terribly obsessed with each other, and one night you decided to let him be the one to take your virginity. He was big, and you were nervous, but he was so sweet about it. Even at the beginning when you thought it wouldn't be able to fit, he was reassuring and gentle with you. But that was at the start, and by now he was fully fucking you on your back, your pussy starting the soften around his cock as pleasure began to ripple through your body. You both came together in a heap of sweat and kisses.
"Y/N," McLaggen sung, waiting for your response.
"I'm not answering that," you coughed, still choking on your drink. The group has set up measure to tell if someone was lying, so you couldn't fake still being a virgin. You supposed the question wasn't that out of pocket, but you couldn't answer it. Nobody knew about you and Fred besides George, and you both wanted to keep it that way. Especially from your families.
"Well then, you know the rules," McLaggen tsked teasingly, "you forfeit to dare."
"What? No, I-"
"Those are the rules Y/N," Hermione cringed, unable to stop herself. McLaggen smirked.
"I dare you to kiss me."
You felt nauseous. McLaggen was disgusting, and the last person you'd ever want to kiss. Unfortunately, you'd brought this onto yourself. You should've known he would dare someone to kiss himself. What a weirdo. The circle groaned and laughed in disgust as McLaggen puckered his lips. You cringed and shifted your weight to lean across the circle. Just as you were about to shuffle over to him, Fred grabbed your wrist and pulled you back. You looked back at him and saw anything but a smile on his usually cheerful face. He spun the bottle and landed it on himself in a hasty motion, still holding onto your wrist tightly.
"McLaggen, I dare you to stop wearing your fucking Ballycastle Bats tighty whities to every single quidditch practice," Fred sneered before yanking you up with him and pulling you towards his dorm. You heard the group go crazy with laughter behind you and hoped it would cover for the fact that Fred just pulled you away from the party. Hopefully George could cover for you two, he should be done with seven minutes by now. Fred dragged you up the stairs without so much as a look in your direction. Once you reach his dorm, he threw open the door. What was happening?
"Fred-" he smashed his lips into yours and shut the door with your body. You gasped as your back hit to wooden surface, Fred pulling your skirt up while his hand gripped your thigh. He used your lifted leg as leverage to grind down into your hips as he pressed you against the door. Your pussy pulsed when you felt him against you, his hands gripping in all the right places. Wait a minute. When did he start kissing you again?
"Fred," you said quickly, pulling away from his mouth. He tried to kiss you again. "Fred, we just left the party. You just dragged me up here when I was supposed to kiss-"
"Don't even say his name," Fred growled, his breathing heavy and hot as he kept his face inches from yours.
"I'm sorry," you whispered out, unable to speak properly. You'd never seen Fred mad before.
"I'm sorry I dragged you," he softened, ducking his head down to kiss your neck, "but I wasn't going to let somebody else kiss you." With that, he began to attack your neck. His left hand came up to grip the back of your head as his tongue and teeth lapped at your sweet spot. You let out whimpered moans as he worked, his fingers gripping you just right. Rougher than usual.
"Freddie," you moaned, grinding yourself onto his leg. You needed more. This man had hooked, and you'd never been so addicted in your life. He picked you up under your legs and carried you to the bed before placing you down on your back. He stood over you, leaving you panting on the bed as he took off his shirt and undid his belt. His eyes were locked on yours. You wanted to look away but you couldn't, his gaze wouldn't let you. When he finished, he rushed towards you again, kissing you deeply as his hand flipped your skirt up. His tongued rammed itself into your mouth, stifling your moans when his fingers grazed over your clit. You blushed as his fingers masterfully moved your panties aside and dipped into your core. Fred laughed into the kiss as he felt you.
"Already so wet for me," he breathed huskily, "are you ready to take me?" His words had you aching. You nodded up at him bashfully. You wanted him so badly. You had turned into such a slut for his cock. "Good girl." He sat up and flipped you over, pulling your panties down as he took off his own pants. He didn't bother to take off your skirt as he pulled you back onto him. You let out a guttural moan as you felt his length stretching you out.
"Fuck, Freddie," you whined as he gripped your hips and began to thrust into you. He was going to leave bruises for tomorrow, but you didn't care.
"You're taking it so good, Y/N" Fred groaned, smacking your ass, "you like getting fucked by me? Huh?" He picked up his pace, pounding into you hard. Your moans were bouncing with the rhythm of his thrusts as he waited for your reply.
"Y-yes, Freddie. I love when you fuck me," you whined, feeling you pussy begin to clench around him. His dick twitched at the feeling and groaned. In one motion, he pulled out and spun you onto your back, pulling your shirt up over your tits and pinning your wrists above your head.
"God, you look so fucking pretty. Can't see your beautiful face while I'm behind you," Fred grunted as he thrust back into you. You moaned and threw you head back. You writhed underneath Fred, his hand constraining your wrists. You desperately needed to grasps something. You were reaching the edge.
"Freddie," you cried, unable to say anything except his name. Your eyes clenched shut as you felt your stomach knot up one final time.
"That's it, baby. Come for me." You could feel his eyes on you as you released yourself around his throbbing cock. As the waves of pleasure began to slow, Fred grunted and became sloppy. He released your hands and buried his face into your neck as he came, pushing himself as deep as he could inside of you. He laid there for a moment before pushing himself off you and pulling you onto his chest. You couldn't help but giggle a little as he kissed your head and rubbed your shoulder.
"You are so jealous," you teased, looking up to see Fred. He laughed with a sleepy half smiled.
"I'm not jealous," he retorted, pinching your cheek. "I'm just protecting whats mine."
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supernotnatural2005 · 2 months ago
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‘Mr Right Now’
(Source)
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 1.4k
Warnings/tags: Implied Smut (18+), swearing, fluff, one night stand... kinda, mentions of cheating
A/N: Entirely based on this lil clip right here 👆🏻😂, however this will be from the reader’s POV in the beginning and perhaps a lil' insight into Dean’s funny walk 👀🤣
Main Masterlist
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Valentine’s Day.
It’s supposed to be your favourite night to work. Singles Night always brings in a good crowd, fun music, and flirty banter that makes your shift fly by. But tonight?
Tonight, you want to crawl under the bar and disappear.
Six months ago, your ex — Travis — said you were “pressuring” him when you asked if he’d ever thought about marriage or kids. After three years together, you figured it wasn’t a crazy question. But the truth came out not long after: he’d been sleeping with your downstairs neighbour. Class act, right?
And today? You found out he just proposed to her.
Yeah. Happy freakin’ Valentine’s Day.
So yeah, you’re bitter. And tired. And trying not to punch the next person who asks for a “Love Me Long Time” shot with a wink.
You were mid-pour when you noticed him. Dean. That rugged, flirty regular who always nursed his whiskey like he had secrets too heavy to say out loud. It’d been a while since he last came in — his job took him all over, he’d once vaguely mentioned. Never said much more.
But tonight, he looked good. That usual cocky smirk in place, dark flannel and jeans and those green eyes doing their usual scan of the room before settling on me.
“Hey, stranger,” you say, once you finished up with your customer, managing a warm smile.
“Here to scope out the sea of desperation?” You teased. And Dean grinned, shaking his head.
You knew he played the field, usually always leaving with a woman on his arm. And a day like today must be like hitting the jackpot for him. You didn’t judge him for it though, these ladies knew what they were getting into.
“That obvious, huh?” he chuckles, his eyes already making their familiar appreciative sweep over you. He’d aimed and missed with you once before — back when you were still with ‘he-who-shall-not-be-named.’ But he respected the boundary, and you appreciated that. Now, though… you find yourself not minding if he looks.
“I mean, if you want to feed yourself to the piranhas, who am I to stop you.” You winked and then poured his usual - double whiskey, neat. 
“I’m surprised you’re working tonight,” he says, eyeing you over the rim of his glass. “Thought you’d be spending Valentine’s with… what’s his name again? Trevor? Tyrone?”
“Travis,” you correct, unable to keep the disgust from your voice. The name tastes like poison now.
Dean notices. Raises a brow. “Trouble in paradise?”
“Try dumping me after three years because I had the audacity to ask about our future,” you say with a tight smile. “Turns out, it wasn’t because I was pressuring him — it was because he was screwing the twenty-four-year-old downstairs.”
“No shit.” Dean blows out a breath, brows raised.
“Shit. And get this.” You lean in like you’re telling him the world’s dirtiest secret. “I found out today, of all damn days, the asshole proposed to her.”
You let out a bitter laugh. Dean just shakes his head.
“What a douchebag,” he mutters, voice rough with genuine annoyance on your behalf.
“Just feels like such a giant waste of time, you know.” you sigh, glancing out at the dance floor where the lonely and the bold are coupling off, laughing, swaying, kissing. All of them looking far less wrecked than you feel.
Then Rachel — your co-bartender and part-time devil on your shoulder — slides in beside you, muttering with a smirk, “Well, you know what they say… Best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.”
She nods toward Dean before spinning off to help another customer. Subtle as ever.
“She’s not wrong,” Dean says, that glint in his eye turning mischievous.
You raise a brow, curious. “What, are you offering?”
“I wasn’t not offering,” he replies smoothly.
Your pulse skips.
The tension between you two has always been there — a low simmer under the surface. Banter. Glances. But you were off-limits. Now?
Now you’re single. And hurting. And Dean’s looking at you like he’s more than willing to be your rebound.
“I’m off in an hour,” you say, leaning across the bar just enough to let him see the smirk tugging at your lips. “Think you’ll survive?”
Dean’s grin is slow, sinful. “Oh, sweetheart. I’ve been waiting for the last year. What’s sixty more minutes?”
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An hour later, Dean’s on your couch, thick thighs spread, watching you strip off your jacket with hooded eyes.
You straddle his lap, fingers sliding through his hair as you kiss him. It’s rough, desperate, unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. His hands grip your waist, pull you flush against him, and you moan into his mouth.
“My ex,” you whisper against his lips, “used to call me a sex freak.”
Dean tilts his head, grinning. “Yeah? Sounds like the douchebag couldn’t keep up.”
You roll your hips against him, feeling him hard beneath you. “Said I was too much.”
“Sweetheart,” he growls, voice low and thick, “I like too much.”
Your clothes hit the floor in a trail of chaos. You barely make it to the bedroom before he’s pushing you against the wall, kissing you like a man starved.
Somewhere between the laughter and the gasps, you tie his wrists to the headboard with your scarf.
His eyes go wide. “Oh, you are wild.”
You just smile. “Still game?”
Dean huffs a laugh, already breathless. “Hell yes.”
And he is. Game for all of it. For your hands, your mouth, the way you ride him like you’ve got something to prove — maybe to yourself, maybe to him. He lets you take control, lets you wreck him, and when he finally comes undone beneath you, sweaty and flushed and utterly ruined, he lets out a hoarse, “Fuck... I’m gonna feel that for a week.”
You collapse next to him, laughing into the curve of his shoulder.
“Want me to kiss it better?”
He turns his head, kisses you slow and sweet. “I think now it’s my turn, sweetheart.” 
And before you can reply, he’s rolling you beneath him, dragging you into round two with a look that says he’s nowhere near done.
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When you wake the next morning, deliciously sore in all the best ways, you turn to find Dean still there, tangled in your sheets, a lazy arm draped over your waist. You smile and appreciate his beauty for a minute and wonder why you hadn’t just fucked Travis off sooner and took up Dean’s offer, because holy shit that was probably the best sex you’d ever had. 
Dean seems to notice your staring and hums as he pulls you closer, planting a kiss on your bare shoulder, then your neck, all the way up until he’s claiming your lips once more. 
You sigh happily into it and as he shifts closer and he groans. “Damn, sweetheart. You really did a number on me.” He chuckles and drops his head to your shoulder.
You giggle beneath him, but bite your lip a little insecure. “Too much?”
He seems to notice your apprehension and lifts his head, his grin is lopsided as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Never too much. I’ll take the limp proudly.”
The two of you burst out into laughter and then spend another 20 minutes sharing a few more lazy kisses before he finally vacates your apartment, leaving you with one last long, lingering kiss at the door and a promise of a repeat.
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Back at the bunker, Dean limps into the kitchen like he’s been hit by a truck, wincing with every step. He makes a beeline for the fridge, yanks it open, and grabs a questionable takeout container like a man on the edge.
Sam glances up from his laptop, frowns. “Is that a hickey?”
Dean pops the lid, scoops a bite of rice into his mouth and immediately spits it out, not caring if half of it ends up on the floor. He was too hungover for this.
He sets down the container and shuffles toward the coffee pot like it’s holy salvation. Thank God Sam’s an early riser.
“And?” Dean grunts. “It was Valentine’s Day. Can’t help it if I’m a hopeless romantic.”
“You got half of that right,” Sam mutters, not looking up.
Dean smirks. “Just doing my civic duty. Helping a recently single lady rediscover her joy.”
“So… you were the rebound?”
Dean rolls his eyes. “You know the best thing about February fourteenth? You don’t have to be Mr. Right. Just Mr. Right Now, and if that means in the rebounding sense, who cares? I still got laid.”
Sam scoffs. “Classy.”
Dean huffs, tired of the third degree. “Yeah? What did you do, judgy? Curl up in a snuggy, watch fifty shades on cable?” 
“Yeah. No.” Sam huffs humourlessly.
Meanwhile, Dean sips his coffee, eyes unfocused as his mind wanders back to the scratch of your nails down his back, the gasp you made when he kissed that spot behind your knee, the way your voice broke when you said his name.
Yeah. He thinks.
Best. Night. Ever.
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AN: I hope you guys enjoyed this one, it was a fun little experiment and just what my brain conjured up watching this clip lol 😂 I don't know about you guys, but Dean could happily be my rebound 😍
If you would like to be tagged in my future works please respond to this >form< so I can add you to the character's you'd like 😊
Dean Winchester/series Tag List:
@bettystonewell , @nancymcl , @happyfxckinghorrors , @ambiguous-avery @jollyhunter
@tbgfvfdcb @crooked-haven @chevroletdean @paganvamp @stoneyggirl2
@deans-baby-momma @spnaquakindgdom @ladykitana90 @lyarr24 , @impala67rollingthroughtown
@jackles010378 @riteofpassage77 @spnaquakindgdom @shadysoulangel @my-stories-vault
@piptoost @star-yawnznn @deansimpalababy @megara0224 @hobby27
@idontwannabehere78 @maddie0101 @kr804573 @shadysoulangel @mrs-nesmith
@zepskies @ohheyguyss @suckitands33 @ultimatecin73 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess
@arcannaa @aylacavebear @bobbdylann @jaredpadonlyyyy @waynes-multiverse
@impala67stellawinchester @youroldfashioned @bonbonnie88 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @bejeweledinterludes
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ladyoftheblades · 11 months ago
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her heart his duty
gwayne hightower x reader
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synopsis: gwayne did not oft travel to court but a visit to his sister was long overdue and young daeron was to join him as a ward at oldtown soon enough. yet when he arrived he found more interest in a young silver haired girl, the kings very own daughter, his sisters stepdaughter.
warnings: smut, dry humping, masturbation, vouyerism, corruption kink, religious guilt, agegap relationship, intoxication, unrealistic fainting, step incest (?)(uncle step niece)
a/n: i had to tweak some things bc gwayne was a little (a lot) ooc originally, thus i gave him religious guilt. also ive been reading laughter in the dark so i think it influenced me. ENGLISH IN NOT MY NATIVE LANGUAGE i am also dyslexic.
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three moons it took to travel from oldtown to kings landing. three months of ridiculus talks and gossips from his supposed to be profesional fellow knights, subpar meals at inns and dingy taverns and horseback rides from dawn to dusk, gwayne had had enough. the gates of the red keep resembled those of the heavens.
his thighs were raw and scaffed from the saddle, his back drenched from the summer heat. the reception to their arrival was at the very least nice. his sister stood on the courtyard, looking the vision of a queen, though they had not grown up together he loved her with his whole heart. he knew the hardships she faced at court were nothing compared to his. a small gaggle of silver haired children were situated around her, two boys on one side, aegon and aemond he mused on the other an absent minded girl and a small boy clutching her skirts, helaena and little daeron. he had once mission: spend some time with the young prince, train him, make him feel comfortable enough to leave home with him and get out.
he dismounted and stood infront of his family. "welcome brother" said his sister. he took her hand into hers and kissed it. "sister, how youve grown" she gave him a warm smile. "allow me to introduce you, this is aegon"
the boy looked bored and his bloodshot eyes as hell as the purple stain in his tunicsleeve told him he was intoxicated as well. aegon only gave a small nod. his mother gave him a scornfull look but said nothing. "next to him is aemond"
"welcome uncle" "it is good to meet you my prince"
"this is my daughter, helaena" continued alicent. the girl gave a curtsy, he gave her a warm smile, she was the spitting image of her mother at this age. "and finally, this is little daeron" the boy only clutched his mothers skirts harder, hiding his face partially behind the dress. gwayne crouched down to be at eye level with his nephew.
"hello, young prince" his hand went to his pocket and pulled out a small hankerchief. he pulled the hankerchief appart to reveal a small wooden dragon. "this, i brough for you especially. it was given to me by mine own uncle, now i pass it to you"
the boy eyes lit up with curiosity, the toy an enticing offer, coaxing him out of his little hiding place. his hands left the fabric and reached out to get the toy, examining it with his hands, a smile tugging at his mouth. "what do we say, daeron ?" said his mother. "thank you uncle gwayne"
gwayne smilled and rose to his feet. "trot along now, i shall see ypu this eve for training, do you enjoy archery, young prince ?" he added. daeron nodded, eyes still trained on his b rand new toy. "very good then, i shall see you soon" and with that the siblings each went their respective way.
gwayne took a moment to study the courtyard, knights walked left and right, some stewards attended to their horses, further back toward the gardens sat a few ladies sat gossiping. as he studied the area, a curious figure caught his eye. a young girl, silver haired and wearing traditional targaryen red, stood behind a wall, her body was somewhat hidden, but her head poked out in curiosity, revealing long silver locks, traditional to the house targaryen. he studied her form from bottom to top, reaching her face. cute, he thought, when he searched to look at her eyes, he found them looking back at him. but they did not stay that way long for the second she realised her curiosity was returned, they widened and she diapeared behind the wall at once.
"is something the matter, brother ?" his sister said, noting his prolonged silence. he returned to his sister "has a silver cat in the shape of a lady made home at the keep or is perhaps another daughter you have hidden from me ?"
his sister gave him another smile "no brother, i believe you saw my step-daughter" gwaynes face twisted into one of confusion. "the princess rhaenyra ?"
"no brother, the younger. she is not half bad, nothing like her sister anyway, she is quite shy especially with strangers. you may not see her at all in the time you spend here." his expression softened, still curious but now moreso.... intrigued.
"come, let me show you to your rooms, you must be exhausted" alicent continued, interlocking her arms begining to pave their way to the guest chambers. they reared the wall behind which the princess had disapeared, excpecting to see her eunning along to avoid him but she was nowhere to be found. how could one diapear so swiftly ?
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his chambers were plain, nothing like the ones at oldtown, he was not spoiled but being son and heir to one of the wealthiest houses of the realm grew him accustomed to a certain standard of luxury. they were also exceptionally dull. his training session with daeron had a while to come yet, and thus he decited to visit the so famed library of the red keep. he walked the halls and arrived to the room, excpecting it to empty,most of the lords and ladies preocupied with the official hightower visit.
he oppened the heavy mahogany doors, stepping in cautiously. the room was as excpected, quiet and empty. almost. in front of him, to the other side of the room, sat a small sette near the fireplace. that was no unordinarity, the odd thing, was the oppen book gracing the table, the small blancet hastily disgarded to the side of the armchair and the haphazardly thrown around pillows. clear signs someone was occupying the space. he only knew of one person who would vanish at the sight of a stranger.
he looked around the room, taking note of any further evidence to suggest human activity. and there it was, a hankerchief to the right of the sette. his gaze scanned the shelves nearby the misplaced cloth, and surely, he could make out a form two bookcases back. he smirked to himself, he would coax the girl out whether she liked it or not.
he took a cautious step forth, silently traversing the room, he walked to the sette and picked up the dicarded hancerchief. the figure had not moved from its hiding place. he walked further, amongst the bookcases, pretending to browse the books. when he got close to the form, it began to run, he gave chase, swiftly turning the corner, now faced with the back of the young maiden. "princess"
she stopped, body clearly tense, hands in tight fists next to her body. tenatively she turned around. he could now marvel at her beauty. truly marvel at her features. her face was flushed, red from embarassment, contrasting yet complimenting her mesmerising violet eyes and silver valyrian hair. she was truly, stunning, surely the most comely maiden he had lay eyes upon. "sir gwayne hightower, i do believe" she said, voice coming out close to a whisper, the nerves behind it unmasked to his ears.
"in the flesh..." he continued, eyes studying her form like a predator seizing up pray. "i do believe, you dropped this" he said, raising the hankerchief up to eye level. her hand moved slowly, twitching with nerves and ever so cautiously, to take it, but he pulled his hand back, tucking the piece of fabric in his pocket instead. "wh-why did you um.. i mean, what should you want with a silly hankerchief, ser ?" he gave her a smile mischievy lacing his expression, darkening his blue eyes.
"such an elusive lady you are, and such an intriguing one at that. i cannot give up the one thing tying us together, i should not like to see you run from me... again" she gave a breathy chuckle, uneasiness evident in both the sound and the way her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. "please, i do not wish to interrupt your studying, allow me keep you company" he extended his hand to hers again, she looked to it in fear, yet accepted it anyway. he raised it to his face, eyes never leaving hers, full of lust, and kissed it. her eyes were wide, violet brought out her embarasment, ckeeks somehow even more flushed. he tugged her forth, and moved to take her back to the settee. they walked and sat across eachother in silence.
he looked to the princess, who nervously sat and fiddled with her book, her eyes trained to it, trained to anywhere but him really, as if seeing him would lead to her doom. "what are you studying, my princess ?" she swallowed hard. "umm well, it is no interesting thing not really atleast-"
"anything that holds your attention is a worthwile read i would venture" she sucked in a hurried breath, her expression changing from complete fear, to fear still but now with a mix of excitement.
"oh, it is- it is written by a braavosi traveler, an account of his relationship with the lysenian lady allara"
"a love story then ?" he said, mischeivus smile returning, eyes reflecting a glint from the sun making her chest flush with emotion. "well, yes, a tragedy ore like to be honest "
"how so ?" "well thy were um seperated, by circumstances, you know as it happens usually,they were of different social standing and she was kept away most her life and h-had no real connection with the world so believed his promises of adventure to be void, eventually they were discovered but all was well in the end, as well as it could atleast and-"
she stopped speaking suddently, realising how she had rambled and looked up, meeting gwaynes eyes, excpecting to find disgust or boredom or even fury but none of that were present. he only looked to her in admiration, in intigue. still shame ran hot in her veins, the emotion almost tied to her name, "oh i- apologise, ser, i have incoherently rambled on" she apologised.
"no apology secessary my princess, i find your passion... quite amusing." she swallowed hard at his words, unacustomed to such attention, any attention from a stranger. "do you find yourself in the lady ?" continued gwayne.
"oh, well, i guess i do" she spoke in a single breath. "have you any romantic endeavors with braavosi travellers, my princess ? is this your confession ?" he teased. her eyes widened once again, shifting her position and shaking her head rapidly. "oh no, ofcourse not, how could i even find one such man in this castle"
he gave a saccharine smile, eating away at the princesses defences simultaniously firing up her shame. "do you feel deprived of adventure, then, as the princess in the story did ?" his hand on the table moved, slowly reaching hers. she failed to notice it, too focused on keeping her breathing elevated and not bursting in flame from shame. when his skin brushed against her knuckle she twitched, pulling her hand away, but it was too late. his hand moved swiftly, taking her delicate hand into his calous one, he could not help but notice just how smaller it was, his palm covering it in its entirety.
the contact sent waves of nerves through her body, but something about his warm toutch, something about his smooth movements, the way he caressed her knuckles along with his questions, the interest he showed to her oppinion, it stirred something in her. not just her chest, in her stomach... lower. the feeling was nice but its unfamiliarity alarmed her.
it was true, much like the lady in her book she had minimal contact with the outside world. most she had was the occasional trip on her dragon to her cousin laena and uncle daemon in pentos or the ones to dragonstone with her sister rhaenyra. if she was lucky and the queen was in good spirits, she would allow her to acompany her to the sept, where she caught shoert glimpses st the vibrant city of kings landing. but, as stated before, all of those were quite rare. most of the time she had to content herself with overhearing stories from viting lords, ever too shy to even approach them and ask questions.
"i should say... yes. i do not have many opportunities to exit the walls of the keep." he gave a hum, never taking his eyes off of hers. "should you like to ?"
she was still aprehensive of the man before her, but his words were so sweet. her head was a battlefield, shyness and intrigue kicking up a storm. "i should, yet i fail to see how it would be possible"
"perhaps...with the right company" he teased yet again. shyness, even caution of strangers failed to prevail in the face of promise of adventure. "do you fancy yourself the right company, ser gwayne ?"
he smiled, now genuine and true, showing his pearly teeth. "mayhaps we ought to find out, if you would have me" the air around them shifted, falling into a comfortable silence. they stared into eachothers eyes, blue into violet, sparks threatening to blaze into fire.
alas, their time had to come to an end. gwayne broke eye contact, looking to the window, the hour of his duty was drawing closse. he looked back to the princess, whose gaze had shifted to the book again. "earlier, in the courtyart, upon my arrival, i caught you looking at me"
she oppened her mouth to speak but no words came out, instead her lips formed a little 'o' shape, small breaths escaping. very kissable, he thought. "have i exposed your secret ? is secretly staring at people from a distance a habit of yours or something you reserved just for me ?" she did not move, neither did her mouth, a stone statue, the only semblance of life in her was the blush on her nose. he chuckled, what an intiguing girl he had infront of him. "tis alright, do not tell me, i should like to keep mine own belief, even in delusion"
he slowly rose from his seat, not removing his hand from hers but instead draging it along her arm, slowly, teasingly. through her palm, to her wrist, her sleeve, a snake of temptation, slithering and dragging ints sin, seeping into her skin in its wake. she tensed once again, the shocks from the contact causing her to revert to her demure demeanor. he positioned himself behind her, hand from her shoulder opting instead to play with her hair.
the way the silver of her locks caught the light of the afternoon sun left him mesmerised, the way her shoulders tensed and hunched forward, hurried trembling breaths audible to his ears even moreso. he leaned down, tucking her hair behind her ear and brought his lips to whisper "i shall see you soon, my princess. untill then, i have your little gift to keep me company"
his hot breath on her flesh sent shockwaves to her core, the promise of a randevouz exciting her so. what was this stranger doing to her ? she could not sit and enjoy the feeling of his body close to hers for long though, as he abruptly pulled back. leving the room, leaving her dumbfounded, sitting and staring still hot in her stomach.
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training with daeron proved more enjoyable than he had excpected. the boy was witty once he had shaken off his fear, gwayne found himself growing fonder of the boy by the minute. when he was pulled away by his mother to be put to bed, he descited to acompany them, telling himself it was to make his mission succeed, but deep down he knew he wished to spend some more time with his nephew. before he was put to bed for the night, the little prince gave him a big hug which warmed his heart.
time with his nephew was a welcome distraction but the moment the boys chamberdoors closed his mind flew elsewere. the night drew close, soon twilight would be succeded by the dark of night, with it, the fould city of kings landing would come alive in all its debauchery. he wondered if he could approach the princess, if he could help her get a taste of adventure she so desired. the more he thought of her wide eyes the more antsy he grew to see them again. she was all innocence, asking of him to whisk her away, to show her the truth of the world, to corrupt her. he loved and hated it. those were no thoughts of a knight nor of a hightower.
he was a good man, faithfull, devout, the image of chivalry, his name a shining example to every knight in all the reach. many a lady had tried to tempt him, young girls no doubt urged by their ambitious fathers to join the house hightower, others rebelling against the chains of their duty, but he had alwasy shot them down, he knew better. he had had his fair share of indulgences as well, brothels were a booming buisness, even in oldtown after all. but he had the reigns of his desire, never going over board, always in mind of his faith. but this girl... this girl was something. she was young, innocent and the way he had treated her, like a plaything, teasing her in the library, it surprised even himself. he thought back t the words whispered by the lords of the reach, targaryens are closer to gods than men, and found them to ring true. his actions today were not in line with his faith, it made his stomach twist in shame, but he knew, he knew, if the princess asked, he would worship at the altar of her beauty, the seven be damned.
he thought if only he could see her again, if only. the way she had spoken about her books, with such passion, such longing, he wished for nothing but to take her in his arms and show her the world. alas he had no way to approach her. the young maiden was kept under lock-and-key, if the king or worse the princess rhaenyra were to learn of an attempt to tempt her it would surely mean his beheading.
he walked along the halls of maegors holdfast, fully intending to simply get back to his rooms, satisfy his craving for the princess in private and try to approach her again, like a gentleman, in light of the new day. but as he walked, he passed a certain family members chambers, his eldest nephew aegons. he knew some of the princes endeavours, the queens letters oft complaining of her inability to exscersise control over the boy. from oldtown, he though his sister might be reacting dramatically to a simple exertion of youth, this mornings meeting whith aegon told him his sisters words spoke the truth.
gwayne truly meant not to encourage such foul behaviour but... if anyone knew how to slip through the walls of the keep unoticed, it had to be the prince.
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a knock sounded at the princesses chambers. given she had had no time to even remove her day clothes, she thought it to be her maids, arriving to prepare her for bed "come in"
the door opened, yet the face of the servant who stepped inside was unfamiliar to her. in his hands he held a silver tray, atop it a pece of paper along with a gray woolen fabric. the servaint said nothing, simply bringing the tray to her, and exiting with a bow.
curiosity killed the cat, she knew it well, the words of gwayne about her peering at him only this morning passing through her mind for a moment. but she was a curious alright, this occurance stirred up that emotion more than anything in her dull life had before. she took the letter upon her hands and oppened it.
to my silver haired cat, if the words you spoke to me ring true, take the path inscribed below at the hour of the eel, not a moment earlier not a moment later. make sure to wear my gift, it is not much but will prove usefull on our adventure. if not, i shall hold onto your hankerchief untill you change your mind. - ser gwayne
she began to kich her feet back and forth, mouth curling into a smile. he was asking a lot of her,sneaking out of the keep and he was, after all, a stranger. he was a man with no obligation to keep her safe, a man she knew naught about, except for the fact he found her intriguing. he found her interesting, he enjoyed her passion for adventure and was holding in his hand all she dreamed of, promising to grant it to her if only she should trust him. he would wait for her, today, tomorrow, so long as it took for her to be ready. how could she not answer his call ?
she swallowed down her nerves, doing her best to not let them trump her need for adventure. she took the cloak in her hands, it was large, large enough to hide her form and silver hair. the hour of the eel drew close, she had to make a descision. she looked to the paper again, a map was inscribled below gwaynes words. it was simple enough to follow, the opportunity was far too precious and too rare to pass up.
this morning she was a shy maiden, apprehensive and petrified at any sight of a stranger, closed off from the world. now, as she placed the cloak atop her shoulders, she remained a terrified maiden but who descited bravely, to open her heart to and interesting man, and seize the opportunity to realise her dream.
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the air was cold as it hit gwaynes face, he was waiting at the back exit of the castle, a small arched door, hidden behind foliage and trees, known to lucky few. aegon had given him perfect instructions and a promise of mutual silence to eachothers endeavors. many of maegors passageways lead to the door, luckyly one such had acces to the princesses balcony, a stroke of luck or perhaps, a blessing from the gods.
he awaited the princesses arrival, the distance had lead him to grow impatient. he kept her hankerchief in his hand, playing around with the fabric, tracing her excellently embroidered monogram, hoping, wishing the anxiety in his guts, the guilt of his actions would be smoother over by her. despite the words of the letter, he knew, he would wait for her untill the hour of the wolf if that was what it took. he would wait for her as long as it took.
procuring commoner clothes for both himself and the princess was as humiliating as it was difficult. his skin protested the cheap fabric and his senses the design but it would do for now. he could not simply parade around flea botttom clad in armour after all.
he stood in wait and the more he waited the more anxious he grew. no, no he was not anxious, it was something else, something sinister. he was hungry. he was hungry to see the young princess, to show her what the real world entailed. gods, he could not wait to see her violet eyes fill with graditude upon him fullfiling her desires. it almost made him grow hard in his pants.
as he looked to the moon, mind wondering, he heard someone approach from behind. he turned his head around to be met with the sight he so longed to see. the princess emerged from behind the greenery, his gift draped around her shoulders, but the hood was down, leaving her locks, now in a simpler braided fashion, to catch the moonlight, giving their pretty color an even more exotic appearance. despite the poor appearance of the cloak drawing a sharp contrast to her well groomed royal face and hair, her beauty remained unchanged.
his eyes draged up and down her body, drinking in her appearance, his thoughts of longing turning now more primal. she shifted in her feet, ever so shy, ever so cute. "you came"
"you asked" she replied, eyes on the ground, feet kicking the grovel beneath her soles. "i am glad you did" he continued, taking a step to her, drinking in her ethereal appearance like a man starved. "even commoner clothes cannot stain your beauty, my princess" his hands made their way upward, taking the hood and raising it atop her crown, hiding her silver locks, much to his disapointment. her head remained low, eyes hiding from his. he took her chin with his fingers, and raise it to look her in the eyes. she was trembling like a leaf, despite her fear, her gaze remained firmly onto his, she wanted to trust him, it was her nature which kept her from doing so. he would give his soul to break down her inhibitions.
"do not take the hood off, ever. we do not want reports of a princess sighting in the city to reach the keep now, do we ?" he whispered. she gave a small shake of her head, untrusting of her voice, afraid it would betray her fear. "good" he chuckled, grabing her hand and turning around, guiding her to follow him.
"adventure awaits" if he had turned around he would see the smile atop her lips.
the arched door opened to reveal a grovel path, around the outer walls of the keep. on one side the imposing castle walls kept her trapped outside, on the other rough rock cliffs lead to wild waves below. talk about being between a rock and a hard place. the prospect of her eminent death by drowning petrified her, fear lacing her feet, draging her back, firmly rooting in the ground almost forcing her to yield and freeze in place. but gwaynes reassuring hold on her hand did not let her fall. neither to the pits of fear or to her doom. he took cautious but determined steps, her own feet automatically copying them, quickly leading her around the scary path and onto a road in the outskirts of the city. an real road, paved with more than gravel, set with actual stone. a heavy breath escaped her nose, fear melting now into the steady ground bellow, releasing her from its shackles.
gwayne looked back at her and brought his hand forward, draging her along with it. he recognised the relief painted on her features, glad to see her calmed down. "that was the most difficult part, it is much smoother sailing from now on. come, we have much to see."
he walked with her along the streets, the closer they got to rhaenys hill, the busier the streets got. she marveled at all the sorts of different people in a messy harmony. merchants and bakers and men of all trades walked along the paths, some of them held in their hands leftover product from the day, selling it now at a downmark. other men were dressed in rich clothes, graced with gold and silver jewlery with women of the night flocking around them, figures doused in shadows stalking further back, no doubt awaiting a chance to strike and rob them.
occasionally she could spot gold cloaks on their patrols, but gwayne ensured she was not spotted by any of them. his hand never once left hers. his eyes caught glipses of her face, hidden by the hood, the amazement in her eyes swelled his heart with pride and pants with heat. they walked in silence, enjoying the hustle and bustle of the city. by now they were well on their way to the street of the sister.
in front of him, he spotted a baker, selling several pastries and breads at half price. he approached the man, dragging the young princess with him. she was far too preoccupied staring, gawking moreso, at a band of young men engaged in some sort of game, running up and down the street.
he removed his hand from hers to reach his coin purse. the loss of contact broke her trance, with no warning, she was brought back to reality. to the scary reality. she had lost in a split second her pillar of support, now extremely aware of the world around her. dogs were heard barking viciously in the distance, heavy yelling voices once drowned in the melody of the city now came to the forefront scaring her to her core. the young mens game she had admired a moment past was not but a scary unpredictability, their sudden movements threatening in her head to harm her, gwayne quickly paid the man in exchange of some tart but when he turned around to look at the princess, he realised his mistake.
she looked to him petrified, chest heaving with heavy breaths, hand frozen in place where he had left it, the other on her chest, attempting to regulate her braths. his hand flew to hold her, instead of taking her hand, he took her waist, pressing her body onto his in reasuurance. eyes searched her face, needing to take caution of any change in demeanor. "hey, hey darling, nothing happened, nothing will happen. tis alright i got you"
her breaths still came to her in heavy inhales. the urge to vomit started building up in the bottom of her stomach, vision drawing hazy. gwaynes toutch on her waist was a source of comfort. the support from her knight returned, now in a new form, he was toutching her suggestively, in public no less but without shame, she had half a mind to quit her fainting of fear and swoon from the contact. yet his toutch was anything but unwelcome, anything but a scandal, it was of true chivalry, the hand on her waist along with his sweet words pulling her from the fit of agoraphobia that overtook her.
slowly but surely she regained her composure, focusing on gwayne and gwayne alone instead of the heaps of people circling them. her breaths calmed, coming in rythm of his composed ones. her eyes evidently relaxed, her hyper focused gaze yielding to a relaxed one, searching around his clothing. he smiled "there she is. you scared me half to death my dear" he looked around, searching for a safe place to take her, help her regain her strength.
it just so happened the closest to them establishment, was one of the most famed brothels of the street of silk. oh well, what can you do, he thought. "can you walk, my dear ?" he spoke in a whisper. she gave him a weak nod, and attempted to free herself, to walk independently of his support but failed, slightly stumbling backwards, straight into his arms.
"here, eat this, gain some strength" she pursed her mouth in a tight line and shook her head no. he sighed, the princesses silly attempt a testament to her naivety. "yes, come on, it is for your own good. and do not attempt to stray from me. you are a princess and in need of my aid my dear, it is no shameful thing"
finally she complied, puting it away in one go, some color returning to her face. gwayne sighed once again, this time in relief, his grip on her waist became posssesive for a moment, caging her in, and then, with no warning, he placed a kiss atop her forehead. "come, let us get you comfortable"
she had no time to process such an intimate action as she was taken, gently, along the road, tracing a path to a large purple door. she took note of the dim lanterns encased in shades of pinks and purples, along with the decorum above the door and attempted to deduce what the building was for, a sort of arthouse, a gallery ? it was clearly a sensual place, perhaps a patron of the arts from the free cities, much like the ones who visited the palace, took it up as a project.
gwayne knocked on the door, a woman oppened, clad in a sheer pink fabric, sintched at the waist and embelished with a beaded belt. she could see.... everything, the cut of the dress left little to the imagination, the fabric revealing the rest.
the princess attempted to take a step back, blocked by her protectors hand on her waist. this was not a place of the arts... it was a brothel. her breath hitched at her throat, chest filling with shame. she knew little of how the marital act was done, only aware of bits and piesces accidentally sliped out from rhaenyra. she had attempted to get her hands on books which included details of such an act, only to find out the queen had banned all such books from being kept at the keep. to say she was curious was an understatement. yet despite her need for answers, she did not fancy herself capable of handling such an adventure today. alas she had no other option.
the woman seized up gwayne, clearly noting his pouch heavy with coin, smirking when she took note of his handsome face. then... her gaze fell on her. the whores expression soured, with something the princess could not quite understand. white hot shame overtook her body, one free hand flying to her cloak, puuling down the hood to conceal her face. she had hoped the rest of the workers looks did not leave her so ashamed should they step inside.
the woman did not speak, she only looked to gwaynes eyes again, and stepped inside, urging them in. gwaye gave her a slight nudge, ushering her inside all the same.
immedietly upon entring she was hit with the smell of sweat and exotic spice. another woman, older in age than the one at the entrance and clad in more apropriate clothing, approached gwayne, exchanging words she paid no mind to. women and men lounged all around, in various states of undress, in various poses and on differing furniture. there were women with flagons of wine, filling, overfilling every cup with ruby wine.
gwayne pulled her forward, following the older woman, deeper inside the establishment. the further they venture the more debauched and lewd the acts became. she caught glimpses of it, women lying on to of men, repeating a furious up and down motion, some women were on all fours patrons of the establishment positioned behind them. in one room she even caught a glimpse of two women kissing for the viewing pleasure of a man.
the sights left her speechless, shame spreading through her limbs like an explosion but it also sent a wave of uneasiness between her legs. she attempted to drink in the details of the scenes infront of her, but was unable as gwayne dragged her huriedly along. soon they reached yet another door. gwayne handed some coins to the woman, who smiled slyly and disappeared behind a myrish screen. gwayne oppened the door and all but threw her inside.
she stumbled across the stone floors as he closed the door behind them, the room was... something. nice was no word to describe it, far below the standard she had known. the floor was of pure stone, with soft fur carpeting under the bed and bear the hearth, she did not need to wonder what that was for. in the middle of the room stood a large bed, adorned with an assortment of fabrics and furs and pillows. behind it, on the wall hung a tapestry. she began to study it, the scene quite the scandal, two women with bodies intertwined and kissing, another fantasy of the patrons it must be.
gwayne took note of the silence and her wondering eyes, a smirk growing on his face. "not up to standard ?"
"no... i guess, i dont- wh-why did.... why did you bring me here ?"
his smile persevered, stepping closer to her. "oh, do not be scandalised my darling, i only wanted you to be in... a safe enviroment. here we can be away from prying eyes, and the noise of the people, a while, atleast. i believed you to need it"
"well, i-i guess, i- it was awfully crowded wasnt it ?" he exhaled through his nose, his hand flying to place a strand of hair behind her ear. her eyes trembled, focusing on anything, any other thing but his face. "it was, sweet girl" he moved his hands, undoing the pin that held her cloak together. the fabric falling from her shoulders, he took it in his arms and threw it to the side. he could now admire her gown in its entirety.
it was blue in color, deep like the sea, with the symbol of her house embroidered in black thread on her bodice. the cut of the dress was of much interest to him, it was embelished in intricate white lace and in the shape of a 'v' dipping bellow her colarbone, exposing her breasts. her neck was bare of any jewlery, having ommited it in preparation of the trip in the city. her hair was held back, in a braided crown but some strands still fell loose around her shoulders and colarbone. her hair were his favourite feature of hers, their color their silky feel when he ran he hands through them.. he could only imagine what it was like to tug on them.
but he could wait for that. he pulled his hand away and sat at the pillows sprawled around the hearth, placing her cloak to the side, focusing his motions instead to invite the princess to sit next to him. she took the invite, slowly plopping herself, not next to him but across. ouch, he had thought she was more comfortable with him by now, no matter, he simply had to try more. she placed her knees in frot of her and hugged them in a protective matter, her head placed atop.
" are you feeling better ?" he said, readjusting his possition to lie down further. "yes much better, uh thank you ser" "please, we are far past pleasantries my dear. i whisked you away from home and all but carried you in my arms, call me by my name"
"okay, gwayne... ser." gwayne began to laugh, hand over his heart, eyes closing from the wideness of his smile. his whole body rattled with laughter, it was the most genuine the princess had seen him. heat rose up to her cheeks from her mistake, head falling to hide her face betwix her knees. gwayne, among his fit, took notice of the princesses new position, his heart swelling with warmth at the girls shame. what good does shame do to a goddess on earth ?
"oh, my darling, do not fret, i find your attitude... endearing. you will come around to me, eventually i know it." her eyes peeked out from her knees, shining with the firelight, brows raised as if begging for his words to be true. before he could speak to ressure her, a knock sounded at the door. her brows twisted, sending gwayne a quizical look.
"enter" he shouted. and thus the door oppened, a worker stepped inside, carrying in her hands a tray of two cups and a flagon. she was dressed qeerly, moreso than the girl at the door, a dress held at her hips by a metal belt, the top of it all but fallen off, exposing the entirety of her chest deep down into her navel dark skin glistening in the light, around her waist a series of strung together beads. her hair was loose, fashioned in tiny braids, much unlike her own, and cascading down her back, jet black in color, almost that of the night sky. she was truly beautifull, she thought.
her eyes were full of curiosity and completely trained on the woman. she walked inside the rooms to where they were seated, placing the tray between them. her movements were deliberate, sensual in nature, practiced. she made an effort as she lowered herself, to show off her breasts to gwayne. he smiled at the woman briefly but his eyes did not waver with her little show off. the woman, finally, turned to look at the priness, noticing her amazed, innocent gaze and sent her a wink. the princess went red at the face, hiding once again.
gwayne chuckled for yet another time, this was the most entertainment he had had in a while. he took the flagon and poured them both a cup. "you do know... drinking from such a position will prove difficult, though i would be lying if i said i was not curious to see it..."
she chuckled lightly, the sound rattling her shoulders, and let her legs fall down. they fell in front of her, outstretched, her back still somewhat hunched, hands playing with the carpeting. she looked like a doll, ready to be takena and played with, gwayne thought. he had to stop he knew it well, a princess of the realm was no doll, no thing for him to gaze upon so lustfully, but he could not help himself. "y-yeah i quess" she lifted her head and gave him a small glance, smiling as she did so, and took her respective cup. she sipped at the wine cautiously, small little gulps going down her throat.
yet another movement of hers he found utterly endearing. he took his own cup downing half of it in one go "go ahead, drink, it will do you good" he urged. she heeded his instruction, finishing her entire cup in one go. unused to drinking, especially at such a fast pace and on an empty stoamach, she began to feel the wine hit her head with a small wave, it was strong, nothing like that of the palace. gwayne laughed and poured her another cup. "well, you seem to surprise me at every turn, like a cat. a very tempestious cat"
"i- im sorry" "why now are you apologising sweet girl ?" she gave him a smile, looking to his eyes now, nerves steeled by the alcohol. she took her cup again and began to drink. slowly this time. "well i, i- dont know... maybe i did something wrong or.. or you, you feel i am odd or you know-"
"i find your oddness fascinating, if it please" she gave him a full smile, teeth showing and all. they remained that way a while, their silence leaving the room barren, penetrable by the outside sounds. all sorts of moans and grunts, in all levels of theatrics. they sat and listened a while untill a chortle ran through the princesses body at a particularly high pitched sound. she looked to gwayne with wide eyes, afraid she had done a wrong thing again. but gwayne did not seem repulsed by her in the slightest only replying with a chuckle of his own. soon, the room errupted into laughter, a melody of joy, strange innocence filling the room created to facilitate debauchery.
among their laughs, the princess afflicted clearly by the wine managed to chocke out "wh- what could posses one to create such a sound ?"
gwayne among his own laughter, took pause, still smiling but now his eyes shined with something else, something dark. even the pure crystal of their color could not absolve them of such sinister look. gwayne felt his insides stir with lust, he was leading the princess down a road he knew he should not. he had taken her from her home, showed her the crazed streets of the city, caused her to almost faint and now had lead her into the last place she ought to be in.
but then again, she was no child, she was a young woman, she would have to learn of these things soon... all he was doing really was teatching her, yes, that was it. he did no wrong, he had not toutched her, not forced upon her anything, he was simply exposing her to a different world, he was fulfilling her dream, he was no bad influence, he was a teatcher he rationalized. "well, they are paid to act as if they enjoy it..."
she chocked on her drink, some of it dripping down her chin, even to her colarbone and chest. gwayne looked at the sight, and if she had been able to look at him, she would note of the lust gracing his features. she attempted to clean herself, but only managing to soil her sleeve. understanding the uneasiness of the moment between them she felt needed to do something to remedy it "w-well, i would not know"
she looked down to the floor, body frozen, afraid of what gwaynes response would be. it was, after all, improper conversation. "i did not expect you to, my dear. the ladies of the realm are left with no education on such matters, left to believe the act to be but the prerequisite of creating offspring"
she raised her head, alcohol coursing through her veins washing away the bashfullness of her personality, "but it can be good, no ?" it was gwaynes turn to be shocked, to chocke over his own spit. he cleared his throat and swallowed hard, as if that would aleviate the guilt he felt. he was corrupting her... the evidence began to show, this new side of the princess something most definetly brought about by his and their adventures. but then again, she had a right to know. she had a right to know what the marrital act entailed, she would be married soon enough. he could feel the image of the mother chastising him, his faith a forever alarm in the back of his head, an unnerving lighthouse in the sea of his mind.
but the light grew dimmer and dimmer, replaced by the rose colored visage of the princess, her violet eyes looking to his for answers, her knight, her companion, her teatcher. how could he dissapoint. "well... yes, ofcourse it can. there are many aspects to carnal pleasure, many of the in servitude to women, though they are neglected in the royal beds. women can draw as much pleasure as the man"
his hand went to her extended leg, brushing his thumb along her ankle. what washe doing ? he should get out of there, take her in his arms and take her where nothing could taint her. his heart wished to protect her virtue, but a larger part, a truer part perhaps, longed to be the one to soil her so. "i should like to know" she spoke. gwaynes hand on her ankle tensed, squeezing her extremity slightly. there was no place for the seven in a place like this, this was a house of sin. but knoledge, is ever present, even in the darkest of acts, even in war and death there is something to be learned. this was but another part of life she ought to lear, he justified to himself.
he sent her a look, another squeeze to her ankle, a quizical one this time, asking "are you sure ?". she nodded.
gwayne had half a mind to take her in his arms and show her firsthand all she needed to learn. but he held back, raising himself to stand instead. he extended his hand in front of her face, asking her to take it, though he knew already she would. she looked up at him, innocent eyes through lashes, if only she knew the effect she had on him, and accepted the invitation. he pulled her from her position, a laugh escaping her, only to bring her flush against his front and urge her forth.
they exited the room and began to wonder the hallways, hands entwined, giggling. they must have looked like children frolicking through fields, a vision opposite to their enviroment. sounds of coupling echoed through the walls of the establishment, they passed through several doors and rooms, gwayne looking briefly inside of every single one, browsing. eventually they stopped, having reached a certain chamber, quite unlike the rest. the door was wise open leaving the inside available to spectators, they were much richer in furnishings than the chambers they had resided in, clearly, the client was of exceptional wealth.
"here, take a look" whispered gwayne, bringing her forward to look at the couple, pressing himself to her back all the same.
the scene was... debauching, bewitching, scandalising. in the middle of the room lay a circular bed, on top of it a couple, a man surprisingly young for a client here, and a woman equally as beautifull. the man sat in the middle of it, she on top of him. her hips moved in sensual motions, practiced by the years of her work, each movement of hers must have worked wonders for they elicited loud moans and grunts from the man, the melodious sound mixing with mewls of her own and the sounds of their hips.
the princess was enamoured by the sight infront of her. she felt an ache to her stomach, throbing in her insides, unfamiliar feeling with an unknown solution. she was mesmerised both by her bodys reaction and the scene in front of her, so much so she failed to take notice of gwayne behind her, pulling her in his embrace like a serpent, slithering hands around her waist, head going to whisper in her ear. "enjoying the lesson ?"
feeling his breath, his sweet words in her ear, it startled her, body working on its own, attempting to escape the knights trap. but his hold on her did not relent, his arms working on their own, trapping her further in his hold. "are you uncomfortable ? or simply shy ?". his hand on her stomach began to move, feathelight, back and forth, up and down, sending shocks of pleasure through her body.
"you see my dear, it is not so bad... it is not bad at all. everything is part of human nature, so is this even if the gods deem it private. you neednt feel uncomfortable.." his hand moved further up, possesed, on its own accord, before either of them could realis ewhat they were doing, she felt his hand onto her breast. the tension in her body could take no longer, mouth releasing a loud yelp. the sound came quite louder than she had excpected, grabbing the attention of some of the ladies and patrons near them. immedietly, whispers could be heard, even above the lustfull sound of the brothel, "is that a princess ?" one such whisper reached the ears of gwayne. immedietly he pulled the girl along, before she had time to question him.they began running through the brothel, back to their room.
once again gwayne threw her inside with haste, this time, the ferocity with which his movements guded her, lead the princess to loose her footing and almost land bottom-first onto the floor. almost. she felt strong hands around her waist. once again, gwayne her knight had come to her rescue, the gesture filled her heart to the brim with affection. as his clear blue eyes gazed upon hers with concern, she looked to their vastness, the world stopping for a moment, for that moment, gwayne was her everything and she was his.
it was no time for such emotions however, they both knew, carefull adn a bit akward, she gained her footing, gwaynes hands leaving her, his own body moving to grab her previously discarded cloak from the floor. he took it and placed it on her shoulders, the motion so tender it was more reminiscent of a wedding ceremony.
she would be the death of him gwayne thought, no god could wash away the sins he had commited to her virtue that night, despite it all he knew he would not repent, she would be the death of him, he thought. she his death and his own desire his damnation. "we must make haste if we wish to go unnoticed" gwayne spoke in concern but only playfulness comuted to the young girls mind.
he took her arm, carefull this time to be gentle, and began to once again navigate her through the brothel. whores and patrons alike noticed the swiftness with which they exited but, far too preocupied with catching a glimpse of the targaryen princess in their midsts, paid no mind. they exited the brothel onto the streets once again. gwayne paved a path for them, different from the last one. this time they took the narrow strainous path of the hook.
the princess grew tired of the fast pace but time left little window for rest. noticing her reluctance, gwayne wasted no time, taking her in his arms, like abride on her way to the bedding ceremony, to carry the rest of the way.
there, in the arms of gwayne hightower, she felt a strange peace. she gazed upon the streets of the city, aware it might well be the vary last time she could so freely traverse them. yet, she found herself unable to focus on the experience, the arms around her so sturdy, a worthy distraction. the audible heartbeat of her knight only the crowning jewel of the experience.
eventually, they reached the tall walls surrounding the red keep, at a blindspot to the guard. much to her dismay, gwayne put her down, holding her waist untill she stabilised.
"there is another hidden door here, leading to the kitchens. it is a forgotten servants passage. i believe you can take yourself to your rooms from there ?" she nodded. "good. i shall take a different path, lower the risk of being noticed, nothing to concern yourself with"
she was not ready for their time together to be ended. she longed to spend more time with gwayne, his name to her synonymous with fun. his eyes looked down to hers, locked in time, both of them unknowing what the correct words to say were. the longer he stared at her the more her body filled with heat, the blue of his eyes, the various memories of his hands on her filling her core with that same sensation the show at the brothel brought about. only this time... it was far more intesnse.
she opened her mouth to speak only to be cut off, not by words of his own, but his movement, hand flying to her face, sowly dropping the hood of her cloak so he may marvel at the moonlight in her hair one last time. confident now, his hand found purchase on her ckeeck.
if she was not hot from the strange feeling in her core, his toutch would surely burn her. "my stay at the city will not be long... i only hope to have fulfilled your hearts desire. i know you have gifted me with a night i will tresure forever. are you satisfyed, my darling ?" his thumb dug slightly into her cheek to emphasise his words. she nodded. "use your words my darling, do not withhold your beautifull voice from me"
"yes" she said, voice dripping with desperation. he smiled and removed his hand from her cheek. the loss of heat threatened to send a frown to her face. but she had to brave, for gwayne. instead, his hand reached into his pocket, pulling out nothing else but her hankerchief. "i do believe this is yours"
she looked to the piece of fabric, and considered for a second. "keep it" she said. gwaynes eyebrows shot up in surpruse, his mouth a playfull smile. "i shall treasure it for the rest of my days, my princess"
she felt a strange pull to gwayne, something in her mind, no, not her mind, this was no logical or sensical thought, the heart surely had juristiction over it, or rather, the feeling in her stomach, it told her to kiss him. to give herself to him fully, to repeat the things she had learned in the brothel.
before her body could give in though, footsteps were heard, no wonder the keeps guard. gwayne said nothing, only hurrying her inside the hidden brick door and diapearing. she stood there, in the dark of the basement and stared at the closed door. even when outside the footsteps came to pass, she made no movement. there were things unsaid, things yet to be done between her and gwaye. but they had to remain uncovered, she knew, in her mind the same as her heart.
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gwayne tried to sleep. gods he so wanted to sleep. maybe in the unknown land of darkness he would find the one who he so longed to see, maybe then he would be able to do the things he wanted, to say what he thought, bare of shame and guilt. he reached to his 'commoner' pants, the ones he wore on their excursion, shuffling around the fabric, to pull out what he wanted. the princesses hancerchief, the one she had so graciously gifted him. it still held some of her scent.
it was to be a long night and the painfull erection in his undergarments tastament to just that. if he was to get through it he needed a distraction...
the morning light filtered through his window, disturbing his sleep which had not come easy, orgasming into the night untill he knocked himself out from exhaustion. he could still feel the soreness in his legs. one day at kings landing and already he had turned to a sinner. but it was not kings landing at fault, it was the princess.
he slowly rose, placing feet on cold hard ground. the itinary of today dictated breaking fast with his sister and her family, attending to some buisness at court his father insisted upon, training with daeron yet again and in the afternoon, more politics with his father and the king. no time was allocated to himself, no time to maybe try and seek out the princess. there was a small chance of her presance at either the breakfast, or sneaking around in the yard, the sole thing keeping him motivated.
and yet he went on and on with his day with no appearance from her. no lithe form sneaking around walls and bushes to catch a glimpse of, no presance at breaking fast, nothing. he settled back into his rooms defeated. he had gone thought the motions of his nightly routine as if possesed. and when he finally settled into his bed, he felt a pang of rejection. he sat and shimered in the feeling, second guessing his actions of the night before, replaying all the things he could have done differently. when-
his door sounded open and closed, the creaking of the wood at the hinges unmistakable to be anything else. he got up suddently, affraid of there being some threat to his person he had to face. he turned his head around, excpecting the worst, only to see the face he had been excpecting all day.
the princess stood there, clad in only a white nightgown, hair loose and tussling though her shoulders all the way down her back, in her hands a small candle, casting shadows on her face rendering her excpression unreadable.
gwayne knew not whst to say, the gods delivered to him the gratest gift of all. she was here, with him, out of her own volition, he almost could not handle it. he had to take this in stride, one wrong move could send her bolting. and thus he sat there, ever still, trying to hold back his urge to lunge at her and the annoying presence between his legs.
even whith the minimal light, he could see the way her chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. "i-" she began, the rest of the words melting from her tongue. gwayne chuckled, ever amused by the princesses demeanor. "my princess do yo-"
"shut up" she cut him off. gwaybe would be shocked if he was not so amused. the princesses hand fidled with the fabric of her gown, a beat passed adn she stepped forward, steps full of nervous determination. she walked all the way to his side on the bed.
now he could see her clearly, the red of her cheeks, the purse of her mouth, the pink details of her dress so delicately wrapping her form. he still held back, fighting to not reach his hands and toutch her, make sure she was real and not a manifestation of his deepest desires. cautiously, slowly, she placed her candle atop the nightstand. "i wanted to... um... i wh-"
his hand acted on instinct, finding her hip. she looked down on his hand, exhaling. "can i- i- i should sit down right, yes" and she did just that. he repositioned himself to give her space, hand on her hip subtly guiding her movements. "i wanted to... see you i... mised you"
his hand began to move up and down on her body, making her grow tesnser. "i missed you too. never did i think i would, want lingering eyes from the shadows" "well um.. yes, i meant maybe... in a different way"
gwaynes eyes gleamed with hope, dangerous waters the princess was treading but who was he to say no ? "what is it, sweet girl ? you can tell me"
"i have this... feeling in... my stomach i just, i want... you, i just, i cant describe it" gwayne took no time to move, placing both his hands on her hips, knowing where this conversation was going, savouring the princess basically serving herself to him on a golden platter. "do you want to toutch me sweet girl ? is that it ?"
"yes. i want... i dont know, ive been thinking... you know about umm... about the things... we saw, at the brothel" his hand moved, from her thigh to her hand, she did not pull back, allowing him instead to take it, playing with her fingers, calous skin on soft one. "what have you been thinking about ?" "i... thought about... y-you and and me in... their place"
gwayne could feel his cock almost throbing in pain. she would be the death of him. his hand on hers moved, on her back, bringing her closer to him. she grew tense, her free hand still fidling with her skirts. his other hand moved to her face, cupping her cheeck, raising her head to look at him. her eyes looking up at him, her form couped up under him, he swore he was in the heavens.
still, he could gauge the princesses nerves, tense body and trembling hands, and as much amusement as he found in this little game, she remained a flight risk as well as a fainting risk, if he were to take her right away, surely she would vanish. and so, he remained quiet, unlt silently reassuring the princess with his thumb on her face. "i just umm... theres this feeling in my stomach and... it makes me want to do these, things, i- i have been thinking about this, been fantascising"
his hand on her face left, slowly dragging downwards, onto her stomach, just a little bit above her core. "this feeling, here, is it?"
she nodded furiously. she did not know what was happening to her, to her body, she only knew gwayne was causing it and soely he could fix it. gwayne her knight, her confidante, her cause and key. "show me then, sweet girl, how would you do it ?"
her head craned to look at him, confusion lacing her features, mouth open, ready to speak. he stopped her with a kiss. he kissed her, finally. all he had hoped ofr, wanted, longed to do these past couple of days, realised with such a simple movement. to his surpsride and delight she did not pull back, not only, she pressed herself further into him, her hands on his thighs, finding purchase not of nervousness but need. she needed him, she needed the support of her knight.
the princess felt as though she would implode if he did not toutch her, damned shame preventing her from unashamedly speaking her mind. times like these she wished to be like her sister, take what she wanted with no concern of consequences. just as she thought she could take no more, he kissed her. his lips were soft, so soft, a perfect contrast to the rough hands on her back and stomach. her head filled with desire, with need, she belived she would faint again, faint if he would be taken from her. her need gave no space for shame anymore, the longer his lips remained on hers the more shame drained from her body, leaving her only in desperation. he hands flew to his thighs a silent prayer for more.
he pulled away, much to her dismay. his body twisted, reaching the empty space on the other side of the bed, bringing to her a pillow. he knew he could not grant her what she sought, gods forgive, he had done damage enough, soiling the mind of such an innocent creature but he could not dissapoint her either. his mind spoke of guilt but his heart knew, this was but a carnal expression of his devotion, how could such a thing be sinfull ?
he could have his cake and eat it too, please the princess and protect the sambles of purity she still had. it was his duty, as her teatcher and knight, to guide her through the worlds of both duty and adventure. "do you ever... pleasure yourslef, princess ?" she shook her head no. "tis alright, cmon i shall show you" he placed the pillow in her lap.
confusion was not a strong enough word to describe the princessed feeling to gwaynes actions. still, she trusted him with her life, he had proven his devotion, truly, all he needed do is ask and she would jump into the depths of the sea for him. the hand on her back guided her forward, urged het to... sit on the pillow in her lap. ever so trusting, she followed his guidance. slowly, cautiously but unashamedly, she stradled the pillow. the new position reminiscent of the one the worker had on the brothel, now she understood.
"y-you want me to.. do onto the pillow, as i would onto you ?" gwayne smiled, "yes, sweet girl.i want you to use the pillow to take your pleasure, to be selfish. can you do that, for me ?" she nodded. her hands moved from gwaynes thighs to grip the pillow. the shame she had felt earlier but a faint memory, the only thing she could think of was pleasing him. she began to roch her hips, back and forth.
her core was bare on the fabric, leading her to feel every sensation, every rub, everything. she could feel tension on her insides, moving her hips back, pearl bare on the fabric, a completely new sensation. she did not know what exactly was happening, she knew not why this particular spot on her core sent shocks through her body, she only knew it aided in alevieting the tension to her stomach. she pushed her body harder onto the pillow, chasing her pleasure.
she became so consumed with discovering her own body, she neglected to notice gwaynes motions. she craned her head to the side to look at him, to find the reassurance, the praise she needed. she looked to the side and found gwayne, with his cock free, one of his hands caressing up and down, in tandem with the movements of her hips. she gasped at the sight.
gwayne looked at her, alerted by the sinful sound. the princess had shifted her position, hands to the back of the pillow, holding it in place to match her thrusts. her face was twisted in pure acstasy, head fallen back, hair tusslibg down her back, exposing her neck. gwaynes free hand flew to her face once again, pulling it onot his, kissing her.
this time it was different. their previous kiss was sweet, chaste and very brief. it was but a way for him to shut her up after all. this time it was opposite, his lips attacked hers, passion and need pouring from every one of his movements. a particularly pleasurable drag of her hips sent a gasp to her mouth, an opportunity for gwayne to intrude her mouth with his tongue.
the more they kissed the more debauched she became, the previous tension in her stomach replaced with a new one, a ball of pressure building in her loins with every movement. the more they kissed the more she understood what to do with her mouth, tongue mimicking the motions of gwayne, leading him to leave a low groan. he pulled away whispering "you will be the death of me".
by now the tension was almost unbearable, her thighs began to shake involuntarily, it was strange, far too strange and far too much, but she wanted not to disapoint "gwayne i-"
"shhh, i know sweet girl, its ok, keep going" and she did just that. her movements got sloppier, thighs by this point tired, exhaustion fighting a battle with her need to please. she let out a particularly pathetic mewl "gwayne, gwayne please, what"
"i know, i know. let go, its ok.." he replied, placing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, sweet and chaste, the antithesis of what his words had urged. the princess heeded his instruction, letting go. a sweet sensation took over her body, pleasure errupting in her stomach, through her veins, consuming every single of her limbs. she could hardly control her bdoy, movements halting, brows knitting together, moans escaping her mouth freely, almost as loud as the ones in the brothel.
gwaynes mouth found hers once again, mufflig her moans somewhat. his hand abandoned his cock, im favour of taking the princess in his arms. she was trmbling slightly still, the moment she felt his skin on hers crubling in his embrace. with care, he repositioned her to lay down on the bed, now so pliable in his hands, the nervous jittering girls present just minutes ago gone. he himslef moved, laying on top of her, staring at her face.
he could writte ballads to her beauty, entire novels to the way her forhead creased. her hair tussled around her head like a halo, white reflecting the light of the moon through the window and the candle of the bedstand in a dance of shadow and shimmer. his hands moved to her hair, playing with it, tangling in the waves of silver. slowly, so slowly, he dragged then down, brushing hair them from her exposed collarbone, lowering to her breasts, cupping them, sending a jolt through the princesses body and a whine through her mouth.
"you did such a good job my sweet." he continued, lowering his face to press featherlight kissed to her neck "there is so much i could show you... so much more i could teatch you." his words were sealed with a squeeze of her breasts eliciting yet another moan from the princess. "alas... i cannot, you know we cannot"
"but why ?" her questin came as a desperate whine. gwayne bfelt a pang of guilt in his chest, he had oppened a box of doom, one he could not seal. his desire ran a hot stream though his veing urging him to abandon his gods and worship her in their stead. but his divine calling, be it the princess or the seven, was to exist in tandem with the laws of men, and they allowed no such behaviours.
he took her legs, manhandling them across his lap, her body worming its was to his embrace. one hand rubbing smooth circles on her ankles, the other took her head, hiding it in the crook of his neck. he shushed her little whines, holding back with every morcel of his sanity. " i know sweet girl... but it would not be right to do what you ask of me. i cannot make speeches of duty, the gods only know i abandoned such a notion the second i lay my eyes upon you. you have come and turned all i knew upside down. i have not done right by you, not in the eyes of the law, not in the eyes of the seven. but, we ,ay yet salvadge our situation, yes ?"
her head made a move to look at him, perhaps to speak her mind but he prevented that, hold firm on her form. "do not worry yourself with such matters, yes ? sleep, my sweet girl and i shall take care of it"
her mind was still heavy with thoughts but alas, physical and mentall exersion would not allow for her to be arguementative at this time. she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep, secure and unashamed in the hold of her knight.
gwayne could hear her breathing even out, steady inhales and exhales a song to his ears. he however, could not so easily forget his worries. the situatuin they found themselves in, or rather, the situation gwayne had put them in, was indeed precarious. if their excursion or worse their nightly endeavors were to be discovered it would end her reputation and his life. but there was a way out. he could, have her. he would have her.
and as the night progressed, sky coming full of stars, he decited, then and there, his purpose was her, her safety his duty and her hapiness wis reward. she would be his life or signal his doom, in either case, as long as she was his, he would be glad to take it.
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a/n: alright yall, this took too long but im really happy with the end result. there may be minor rewrittes in the next few days, or i might release an updated version altogether. please give me your thoughts on gwaynes characterisation bc i was working with scraps.
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ldydeath · 5 months ago
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We Can Love Again | Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon)
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Summary: Your boyfriend of two years breaks up with you suddenly. Jiyong, your best friend comes to comfort you and also to admit his own feelings.
Warnings: mild language, angst.
Author's note: considering making this a two part fic. We shall see. 🖤
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Today was supposed to have been a really great day. Dinner with your boyfriend and then an event with your best friend, Jiyong. You lived for nights like this. You hadn’t been expecting to get dumped at dinner, though, which is how you found yourself curled up on the couch tears streaming down your face. Sure, it hadn't been the most perfect relationship but that hadn’t made your feelings any less real. You’d loved him and he just up and dumped you for no reason after two years. .
Not wanting to make a scene you’d left as soon as you’d felt the tears pooling in your eyes and beelined it straight home, turning your phone off in the process. The Gala event with Jiyong had completely left your mind the second your heart broke. You had no idea how long you’d been sitting in the dark, you didn’t really care either. It’s not like you had anything better to do.
A knock at the door shook you from your thoughts and you stood up, wrapping a blanket tightly around your dress. You hadn’t even bothered to change out of it.
“Oh thank god” your best friend's voice greeted you as you opened the door. His eyes widening when you met his gaze.
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours. What’s wrong, why have you been crying?” His words came out rushed, worry etched in his face.
You moved to the side, allowing him room to enter your apartment.
“We broke up.” You chewed on your bottom lip, trying to keep the tears at bay as you sat back down on the couch, wrapping the blanket tightly around you.
Jiyong sighed as his eyes surveyed the room. You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed as he looked around the dark room. He moved to turn on a light before sitting down next to you, a protective arm wrapping around you, pulling you closer. He had never liked your ex.
“He’s an idiot.”
Your head moved to rest on his shoulder and you sniffled, a small nod of agreement following. “I’m sorry.”
He kissed the top or your head and you closed your eyes as more tears fell from your eyes. Jiyong hated seeing you like this. You were his entire world and seeing you in so much pain caused him pain too. The two of you sat there in silence for a long while, the only sound to be heard was your occasional sniffle as you tried your best to compose yourself.
You moved slightly, wiping the tears from your cheeks, catching a glimpse of your best friend's outfit.
“Shit!” You sat up fully, the blanket falling off your shoulders. “The gala, I completely forgot.”
You reached for your phone, turning it on, your heart sank as you saw the time. When did it get so late? He shook his head, grabbing the phone from your hands and movig it to the coffee table.
“It’s fine, the guys were there so I wasn’t completely alone.”
His reassurance still made you feel awful, and you threw your head back on the couch, a groan escaping your lips. You weren’t this person, a flaky friend who cried in the dark. You vowed to yourself that you would make it up to him. Lifting your head to look at your friend, you gave him a small smile.
“I still feel bad.”
Jiyong chuckled, pulling you back into his arms.
“I would’ve skipped the gala, you know. You could’ve called me. But there is absolutely no reason for you to feel bad.”
Your heart raced at the close contact and you quickly chased those thoughts away. You were sad, any close contact despite who it was was going to garner that reaction. That was all. You didn’t like Jiyong. And even if you did, he definitely didn’t like you back.
It was nice being comforted this way. It made you feel silly for not calling him the second it happened.
“Thanks for being here.” You leaned up giving him a friendly kiss on the cheek, finally starting to feel slightly better.
The world wasn’t going to end, you’d be okay eventually. He tensed when your lips met his skin and you pulled back quickly, your brows furrowed in confusion.
“You ok?” You’d kissed him on the cheek a million times over the years, but he’d never froze like that before.
He stared at you, visibly uncomfortable, as if he was at war with his own thoughts.
“No.” He shook his head, his arm falling from your back. You instantly felt cold again and you wrapped your arms around your legs, as if holding yourself together would actually keep the world from falling apart. Why wasn’t he ok? What had you done?
“I have to tell you something.” Well, that was never good.
“Ok?” You rested your chin on your knee, giving him your full attention.
“I think I might be in love with you. I know the timing is shit and all, you know, considering you’ve been sitting here all night crying over some asshole who never deserved you. But I need you to know that I love you. I think I’ve always loved you.” Your eyes widened at his confession.
You’d been expecting him to say he was repulsed by you, not that he was in love with you. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“I don’t know what to say…” you trailed off.
You’d never really thought of him as more than just your best friend. Not until a few minutes ago when you realized you liked the comfort of his touch a little too much. But that was just the sadness talking, right? You glanced over at him, his eyes met yours, pleading with you to say something. Anything.
“Jiyong. I- I can’t right now.”
He closed his eyes, hiding the million emotions swirling in his mind at your rejection.
“Why not?”
You almost didn’t hear the question, he whispered it so quietly and your heart broke for him. You hadn’t seen him so defeated since he’d made his grand comeback and you hated to be the cause of his pain.
“I just can’t. You’re my best friend, I just got dumped. I’m in no condition to know what I’m feeling right now. I just need some time.”
He was off the couch before the words had even finished falling out of your mouth. Rejection had never come easy from Jiyong, stemming from years of having to proof himself. He never thought you’d ever reject him.
“I have to go.” He made his way to the door in three long strides and before you could even process what had happened he was gone.
Fuck.
Desperate for a do over, you grabbed your phone, calling him.
“Ji, please.” You begged, willing yourself not to cry as you heard him pick up the call.
“I need time too, ok?” His voice was broken up by the wind.
“Time for what?” It was stupid to ask, you knew that.
“To get over you.” The phone clicked and Jiyong was gone.
How had everything gone to shit so quickly? You needed to fix this, you just weren’t sure how.
Tag list: @wcnderlnds @alosss-blog @sooyasya @dprvivi
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ghouldump · 1 year ago
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Your lestat x louis x claudia fic EATSSSSSSSS
If your are up to it could you do something with my pretty husband armand and his manipulative ways?
Beautiful Deception | Armand x Reader
ෆ moving to paris, the last thing you expected was to come across the ancient vampire.
lol thank youuu so much, i hope you like this 💕 sometimes i take a while to post because i rewrite my work over and over until i think it’s good. this was a great idea and i don’t mind taking more.
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“How long will you continue to claim that you are a vampire?” The interviewer, Daniel Malloy asked. Crossing your leg over the other, you smiled.
“It is merely one of many truths, but I will let you and the readers decide if it should be accepted,” you said.
It had been nearly a year since you turned 100. Since you made the blog, originally to share stories from your past. Despite all events being true, and the website becoming a success, it was all seen as fiction. You were seen as a character, an upcoming writer dedicated to your role, but it would be coming to an end. Daniel, someone you’d been studying for some time now, needed a story, something fresh. He was getting the raw unspoken truth, things you hadn’t shared before, publishing it along with an interview.
“Why now?”
“Why not now, Daniel? We live in a new age, where we people of the night should be known,” you smirked.
Just then, the door opened, and Armand, your partner of over 80 years entered. The sleek black turtle neck was perfect against his glowing brown skin. Turning to him, you looked up in admiration, as he placed a soft kiss on your lips, before sitting next to you.
“I hope you don't mind, my husband, Armand, joining us”
“Armand the vampire? You said some concerning things about him,” Daniel said, trying to get under both of your skin.
“We’ve moved past those times,” you said, as Armand intertwined your fingers.
“Alright, whatever that’s supposed to mean, shall we start?”
“Yes, let’s,” you smiled, nodding.
“Let’s start here…”
Run, run, don’t stop, keep running.
Your heart pounded, as you ran through the streets, gasping for air as you grew more tired. Afraid to look back, you kept going, you were sure you’d drop dead in fear seeing him behind you. Turning on nearly every corner, relief washed over, seeing a store owner closing his shop.
“Sir,” you called out, as you jogged to him.
“No, no, I’m closing,” he pointed at the sign.
“Please help me, he’s going to get me,” you cried, as the man finally turned to face you, genuinely concerned.
“Come in,” he said, letting you into the store. As you came in, he locked the door behind you. With the adrenaline coming down, you could feel pain in your foot from stepping in glass.
“We have to hide,” you told the man, tugging at his sleeve.
“You go,” he pointed to the back, before he went behind the counter, pulling a shotgun out.
Limping to the back of the store, looking back one more time, you screamed as the door burst open, the shop owner being killed instantly. As the elderly man fell to the floor, you cried out, before he appeared in front of you.
“Y/n,” his eyes softened seeing your tear stained face, all of your makeup running down, mixed with the tears.
“Please….”
“You’re moving ahead of yourself, Daniel, we have to start from the beginning, I had just moved to France-
“So Armand didn’t kill the shop owner and was about to kill you next?” He asked, as Armand clenched his jaw, glaring at the man.
“Daniel, you only get one session, you have to get this right, just let the story seduce you as it had done to me,” you said as he begrudgingly nodded, finally ready to listen.
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"Here are your keys, rent is due on the third of each month," your new landlord, Henri said, handing the keys to your husband, Phillip.
“Thank you, sir,” he muttered, while you giggled, your eyes exploring the place. Neither of you was the best at French, at least speaking it. Despite the previous months of studying and reciting, your articulation was still overwhelmingly, American.
He didn't say anything, giving you both a questionable stare, before leaving the small apartment. Compacted in size, and already cluttered with furniture, but it was your new home, and that's all that mattered. Shutting the front door, you walked over to the full-sized bed. This was the fresh start you needed.
“What do you think?” Philip asked.
“I love it,” you told him, jumping into his arms.
Living all of your life in the States, you were the youngest of two children. Your father, you never knew, not that it mattered too much to you. It was your mother who came from a wealthy family in France. Before she decided to move to its child, New Orleans.
She didn't talk about her time there much, only telling short stories about your grandparents or her early life in Paris. She was lonely as a child, and her parents were oftentimes neglectful, as a result of having her at an old age.
Having her own children, you and your twin brother, Elijah, from a hookup with an attractive soldier, she vowed to dedicate herself to both of you. She made sure neither of you ever went without, providing the best of your desires.
Around 9, you were certain you wanted to be a performer. It didn't matter how or what you did, the idea of being adored, captivating the crowd, your juvenile mind was set. Your mother soon paid for all sorts of lessons, dancing, singing, and instruments, she was just as determined that you would achieve your dreams.
While you were striving for your goals, your brother, Elijah, struggled with living in your shadow. You took up most of your mother's time, which is how she didn't notice the bullying. He had always been introverted, harmless as a butterfly, nose deep in a book. While you were holding onto hopes and dreams, your brother was guaranteed a successful life with how smart he’d always been.
However, there was a problem, jealousy. She was a demon, stronger than most, willing to compel whoever that would allow, to do whatever their deepest desires were. This is why, on that Saturday evening, on your 14th birthday, you and your mother left for the market, intending on baking a cake for the two of you, she attacked.
Bullies from his class saw him as he was taking out the trash. They never liked the boy, coveting the lifestyle he had been fortunately given. Attacking him, they only meant to roughen him up a bit, until he fought back. Then, filled with that ancient spirit of jealousy, one of them picked up a rock.
Thankfully, one of the neighbors heard the commotion and came running to save him, but the damage had been done. From that point on, your brother was different, as was your mother.
The life that he was once guaranteed to have was gone and your mother spent all of her time focused on caring for him. She still paid for your classes, but you were no longer a priority.
At 18, you met and eventually married Philip, a 22-year-old, journalist. He was very handsome with the most alluring brown eyes and soft wavy hair. He didn't have much money, but once he settled somewhere and established his career, he promised to give you the world.
Your mother disapproved of the marriage, how could you carelessly marry a poor man trusting his empty promises, she screamed at you. Which is why, out of spite, you told her you’d be moving to Paris. You watched as the hardened expression dropped, and sad memories flashed through her eyes. Throwing her hands up, she gave up with her argument, letting you leave, sending a parting gift of a few thousand dollars, before you were out of the country.
Now in the beautiful city, Phillip’s future seemed to be already looking up to be just as bright, as he had already been hired by a popular news corporation. Securing the apartment was simply the final step in your new life, at least that's what you thought.
Immediately, Philip worked day and night, hoping to begin to provide you with the life you deserved. Dates weren't as frequent as they once were in the States, but intimacy was just as regular as before, if not more.
Meanwhile, you oftentimes left home, looking for work. Not many places would hire women and the people who did expected their workers to work twice as much as they were paid. Until The Grand Cabaret, Edward, the head director of the restaurant/theatre was in dire need of new performances.
He'd stopped you on your way home from the store, captivated by your looks, giving you his card. Telling Phillip about the man, he agreed that it could be a good idea. Perhaps even a step towards becoming the big star you always wanted to be.
The next night you went, Philip was going to be out a little later than usual, finishing work. Anxiously, you made your way to the address on the card. Stopping in front of the building, you were surprised by the lack of guests. The establishment was nice, a few people were seated eating, and slow music was playing, but people continued to walk past.
“Ah, mademoiselle,” Edward smiled, as he stepped out.
“Not a busy night?” you asked him.
“People are more willing to eat with an equally lovely performance,” he said sheepishly, his eyes shifting to his left.
Following his eyes, you stared at the theater, Théâtre des Vampires. You could see the line of customers, excited to get into the theater. Although, the workers looked extremely rude and intimidating, dressed in the vampire costumes.
“I’m sure you just need the right act,” you told him, making eye contact with security, catching his brash expression.
“Do you sing or dance…?” He asked, waiting to hear your name.
“Y/n, and yes, I’ve been trained in both, I will admit, I am still not the greatest singer,” you laughed, as you accepted his hand.
“Please allow me to offer you a job here, as one of our employees. I trust your word, I am desperate, you’ll be paid weekly-
“I-when would I start?”
“Tonight…I mean, if it is possible,” he said.
“I can only stay for a while, my husband isn’t aware that I am away”
“Yes, of course, come right this way,” he said, leading you to the dressing room, allowing you to set your things down.
The cast members were all kind, introducing themselves as you glanced at yourself, checking your makeup.
“We have our newest act of the evening, the lovely and beautiful, Y/n,” Edward said, introducing you, before leaving the stage. He could already see the attention shifting to you, excitedly he opened the door, along with the windows, allowing potential guests to see.
“Just follow my lead,” you spoke to the small orchestra before you began singing a song you’d heard back when you lived with your mother. As the audience grew more interested, you felt your confidence rising by the second, as you danced freely, shutting your eyes, thrilled to finally be performing.
That night, for the first time, The Grand Cabaret was a full house. Everyone who passed wanted to see and hear more of your talent. As everyone clapped for you, and you could see now, you would be a star.
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“What is the meaning of this?” Santiago frowned at Sam, wondering why he hadn’t been notified about any signaling of the play starting.
“Well…” Sam faced their leader, who stood, waiting for an answer.
“They’ve all gone to that stupid cabaret,” Estelle crossed her arms.
“Cabaret?”
“Apparently there is a new girl, American, she’s bringing them a bit of attention with her…performances,” Celeste told him.
Not saying a word, Armand furrowed his eyebrows, leaving the theater. His steps held a steady stride as he approached the building. Never since the theater had been opened had the place been empty. He had to see with his own eyes, this person, what had you done to take all of the loyal guests.
As he approached the entrance, the first thing he noticed was everyone wearing all black. The Dance of the Dead, starring the beautiful lead, Y/n,” his eyes skimmed the sign.
“Excuse me,” you said, brushing past Armand, and nearly running to the dressing room.
It had been a little over a month since you began working and although at first anxious, you were more than grateful for the opportunity. Edward was incredibly generous, wanting to keep his main act satisfied. You began to recommend themes, scenery, and new music, the guest needed to be able to visualize the show further than what you were giving.
The Dance of the Dead was a mockery of the vampire theater but with your own twist. A few people you'd grown familiar with had gone, telling you about how real everything seemed. How they’d managed to pull off some sort of screenplay, like movies. You never took the time to visit yourself, but saw the action as simply a little fun competition.
As the lights dimmed, Armand sat down, unintentionally gulping as you sauntered onto the stage. Immediately, the music started, along with your dancing. Armand watched as everyone focused, hypnotized as you were oozing in sex appeal. He nearly second-guessed himself about you, it shouldn't be possible for a mortal to captivate so many people in such a way, Armand thought to himself.
Going to your knees, as your head went back, he couldn’t help but think of how supernatural your beauty was, how luring your essence was. Going further to the floor, you faced the audience, your eyes meeting his. He smirked slightly, nodding at you, while you bit your lips.
As the song came to an end, you stood up, bowing your head. The audience cheered loudly, clapping and whistling.
‘Beautiful’ you heard, your eyes going to Armand, as he stood up.
“Thank you,” you blew kisses at the crowd, before going backstage.
He watched in amazement as they still cheered for you, the way that you moved ingrained into his thoughts. Coming from the dressing room, you looked almost different, blending in with the audience. He walked to the door, as you talked with your boss, accepting the envelope, along with a quick hug.
Moving outside, he stayed not too far behind you. Seeing that no one was around, he sped up, intentionally bumping into you.
“I’m so sorry,” you apologized, as his hand brushed against your waist.
“No, it is my apologies, I may be mistaken, but do you work at the Cabaret?”
“Yes, I do,” he watched as your eyes twinkled with joy.
“I’m Armand, I am the director of Théâtre des Vampires,” he held out his hand.
“Y/n,” you went to shake his hand but froze as he lifted your hand, placing a soft kiss near your knuckles.
“I…I have to get home, my husband is waiting,” you told him, emphasizing the title, as he stared into your eyes. You couldn't deny the mysterious man was quite the sight.
“Allow me to walk you home,” he offered.
“Oh no, I wouldn't want to take up your time-
“Nonsense, a woman of your caliber should be escorted, perhaps we could talk business,” he said, making you smile.
“Okay,” you nodded.
“Ladies first,” he motioned for you to lead the way.
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Armand was unnaturally enchanting in every aspect, a forbidden fruit your heart told you to stay away from, but your flesh tingled in his presence. It was an unspoken understanding that you could only see him at night at these shows. You anticipated seeing his youthful face, every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. He'd sit within the audience, watching your every move. Then backstage, approaching you, he'd always have a fresh bouquet. You would give him a look and he’d say something along the lines of how a star deserves flowers.
“Knock knock,” Armand said, catching your attention, turning from the vanity.
“Hi,” you smiled, standing up, and closing your robe.
“For you, the beautiful star of the show,” he said, handing you the bouquet.
“Thank you, Armand,” you told him.
“You never have to thank me,” he shook his head, reaching for your hand, and placing a soft kiss on top. Pulling away, as your heart leaped, you shifted your eyes.
“I have to get home soon,” you said.
“Right, your husband…it is a shame he doesn't come out to support you,” Armand said, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
“He works a lot”
“Unfortunate, I mean for him, because I get to have you to myself,” he said, smirking.
“Are you walking me home?” you asked, your face burning at his shameless joke.
“I'm ready when you are, angel”
You admired Armand, greatly, how confident, bold, intelligent, handsome-wait. Being around Armand, you oftentimes had to remind yourself you were married, as well as him. He had no problem blatantly flirting and laughing as you froze up in embarrassment. The two of you were growing closer than you should have been, while, it seemed like your marriage was crumbling.
“I don't want you working there anymore,” Philip told you, as you replaced the water in the vase, setting it near the window.
“Why? The extra money is helping…” you said, still staring at the flowers, Armand crossing your mind.
“My colleagues have been talking about the place nonstop, they think you’re some exotic whore,” he grumbled.
“Okay? There opinions aren’t paying us,” you told him.
“I don’t need them having you as a subject in the paper, you’re quitting,” he began to raise his voice.
“Philip, the money is great”
“I told you, I would provide the life you deserve-
“When? We’ve been out here for nearly a year and you have no signs of a pay increase. Am I supposed to sit around and hope? My mother was right about you,” you spat.
“What did you say?” He stalked towards you, your hands went up defensively as he walked towards you, as if you were prey. Raising his hand, he held it high, ready to strike you. You’d shut your eyes, waiting for the blow, but it never came.
Opening your eyes, you watched as he stood still, realizing what he was about to do, he shook his head.
“I’m sorry,” he began to repeat, reaching for you before you ran out of the building. As you made it down the flight of stairs, you mentally cursed yourself, realizing you forgot to grab your coat, but were too afraid to go back.
Instead you walked the streets, stopping in your tracks, seeing the familiar faces. The cast members dressed as creatures of the night. You were about to walk towards them when a hand lightly pulled you backward. Gasping, your face relaxed as you bumped into Armand.
“Hi,” you said, breathlessly.
“What are you doing out here, in the middle of the night?” He tilted his head at you. You could ask the same thing, they were all here, a good distance from the theater.
“Just walking around, clearing my mind,” you said, shrugging.
“Something happened?” He asked, a concerned expression on his face.
“I’ll be fine, it’s nothing,” you shook your head. Armand was the last person you wanted to burden your problems with.
“Then allow me to join you, we can clear our minds together,” he intertwined his arm with yours.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to-
“Shall we go to the park? It’s quiet around this time,” he thought, leading you in the other direction.
“What are you all doing out here, in the middle of the night?” You asked him.
“Finding…inspiration,” he smirked.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course”
“Do you think it is wrong to regret big decisions you’ve made?”
“I think there are no coincidences, your mistake can lead you to your biggest culmination, regret is unnecessary, stress about something from your past, but tell me, what is it, you wish could have been done differently?”
“Maybe stayed home, pursued my dreams there, found a husband who was a man of his word, who supported my ambitions despite if others thought negatively of me,” you said, you hadn't realized you were crying until you felt Armand's finger brushing the tears away.
“This is nothing to be ashamed of, your dreams are coming to reality and I am a man of my word, I couldn’t care what anyone has to say when you’re on stage,” he smirked as you started laughing.
“And why is that?” You stopped walking.
“Because my eyes are blessed to see an angel and I don’t want to miss any parts of your beauty,” he said, as he gazed into your glossy eyes. Stepping closer, he pressed his lips against your own, and your arms guilelessly went around his neck.
“Where have you been, all my life?” you peered into his eyes.
“Waiting for you,” he said, kissing your lips, once more.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you giggled as the kiss broke.
“You’ve been worth the wait, come, it is getting late, I’m sure there are still some hotels opened-
“I can go home”
“Y/n-
“Trust me, I’ll be fine at home,” you smiled, as he redirected the walk to your apartment.
“Are you sure you want to stay here tonight?” Armand asked, as you both stood outside your door.
“Knowing Philip, he left,” you reassured him.
“Come to my theater tomorrow night”
“Okay,” you nodded.
“See you then,” he grinned, pecking your lips, before turning away.
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“Edward, I don’t understand?” You frowned, trying to fathom what he was saying.
“I think it’s better this way, I’ve been more than grateful for the business you’ve brought to us, but we can’t risk having the article released, it will do more damage than anything,” he explained, his eyes full of pity.
You had extra time on your hands, stopping at your job, when Edward gave you the news. He was firing you, not because you had done anything wrong, but because he had received an anonymous tip about the cabaret soon to be in the media, and not for anything positive - going as far as being compared to a brothel.
All coverage wasn't good coverage in Edwards's eyes and he knew the target audience would turn away from the establishment in an instant.
“I'm sorry, Y/n,” he said, as you sighed, before putting on your best smile. You wouldn't cry now, sometimes this happened to big stars, you told yourself.
“It is alright, I wish you nothing but the best, goodbye,” you told him, leaving the cabaret.
You never looked back, keeping your eyes forward as you approached the ticket collector. His eyes snapped to you as he slightly frowned.
“There is a line,” he told you matter-factly.
“Is Armand here?”
“You can find out after you get in line just like everyone else-
“Y/n,” Armand walked outside, giving him a look. You watched as he lowered his gaze, almost in submission.
“Come,” he motioned, reaching out. Smiling, you accepted his hand, letting him lead you to his booth.
“Is there a reason you look like you’re on the verge of tears?”
“Just trying to figure out why everything is going wrong in my life,” you said, with a chuckle.
“Perhaps your culmination is closer than you realize”
“I hope you’re right”
“I’m in love with you,” your eyes widened at his words as you spoke at the same time.
“Armand, I-
“Since the moment you graced my eyes, I’ve been bewitched by your presence and…and I don’t want to leave it. I can give you the life you deserve, a stage to perform, love unlike any other, and pleasure beyond comprehension, choose me,” he told you, his eyes went to your lips, before he turned, watching as the lights dimmed.
Throughout the play, you could hardly focus, as your finger interlocked with Armand’s. His thumb caressed your warm flesh, bringing your hand to his lips. You could agree with your former colleagues, the play seemed real, almost too real. If it wasn’t for Armand’s swooning, you would be panicking.
You watched as the girl screamed, begging to be saved, but death came to collect. Surrounding her, her shrieking faded away as the curtains closed.
“That was…intense,” you gulped, as Armand laughed.
“It is all apart of the show,” he reminded you.
“Yes, doesn’t change that it was a little scary”
“You would look ravishing on that stage, whatever you'd like, singing, dance, it's yours,” he told you.
“I have to go,” you bit back your smiled, flattered by his bold promises.
“Stay, for tonight”
“I can't, it has been on my heart to write to my mother, so I want to get a head start,” you told him.
“Then will I see you tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow night,” you nodded, accepting his kiss, before you left, making your way home.
Thinking of the steady decline of your marriage, you worried for your future, if you were headed towards a divorce. Your mother was the smartest woman you knew and although she was disappointed, you knew she would never turn her back completely. Like the prodigal son, you’d return home if it meant better circumstances, and your mother like the father, would accept you with open arms. Your heart wanted to believe Armand, but you couldn’t allow yourself to fall for more empty promises.
Settling back into the apartment, you sat at Philip’s desk. You wouldn't consider yourself nearly as good as a writer as he was, but he had taught you a few things to better your craft. Grabbing a pen, you started a bit formal, it had been a while since you'd seen your mother after all.
As your writing progressed, you poured your emotions out into the paper. Dealing with the suppressed feeling of being the reason for your brother's condition, your failed attempts at marriage, and your career, since leaving home. Glancing at the clock on the wall, you raised your eyebrows at the time. Had it already been two hours of writing? Albeit, there was a pile of crumbled papers.
Suddenly the door burst open, Philip rushed in, terror covering his face. Locking the door, he immediately went to the small kitchen, pushing the stove in front of the door.
“Philip?”
Hearing his name, his head jerked around as he met your gaze. Rushing over to you, he stopped, seeing you back away nervously.
“Y/n, please, I won’t…just let me explain,” he said, opening the manila folder.
“It started when you wanted to work at the Cabaret, I was so excited for you, I started an article, you were going to have an entire page. But…but then my brain began to get distorted and fuzzy, I could hardly think. Before I knew it, the article was on fire. I came to your show and I noticed someone”
“You came to my show before?”
“Always, after the first time, you came home gushing, I promised to try to make it,” he said, pulling out the stack of photos he continued.
“This man, he came to every show, front row, bringing you flowers,” he showed a series of pictures of Armand, some of the photos you were in. His arms around you, his lips pressed against your own.
“Philip-
“Just listen,” he shook his head, stopping you.
“I went to his theater, to confront him, to win my wife back, but then I found this, in his office,” he pulled out more photos.
“He has been watching you since we came here, from the time we arrived, there are photos of you taken. Then, I looked around, and what I saw, they aren't human, none of them. Those aren't plays, they're actual murderings,” he cried, showing the hardly developed pictures of the coffins and corpses in a box full of rats.
“I think he has been getting in my head, since I began to suspect him, I’ve felt like another person is living inside of me,” he said, wiping his tears.
“I waited until they all settled in for rest and I set the hell house on fire, we have to leave, now, we can go home, start fresh, leave all of this behind us,” he stressed.
Moving to your shared closet, he began to rip all of your clothing from the hangers, throwing them on the bed. You stood with your hand on your stomach, trying to process the photos. Indeed, there were photos of you from the moment you stepped off the boat. You didn't want to believe any of these bizarre claims, but here was the proof right in your face.
Unexpectedly, the stove was pushed out of the way, as the door burst open. Armand walked in, his hair slightly disheveled, the scariest glare set on Philip.
“Armand?” you called his name, hesitantly.
“Y/n, run,” Philip told you, as you jumped away from the table, the paper catching ablaze.
“Philip-
“Run, now,” he shoved you, right as Armand grabbed him. His hands around his throat, lifting him off the ground. Philip struggled, trying to free himself, gasping as fangs came out. Armand seemed to be growling at him, before sinking his teeth into him, determined to drain every ounce of blood from him.
“Run,” Philip strained, as you covered your mouth, rushing out the door.
Run, run, don't stop, keep running.
Your heart pounded, as you ran through the streets, gasping for air as you grew more tired. Afraid to look back, you kept going, you were sure you'd drop dead in fear seeing him behind you. Turning on nearly every corner, relief washed over, seeing a store owner closing his shop.
"Sir," you called out, as you jogged to him.
"No, no, I'm closing," he pointed at the sign.
"Please help me, he's going to get me," you cried, as the man finally turned to face you, genuinely concerned.
"Come in," he said, letting you into the store. As you came in, he locked the door behind you. With the adrenaline coming down, you could feel pain in your foot from stepping into the glass.
"We have to hide," you told the man, tugging at his sleeve.
"You go," he pointed to the back, before he went behind the counter, pulling a shotgun out.
Limping to the back of the store, looking back one more time, you screamed as the door burst open, the shop owner being killed instantly. As the elderly man fell to the floor, you cried out, before he appeared in front of you.
"Y/n," his eyes softened seeing your tear-stained face, all of your makeup running down, mixed with the tears.
"Please, don't kill me,” you cried, shaking your head.
“Shh, shh, there is no need to cry,” he consoled you, forcing your head into his chest.
“Why did you kill him?”
“Because he married you,” he admitted.
“What are you?”
“A vampire,” he shifted his eyes as you looked at his face.
“They weren’t acting,” you shook your head, trying to shove him away.
“Not at the end, no,” he confessed. Wrapping his arms you, he walked you out of the store. You continued to try to fight him, but he was much stronger, holding you effortlessly.
Lifting into the air, you gasped, realizing he was floating, no flying! Wrapping your arms around him, you shoved your face deeper into his soft coat. He smiled as one of his hands held your head.
“We were out hunting, when I noticed you, stepping off of the boat. I could hear your precious thoughts, you were sure you'd be the next big star. You had dreams but weren't putting yourself out there, so I sent Edward to you, and I made sure he paid you like the star you are,” Armand said, as his feet landed on top of the museum.
“I showered you with praise and gifts of all kinds, and yet you left every night, going back to him, what is it that he could possibly have that I couldn't give you?” he asked, a gloomy look in his eyes.
“He was my husband, he didn’t have much, but I loved him,” you cried.
“He wouldn’t have given you the opportunities you can have. He would work himself to death, not without cheating on you to fill the void within himself because he knew he could never give you the life he promised”
“You killed him,” you continued to cry. Rolling his eyes, he felt himself growing frustrated with you.
“Because I love you, I can love you better than his wretched human mind could ever think to fathom. I could give you the eternal gift, lavishing you, treasuring you, why can’t you see, has your love for me left that quickly?” he asked, as he grabbed your face, forcing you to look into his eyes.
Glamouring you, he hoped to find the truth, that your heart had turned cold at the sight of him. Wiping your eyes softly, his hand trailed to your lips, brushing against them softly.
“No,” you said, breathlessly.
“Then choose me, you have no need to fear me, we will be companions, equals, I, your maker, and you, my angel,” he said, a bloody tear slipping out of his eye. As he looked away, you snapped out of the trance, your heart ached to see Armand this way.
“I don't think I can forgive anytime soon, but I love you and I want you,” you told him, as you began to cry all over. Reaching towards his face, you wiped the blood away, before cupping his face in your hand. Searching your face for reassurance, you nodded.
“This will hurt for a short moment, but our eternity together will make up for it,” he told you, softly pecking your lips. Swiftly dipping you, you held onto him, as his fangs sank into your neck.
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“Then what happened?” Daniel raised his voice, leaning towards you.
“I drank from him, and became his fledgling. I would say the rest is history, but it’s on the blog,” you laughed.
“You forgave him, just like that, after what he had done to Philip?”
“She actually took nearly a decade before I didn’t hear anything anymore,” Armand said, lifting your hand to his lips.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to go back to a few things,” Daniel said, writing on his notebook.
“Okay, let’s hear it”
“Philip said that he came to your shows, nearly every single one, up until you were fired. But, during your time with Armand, he always seemed to working”
“He was saying a lot of things that night, him showing up to my shows was the least important thing to me at the time, but it was like 80 years ago, I don’t remember it like it was yesterday,” you laughed.
“I understand, Philip and Edward both spoke about an article, did this said article ever come about?”
“No-
“The fire was talked about, it took any attention from Y/n,” Armand interrupted.
“And what of the Cabaret? The Vampire Theater?”
“As far as we know, no one made it,” Armand said.
“The Cabaret went out of business a few years into my new life, I hear it’s a bakery now, you should visit,” you told him.
“If I’m not busy, I will think about it. What about your mother and brother?”
“I checked on them a few times, but the bloodline has ended with me,” you said, your smile faltering.
“I see,” he nodded, writing a note down.
“I trust you will do well with my story Daniel, reflecting on my past, I was a child, I didn’t have a real grasp of love and what it meant. I cared for Philip, he is who influenced my writing, but I can finally understand how much I didn’t actually love him,” you told him before he stopped the audio recording.
“Well, that’s it,” he sighed, saving the contents, before closing the computer.
“Lovely, would you like to stay for dinner?” you asked, as Daniel rubbed his head.
“No, I already made plans,” he said, his head feeling distorted and fuzzy.
“Awe, too bad, let me at least walk you to the door,” you stood, leading him to the front door of the spacious penthouse.
Sitting alone, Armand clenched his jaw, his eyes sharply piercing the air. Years upon years, nearly reversed in a single session. He could tell by the way Daniel was asking these questions, he wanted you to remember the obvious, but the truth was far too blurred for you to ever remember things how things were.
From the moment he saw you, he wanted you, filled with jealousy seeing you kiss him. He immediately began to find information about the two of you, watching from a distance. He did hear your thoughts, about how you wanted to be a star, which is why he sent Edward to you. The Cabaret had been nearby for some time now and hardly got any attention, you could work there for a while until you were ready for his stage.
Philip had been to nearly every show, but Armand was too far into your mind for you to ever notice him. Dancing and singing for the vampire alone, he had changed your memory too many times for you to even recount your performances. His breaking point was after stalking you, approaching your apartment, his heart shattered hearing you moan for him. The man he despised.
Lastly, he wished him turning you was as romantic as you made it out to be. After you told him you didn’t love him anymore, he promised that you would learn to love him again, before draining you. The thought of the fire infuriated him, his hate growing towards him. Philip ruined his plans and for that, he paid with his death. You were supposed to be turned, in the most beautiful way, becoming the lead actress at his theater. All of his plans, plans for you, the both of you, went to waste, because of him.
Armand knew some would come to this conclusion, and begin to question why. The answer was simple, so simple that many would hate him for his actions. He was jealous, seeing someone have what he wanted, so he took it. He had lived too long to care about his decisions hurting others and he held no regrets.
“Hey, are you coming to get ready for bed?” You asked, coming back to the entrance of the living room. Standing up, in an instant, he stood in front of me.
“Am I forgiven for my choices, my angel?” he asked, rubbing his face against your hands as you held his cheeks.
“You don't have to ask, don't let this story get to you, it's in our past,” you told him, furrowing your eyebrows at him.
“I love you,” he smiled, kissing your lips.
“I love you too,” you told him, kissing him once more.
“I'll join you soon,” he said, watching as you turned, walking away.
Armand would never admit how prideful and monstrous his nature could be. Selfishly, he has taken you away from any and everything you knew, keeping you all to himself. However, none of these things mattered, he had won, in the end. You were a star, only meant to perform on his stage.
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organic-bloodbath · 5 months ago
Note
Can you do a part three for Teach Ddakji to me plz
Teach Ddakji to me - Part 3
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The Salesman x American!Reader
Summary: A stranger leads you towards unfolding the secrets of the man you've fallen in love with.
A/N: My people has been begging and i shall serve. Once again, i do not know what the hell i'm writing so i'm just vibing.
Part 1 - Part 2
♡♡
"I can explain," he said, putting the glasses and bottle on a side table. You kept holding the gun with your fingers.
"Yes?"
"It's only for protection, i promise," he insisted. "And it's not loaded."
You were silent, not sure exactly what to do or say.
He sighed. "When my dad was shot, i sort of got a gun to feel safer. He was killed in his own home, so getting a gun meant i could defend myself if anyone came here and tried to harm me as well."
You looked at him suspiciously, narrowing your eyes.
"I haven't used it, i swear," he promised, taking a step closer to you. You let out a sigh.
"Okay," you mumbled and shook your head. "Well, okay, i suppose."
He slowly put his hand on yours, grabbing the gun from your hold. You eventually let go of it and let him have it back.
"I can take it elsewhere if you're more comfortable then," he offered, afraid this was going to scare you away. You nodded and he went to take it to another room where you wouldn't have any business walking into.
You had never been a fan of guns. You knew people in the U.S. who had a gun at their homes but your family had never been one of those, as far as you were aware of.
You did feel bad and had sympathy for him the longer you thought about it. You couldn't imagine how bad trauma you would have if your own father was murdered, you didn't think you would be able to live anymore. You couldn't blame him for having sleepless nights and afraid for his own safety after that.
To be honest, if that happened to you, you would have gotten some sort of weapon into your home too, just in case someone would come after you too.
Soon he came back, a nervous look on his face now when he approached you slowly.
"Hopefully that didn't ruin the night?" he asked carefully and stepped in front of you.
"Do you have others in your house?" you asked. "Or like, anywhere?"
"That's the only one," he immediately swore.
He put his hand on your cheek and pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. His warm touch always managed to relax and calm you down, forget all the worries in the world for a moment. He looked at you with all his love and kindness in his eyes, and you knew you could trust him.
"Let's grab the wine, hm?"
"Okay."
♡♡
He was meant to keep his work a secret from you. You couldn't find out about what he really did, no. You would instantly leave him, that was for sure, and he didn't want to think about that possibility. He only had to come up with more and more lies - but for how long? How long could he really keep up this facade around you? He had turned his back away from you for only one moment at his house and you already managed to find one of his guns.
Or would you leave him? Would you be okay with it after all? It would be so much easier to be able to explain everything to you. But he also knew he had to keep the games secret from any outsiders who wouldn't take a part in the game.
The look on your face haunted his mind the next day as well. You had looked at him in a way like you didn't know who you were dating after all.
And for the most parts, you didn't.
The look on your face had told him loud enough that he couldn't tell you about his true self – not now or in a long time.
Along with that, he had felt someone watching him outside. He wasn't sure who it could be, but he was certain that he was being followed by someone and he didn't like that feeling at all.
He had to find out who was trying to shadow him.
♡♡
The three of you were supposed to go for a dinner together soon, but your brother had to cancel last minute and changed the plans for tomorrow, making you frustrated.
"I'm so sorry, something came up," he had texted. "Let's meet up tomorrow, okay?"
There was always something that 'came up' when you tried to make plans with him. You tried to question what he meant but he wouldn't tell you, preferring to stay all secretive to his sister.
As you were driving home in the car your friend had borrowed you to use for a week, you were falling into your thoughts a little too hard, not paying as much attention to your surroundings as a good and responsible driver should have. Sooner than you realised, you were stopped by a traffic cop and had to pull over.
You saw a man look at you through the window, motioning you to roll your window down.
He said something in Korean to you which you couldn't really understand. He switched to English as he figured you were a foreigner.
"License, please?"
You grabbed it from your purse and handed it to the man.
"You were speeding a little," he stated.
"I know, i'm really sorry, i wasn't thinking."
"I'll have to write you a ticket, miss," he said seriously.
"I know," you sighed and closed your eyes, laying your forehead against your hand. "I really am sorry, i didn't mean to."
"Are you feeling alright?" the cop asked, a hint of worry in his voice – but only a little bit.
"Yeah, yeah, no problem."
Truth to be told, you weren't entirely fine. You had slept only couple of hours and had drank almost an entire a bottle of wine last night. You weren't really hangover right now, just suffered from a bad headache, for which a painkiller hadn't helped.
"Are you sure you're able to drive further?" he tried to confirm, unsure if he should just let you go with the ticket without questioning you further.
"I'm sure," you said but didn't sound believable even to your own ears.
"Could you step out of the car, please?"
You let out a deep breath and opened the door, stepping outside. He stood right in front of you, trapping you between himself and the car. He pulled a small flashlight from his pocket.
"Follow the light with your eyes."
You did as you were told, trying to act as cool as possible. You had been only once before pulled over on the road by a cop and that had been in America. You hadn't been sure if the protocols in Korea would be the same.
He turned the flashlight off and put it back into his pocket.
"Alright, you can go now," he nodded. Thank god he didn't actually believe you had been drunk driving.
Looking at his face closer, you could see that he was young and very handsome. If you weren't in a relationship and would have met him somewhere more... relaxed environment, you could imagine yourself starting a nice chat with him.
"Thank you, officer," you said politely in Korean before stepping back into the driver's seat, slipping the ticket into your purse. You tried to make atleast a little better impression with your poor Korean skills but weren't sure how correct the pronunciation really was.
"Have a good day, miss. And do pay your ticket on time."
♡♡
"Had a fun and eventful night with your man, i hope?" your roommate asked, one eyebrow up and teeth biting her lip to hide her smirk, failing on the simple task.
"Sure did," you answered and managed to make yourself smile. You wouldn't mention the gun part of the night to her, trying to brush the entire thing off your mind. "How about you? Found a hot guy at the club?"
"Oh, i definitely did," she answered. "He's some sort of a rapper, i think, though i had never heard of him. He gave me his phone number if we should catch up again some other day."
"Mhm, he gonna take you on a date?"
"Oh god no, all i want is to get into a bed with him again. He knows what he's doing," she stated seriously. "Besides, romantically i'm into more mature men, like that your hottie. Unfortunately you can't really find those men at the clubs where people our age go to."
Your roommate had met him a few times, but rather quickly, they hadn't had the chance to actually get to know each other since you didn't really bring him inside your apartment longer than a few minutes when he would come pick you up or bring you back home. But when he had met your roommate, he had acted as the most charming version of himself, like a man would act around a girl's parents when he'd meet them for the first time.
♡♡
"Okay, darling, i need to go to work for a few hours now to settle a few things," he said later that day as you were walking on the street together, his hand holding yours. He leaned down to kiss you on your lips.
"Come pick me up afterwards?" you asked with a smile.
"Of course, see you then," he smiled, pressing one more kiss on your lips, and turned his back to you, disappearing behind the next corner.
You took your phone from your pocket and was browsing a song on Spotify to listen to, until a man stopped you, stepping in front of you.
"Excuse me," the man said, making you turn around to face him. "You were with a man just a moment ago, dressed in a suit, right?"
"Um," you started, brows furrowed in confusion. "What's this about?"
"You were with a man in a suit?"
"Yes, but i-"
"Listen, i really need to find him. He's uh... a colleague of mine," he explained. "And i need to see him as soon as possible."
"Why do you need to see him?"
"We have some business to do. Work related," he quickly answered.
"Don't you have his phone number? Work phone or something?"
"I got a new phone and lost it."
"Just call to your workplace, maybe they can-"
"I don't have the time right now," he said, startling you with the tone of his voice. He noticed it and lowered his voice a little, not meaning to freak you out. "Could you just point the way, please?"
"Well, he didn't really say where he was going. Only that he had to go to work. Can't you meet him there?"
You narrowed your eyes, you could tell he acted very suspiciously. Did this man really know him? He had sounded so hesitant when telling how he knew him. Usually you weren't able to tell very easily when someone was lying to you, but right now even you could tell his behavior and reactions were too odd.
Besides, this guy was complete opposite than the man you knew, by the looks of him atleast. If they worked together and were on their way to work, you'd imagine this stranger would wear a suit too or something similar and cleaner.
♡♡
Gi-hun could tell that you were completely oblivious about the Recruiter or otherwise you were just a good actress to hide his secrets, refusing to tell his location. But you had looked completely lost with Gi-hun's approach to you and the talk about the man's work.
To be fair, he did probably look like a crazy person so he couldn't exactly blame you for not giving the information he so desperately needed.
Gi-hun hadn't thought about the Recruiter's private life, of course not, so it was strange to see a woman kiss him and hold his hand. He always seemed like only a pawn in this sick game to other people, since Gi-hun didn't even know his name either. The Recruiter always wore that same suit too, he felt like some sort of a default character in a game who had no proper development.
Which he basically was.
Gi-hun had lost his contact to the men he had hired to track down this man, until finally, his phone rang again.
♡♡
Of course you had grown too curious and suspicious about this stranger that you had to follow him wherever he was going.
Was it a good idea? Probably not, but you were still going to do it. It slowly started to rain, and of course you didn't carry an umbrella with you.
The man got a phone call, but you couldn't fully understand what he was saying since he spoke in Korean. You had studied Korean the best you could during the months you had been here and a little before you left America, but you couldn't translate complete conversations in your mind in just a few seconds. But you could hear some familiar words in the man's speech here and there. You could have probably understood more if he talked more slowly.
Where?
What?
Hotel?
Four?
The tone of his voice sounded panicked and rushed too, even more making you curious.
After a while he finished the call and put his phone back into his pocket. He started walking fast around the corner, soon starting to move faster and faster.
You quickly ran after him. You tried to make sure that he wouldn't see you if he happened to glance back over his shoulder, but you also couldn't lose the sight of him. You weren't exactly the fastest runner and would be out of breath soon, but luckily the distance to the destination wasn't too large.
Eventually, you ended up by a building, a hotel or hostel of some sorts. He went to the back of the building through a side alley, not entering through the front doors, which seemed to be locked by chains.
When you entered the hotel inside, you had lost the man, but you knew for sure that he had arrived here as well, right before you, so he couldn't be very far.
There was nobody else around, the place was totally empty, most of the lights were out and there were no sounds around you, forcing you to tiptoe even quieter not to make yourself known to anyone else possibly here. You didn't want a guard to find you trespassing, if there was one.
You started walking up the stairs, slowly and as quietly as possible, heart racing so fast you were afraid someone could hear it if they stood too close to you. You unintentionally held your breath as well out of this thick suspense what was going on.
Maybe this was completely unrelated to the man you loved. Maybe something else had come up with him and you were following a stranger somewhere private like a creep. Would this end up being a trap of some sorts?
Then, you heard speech somewhere in the fourth floor and walked towards the noise with even slower steps.
You were approaching one of the rooms where you heard two men talking to each other now much more clearly – the walls of this building seemed to be as thin as paper, since you had heard them already further away.
But then you noticed that the door wasn't closed, so you could easily open it without a sound and peek inside the room.
Two men were sitting at a table on the opposite sides, facing each other. It was that same man who had stopped you on the street. Your eyes widened on what you were witnessing right now.
He had a gun in his hand. It wasn't the same revolver which you had seen in his house.
"I used to work at the game too," he explained to the man with a calm voice. "Clearing and burning countless of bodies of people like you. I remember thinking: 'These things aren't human. They're just trash, they have no purpose in this world.' That's what i kept telling myself for a few years. One day they gave me a gun. I liked the way it felt. It was like someone had finally acknowledged my existence." He leaned back in his chair. "I don't know what year it was, but there was a man who lost, and i went over to shoot him. I recognised his face. Guess who it was?" He now leaned towards the man opposite him, his voice turning into a mere whisper, and you weren't sure if you heard it correctly or just imagined it. "My dad." You noticed a small smile lingering on his lips. "I was pointing the weapon at my very own father. And he begged me, tears in his eyes, to spare his life. You know what i did?" In under a second he lifted the gun and pointed it right towards the other man's face, who didn't even flinch. "I shot him right in the middle of his forehead and i realised: 'Huh, i guess i really am good at this'."
Your blood ran cold and all you wanted to do was to run away, but your legs refused to move at all. They shared a few more words but you couldn't concentrate on their conversation anymore. You felt like you weren't able to breathe. The ground beneath your feet was slowly failing you.
The next time you looked towards them, he pressed the gun on the man's forehead again, now actually pulling the trigger, making you slightly jump from the noise.
You were frozen on your place. What the hell were you supposed to do in this situation? Run away, confront them or call someone for help?
But as he moved the gun towards himself, inserting the gun deep inside his mouth, a playful smirk on his face, you had to act.
You tried to say something as you stepped towards the table from the shadows, finally able to make yourself move before he would be able to pull the trigger, but you couldn't get a word out of your mouth.
He let the gun slowly fall out of his mouth and his entire face turned pale like a ghost as he realised who had joined their little game. When his eyes met yours, you noticed something red on his cheek, and you instantly thought of it being someone else's blood, the same red splattered on the collar of his white shirt.
"Y/N? What are you doing here?"
This was the man who you had fallen in love with. A man who took you on sweet dates, took you into his warm embrace as you slept with him in the same bed, kissed you both softly and with passion... a man who opened up to you about his father's death and how someone had murdered him coldblood.
The murderer had been him all along. How could you be so naive and dumb? Had there been red flags which you had just missed?
Other than the damn gun at his house.
But now there sat only a man just couple of metres away from you who had just confessed on shooting his own father with his own gun. Pulling the trigger himself. And he had told it with a smile on his face.
He had lied to you this entire time. You wanted to shout and yell at him, then run away, but you couldn't move your body. Until he stood up.
Instantly, without hesitation you took a step back as he took one towards you, which made his heart break.
♡♡
A/N: I'm not sorry about the ending 🙂‍↔️ the last scene is obviously not 100% accurate to the show. Next part will take a while too so be patient with me 🫶🏻 if you want to be added or stay on the taglist, lmk.
Tags:
@k1ra-park3r
@aftersnrise
@sakurayashiro
@zmbiefiend
@preppyfella
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ctheathy · 1 year ago
Text
The Claim of an Operational Sin
Claude Frollo x Reader
Suggestive Oneshot
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Is this damn priest dilf energy or nah
Author's note: Have you ever disliked a villain so much you wanted to hate breed them and make them your bitch? Read this, cuz you can :)
You're one of the few ladies the tyrannical man has taken interest in. Something he'd refer to as being bewitched by those who are innocent. Intrigue driven by his own lustful desires similar to his captivation by the beautiful dancer, Esmeralda. But unlike her, you were certainly not as lucky preventing your imprisonment and attempting to escape the minister's grasp.
Frollo/Reader [Romantic Tendencies(???)]
[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]
Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :
!Female Reader! • Seductive/“Succubus” reader • Imprisoned reader • We're basically gonna be assaulting him WOOHOO • Threats • Reader is unfearful of death • Arousal • Teasing, but it's bordering on degradation • Desperation • Drooling/Salivating • Kissing • ...Leaking...iykyk • He's an old man who's never satisfied his primal desires, what did you expect • This entire fic and concept in general is TW worthy tbh-
I REGRET NOTHING ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
“...You are a bloody!” Frollo spoke sharply. Taking a deep breath as he looked at you with a bitter gaze. His eyes were cold now, a sour expression on his face. His eyebrows were raised, as if he was trying to control his anger. He was currently in front of you in one of the many dungeon cells underneath the Notre Dame. “... How long do you think you're going to be alive? If you keep acting like this.” He said, sounding almost like he was threatening you.
And despite his subtle warnings, you kept your time in the cell undisturbed, paying no mind to his little hissy fit. To the point it looked like you were straight up ignoring him, which only fueled his already angered state. Demanding you to not even think of not listening to him whenever he spoke. But in all honesty, his constant irritation was just getting you more entertained by the man. It was like watching a child throw a tantrum. Well. You were more than ready to show him that he picked the wrong lady. That your abduction was an easily regrettable decision for him. He was stuck here with you, not the other way around.
Grinning with anticipation, you leaned against the wall with a careless posture. You couldn't care less about what series of threats he had to offer. “Mhmm? Won't that something you should be worrying about as well? Lusting after women and harassing them for centuries can cause for quite the revolution, if I may” you were sneering with sarcasm. “The most recent victim has certainly been influential. Miss Esmeralda, was it? It’s difficult to control yourself, isn’t it~?” you mocked
“... Silence yourself!” He yelled in a half-angry, half-desperately demanding tone, something that noticeably made you laugh out loud. Frollo felt a hit of shame and embarrassment by the fact that you've taken note of him lusting after her. It was a sin ...he wasn't supposed to feel this way. And it was that gypsy who has bewitched him! Tainting his purity with her alluring words and movements. At least, in the minister's head it was, blaming a fairly innocent soul for his own shameful and unholy impulses.
“Many peasants have faced the consequences of the witches’ actions through either custody or death. So choose your words carefully.” trying to warn you and keep you in line, but your reaction would be ...unexpected. “So what? Everybody will die one day.” You glanced back up to the priest and cocked your head to the side. “Perhaps nature shall take its course in the next future for me too. Who knows? Which would be beyond fine with me” you murmured with yet another chuckle, raising an eyebrow. “But atleast now you still have somebody to turn to, wouldn't you say?” He noticed you sending him a wink of mockery, but was too baffled by your sudden statement.
The eyes of the minister widened, as he heard you say that. “You... You don't value your people's freedom. You... You don't care about your own existence." He gritted his teeth. You could practically see his temper exploding. He never understood how somebody could be so unflappable towards the idea of their own very demise. He felt like he had no control over you, which infuriated him greatly. Though you remained in a calm posture, a look of disinterest in your eyes as he felt the need to mention it. “Look," you began with a bit of attitude, unconcerned about how far you might be pushing him over the edge with your next few words.
“Don't treat your lustful motives as superior over what I lack. Eventually, natural selection shall take its course for all of us anyway. And I'll greet it with open arms as soon as the time comes” you half assed with a small smirk. But Frollo? He did not like that one bit, seething with rage as he snapped
“You don't care if nature takes its course, huh!? Well, I will be the one to take its course, if you will not! I am going to give it my best to make you suffer. I shall tear you down with my own hands.”
You took in his words, as your grin slowly started to expand a little the more he went into detail about his description of how exactly he was gonna take your life. You softly chuckled at his threat, hanging your head down as your hair was resting over your eyes, covering them up as you continued to giggle with pure amusement. “Awh..~” you glanced up at the man once again, some of your teeth exposed with your grin as your eyes were smugly half lid. You readjusted your hand as you gently, yet firmly grabbed him by the jawline, placing your thumb right under his chin as you pressed his skin. “It is truly adorable how undeniably obsessed you are with me. Do you clop to the idea of hurting me too?”
You curled up your index finger as it caressed Frollo on his cheek, your little smirk becoming smaller, but still being very visible nonetheless. “I'm quite flattered, my sweet~” your prying eyes were full of glee as you fluttered your lashes, attracting the man even further if that was even possible. You took a step even closer towards him, your chest almost pressed onto him as you got further into his personal space, so inviting...
And oh dear God. Everything you just said... Your smirk, your stance. It didn't take a genius to figure out that you were attempting to seduce him. You were trying to provoke him. And it was working. “H-hngh..!?” Frollo's breathing grew shallow. Every muscle in his body was starting to tighten in exasperation. He was shaking in anger. That's right. He was angry- so unbelievably, extraordinarily angry. But, he was also... Tempted.
And though his body was noticeably still somewhat stiff, you did not miss him beginning to melt into your touch, despite the obvious death stare in his eyes. He was so easily affected and getting worked up by your shenanigans, it was almost cute. Almost. You smirked to yourself as your soft fingers continued to tease his facial features. You were completely leaning into him at this point, both breasts squished onto him as you kept the eye contact with assertion.
Your free hand even wandered over towards the back of his neck, your fingers gently digging into his spine as you rubbed them up and down, but slowly beginning to add more pressure. “You seem to be making yourself comfortable with me quite swiftly, minister...” you stood on your toes to add on height and match his level, “Is that something you enjoy? Making quick development instead of taking things slowly~?” Frollo's heart literally started beating faster. The way you were saying these things. It was so very seductive. And your finger that was caressing him? You... A-Ah...
“H-How dare you!” His tone sounded so frustrated, like he was trying to hide something. Something he wouldn't want you to find out. You could practically see the rage in his eyes, but the way you spoke? And the way you got so close to him, you could practically feel his anger, his resentment, slowly melt away. His head started to turn red, as he gritted his teeth. He really couldn't take it, you had completely caught him in your trap. And you did that so... effortlessly.
It made him feel weak and submissive, a foreign feeling to the priest. You were completely dominating him. Not just physically, but emotionally as well. You made him vulnerable. You got into his... frozen and rock cold heart. You were in control now, and he was just so very powerless to your charms. His entire body was beginning to tremble. His breathing, it was slowly getting quicker and more shallow. It almost felt- the way you touched him, with such delicate care. The way you were teasing him like this. His entire body was starting to feel so hot. He felt the blood surging, pumping him up, preparing him for something he didn't dare to acknowledge.
And being less vigilant, he admitted to his thoughts much more easily. “It... astonishes me... when you... make me lose control” He said, the tone in his voice being a mix of anger and lust. Of desire. Of passion. Words that you hadn't really expected. You'd never guessed for a response like this. It was so sensual. He was clearly losing control now. The way he had just admitted to you that he was enjoying this? It felt as if he was a man on a chain. And you were the one holding it.
This was not supposed to be happening. Not like this. Frollo was... He was tempted. He was extremely tempted. He did not want to be tempted! He did not want to be lured by your feminine allure and your seducing gestures! Why. Why were you seducing him!? He was supposed to kill you, not fall for your antics dammit! He was literally getting flustered now, much to his embarrassment. And the way you pressed your body against his, as if trying to get as close as physically possible? It was really, REALLY making him nervous.
“Don't... you even DARE ...think that I am enjoying this! I... I am simply attempting to ...to” he began to trail off, unable to even think straight. And the more he was trying to desperately deny your claims, the more amused you became with the show. Without warning, you took another step forward and pressed your hips against him... pinning him with one of your thighs. Both of your bodies rubbing on one another as you adjusted your position again. Wanting to see just how hollow his words actually were.
And now he was definitely flustered. And you could tell. His breathing hastened, and he was literally going bright red. Frollo was trembling. And the fact that you could sense just how aroused he was, just made it worse. Because... Your intimate areas were rubbing against his, and there was not a single inch of space between the two of you. “S-Stop... this, you... Y-You witch..!”
His eyes widened as soon as you stepped into him further. You were just getting as intimate as could be. Your thighs and hips were rubbing against him. And it was making him... He was literally drooling now. Frollo was speechless. And he literally was making a mess out of himself. Like... He looked like a fool! One of the most dangerous people in the country, was... drooling... His mouth was open slightly, looking like he was going to say something. But instead, he closed his mouth shut again, and looked almost ashamed. As if he had been caught doing something humiliating.
Your eyes just lit up at the sight while you showed off your teeth with a shit-eating grin, confirming how amused you were by the situation. You tried making yourself even taller than before, as if trying to take away his confidence height-wise as well. You were having this heart-to-heart exchange with him face to face. Your face now literal millimetres away from his, intimidating.
But then you did something that caught him off guard, as you licked off the saliva that was dribbling down his mouth. Your tongue firstly stroking his spit-covered chin before seductively brushing it up to the crook of his mouth where the running drool started. But your tongue quickly wandered to his upper lip, sending a shock right through his veins. Your warm and sweet tongue began teasingly brushing left and right over the entrance of his lips, attempting to pry them open for a good three seconds before pulling back. You glanced at him right in the eye again, a cheeky glint in your eyes. “Aww, you poor man~ He almost spilled..~ Are you actually gonna soil yourself in front of me?” you purred with a tease.
As soon as you started licking the drool off of his lips, He got an electrical shock. A wave of pure nervousness and tingles running down his veins. The blush on his cheeks was getting redder, and you could hear his heartbeat. The saliva that was dropped, got licked up by you. You were staring at him so seductively. A warm, sweet feeling, of just pure ecstasy was flowing through his body.
And the way you were so close to him. You really were an actual princess. Or the queen of sin, rather. He looked like he was about to just collapse. Frollo... His wide eyes were now looking at your lips when you pulled back, and you could see the desire in them. And when you licked the saliva from his lips... He almost- almost let out a moan. He was literally about to melt away.
The priest's entire face flushed a deep, deep red. His blush was... it was so obvious to you, along with the fact that he was salivating at this. But the fact that you licked it off...? You could practically see his entire world begin to break down, right after that. You didn't just break his walls down. You obliterated them. He didn't know what to say. You were just... Ah, God. so, so cruel.
The way you did just that. The way you licked it. It was... Oh, heavens. You would be an absolute demon in bed. He blinked, shaking his head and basically still drooling all over himself. Damn it. What in the world.
“You... You b-bitc-... Yo-... wh-” He couldn't get a word out. He was too stunned. All of the blood in his body seemed to be rushing down to his cheeks at once. And he could feel a warm liquid start to soak into his undergarments. Yes. That thing, the thing that he desperately didn't want to get hard. He clenched his jaws shut, as he started to sweat. He didn't know how to react or respond. You were playing with him at this point. You could practically see the steam rising off of his head. And he could feel the liquid seeping into his cloth.
This whole situation was just mortifying to Frollo, both for his reputation and pride. He tried to take a step back, but he was getting too caught up in his own... reaction, to realize he had his back pressed against the wall in here. He could feel his breathing getting heavier. And just his reaction of shock was more than enough to keep you going, as your hand clung to the back of his neck, your fingertips digging into his flesh again. “I can’t help but wonder what other places are getting hot and moist for me” you purred with a mischievous chuckle, leaning in close to his face once again.
“I recommend you stay in line” you murmured with a sense of warning as you took his bottom lip between your teeth, the tip of your canine pressing into it. Your hot and damp tongue came in contact with it as you pressed it against his parted lips, teasingly tracing it against the entrance of his lips but never actually going inside his mouth... Smearing your saliva over the base of his lips, while you seductively sucked his bottom lip, just watching how long he could keep it up before losing his sense of self control
His body was quaking. His frame was like a leaf in the wind. He was being absolutely manhandled. The way you nibbled his lip, you were making his legs go weak. There were no words. There were just... sounds. Sounds coming from his throat, as the heat and moisture inside him really began to build up. The way you continued to use your tongue. The way you continued to play with his lip like a cat with a ball of yarn. It felt like this was never going to end. And he... his moans. You could hear his voice. Those soft moans, that were only for you to hear. He was losing focus, and he did not care. His body getting wet. And it was all your fault. You were doing this to him. You were teasing him, playing with him like a puppeteer.
His lips were now opening up for you. His mouth inviting. Something which made your eyes darken with glee as you got the ultimate invitation from him. Not hesitating for any second thoughts. Your tongue slowly wandered in and began brushing against his inner lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of having your tongue deep into the back of his mouth. You pressed it in further, going slightly deeper as you rubbed your tongue against his gum tissue. Before reaching the inferior labial frenulum, as you teasingly slid your tongue over it. And that... that was an especially loud moan, coming from a person like Frollo, who's usually calculated and reserved. Reserved on that level, as it was clear he was enjoying this right now.
He was being completely seduced and he didn't care. His vocal groans were beginning to fill the room. The way your tongue was exploring his mouth... It was sending shivers down his spine. His eyes widening as he felt himself start to become damp. Your hand, wrapped around the back of his neck with your fingers pressing into his flesh. He liked how you were being so rough and so dominating at the moment. But your comment, about his other... moistened areas. He felt a hot liquid rushing through his body as he thought about it, as if he was being cooked alive.
He was just completely, utterly, and miserably lost in you. His eyes were staring at yours, with that warm glaze of lustful desire. And he was letting his inner demons play with his soul. They weren't being suppressed anymore. They were getting out, completely free. He was struggling to keep himself from just giving into you. He was almost tempted to just... get on the bed, and invite you on top of him. His lips were now completely split apart. His mouth was inviting you to go in deeper. To do whatever you pleased. The tip of his tongue was inviting you. And you could practically taste his wet tongue. His breath was starting to falter. The way you rubbed against his gums, the movement was so perfect and experienced. Frollo's entire body felt hot and wet. And it was making him want more. So much more.....
You could definitely tell he was getting desperate. His tongue eagerly and impatiently begging for it to intertwine with yours. He wanted your tongue at the back of his throat... And feeling eager, he desperately began to lick at you, desperate to taste you. And wanting to feed into that desperation, you began moving your tongue up and down, making the tip of his tongue rub over yours. Right before your tongue began wandering, slipping it flat on top of his. You slowly began pressing your tongue to the back of his throat, using his tongue as a guide as you slid it down to his tonsils, rubbing them. Sometimes pulling back for just a few seconds before teasingly sliding it down again, keeping him needy for more.
He was practically begging for it by now. His mouth was literally begging for your tongue to get deeper. But you were just teasing him so hard, and that's what was making this so hot. The way your tongue was moving, it was like a damn tongue dance. And you were playing the damn instrument that was his mouth perfectly. Teasing his tongue, nibbing at it and just being absolutely filthy with him. His mouth was just yours now.
You were literally eating him, was the only thing Frollo could think. He couldn't help but groan out as soon as your tongue went deeper inside his mouth, sliding alongside his own tongue. Your warm, wet tongue was rubbing against the sensitive skin in there, and you were teasing his mouth. You were making him melt. You were... making him weak. His neck and back started to arch involuntarily. The way you slid it down his throat as it touched his tonsils... The priest's body was starting to jerk. His eyes went blank, as he let out moans and gasps. It felt like you were controlling his mind and body, and that only made him feel even more desperate and in need of you.
Frollo was in a trance, practically. You were just so tempting. So delicious. His voice was turning into pure moans as he opened his mouth, letting out the sound of a beg. It was as if he was trying to say he wanted it. That this was what he wanted. His jaw was opened, his hands were hanging limp besides his body, behaving so submissively. The minister, who had been feared by everybody around him, was just completely done for.
You pulled back for a bit, as he moaned out in relief. A string of saliva now connecting your tongue with his mouth. “Don't go rabid on me now. You've been wanting this for a long, long time, hmm?” you teased him as one of your hands travelled towards his chin, before you started pressing your thumb into his mouth. You pressed your finger on his tongue, sliding it further to the back of his throat, threatening to make him gag if he disobeyed and forcing his jaw open even further. “Be a big boy and open up wide for me..~” you purred with a sadistic giggle, tempting him by sticking out your tongue.
There was no way out of this. His expression now completely rearranged from frustrated, to a look which was flaring with excitement. He was literally sweating. In one move, you had basically turned him from an egotistical man, into your own personal toy at your disposal. You owned him. Even when he got some of his control back when you moved your mouth away from him, he didn't wanna stop what you were doing. He was just hopelessly addicted to you, His brain was you. Nothing BUT you.
“You're playing under my rules now, minister.”
And he was just another piece of your collection to satisfy your needs.
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dragon-kazansky · 1 year ago
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Bridgerton shade of blue
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Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Six - Splendid
♡♡♡
"Eloise Bridgerton."
Benedict calls his sister when he finds her smoking on the swing set in their garden. He sounded stern, as if scolding her.
Eloise groans softly as she turns on the swing. "Go on, then." She lifts the cigarette to her lips. "Chastise me."
"Spare one for me?" He asks.
Eloise is surprised by his question. He comes and sits on the other swing beside her. She holds a cigarette out to him, and he takes it, putting it between his lips and lighting it.
"Suppose I desire something different." Eloise says.
"How do you mean?"
"Just different. I watch Daphne prepare for these balls with all of those dresses and the many suitors, and I am exhausted. Suppose I want a different life, Benedict. That I truly believe I am quite capable of something more, even when I'm not allowed to have anything else."
"Then I would say... that you're not the only one." He looks at her. They smile at each other.
♡♡♡
With the next edition of Whistledown comes fascinating gossip. You find yourself, for once, clutching the paper with the need to read more.
It has become apparent that Lord Berbrooke has a child out of wedlock, and not only that, with a maid he had sent away before the child was even born. He pays nothing for the child, it seems.
Your mother had been gossiping about with the other ladies she had over for afternoon tea. In turn, their maids had gone off to gossip further.
Word spread like wildfire.
The next day, Lord Berbrooke had left town suddenly.
You made it a point to go visit Daphne. You were taken up to the drawing room where she awaited you, a smile on her face as you came in.
"It's nice of you to visit."
You take a seat with her. "I wanted to see how you were."
"I have expected you come see my brother," she admits.
"Benedict? As much as he has become my friend, I felt the need to come see you. Are you alright?"
"I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders." She smiles softly. "I am glad he is gone."
"As am I. Wretched man, he was."
You both giggle softly.
"So, the duke? He is still on your favour?" You ask.
Daphne goes silent for a moment, and then her face twitches. A realisation. The realisation she must still pretend.
"Ah, yes." She smiles.
You smile in return and take her hand. "You make a most handsome couple."
"Thank you." Her voice wavers.
You do not bring up Hastings or Berbrooke again as you have tea with Daphne. The conversation becomes pleasant. Daphne finds herself talking to you about anything that comes to mind. Not once has any of her siblings sat down and listened to her like this.
It felt nice. Really nice.
An hour passes, and you find the teapot has been emptied twice in that time. There are no more biscuits to share either. You rise from the soft sofa and gather you purse.
"Thank you for letting me visit."
"Oh, nonsense. You are always welcome." Daphne smiles.
"I shall visit again then."
Daphne looks pleased by your words.
"Benedict will be so disappointed you came by and didn't stop to see him."
You chuckle. "Let him suffer. It may humble him."
Daphne chuckles and sees you out.
♡♡♡
The next ball is as dazzling as the others. You swear with each one, Daphne gets more and more beautiful. She enters with the Duke. Of course, everyone sees.
You entered with your mother, no one paying you any mind what so ever. Not that you minded any more. You had come to terms that no one would visit you.
As Simon and Daphne dance, you decide to take a walk. You have no idea what it is they discuss when alone together.
You keep your eyes peeled for any familiar faces. Yet, no one else is present in this current room.
Meanwhile, Daphne parts from Simon and is approached by another gentleman. Her wish to find a husband and have a family may very well come true.
As you enter the next room, you find Anthony in there talking with some others. His gaze lands on you, and he excuses himself from the current conversation. He approaches you.
You smile and bow your head. "Lord Bridgerton."
"Anthony, please. You call my brothers by their name."
You smile. "Anthony."
"Benedict isn't here, I'm afraid. He has elected to sit this one out. May I have the honour?" He holds out his hand.
You take a moment to take in his request. Anthony was head of his family. A viscount. Dancing with him would surely bring you attention.
You place your hand in his. "You may."
Anthony takes you back into the other room and leads you to the dance floor. He holds you as a gentleman should while dancing with a lady. You both move with the music.
Anthony look very firm as he dances with you.
"I must say, this is an honour."
"Is it?" He asks.
"I never see you dance."
"No. I suppose not. I am not beyond dancing with friends." He says kindly.
"Then I am even more so honoured to be considered such."
You both continue dancing until the music ends. You curtsy, he bows. Anthony takes your hand and leads you back to the side of the room. With swift ease, he marks his name down on your dance card.
"I shall see to it you are never left without a dance partner, my lady," he says with a bow.
You smile.
As Anthony returns to the party, you find yourself now being looked at by others. There are gentlemen looking your way.
Could it be true that Daphne is not the only one who can shine?
Soon, you are dancing again, and a few more names are scribbled across your dance card.
You think, perhaps, Daphne Bridgerton is your good luck charm.
It makes you giddy.
Safe to say, your night was splendid indeed.
♡♡♡
@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333
@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173
@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner
@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd -
@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy -
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monimccoythings · 10 months ago
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The Beast Within
Sooo I was trying to write a feral!Logan but this oneshot crossed my mind and I just went along with it. I'll write the feral!logan I want to write when I finish the Wolverine's 1988 run. I think I remember mentioning back in my Retired!Logan headcanons that shall danger come for his family he would be ready and waiting. I wanted to dwell on that.
Summary: You awake only to find yourself and your daughters tied up by some unknown men that wnat to roleplay their wildest and scariest fantasies. Your only hope to survive lies on your husband; a man that gang would soon know they shouldn't have messed with.
Word count: 3087
tags: slight feral!logan, a bit of horror, gn!reader, happy ending, Logan loves his family and will kill for them. A bit ooc Wolverine.
tw: blood, death, attempted rape, non-con elements, kidnapping, swear words.
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It had all happened so quickly. One moment you were entering your home with your daughters in tow, and the next, you were being knocked out by some masked men.
When you opened your eyes, you found yourself unable to move, having been tied to a chair, the cords against your wrists and ankles cutting into your blood flow. Yet you didn't fear for your life.
Desperately you looked around for Laura and your youngest child. Silently praying those assholes hadn't reached them. You nearly bursted into tears when you saw Laura tied to the couch, still knocked out like a light, but fine nevertheless; but that relief was short lived when you saw one of the men holding your youngest in his arms.
"Well, look who's finally up! I'm so glad you could join us."
You mentally counted them, There were about five burly men. All masked, to conceal their identities. A shiver ran down your spine when you saw they were all armed.
"Why are you doing this? What do you want?" Your mind went overdrive with the amount of possibilities. Where they from an anti mutant group? Have you been found out?? Logan had made sure your tracks were covered so nobody would know who and what he and the children were. Where they robbers, then?
"Hmm why would people do what they do?" The supposed leader of the group dramatically pondered. "Us humans always worry about norms, etiquette, social behavior, we repress ourselves..." you let the man rant about how our real animal natures were suppressed by society, you didn't care too much for that, too busy finding different ways to free yourself and save your kids.
"So, to answer your question. We do this for fun. Because we can. Because we aren't afraid to show who we really are." You felt the blood in your veins freeze when you felt the disgusting hand come near your crotch. These people were insane. If they were just robbers, you could just let them take whatever they wanted and wait until they left. Material things could be replaced, but his words implied something much much worse for you.
"Please, just take what you want and leave!" You knew you had to do something, anything just to keep those men away from your babies, just buy enough time for Logan to-
Logan! Yes, he would sense something was wrong, and come for you all! You just-
The man licked a long streak from your collarbone to your cheek, his hungry depraved eyes mirroring those of his accomplices.
"Oh, we are going to take it indeed." He licked his lips in anticipation, his fingers lazily undoing the buttons of your shirt. You felt the cold air in your exposed skin.
"Listen. My husband will come soon. You need to leave now that you can-"
He forcefully grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his empty cold eyes. You didn't find any source of empathy or humanity there. His free hand started to unbutton your jeans.
"Then, he can watch."
The lights went out after that, startling the man and his crew. Some let out a few curses.
"Shut the fuck up! It's just the fucking lights!" The man bellowed towards the rest of the group. He signaled with his head towards the most dimwitted looking member. "Beta! Go check the fuse box!"
The man obediently complied with his orders. The fact that you could barely see, didn't do well for your nerves. They could strike any moment.
Minutes passed and the dude nicknamed 'Beta' hadn't returned. Which was weird, because the fusebox was in a small broom closet at the other end of the cabin, and the cabin wasn't really Charles Xavier's Mansion. You could tell that the man giving the orders was already starting to lose his patience.
"Dumb fuck, can't do shit by himself..." He mumbled. "Gamma! Go tell that stupid bitch to hurry the fuck up!" He turned towards you a terrifying smile on his face "I just can't wait to see the look in your eyes when we break you and the kids."
That was enough for you to lunge towards him, parental instincts activating like crazy. Unfortunately there was little you could do with your limited mobility. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled painfully, you felt tears burning at the corner of your eyes but you refused to give him the pleasure of watching you cry.
"Listen here you little slut. Only I get to bite, only I get to kick, and when I'm done with you l, you'll be-"
"Alpha, he ain't here!" 'Gamma''s voice could be heard from the hall. That only fueled 'Alpha's' impatience.
"I ask him a simple task and he fucking gets lost! Look better or none of you are having a piece of this whore!!"
His eyes turned back to yours. A hungry, wicked look crossed them. His mouth went towards your neck, as much as you tried to resist you couldn't pull away from his strong hold in your hair. You let out a scream when he bit you, praying that he hadn't bitten hard enough to draw blood, but that only seemed to encourage him, just as his tongues was lapping at the bruising bitemark you heard someone scream from the end of the hall.
"OH FUCKING SHIT!!"
*bang*
*bang*
And then nothing. That seemed to alert the group, the leader, Alpha, immediately pulling away and releasing you from his vice grip.
"The fuck was that!?" He commanded "Beta! Gamma! Answer now!"
No answer.
With your heart in your throat you quickly took deep breaths, trying to recover a sense of calmness and normalcy that you knew was long lost. But you had to. Your kids were still unconscious you needed to protect them.
"Sigma. Get out and secure the perimeter."
'Sigma' didn't look very convinced but as long as he released your little baby girl everything would be fine. You could practically feel the hesitation in him as he lowered your daughter onto the nearest armchair and quietly exited the living room, gun in hand.
"Whatever the fuck is trying to screw with us, is going to learn this 'pack' doesn't go down easily."
Minutes passed of eery silence, each minute felt like agonizing hours. You thought it would never end until you heard a blood curling scream followed by the sound of glass breaking and something splattering against the walls.
That's when you heard it. An animalistic snarl. It was faint, but it was definitely there and filled your heart with hope like no other. This time you were surely going to cry from joy.
He had arrived.
You were saved.
Tears fell freely down your cheeks, you couldn't help the broad smile that formed in your features.
"Oh God he's here. He's here..." You repeated over and over like a mantra, as if you couldn't quite believe it.
"The fuck is this bitch talking about??" He backhanded you so roughly that you thought you saw stars, the sharp pain in your cheek was nothing compared to the huge relief you were feeling.
'Alpha' turned towards the last remaining member of his 'pack'. "What are you waiting for, dumbass?? Lock the fucking doors!"
The other guy didn't move for a few seconds, obviously scared at this dramatic turn of events. The tension between him and the leader was so thick you could cut it with a knife. You were sure he was wondering why he should risk his life for a plan that was going awry with each passing second. Maybe he was also considering shooting down 'Alpha' and be done with it.
Before he has time to live up that fantasy, he found himself looking straight at the end of 'Alpha's' Magnum. This was no longer a fun game for them. It had stopped being a game when 'Beta' hadn't returned.
"Lock. The fucking. Doors." 'Alpha's' voice was unusually quiet and full of promises of a world of pain if he disobeyed his orders. There was no other choice but to follow his lead, as always.
With trembling hands, the poor guy put the safety lock as best as he could. Once done, he breathed a sigh of relief, believing him safe.
Until a massive arm, broke through the glass of the door and grabbed him by the neck, lifting him a couple of inches off the ground. The man kicked and struggled, trying in vain to reach for his gun. When the hand released him, he hurriedly went for it before he was grabbed again but was stopped by three metal claws piercing through his skull, killing him instantly. The man fell to the ground like a ragdoll.
"Shit." 'Alpha' whispered, feeling for the first time that night true fear. "Shitshitshitshitshit!" His panic grew as he saw the killer of his 'packmate' kick the doors open as if it was nothing.
You couldn't see him, but you knew he was pissed like he had never been before.
*BANG*
*BANG*
*BANG*
'Alpha' fired bullet after bullet towards him. A single shot would have taken down a grown man. But this wasn't a normal man. Oh no, they had just gone after the family of one of the most dangerous men to ever live.
Logan slowly stepped into the moonlight and your breath caught in your throat. From his beard, to his clothes, blood was dripping, but not from the gunshotwounds, those were already healed. His sharp teeth, bared in a feral snarl were stained with blood, having used them to tear through flesh and bone. The icing on the cake were his eyes, those eyes that looked at you with so much tenderness and lust, that crinkled with happiness when they saw his little ones run towards him; they were just empty, void of any rational thought.
You shuddered at his primal display.
The man known just as 'Alpha' took a step back. For all his talk about how he didn't repress from his animal urges and how he was an alpha male, he found himself small and insignificant in the presence of a real animal. Every adamantium coated bone in Logan's body exuded dominance, power, strength; it was overwhelming. 'Alpha' knew if he didn't play his cards well he would end up like the rest of his 'pack' or worse.
Cold sweat formed on your forehead when the gun pointed towards you.
"One more step, and I'll shoot." His voice was deadly quiet, but you could hear the fear hidden behind all that bravado.
Logan stopped, a low growl building up in his throat. His eyes quickly darted towards yours and returned towards his enemy. You knew you had little time, as long as the 'Alpha' kept his eyes locked on Logan's; he wouldn't dare shoot you unless he wanted to have the slowest and most painful death there was, he just needed to think for a better plan of action, which gave you a wonderful opportunity to ponder about how you were going to get out safely, you had to act fast enough to give Logan some margin.
As quiet as you could muster, you started balancing yourself from side to side. Each second that passed increased your chances of ending up with a hole in your chest. A couple of swings more and-
"AAAAAAAAARRRGGGGHHH"
'Alpha' roared in pain when Laura out of nowhere, sunk her teeth and bone claws on his leg. Unfortunately, as a reflex, he accidentally pressed the trigger.
You would never be sure about how you got so lucky that night, as you fell sideways with the chair, the bullet barely grazed your shoulder. You had evaded death miraculously and there was a new hole in the wall.
Logan didn't waste his opportunity. Before 'Alpha' had the chance to kick Laura off his leg, he freed his claws and with a swift motion slashed his yugular vein with two clean cuts.
The blood splattered on his chest and face like a fountain. Alpha's body went limp and fell lifeless to the side. You let out a sigh in relief, as tears ran again freely down your cheeks.
The nightmare was over.
But not for Logan.
For a couple of seconds, he just stood there, breathing heavily, and coated in blood. Laura stood at his feet, looking at him apprehensively, as if sensing there was something wrong.
"Logan." You called for him reassuringly, but he didn't even look at you. You doubted he had heard you. His fists were clenching and unclenching, his knuckles were turning white. The veins in his arms bulged against the swollen muscles. His breaths came out in short puffs of air. Whatever he was feeling right now, you needed to pull him out of it.
His head turned sharply when he heard your youngest stirring. He looked at his bloodied hands and finally looked at you with a mixture of panic and dread. He didn't know what to do.
"Laura. Laura, sweetheart, untie me." She snapped out from her stupor and quickly tore through the cords, freeing you at last. You massaged your wrists, hoping to return your bloodflow back to normal. As much as you'd have loved to rest there was no time to lose.
You understood Logan's fear. It was already painful enough for him to have Laura watching him when he was like that, he didn't want the other one to go through the same trauma.
You quickly rushed towads him and he flinched back, still in shock. "It is okay, Logan. We're safe. You saved us. I'm going to take the girls to her room okay? He barely nodded, his eyes unfocused. You would deal with him later, now the kids were a top priority.
You would heal together, later.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
He had scrubbed the floors clean until he thought he was going to pass out from the chemicals. He had hidden the bodies or whatever remained of them in a place where he knew nobody would ever look for them. Not that they'd be missed, he supposed.
It scared him how good he was at this. He should have gotten used to it by now, after all, he was the best at what he did, and what he did wasn't very nice.
It had been to good to be true. A sweet dream before waking up and facing reality. He had gotten sloppy and his family had paid the price. He didn't even know what those had wanted, nor did he care. One single look through the window and all sense of rationality had left his brain leaving only the animal that deep down he knew he was.
What would you think of him now? Did you regret marrying him? Knowing what he did was one thing, but actually witnessing it was another. What had transpired tonight would surely define your relationship for the rest of your lives
And Laura? He had worked so hard to erase the violence and trauma of her earlier years, to give her a normal childhood with a family. And he had just pulled her back.
He buried his face in his hands, grabbing chunks of his hair. He was a monster, an animal, a mindless-
He jumped and turned around with a snarl on his face and his claws ready when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Logan's tense muscles visibly relaxed when he saw it was just you, but he was still restless.
"Logan, it's okay. It's just me" You knew exactly was was crossing his mind. After years of knowing each other, you knew that the legendary Wolverine, the man that would take his secrets to his grave, could be easily read like an open book if you got close enough.
"Honey, this is not your fault. You came and saved us. We're here because of you." You couldn't bear the thought of him punishing himself over something that wasn't even his fault to begin with.
"I should have been there with you. I should have arrived sooner, then you wouldn't have to go through-" His gruff voice sounded so broken, so terrified, there was nothing you wanted more than to cradle him in your arms. "I'm a monster." He quietly whispered.
"You are not a monster. You. Are. Not. Not a monster, neither an animal." You cupped his face in your hands, looking into his eyes sternly.
"I-I lost control. I saw you there tied up and I lost it. Laura saw it, and our little-"
"Shhhh... They are alright. They are okay in their bedroom. Laura knew you were protecting us, she has always known." You ran your fingers through his wild hair, marvelling at how his tufts stayed up no matter the situation.
You gently guide him back into the house. You don't look at the toppled chair, or the hole in the wall, or the mountain of cleaning products. Neither of you wanted to think about that. When you reached the bedroom, you undressed each other, taking your time, memorizing every string of clothing. Your discarded attires formed a dirty and bloody pile in the corner.
Tenderly, like treating a very vulnerable creature, you cleaned his face, chest and hands with a towel. You could feel the raw power stored in that massive torso and hands, you knew what he could do with those. But you also knew how careful and soft he was around you and the girls.
You put on your comfiest pijamas and got ready for bed, leaving the mess of that night for the next day. Before he climbed in with you, Logan stopped and takes a step back.
"What's wrong?" You asked.
"Wait here." He hurriedly exited your bedroom, leaving you alone, baffled at his behavior. The last thing you wanted was to be left alone after that night.
Your initial confusion gave way to tenderness when you saw him return holding a daugther on each of his thick arms. Laura blinked groggily at you, annoyed at having been woken up from her slumber. You quickly craddled her in your arms, kissing her forehead.
Holding your youngest baby girl to his chest he got in bed, his free arm pulling you and Laura closer, trapping you in an embrace. He kissed your head, his soft breaths along with those of your daughters were enough to lull you to sleep.
You were safe.
Nobody was going to get you.
He would make sure of that.
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dewitty1 · 3 months ago
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Fic Recs Wrap Up March 2025 (ノ゚∀゚)ノ⌒・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*☆
Maybe This Time by Hatsonhamburgers @hatsonhamburgers
Draco Malfoy has returned home from France after a five-year Potions Mastery study. He opens a shop in Knockturn Alley, is researching mental health treatments, and has a lovely flat all his own. The ire toward his name seems to have blown over, and he’s treated kindly by even those who were opposite of him in the war. His life feels so full, but he can’t ignore that he knows what’s missing: his old nemesis and obsession, Harry Potter. But something’s wrong with Harry. He seems to have had a complete breakdown after the war, and has spent the last five years trapped in time. Every day is the same, and every day, Draco makes amends to him. Potter seems to have lost himself to the trauma, and Draco wants to be the one to help him recover. But not all is what it seems, and Draco may need Harry just as much. Rec Post
The Power of Three by Queenie_Mab
 @mab-speaks
Harry has been seeing Luna, Mind Healer, for twelve years. Recently his repressed homosexuality resurfaces in a way that turns his world and his family upside down. Rec Post
My Little Berserker by Aelys_Althea @aelysalthea
Eighth year was supposed to be calm. Moderated. Peaceful, even. Draco returned to escape the chaos wrought upon his shambles of a life and Harry to flee the responsibility of a world that sees him as something greater than was truly possible. Hogwarts was a safe haven, right? At least it was until Hagrid comes up with the wonderful idea to introduce some additional members to the student body of the fluffier variety. Hagrid doesn’t do moderated - where’s the fun in that? Rec Post
More than Ruin’d Hopes shall Mourn. by jamie2109
Draco wasn’t entirely positive when he’d come to the awful conclusion that Potter had something tangible that made people love him. However, he was sure of the exact moment he realised he coveted that love enough to do something about it. Rec Post
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Here are a few more fics I've read recently that y'all might like to check out as well!(੭ˊ͈ ꒵ˋ͈)੭. * ・ 。゚☆
Go Up to Gilead by dodgerkedavra @dodgerkedavra
The Aurors are Harry’s whole world—right up until he carries Draco Malfoy out of Azkaban in his arms. Harry can’t keep both, so he’s got to choose: forfeit the world, or forfeit his soul?
Among Ancient Pines by cambiodipolvere, only_the_heart_knows, Theartfulldodger @cambiodipolvere @onlytheheartknows @graymatters
Every day, Draco Malfoy tries. With every fiber of his being he tries. But he doesn’t much think about what he’s trying for. In his final term of Healer training, Draco is unfortunate enough to find himself on a plane, the only means of traveling to a small, magical town in rural Alaska. Years of hard work have culminated in an opportunity to work with an experimental wandmaker to study the intersection of Healing and wand theory. When Draco arrives, he doesn't find the wandmaker, but does find his apprentice, who happens to have ridiculously messy hair, a lightning bolt scar, and a definitely-not-charming smile. But Draco isn’t going to let Harry Potter get in the way of him becoming a successful medical researcher, even if Potter is stubborn, hot-tempered, reckless, surprisingly gentle, has bizarre taste in music, and likes to leave his shirts unbuttoned. How hard could the next few months be?
( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡ I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I have! Happy reading! xoxo Carey  (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*💜💙💚💛❤💗💕💖
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autumnslance · 1 year ago
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G'raha's Leadership in the Final Days
Finally got PunchyCat to the Final Days, and while we often speak to the big cutscene where G'raha "goes into Exarch mode" and takes command in the chaos, before that he and the WoL run around Radz-at-Han investigating the Blasphemy, and even there, G'raha's many years as Exarch really show through in how he interacts with the traumatized and terrified people.
Rahdvira: Sisters have mercy, what is happening to the world!? What am I to do…? Is nowhere safe!? G'raha Tia: Settle down, friend. The danger has passed…at least for now. If it's not too painful to remember, could you tell us what you saw?
and at the end of the man's tale:
G'raha Tia: That is enough, my good man. You were brave to share with us your tale. Many of your fellow merchants are safe. The High Crucible, too, has survived mostly unscathed. Pray stay close to your friends and loved ones, and rest your body and mind while you are able. G'raha Tia: I suspect that is the most we can expect the people here to tell us. I think it best we find a place outside the bazaar where we might rest and review our findings.
Choosing to Speak with G'raha...
G'raha Tia: It might distress those still traumatized by the incident to discuss what we've learned within earshot…
He also remembers the details of how WoL knew Khalzahl (thanks to that great memory of his, hearing the reports of the first trip to Thavnair). As Mihleel is shaken by remembering the terror erupting at her tables, however...
G'raha Tia: Forgive me. I would not have you recall the memory if it brings you pain. If I could, I would ask just one more thing.
After getting directions to Khalzahl's neighborhood, WoL and G'raha question an older woman:
Mahti: I don't travel much these days, but my daughter's told me not to venture outside. Stuck in here as I am, I've heard little about these bizarre goings-on. G'raha Tia: Rest assured, the city is safe for now, but the situation may change without warning. G'raha Tia: I urge you: stay close to your daughter, and be prepared to take refuge should the satrap order it. Mahti: Yes, I shall do just that. Thank you for your concern, and pray stay safe as well.
And then the sleepy Arkasodara down the street:
Parigha: Hmmm…? Could you come back another time? I just woke up, and I'm not exactly in the mood for idle chitchat. G'raha Tia: Well, that's one way to avoid the panic, I suppose… G'raha Tia: Pardon our intrusion. You may not have noticed, but a great danger has come to Thavnair. I encourage you to stay alert, and prepare to flee the city should the situation turn dire. G'raha Tia: But before we leave you in peace…pray allow us to ask a question or two.
And finally, when dealing with Djinabaha at Ruveydah Fibers, helping the employees pack things away before he'd even talk, G'raha finishes with this as we go on to the next quest (and Ahewann's fate).
G'raha Tia: My friend, we must take our leave. I pray that your establishment is spared further tragedy. But remember: your lives are far more precious than any wares. If you are ordered to flee, do so without hesitation. Djinabaha: Indeed… I thank you for your concern, and pray you two take care as well.
G'raha knows how to talk to people shaken by disaster, calming and reassuring, and giving them clear advice and action to take to keep themselves safe. It's a handy precursor to his taking command in the next cutscene, reminding us that he is, unfortunately, all too familiar with events similar to these, and this steadiness, thoughtfulness, and concern comes from too many years of practice.
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call-sign-shark · 5 months ago
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Summary: Somewhere in Westeros, an unnamed Maester warns youngsters about the danger of love by telling the old legend of the Feral Lovers — a cautionary tale for hearts that burn too fiercely.
Words: 1.5k
TW: !MDNI! Please read the Masterlist's warning! They are twisted and mutually abusive. Blabla I don't condone nor excuse Amos' revenge or Hev's violence but they are dark coded so, what did you expect?
Lucilla Targaryen belongs to @mischievouslittlecreature. The Rose of Highgarden and the Wolf belong to @justrainandcoffee.
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Next Part
"Gather close, young lords and ladies, and you shall listen well, for I will tell a tale of dizzying love, but not the kind sung by minstrels in courtly halls! "
The old Maester croaked, his rasping voice echoing through the castle's walls as he closed the heavy wooden door of the room to keep the cold of the corridors from entering. Then, he sat on a chair in the middle of a tiny crowd of baby-faced nobilities. The way dancing candlelights hit his face when he lowered his head to look at his audience made his wrinkles strike out— he looked as old as the parchment he spent days with. All around him, young lords and ladies, ranging from 10 to 15 years of age, were gathered, waiting impatiently for one of his many stories.
"Are you going to tell the tale of The Rose of Highgarden and the Wolf?! This is my favorite one, it's so romantic." A little lady with blonde hair and amber eyes said, beaming.
"I've heard it countless times. Can we talk about Princess Lucilla and Thomaryon Targaryen? The good ending always makes my heart melt. Lucilla was such a strong woman, I hope I could be like her and partake in ruling!" Another one exclaimed, holding a book about politics pressed on her chest.
"Not today, children! Today is not the day for those heartwarming tales but rather something I want you to keep in mind in the future now that some of you will soon know the joy of marriage. The story I'm about to tell is not a love story wrapped in silk and crowned in gold. No, this is love in its most primal form. This is love sharp as a dagger, love that scars and flays. And no tale speaks more of the danger of love than of Queen Heavenerys Targaryen and Amos Bolton."
The Maester moistened his chapped lips, his old grey eyes flickering over the young faces in front of him. All eager and wary, hanging to his words. "As many tragedies, it all began with a wedding."
"She was a Targaryen princess, young and bright as dawn's first light, with her white hair as pure as freshly fallen snow and her eyes burning with an ice-scorching fire. Heavenerys was a delicate jewel, even though the fire of dragons obviously burnt in her veins." He recounted with a soft expression on his face before his traits turned colder.
"And he was Amos Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort — a cruel man carved in blood and shadow, feared across the North and beyond. " The master smirked at the audience's reaction, shivering at the sole mention of the name. It has been more than a century, and yet Amos' greatness and savagery still haunted the North. Some families still used him as a boogeyman — don't stay outside too late or Amos Bolton will come back and feed you to his hounds. "She was seventeen, warm as the blazing sun of the South and untouched by the horrors of the world. He was thirty, a cold man who had bathed in them. A man who had inflected them. Amos was a terrific mix of danger and irresistible charm."
The Maester then narrated how the Lord had always refused to be involved in marriage, rather seeking the extension of his power and influence in order to raise his family to the top of the food chain. Legacy and love were supposed to rest on Orion's shoulders and the rest of the family's members. However, when he was offered the future Queen's hand, he accepted for purely selfish motivation.
"And yet, when he laid his ink-black eyes upon her for the very first time, something inside him twisted into madness. Something he had never felt nor expected to feel one day: Love."
" It was Instant, cataclysmic, brutal. Blissful love washed over him like a tidal wave, leaving him shaken to the core. He didn't fall in love like most men who love their wives. No, he loved her much more intensely. So intensely, that it could be described as obsession and hunger — A hunger that no feast could ever sate."
"I say 'love' because there was no truer word for it. Feral, perhaps, but love nonetheless." The Maester's sentence lingered in the air when he caught his breath, as though the intensity of what Lord Bolton had was tremendously taxing to talk about.
"She tamed him like no one had ever dared, bending the monstrous Lord to her will. And while Amos was a monster, the beast softened around her. You might not believe me considering how scarce it is for a Bolton to have a heart, but he truly worshipped her, to the point of devoting all his affection and life to his Queen. But as many Bolton, that darker side of him tainted his genuine affection and chained her. Keeping her caged in his possessive grasp. He was always nearby, looming. His hand on the small of her back, guiding her movements. Surprisingly, Heavenerys didn't really fight it and allowed this controlling aspect of him. Though it stirred some fights, she didn't mind most of the time as long as she could be with him."
"My grandmother said they could not be apart!" A teen lady exclaimed with a little smirk, nudging her best friend, "Never had Dreadfort's halls been so filled with giggles and moans."
"You're impossible." Her friend replied, trying to suppress her laugh at the lascivious comment.
"It's true! He would chase her through the castle, playing cat and mouse, until he'd catch her, then throw her onto his shoulders and bring her back to the bedroom while she laughed herself to tears."
"They could not be parted, indeed." The Maester acknowledged, but his firm tone put a stop to the lewd whispers, "But it went far beyond the affairs of the bedroom. When he rode to war, she followed. When he bled, she was the one who stitched him back together. When he fell to darkness, she plunged in after him and when the world tore them apart, they clawed their way back to each other. But mark my words: love, when turned into obsession and addiction, is cruel."
The air in the room shifted as the Maester's voice lowered, hushed like a whisper, as though he was terrified the lovers might hear him from beyond the grave.
"Amos, jealous and afraid of losing her, unfortunately, caught his beloved little dragon sharing a kiss with her cousin Aerthurys, her childhood lover. In a moment of pure madness, the Dread lord sought to break her, rendered mad with sorrow and betrayal."
"They fought. A terrible, so terrible fight. One said that their screams were so loud that even the dogs outside stopped barking, terrified. Then, for the very first and last time, Amos took what he wanted with force for the sole purpose of showing her whom she belonged to, not minding her cries and pleas. He was blinded with rage. And even though regret clawed at him afterward, it was too late. His touch had left scars. "
All smirks and flushed cheeks had vanished. The only thing that remained was eyes gawking in both sadness and horror.
"But she didn't cower in reply. No, my young ones, Heavenerys Targaryen would have never retreated into tears no matter the suffering she had been through. He had maimed her heart, so she decided to maim his in return."
"The Queen knew that what her husband loved the most after her was control and power so she stripped him of them. She turned to punishment in the dark of their bedroom, vengeance disguised as pleasure. She wounded him in ways that only she could. And just like that, pain, pleasure, vengeance, love and devotion all blurred together."
A pause. A sigh. The Maester glanced at the crackling fire that burnt low in the hearth, his mind resting briefly after struggling to find elegant words to mention the depravity of the Lovers.
"Why didn't she leave if he had hurt her?" A young boy asked with a quivering voice.
"Because their relationship was mostlyloving despite that awful slip. They lived for each other, hopelessly in love. And if Amos was sick in the head, Heavenerys was too, she just hid it better, and thrived in this unhealthy bond."
"So, because they couldn't do it themselves, it was the world that rip them apart."
"Aerthurys came back from war ten years later, thinking himself a savior. He took her from Amos after bloodbath, declaring her freed from the monster who had ensnared her. And to keep her safe, he married the beauty himself and offered her tenderness. He offered her a love that did not bruise nor burn."
With a tilt of the head, the Maester's gaze slowly surveyed his listeners. The two giggling ladies were now silent, clutching at each other with tears-filled eyes.
"But tell me, my sweet children, do you think Heavenerys was truly saved? That she might finally find peace?"
No one spoke. Only the wind outside howled in reply, as though the Lost Queen screamed at such question.
The old man let out a humorless chuckle, dry and full of dread.
"Alas, what is peace to a woman who had blossomed in chaos? Heavenerys withered without Amos, even showered with kindness and care. Despite having affection for Aerthurys, her heart turned into a hollow thing, untouched by his gentleness. She ate little, spoke less, and her burning eyes turned empty like a starless sky. No matter how gently Aerthurys touched her, she did not feel anything. No matter how lovingly he spoke her name, she did not answer. Heavenerys was already lost to another."
The silence that suddenly hovered above the room sent shivers down his aching spine. Far too caught in his tale, the Maesther didn't notice that the fire that kept them warm had died in the hearth long ago.
"And so, one night she was gone. No guards saw her, no horses were taken, only her mighty dragon Kairaxès wasn't there anymore. Soon after, Amos Bolton was never to be seen again."
He leaned in a bit, his fingers steepled.
"Did they find each other?" The same boy wondered, nervously chewing on the side of his thumb.
"The question is not if they did, but rather what happened after."
The youngest among them trembled in fear, staring at the old man as if he were speaking of grim ghosts rather than lovers.
"Some say their bodies were found in the snow, locked in an embrace with their flesh long frozen but bodies still entwined. Others claim they vanished beyond the Wall, into the lands where the dead walk. But there are whispers, children, whispers from the North's darkest tales..."
The skeleton-like branches of a gigantic oak tree outside scratched at the window, making all of them jump in fear except for the Maester.
"Their love —" He spat the word like a curse, " was so deep, so sick, that even the Stranger couldn't defeat them. If you listen to those tales whispered in dark taverns, you'd learn that the cold had transformed them. Not into mindless wraiths though but something else. It is said that Beyond the Wall, two figures still walk hand in hand, their eyes burning like frozen embers, a gigantic dragon looming in the shadows behind them."
He exhaled through his nose loudly before shaking his head in disbelief.
"But you might believe what you want. Perhaps they perished, the echo of their tragic tale still buried in the howling winds of the most frozen winters. Or perhaps, their ghosts still roam far away in the North, enamored even in death."
When the Maester clapped his hands to signal the end of the tale, someone let out a little squeal.
"But let this be a warning to you all. Love is often depicted as a gentle thing, and it can be. Yes, it can be warm, it can give life. But love... Love is not weak. In fact, love is the very thing that can consume, burn and destroy. Even the mightiest can be brought to their knees by it. And even the cruelest can be undone. It's one true power, sharper than any sword and greater than any crown. So beware the hearts that burn too fiercely and recklessly, for they always meet the tragic fate of Amos Bolton and Heavenerys Targaryen, the Feral Lovers of Westeros."
With that, the Maester rose from his chair. The room was still bathed in a religious silence but somewhere outside, the wind howled one last time and a dragon-shaped black cloud flew above the castle.
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The GoT Team: @darklydeliciousdesires @justrainandcoffee @peakyswritings @cillmequick @evita-shelby @lunarubra @shelbydelrey
Some Aleksander fans who might be interested in this AU: @elizabethblood9 @lightinbug
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rome-ii6 · 2 months ago
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Floating Hearts
Summary: In this world
Hearts can float
So you shall seek
Who makes your heart beat
You can call it fake
Or you can call it mate
A/N: i always thought abt this world, and actually, it's two separate worlds that i rolled into one. Enjoy!! :3
Word count: 3,116
Read it on Ao3!
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The air started to smell like rain and soil already these days. Trees became wrapped in an orange colour that made it more beautiful to look at, and the leaves always crunched when you step on them.
Crunch, crunch, crunch.
His weather wasn't that bad lately too, it wasn't good either, but he has seen worse days. Endured worse weather in his world.
Bucky made his way back home. Finally. He thought to himself. He was going back from his grocery shopping, the two of his hands were already quite full of grocery bags. He bought a lot of things, too much even. Bucky looked at the plastic bags and stared at it for moments while his feet kept moving.
Yes, this amount will—hopefully—do for the next few weeks. He doesn't like to go outside that much, it's pretty weird trying to get used to this new world. And he'd like to keep his interaction with people and the outside world minimal. So yep, he really hopes it'll do.
And now after he brought the ingredients, what is he going to cook for himself tonight? And what is he going to drink with it? He grumbled under his breath, trying to think of something that would lift his mood a little. Maybe if he had a decent fancy meal for dinner, he could close his eyes for hours without being interrupted and waking up trying to catch his breath.
And oh no, he needs to shoot these thoughts away, because it is getting cloudy already and it's the last thing he wants to happen right now. Inhale, exhale. Again. And again. Now deep breath. He tried to soothe himself seeking some peace because he does not want to get wet with rain. Fine, no more bad thoughts, just happy thoughts, or what close enough to it.
This world is already weird, with its weather and all those stupid myths being real. He can't help himself but always thinking, is it real? Is there really someone out there supposed to be his other half? His true love and all those things? He doesn't know. Sure, some people assured him that it's indeed true, but…..yeah no.
And it looks like destiny overheard Bucky's thoughts and decided to interfere to mock him and prove that he's wrong, because when he was crossing the street, something caught the side of his eyes and he froze in his tracks.
It was a heart, a floating heart.
There it's, above a beautiful young woman. He blinked, and blinked again, trying to check if he's still in reality and that his mind is still working right. He even looked around, trying to see if someone else noticed the heart—the floating heart, why would a heart float even?—but he knows for sure that he's the only one who's supposed to see it. Because that's how the things usually go from what he heard.
People passed him, but he stood there, looking into the café, standing outside of it. A beautiful woman wearing a scarf was sipping the liquid in her cup while listening to her two friends. She smiled at them and nodded her head a little to the one of them who was holding the conversation, talking frantically. And that weird heart is still….there. still floating above her head.
So this is it, the most important moment of his life? That's the person who's supposed to be his soulmate? He found her just like that?
Yeah sure, some people find theirs pretty easily. Sometimes from the moment they became an 18 year-old, sometime between their twenties and forties. Even sixties. And other times.…never.
You'll spend your whole life searching for the one, for your other half, other heart, but you will find nothing in some cases. Just like that. Nothing. Isn't it ironic? The whole constipation of soulmates and their need to find each other but then you might never have the chance to see them even for a split second, let alone know them and talk.
And not just that, if you were lucky enough to find your other half and get to know them, sometimes it doesn't work. A pair of soulmates don't work. They just don't…. click. But how come that? If they were really meant to each other, aren't they supposed to work no matter what? How is it possible that they may or may not end up together, living happily ever after?
What's the point then of all this? What the point of somebody else that's supposed to be your whole world, your lover, shelter and the one who you'll share the years of your life with if there's a high possibility that you either won't find each other or your relationship won't work, if you might end up spending the years with someone else that's not them but get you well and even better?
That was always in Bucky's mind. It occupied his thoughts regularly.
And now he spent too much time in his head and needs to stop staring like a creep outside the café’s glass wall.
People came and went, crossing and passing him. Putting his feet to work again, he casted a final glance at the giggling woman in the café and went into his way.
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Fate was a hilarious thing, because it made Bucky laugh. Not a happy laugh, a one more like i-can’t-believe-this-is-happening laugh, but it did nonetheless.
Because why is the person that was supposed to be his soulmate in front of him? Talking to him? He didn't want this, he walked away the first time, but the second she was thrown away in his direction, like a silent sign of “why did you walk away the first time.”
But he didn't want this, didn't need this. He's totally fine, Bucky is more than good not having friends or anyone, let alone his supposed soulmate.
He was just taking a walk by, he wanted fresh air. His mood was surprisingly good, that's why the weather in his world was good too, so he decided to go outside.
He spent his time wandering around aimlessly, trying to clear his mind and focus on the current moments. But he stumbled by a bench in the park, and surprise surprise, the person who was sitting on it was no one but his “soulmate”. Bucky can still see the floating heart above her head, and this time he can see it more clearly. He stopped in his tracks, his body going stiff.
He urges his body to go, to take some steps back before she notices him. But his body was frozen, his heart skipped some beats. And just like that, the girl's gaze settled on him.
She was surrounded by stray cats, one rubbing her head against her legs, one sitting on her lap and the last one she was holding between her hands. When her gaze caught his, she stopped playing and stared. Bucky just stood there, too stund to speak, talk or do anything.
And when her gaze went up, up above his head, it stayed there. And he saw the exact moment that she saw what was above his head. (Bucky always knew—from the stories—that there ought to be a floating heart above his head, and that he can't see it, nobody can see it, except his soulmate. But nonetheless, he felt a little surprised when she acknowledged it.)
The girl's mouth formed and “O” and she just kept staring and blinking. She didn't move, didn't talk or do anything, and he's slowly becoming anxious.
Bucky shifted his weight from one foot to another and tried to break this awkward moment. “So are you just gonna stare at me like a fish or….?” He said, his voice lacked his teasing and flirting tone, it was a little firm due to his uncomfortability. “Because you just look so ridiculous.”
He face-palmed in his mind, not knowing what the hell he's talking about. Yeah, he stares at people all the time—they make sure to tell him every time he does it, and he finds it so annoying because that's his resting face—but he doesn't like it when people stare at him.
“Oh my god!,” the girl finally said. “Is that— oh my god, is this realty?” Her voice squeaked a little at the end.
“It's reality. And actually—”
“This is so cool! Like so cool.”
“—I think I'm just gonna leave and leave you to—”
“What are you kidding? There's no way!” She didn't even give him the chance to complete his sentences, and before he could do anything she stood up from the bench.
The cat that was on her lap let out a meowing sound, protesting at being moved out, and she placed the one between her hands on the bench with a pet on its head, stepping more closely to Bucky.
“Dude,” said the girl with so much amusement in her voice. “This is so cool, I can't believe it.” When she came closer, her eyes were where his floating heart was, eyeing it with so much amazement. Bucky can even see how her eyes spark.
“Can i…?” She gestured above his head. He didn't know what possibly she could be asking permission for, so he hesitated for a moment, then nodded his head slowly, unsurely.
The girl—that he still doesn't have her name—stood on her toes, arm held high. She waved her hand on top of his head a couple times. “What are you doing?” He said, confusion written on his face.
“I'm just—” she moved her hand again, like she's trying to catch something. “—seeing if this is real.” Her face was close to his, he even could feel her breath on his face. Meanwhile his breath seems like it stopped.
She looked him in the eyes and said, “I know it's real,” what a strong eye contact, Bucky though. “But I meant like, real, physically real you know?”
She finally stepped back and oh! His breathing had returned!
Bucky had to take a small step back, to create a little space between them and because he was a little nervous. “So,” he said, then didn't amend it. He shifted his weight again and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Was it?”
“Excuse me?” The girl looked slightly confused.
“The heart, was it real? Physically real?” Bucky felt so embarrassed at his communication skills, it was a stupid question and he knows it. But he didn't know what to do in this kind of situation.
Not everyone finds his soulmate accidentally and then run away—no, not run, walk by, because Bucky didn't “run away” when he first saw her in the café. He did not. There's a big difference between running and walking by—and then meeting them accidentally again in a park and they notice him this time, then they start to try to catch the floating heart on top of his head. So yes, of course he doesn't know how to act right now.
His soulmate—if it's even his soulmate. He keeps denying it despite the heart that he clearly can see above her head, and that she can see his—just shrugged. “I don't think so, i tried but—” she shrugged again.
“What's your name?” Bucky finally asked.
The girl put her hand into her pockets. “Y/N,” she tipped her chin out of her scarf and pointed at him. “I would say that it was a pleasure to meet you, but we don't know yet.”
A small chuckle escaped his lips. “I'm James, but you can call me Bucky.” He extended his hand, holding it for her to take.
Y/N took his hand with her, shaking it. Bucky looked at their shaking hands, then at her face to get a good look at it. Her features were pleasant to look at, like when you're looking at a beautiful painting or view, you just want to take it all and memorize all of it in your mind.
Her little red nose scrunched when she laughed. “Stop staring at me,” her voice was clearly teasing him.
He had to cut his thoughts and land back to reality to answer her. “I'm not staring,”
“But you're,”
“I'm not,” he scoffed.
“Mm-hmm. Sure.” Y/N gave him a strange look with raised brows directed at him.
It took Bucky a few seconds to realize that his hand was still shaking hers and he forgot about it because his mind was in another universe, because he indeed was staring at her. And oh my god, I'm still shaking it. I need to stop shaking it.
After he dropped his hand, he tucked it away from her by shoving it into his pockets again to feel less embarrassed.
“So,” Bucky tried to kill the awkwardness between them, and he hoped he could, because killing was what he's good at. Was, it's all in the past. I'm not like that anymore. (Or he hoped.) “Ummmmm….”
So much for trying to kill the awkwardness of him.
One of the little stray cats came and sniffed him, then rubbed its head on his leg.
“So,” said y/n. “What? You got nothing to say?” She let out a chuckle. “I always thought that my soulmate would be charming and would make me swoon using only two words. But, here we are.” She added a little shrug.
“My soulmate”, oh God, this sounds so weird coming out of her mouth. Bucky thought.
And wait, did he just disappointed her already? From their first meeting? In the past, it was easy for him to flirt with some random girl, it wasn't that hard. But now he can't even talk probably with his other half, let alone flirt.
“So Bucky, do you plan to take me on a date or?” when he blinked at her, she added, “well, you know, because all of this—” she gestured with her hand at what's above their heads. “—soulmate stuff and blah blah. So I thought, it wouldn't be not nice to sit for a while and talk. Or not talk, since you seem so bad at that one. Anyway you caught the idea, so why not?”
Y/N tucked herself deeper into her coat, adjusting the scarf. “Wait,” said Bucky after finally noticing her clothes, “you're wearing winter clothes.”
His soulmate raised a brow, “And?”
“You're wearing winter clothes,” he said more firmly, all the hesitation slipped out of his voice.
She had the audacity to roll her eyes. “If you're asking if I'm depressed then yes. But,” she held her finger out, “the question is, who isn't? Mine just happened to be a little tiny bit more obvious. Like who cares, I'm not the only one in the world wearing winter clothes.”
“Y/N,”
“No seriously,” she let out a huff, face going more serious at his tone. “I'm fine, I promise. I've a therapist, I'm taking meds, I've my friends and family, it's just….” She paused. “Things like that we can't control, but I'm fine, so no need to worry.” The last sentence was more like a question, as if she's telling him to not care much about the topic.
But he hesitated, he knows that not everyone always has a shiny good day, like she said. His weather varies from time to time, sometimes, it snows in his world from how bad he feels, sometimes, it just rains.
So who is he to judge her if she said she's trying to live normally despite her depression?
He still has his doubts, but he can't do anything, so he just silenced it.
Y/N kicked the air, “So, about the date? Are you really going to let me ask you out twice, handsome man?”
Handsome m—? “Um, no?” He fisted the hands that were in his pockets. “No,” he said with more confidence this time.
“Cool. Your phone number?”
Bucky just gave her his phone, saving himself from trying to figure out how to save her number in this new technology.
She typed a couple times on the phone, and when she finished putting her number as he assumed, she gave it back to him. Bucky placed it back into his pockets, thanking her.
To his surprise, Y/N stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. Bucky felt his face flush a little at that.
“Don't thank me,” she held his chin gently. “I'll be in touch for the date. See you again?” She let go of his chin, backing slowly.
“See you again.” He said.
She gave him a bright smile, it was so lovely on her face, and even winked at him. Then Y/N said her goodbyes to the cats she sat with, and Bucky watched her disappear.
────────────✪────────────
When Bucky got back to his apartment, he crashed on his bed immediately.
He couldn't stop thinking, his mind kept working. Thinking about the meeting between him and his soulmate, about how he acted awkwardly, how he wasn't charming at all.
How his former self could have acted, how he could have acted smoothly, making his other half giggle and blush a little, make her like him a little.
But he wasn't that person anymore.
Bucky always felt like he was three different individuals. The younger him, the Sargent, when he was the most close to normal.
And there's the Winter Soldier, the brainwashed assassin, the weapon.
He's gone, I'm not him anymore. I'm fine.
Was he though? Isn't that just a lie he tells himself in order to feel normal?
And lastly, there was him after he gained his memories back. The present version. He didn't know what kind of person he's supposed to be. If he wasn't the Sargent, and wasn't the assassin, then who's he?
Bucky kows how messed up he's.
He took out his phone, the screen flashing on his face was the only source of light in his apartment. It took him a lot of time to figure out how, but he blocked his soulmate's number and tried to forget about everything that happened.
He was a mess, a mess no one deserves to clean, or even try.
Bucky was fine alone, he lived most of his life alone and didn't need someone. His soulmate deserved better than him, she'll find love somewhere else.
Because being soulmates isn't destined, being soulmates doesn't mean happily-ever-after. There were a lot of people who didn't end up with their soulmates, and they found someone else, and they lived happily with them. She surely will find someone, and have a happy life.
Or that what Bucky hoped for, because in the end, finding happiness with only your soulmate isn't real, because if it was, why would he ever be someone's soulmate? He can't bring happiness to them.
That was he trying to convince himself before he fell asleep.
I'm not her destiny, he told himself, I'm not her happily-ever-after.
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amnncz · 1 year ago
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earl vincent phantomhive x fallen angel! reader
“once that you have proven yourself worthy, will only be the time that i shall welcome you in this humble kingdom of mine.”
"are you okay, miss?" a soft voice murmured in your left ear, accompanied by a gentle shake on your shoulders, pulling you back from your reverie.
you opened your blue eyes and found yourself looking into the face of a young man with bluish-black hair, his noble bearing unmistakable.
"thank you," you murmured, your voice flat, as you stood up from your seat against the tree.
you brushed the dirt from your dress, taking in the surroundings. weston college, huh.
after composing yourself, you nodded to the noble who had woken you from your daydream, silently thanking him before walking away.
"if i didn’t know any better, I’d think she was an angel. Isn’t that right, earl-domo?" undertaker muttered, his gaze fixed on the blonde-haired girl.
"i suppose we’ll have to find out."
the next day, while you were wandering the college gardens, you heard footsteps approaching. turning, you saw the noble from before, his piercing gaze meeting yours.
"good morning, i’m vincent phantomhive," he greeted, his voice warm yet curious. "i didn’t catch your name yesterday."
you hesitated before replying, "its y/n."
vincent smiled. "its a pleasure to meet you, y/n. if you don't mind my asking, what brings you to weston college?"
you searched for a plausible explanation. "i... needed a change of scenery. this place seemed as good as any.”
vincent's eyes seemed to probe deeper, as if sensing there was more to your story. "weston has a way of attracting those who need a fresh start. would you care to join me for a walk? the gardens are particularly lovely this time of year."
reluctantly, you agreed, falling into step beside him. as you walked, the conversation flowed more naturally. vincent spoke of the college’s history, its traditions, and his own experiences. his genuine interest in you made it difficult to keep your guard up.
as you walked alongside vincent, the weight of your exile from heaven pressed heavily on your shoulders. the beauty of weston college did little to lift your spirits, and the whispers of your past haunted your every step. if your newly found companion was to find out that you’ve been kicked out of heaven, would he still continue to befriend you?
of course not, who would want to befriend someone who has fallen off of grace with a god.
"why do you seem so sad?" he asked gently, catching you off guard.
you looked away, the memories of your fall from grace too painful to share. "its nothing. just... adjusting to a new place."
vincent nodded, accepting your answer for now. "well, if you ever want to talk, i’m here. sometimes, sharing the burden helps lighten it."
his kindness stirred something within you. for so long, you had carried the weight of your fall alone. maybe, just maybe, it was time to trust someone with a fragment of your past.
over the next few weeks, vincent's presence became a constant in your life. he had a way of drawing you out of your shell, his patience and understanding providing a solace you hadn’t known you needed.
perhaps, redemption was within reach.
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jyae23 · 3 months ago
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WW 04/23/25
Guess who's officially 3 months in their lifelong Snowbaz journey :D
Thank you @rimeswithpurple and @fiend-for-culture for the wonderful tags! This post is a long one, so here is a sketch of Simon crying
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Bellow the cut are sentences, another sketch, and lot's of thinking
Upcoming May events and deadlines
COAR submissions open May 1st - May 30th I have a few works that I've already finished and posted that I think I can submit for COAR, but I really wanna make something specifically for the fest. I also really want to do digital art for this too (I really don't make things easy for myself do I?)
Here's a familiar sketch that I have in mind to redraw and fully render digitally:
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IF that doesn't go well, this or the first drawing we saw will have to be finished traditionally. I lack a good camera and I don't like how my images show up through my phone camera (lol skill issue), but for Snowbaz I shall persist and embrace adversity!
"Why are both Simons crying?" IDK it just happened. The top Simon wasn't supposed to be sad, he's supposed happy and then TEARS and the rest is history.
May Drabble Challege I lost my drabbleginity to Snowbaz. Speaking of, there's a few words that are PERFECT for Snowbaz in this month's drabble challgenge. Gee, I wonder who could've possibly submitted those words wink wonk...
Day 2: Faceless
I’m seeing ghosts of where you should be.  Spaces you used to fill.  Words you used to speak. People you used to influence. Days increase without your presence. I try to hold on to the image of you. We lived together for seven years. I should know all your features by heart.  But days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months, and you’re still not here. The memory of you fades. Silence replaces where you are not. It’s overwhelming to breathe. No matter how hard I think, how hard I try to remember, you always come out the same. Faceless.
It's pretty hard to keep these at exactly 100 words. I did two of them, so whats another 29...
Library Books Due I could renew them, but knowing my track record with books, it'd be wise to read them NOW. Also, what better way to let others know what I'm reading and also ask for book recs than deeply hidden in my WW post? Any books I should look out for during my next visit? I'll read anything!! OR at least try!!
The Ragpicker King by Cassandra Clare My dumbass got it because the cover looked nice. I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS THE SECOND BOOK (Mind you, this is the large print edition and 'Book 2' was in big, bold letters right on top of the summary.) They don't even have the first book... I'm still reading it anyways xoxo
Fav quote: "Then I am cursed to think only of you. You, who think I am a loathsome person. A vain monster who could not resist showing off and who, in doing so, has made you wretched." (Clare 35).
The Loss of the Burying Ground by J. Anderson Coats Like the first one, I got this because of the cover. It's only 270 pages that's like a few hours out in the sun, I have faith in myself.
Fav quote: "...on the mound I created from handful on handful of sand. One grain every time I'd willingly die if it meant she could be alive here, on this beach..." (Coats 9).
If you read this far, you are amazing. If you haven't read this far, you are also amazing. (The illusion of free choice.)
@jazzydl @gonzalesfreecs @lovelettersto-mars @bachusekart @bookishbroadwayandblind @catthehappy @valeffelees @thewholelemon @facewithoutheart @roomwithanopenfire @the-beard-of-edward-teach @monbons @blackberrysummerblog
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